Things to know
At seven years old, Remus Lupin knew a few things.
And then there was an enormous pile of things he didn’t know. Or didn’t understand, maybe that was the better way to phrase it.
He knew for certain that he didn’t enjoy it much to be around other people. Grown-ups or kids, it didn’t matter, although grown-ups were worse, mostly.
With kids, as long as they weren’t of the bullying sort, they just left him alone eventually, earlier rather than later, most of times. The grown-ups seldomly left him alone once they started whatever it was they wanted with him, he could never quiet figure that out.
And wasn’t that the whole big problem anyway? Up to this day, Remus just never understood what was expected of him. How to behave around other people, how to move, how to look, how to laugh, or smile – his mouth just always felt so weird around other people - how to bloody talk. Talking was the most confusing thing. He always seemed to mess that one up. Either people laughed or chuckled at him or they remained silent and got that weird look on their faces – which Remus also didn’t know how to figure out.
So that was that. He didn’t like being around other people much, but luckily in his young life, he lived in a place with more animals – mainly horses – than human beings. And he loved the horses. This was another thing seven year-old Remus knew for sure. He never had any trouble understanding the horses. And the horses never seemed to have any trouble understanding him.
So maybe he wasn’t the problem at all? Maybe the grown-ups were the problem really? This was a concept, Remus thought a lot about, another thing on the long list he didn’t know…
Another lucky thing was, that there was a little number of people which Remus did like to be around. Not always, but mostly. Sometimes he needed to be alone, too, but who didn’t? His father needed to be alone every so often, too. Remus knew this, because there was a pattern. And oh Remus liked patterns, everything was understandable with patterns.
When his father needed to be alone, one of two things would happen. And it was always about barns, or stables, or gates and fences. Or horses, of course.
Either his mother would say something along the lines of „Lyall, the gate on the southern meadow gets stuck, better fix it after lunch, yes?“
Or his father would simply vanish out of whatever social gathering they had with some mumbled words of „I’m off to the barn, something needs my attention …“ And then Remus would look to his mum and there was a little smile and always that same look on her face but Remus didn’t know what it meant. Only that everything was probably alright.
So that were two of the people Remus mostly liked being around. Then there was that very old lady – Claire – with very nice long white hair, who lived at the edge of the nearby village, the nearest next house from the ranch where Remus lived with his parents.
With Claire, Remus never felt weird and she also never got that weird look or chuckled at him like he was some cute clumsy kitten. She just showed him lots of things or answered his questions in a calm and earnest voice. Remus liked that. Calm and earnest. As if everything was important.
***
At 92 years of age, Claire Leroux knew some things. She had lived a big part of her life in this little village, with a few escapades to foreign cities or countries here and there.
And she knew that every now and then, there was a child that was a little different. Or special, as she rather liked to think of them. Of course all children were special in their own way, but some were just – a little more special, which would become obvious sooner rather than later in the little humans lives.
In the generations of the Lupins - and up to this date Claire has had the joy and honour to directly know 5 of them - this fact was quiet interesting to observe. Always the boys, never the girls. And not all the boys, either. From what her grandmother, now of course long dead, had told her, this ‚special thing‘ went back way more generations. There had always been the odd one – so she would call it - amongst the Lupins siblings.
Also sometimes it was more obvious than other times. Lyall Lupin was mostly just very quiet but also extremely skilled with everything technical, woodwork, machines, tools, no matter what problem, he could fix it, or simply invent and construct the necessary from scratch. ‚Magic hands‘ - these words could be heard through generations of Lupins, who knew how many centuries back?
Now there was the little Remus. And with the wonderful Hope as his mother and himself living more amongst the herd of horses than people – it was long obvious that here was the next little very special one.
***
At almost eight years old, Sirius Black had quiet an accurate grasp on how things worked in this world. He understood the routine of his everyday life (whether he liked it or not was a different question).
He knew when to be where, how to dress in the morning and how for dinner, how to talk to the different adults around him, or how he was supposed to talk to them, anyway.
How to practice the piano, how to do his homework...
How to stand still, how to keep clean and oh so tidy (not only himself but also his room and the whole house – this weird place that attracted chaos like magnets as soon as you opened the door). How to smile politely, how to look people in the eyes or not, how to properly shake hands (like a Black!).
How to behave around other kids – should there arise the rather seldom situation of other kids around that weren’t his cousins – mainly ignore them (which he mainly didn’t), and most importantly: how to keep quiet when necessary (most of times).
He knew and understood all these rules and expectations in this rather enormous, extraordinary stiff house of his family by heart, this was not the problem. The problem was to follow and heed all this knowledge.
It seemed this was quiet impossible for almost eight year-old Sirius Black. Even knowing and absolutely understanding all the above and more, Sirius’ everyday routine looked a little different.
It already started with the cursed clothes and overall requiered appearance. Somehow things (clothes, hair, fingernails, shoes, toys...) just never stayed in place how they were supposed to. It wasn’t Sirius fault, really, he didn’t do it on purpose, he just always needed to move, or wriggle, or simply touch, or his skin was itchy so he needed to get the clothes loose, something or other just alwayshappened with the result that he or his surroundings were in more disarray than expected of a properly dressed and groomed member of the Black household.
Then the proper behaviour. Sirius almost suspected that he was tempted on purpose by all these silly and honest to god boring rules in this house. His parents or teachers couldn’t actually believe he would follow all this, could they?! He didn’t even break the rules and ignore expectations consciously, it just happened.
Sometimes, though, he quiet consciously did push the buttons with adults (mostly his mother) around him, he had to admit that. It was just too exciting to know the outcome of his pushing exactly beforehand, to not just push and push and push. And then sometimes he didn’t want to, but he just couldn’t stop either. Especially with his unreliable mouth. Always running and running and saying too much, too loud, too cheeky...
And here we were with the most important rule, according to his mother at least. Sirius just knew he would never manage to follow that one, no matter if he was 7 or 9 or 15 years old. It just wasn’t possible. Keep quiet. Oh how he hated these two words!
***
At 6 and a half years old, Regulus Black had stopped talking completely for almost three years up to this very day. Sometimes he whispered, but only very few words, and only with one specific person, provided nobody else was around, of course.
***