Orbiting

Remus Lupin lay on the ground of a deserted park, a wooden cane clutched in his hand and a bag containing all his possessions tucked under his head of messy light brown curls, counting down the hours until he returned to Hogwarts University. He had been doing his best not to replay the events of this summer in his mind, but there was little else to occupy his thoughts. It was too painful to walk any distance that might ease his mind. Besides, his leg was already throbbing as he lay there; adding walking to the train stop while lugging his bag over his shoulder to the growing list of worries was something he was desperately trying to avoid thinking about.

Three hours and twenty-three minutes

Remus reached into the pocket of his faded, worn-out jeans and retrieved his new class schedule and housing accommodation. He held it above his head, the sun shining through the paper and turning it a soft yellow color. His eyes scanned the week’s schedule. It was full but with enough downtime to stay on top of his work. Mondays and Wednesdays mirrored each other, starting with a Sociology of Gender lecture, followed by a Psychology of Learning seminar, and ending with an Educational Policy and Practice lecture—three back-to-back classes with little break in between. Tuesdays and Thursdays featured a morning Astronomy lecture, an afternoon Writing and Research Skills workshop, and a Critical Pedagogy seminar. Fridays were more relaxed, providing Remus with dedicated time for independent study to catch up, reflect, and prepare for the upcoming week.

He flipped the paper over already knowing that his room accommodation would be different from last year. Due to the incident this summer that left him semi-dependent on his cane, he would no longer be able to ascend the spiral staircase of Gryffindor Hall to his old room on the fourth floor with enough consistency to room there. An ember of anger ignited in his chest as he remembered the phone call he had made to the housing department explaining his newfound need for a ground-level room with as little detail as humanly possible. The raspy voice on the other end of the line seemed less than pleased to be making a switch so late but obliged nonetheless. She had squawked that she would have to displace another student in order to meet his needs as if Remus had been plotting to disturb her life’s work of carefully placing each student in their respective sleeping arrangement. Skimming the paper, he learned that he would now reside in room 104 with a boy named James Potter. It wasn’t a lot of information to go on, but Remus couldn’t bring himself to care much. He would miss his old dorm mate, Fred—not because they were particularly close, quite the opposite. Fred Longbottom was quiet and didn’t bother Remus with small talk or invitations to go out. They were pleasant with each other, kept the room tidy, and didn’t touch each other’s belongings, which, in Remus’ eyes, was the ideal situation when it came to forced proximity. He shoved the paper back into his patched-up pocket and turned his head to the side, observing the grass he was lying in while shielding his eyes from the sun, which was growing stronger by the minute.

Boredom was something Remus was beginning to think might be the cause of his premature death. Time seemed to inch by, practically crawling at this point. Could you actually see grass grow? Either he was starting to hallucinate, or the blades had indeed sprouted a millimeter or two since he had begun monitoring them like it was his job.

Two hours and seventeen minutes

Today was a difficult day for Remus’ leg. He could barely move it without experiencing a stabbing sensation that made him feel as if the entire appendage was on fire. He took a deep breath, swallowing the thick summer air, knowing it would likely take him twice as long as the usual forty-five-minute walk he could manage last summer. The idea of lying there until he withered away was incredibly tempting, but he steeled himself and counted to three before attempting to get up. The moment he tensed his muscles to sit up, the pain made him want to vomit. He could feel where his skin had been stretched tight to heal itself. On days like this, Remus swore his body was trying to tear itself open again.

Leaning heavily on his cane, Remus stood to his full height and glanced down at his bag, which seemed lightyears away. He knew he would have to bend down to retrieve it. Was it even worth the effort? Feeling the beads of sweat already forming on his temple, Remus wasn’t sure. The bag was practically falling apart, covered in holes and poorly sown together—Remus Lupin was many things, but a seamstress was not one of them. Unfortunately, everything he owned was in the rumpled duffel, and Remus knew he couldn’t afford to replace a single item—he had barely scrounged up enough money to catch the train back to school. Wincing as he bent over, balancing on his good leg, he grabbed the tattered strap and hoisted the bag onto his back before slowly straightening himself up.

"Fuck," Remus muttered to himself, half from the pain radiating through every inch of his left leg, and half because he glanced at his watch and saw that it had taken him a full ten minutes just to stand up and gather his belongings.

Two hours and seven minutes

Slowly and painstakingly, the boy limped closer to the train station, taking frequent breaks whenever he felt like he might pass out. He cursed himself for not having pushed through the distance to the train station earlier when the painkillers were still working at full capacity. At the time, it had seemed like a brilliant idea to lie down at the park. He knew there was no chance of getting any sleep at the station, with the noise of people and the trains bustling in and out. Plus, the park had become something of a safe haven since he had left—or, more accurately, since he had been kicked out of his home. Regardless, the decision had been made, and he was committed to the plan now. When he reached the halfway point of his journey, he checked his watch.

One hour and one minute

At this pace, he would never make it. Sweat soaked through Remus' clothes, and he felt equally disgusting inside and out. His breaths were ragged, and his mouth was so dry that he could feel his tongue starting to crack. He wanted nothing more than to sit down and take the weight off his leg, but there was no time. Remus knew that if he sat down, he was unlikely to ever get back up. Throwing his doctor's words of caution to not “overdo” the pain meds out the door, Remus shifted his bag to the front of his body, wobbling his weight onto his right leg while balancing his cane against himself. He needed another painkiller. Popping the cap off the bottle, he carefully shook it against his lips until two pills fell into his mouth. He choked them down, the lack of moisture causing the pills to stick in his throat. It took a minute of coughing and repeated swallowing, but finally, the medicine unlodged itself and slid down. Remus screwed the lid back on the bottle, repositioned his bag against his back, and reclaimed his cane before setting off again, waiting for the relief to settle the nerves in his leg.

After another twenty-five minutes of strained limping, Remus was finally starting to feel some relief, courtesy of the small white pills. Ignoring the fact that he had already exceeded his recommended dosage, he felt oddly pleased with his problem-solving skills. With only minutes to spare, he hobbled to the ticket counter and purchased his fare. By the time he reached the platform, all the other passengers had already boarded. As quickly as he could manage, Remus stepped onto the train and scanned for an empty space. Within a couple of minutes, he found a spot where he could stretch his long limbs and finally take a well-deserved respite.

One minute

Faintly, he heard the train whistle blow, signaling the start of the next part of his journey back to Hogwarts. As he closed his eyes and began to drift off, he knew he had about two hours from Wales to London before he’d have to think about walking again. Remus refused to face that reality until he absolutely had to. Within five minutes he had dozed off into a deep sleep.

Startling awake at the sensation of a hand on his shoulder, Remus flinched so violently that he hit his leg against the wall of the train. Stifling the urge to scream from the immediate return of the intense pain, he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood. The girl standing in front of him looked regretful, clearly not meaning to frighten him.

"Sorry, I just thought you should know we've arrived in London," she said, wringing her hands together.

"Oh," Remus croaked, his mouth even drier now, leaving his throat feeling like sandpaper. "Erm, thanks," he added, coughing.

"Here." The small, straight-haired blonde girl began digging around in her bag before extending a water bottle toward him.

Remus shifted uncomfortably. "I can't pay for that."

Offering a warm smile, she shook her head. "That's quite alright. I'm a bit of an overpacker; I brought three with me."

Feeling sheepish but unable to refuse, Remus took the bottle from her. "Thank you."

"You’re very welcome. Well, I’d better be off before my mum starts to worry." With that, she picked up her bag and walked away.

Remus unscrewed the lid of the bottle and drank half of it before returning the cap to the top. The relief was instantaneous and he desperately wanted to finish it, but knew he was better off saving some of it for his walk later. Despite what others – his father – might say, Remus was capable of thinking things through and making rational decisions. He bent down and tucked the bottle in his bag for safekeeping before grabbing his cane to stand.

“Shit,” Remus muttered as he felt a stinging in his hand. Flipping it over to examine his palm, he realized that large blisters had formed where the cane had rubbed his skin raw during the trek to the station back in Wales. “Perfect…” he added, knowing that the rest of the walk would be even worse than he had anticipated. With a deep sigh, he stood and reached for his bag, knowing that he might as well get it over with. He walked stiffly out of the London station and toward the street. Sulking in self-pity for the grueling walk ahead, Remus was barely conscious of his movements when he ran into a small figure. Immediately coming back to himself and mumbling apologies he looked down to see it was the same girl from the train.

“Are you a student at Hogwarts?!” She blurted staring at his jumper.

Remus looked down and noticed he was still wearing his university sweater, which, in hindsight, might not have been the best choice for the dead of summer. But he couldn’t bear the thought of people seeing how bony his body had become after weeks spent sleeping outside, or the bruises and scuffs from last week when some bloke had jumped him and stolen the small amount of cash he'd managed to stash when he fled his home. Apparently, the secondhand books and old clothes he'd been carrying were of no interest to the guy, which Remus thought he should probably be grateful for. It was in this moment that the tall, slightly freckled boy became acutely aware of just how ragged he must look. The loose curls on the left side of his face were plastered to his head where it had pressed against the train window, the sweat drying them into place. His jumper was scuffed with dirt in several places, and although these were his favorite jeans, he wasn’t delusional about their state. Not to mention his cane and the very pronounced limp that accompanied him.

“Um, yeah. Second year there,” he said, trying to hide how uncomfortable he felt.

“Get out! Me too! My mum’s picking me up to drop me off there,” she said, all smiles and perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

“That’s nice,” Remus replied. “Are you waitin’ to get picked up too? We can wait together if you like!” Her voice remained chirpy.

Remus coughed and quickly looked away. “No, I... um… I’m walkin’ from here. Sorry ‘bout runnin’ into you and everything.”

“Oh,” her cheerful demeanor faltered slightly, “well, you should just wait with me an’ get a ride with my mum. She should be here soon.”

Under normal circumstances, Remus would’ve politely declined immediately knowing that the girl had probably only offered out of pity. However, his body was scream­ing at him to agree, and he had very little fight left in him.

He cleared his throat. “Are you... sure? I wouldn’t wanna be a bother. I normally walk from here.” What are you doin’?! You’ll never make it on your own! his inner voice screamed.

“No trouble at all!” Her smile returned with full force. “My name’s Marlene.” She extended her hand to him.

“Remus,” he replied, moving his bag to the ground to shake her outstretched hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Remus. Oh, there she is! Let’s go, she doesn’t like to park—says it’s more trouble than it’s worth, so I just meet her on the street.” Marlene was already walking briskly toward the car.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Remus quickly picked up his bag and followed her. As he approached, he heard Marlene speaking through the unrolled window of the car. “Mum, this is my friend Remus. He’s a student at Hogwarts too. Is it alright if he hitches a ride?”

The woman in the car glanced around her at the lanky boy with purple bags under his eyes, looking like Marlene had just pulled him from the gutter. She faltered, a slight pinch to her face before she relented. “Fine, fine, just get in the car. I don’t wanna try finding a parking space, an’ people are already honkin’.”

With that, Remus and Marlene piled into the car, which jerked into motion. Remus sat in the back of the white station wagon, his legs crammed into the back of the passenger seat, listening as Marlene recounted her summer. She’d gone to visit a family member, an aunt if Remus remembered correctly, and spent her days hiking, visiting waterfalls, and camping. He did his best to ask follow-up questions to avoid having to talk about his own summer.

With great relief, they finally pulled up to Hogwarts. Remus thanked Marlene’s mother before extricating himself from the back seat, cane, and bag in hand. With another thanks and a promise to see Marlene soon to hang out—one he had no intention of keeping—he set off toward the housing department to collect his room key.

Remus received more than a few wary glances at Housing, but he was just grateful the line was short, and it didn’t take long before he was heading to Gryffindor Hall. Upon arriving at the door, he pulled the newly procured key from his pocket and opened it, relieved to find that his roommate, James, had yet to arrive. As much as he wanted to collapse onto the bed and sleep for the next two weeks, the pressing need for a shower took precedence. He hadn’t had a proper shower in weeks, resorting to cleaning up in public bathroom sinks as best as he could. Quickly grabbing the cleanest, comfiest clothes he could find along with his toothbrush, toothpaste, and half-used bar of soap he hurried off to the bathroom.

Turning the shower to the hottest temperature possible, Remus stepped in and felt the scalding water rush over him. He washed himself thoroughly, letting the water soothe him before standing still, allowing the steam to release some of the tension that had taken up residence in every muscle. When he could no longer stand on his leg, he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a dorm-provided towel around his body. Lowering himself onto the closed toilet lid, he dried off and dressed in a fresh jumper and trousers.

Once he had rested for a bit, he stood over the sink and brushed his teeth. When Remus finally finished, he gathered the courage to look himself in the mirror. The face staring back at him was closer to his own than what he had seen in the public bathrooms, but he still didn’t fully recognize the reflection. There was something hollow and broken about the boy trapped in the glass. Feeling even more tired at the realization, Remus turned, grabbed his cane that had been propped against the wall, and made his way to bed, stopping only to grab the water bottle from his bag to finish the remaining half.

Selecting the bed closest to the window, he pulled back the covers, crawled in, and closed his eyes.

—-

Too soon, Remus was jolted awake by the door slamming open as someone shuffled their belongings into the room. Rubbing his eyes and sitting up, he looked toward the source of the disturbance. A medium-height boy with dark, tousled hair framing a sharp face and high cheekbones was carrying several bags, which he set down next to the unoccupied bed. This must be James Potter.

Noticing Remus stirring, James paused in his movements and looked over at the sleep-rumpled boy. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to wake ya. These bags are so bloody heavy, it’s ‘ard to be quiet.” He offered a kind smile that seemed to brighten his entire face. “I’m James Potter. You must be Remu.”

Remus blinked, confused. Was he really that out of it, or did this boy just call him Remu? James must have noticed the furrowed expression forming on Remus’ face because he quickly added, “Or... are you, Benjy? I got a notice a couple of weeks ago that the arrangement had been changed.”

“That’s not my name,” was all Remus could manage, still groggy from sleep.

James fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, unfolding it before handing it to Remus. “Sorry, mate. Guess I’m just a bit confused. Maybe they switched it again and it was too late to send a notice.”

Peering down at the paper, Remus read the black ink clearly printed on the stark white sheet: Dormmate: Remu Lupin. It was a typo. But for some reason, it made the corner of his mouth twitch into a half-smile.

“They misspelled it. My name is Remus.” He breathed, handing the paper back to James.

“Well, it’s great to meet you mate! Are you excited for the year? What degree program are you in?” James asked pushing his round glasses back into place.

“Um yeah, good to be back. I’m studying Education, ehrm, what about you?” Remus always found it a bit difficult to make conversation, even one as simple as this. He had grown up with no siblings, his father didn’t care much for idle chatter, and his mother was a taciturn t woman.

James didn’t seem to mind much. He answered easily, “Psychology,” then launched into a full-scale explanation. “I could’ve gone with something boring, like politics or business—the usual, safe stuff—but I wanted something that actually made sense to me. I’ve been told I’m good with people–intuitive. It’s like when I’m on the footie pitch—you’ve got to read the game, predict what’s coming next. But with people, it’s trickier. I could understand how their minds work—why they act the way they do. It’s practical, but also fascinating. Think about it—everyone’s got their quirks, their fears, their insecurities. I can learn why people do the things they do, and how to get through to ‘em when it matters most. And if I understand myself a little better, that’s a bonus.

Remus flushed deeply at James’ long-winded explanation. James was not a Fred Longbottom—he was energetic, chatty, and worst of all, he seemed to have a genuine interest in other people’s thoughts, feelings, and reasons for doing the things they did. It was as if the universe had conspired to put Remus in the room with the one person who would undoubtedly try to unravel the mystery of who he was—physically and mentally.

Remus squirmed uncomfortably on his bed. The idea of having someone like James digging into his psyche felt like a special form of torture. Was it too late to go back to housing and beg them to switch his room back to the fourth floor? He could crawl up there if he needed to, he thought. Bloody hell, he’d even sleep outside if it meant escaping this. At least there, he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone questioning his cane or limp or how they came to be. But no, it was too late now. The thought of calling that raspy-voiced woman at housing again and explaining that, actually, he’d made a mistake, and could he please be moved to his old room, made him wince. She’d likely combust on the spot. Besides, she would probably think of it as karma for the hassle he had put her through to secure him this room in the first place.

James, for all his rambling, seemed completely oblivious to Remus’ internal panic. He was too busy smiling brightly, “Guess I’ve got a knack for it. So why not study it properly?” James continued, his words tumbling out faster than Remus could process them. “Might as well use the skill to get better at it. But seriously, it’s more about understanding people. The way they think, the way they feel.”

Remus gave a stiff nod, forcing himself to keep his attention on the conversation. He couldn’t afford to let James know just how uncomfortable he was. He couldn’t very well back out now. But, he could try to escape.

As if on cue, Remus' stomach let out a low, rumbling growl. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until that moment, the constant tension in his body making it hard to focus on anything other than his discomfort. He cleared his throat, desperate to change the subject and escape James' eager probing.

"Look, mate, it's nice to meet you, but I think I'm going to head to the canteen and grab some food," Remus said, his voice a bit rough from just waking up.

"Great idea, I’ll join!" James replied, practically bouncing on his heels. "Bloody famished."

Remus suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He had hoped for a moment of solitude, but apparently, that wasn’t in the cards. Instead, he grabbed his cane, carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up, feeling the familiar ache of his leg. He hesitated for a moment, then reached into his bag and popped another pill into his mouth, swallowing it quickly and as subtly as possible, hoping James wouldn’t notice. He didn’t like drawing attention to the little things he had to do to get through each day, especially not with someone like James, who seemed as if he would notice everything.

"Alright," Remus said, forcing a smile. "Let’s go then." after slipping on his shoes, he limped towards the door with James trailing behind him, chatting away about something or other. The sound of James' enthusiastic voice was almost too much to handle, but Remus just nodded along, focusing on making it to the canteen without letting his discomfort show.

Apparently, James found it quite amusing how much food Remus was able to pile onto his plate. His eyebrows shot up as Remus returned to the food line for a second helping, and the look on his face was one of sheer disbelief. Remus couldn’t help but think, You might feel the same way if you hadn’t had a proper meal in ages, but he kept his expression carefully neutral and gave a simple shrug saying instead, “Oh, you know, high metabolism and all.” Which seemed to satisfy James.

The food was a relief, but the mouthfuls also provided a perfect excuse to stay quiet, allowing Remus to escape the pressure of conversation. Of course, this didn’t stop James. His chatter filled the space, each sentence tumbling out as though he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t long before Remus learned everything about James' life, or so it seemed. James was an only child too, like Remus. His parents, Effie and Fleamont, seemed to be people he looked up to, based on the way he spoke about them with pride. Remus nodded along, half listening, half focused on chewing and swallowing as quickly as possible.

"Oh, and my girlfriend, Lily—she’s the most beautiful person to ever grace this Earth. Seriously, mate, you’d be amazed." Remus blinked, a little caught off guard by the abruptness of the declaration. But James didn’t wait for a response before continuing, "And I play football for the university. Striker, you know? The best position on the pitch." He gave a grin that was all teeth, clearly more than happy to share his accomplishments.

Remus simply nodded, biting back the urge to ask for a moment of silence. It wasn’t that he necessarily disliked James—it was just that the relentless enthusiasm was a lot to take in. He focused instead on the rhythm of eating, hoping the physical act of chewing could drown out the sound of James' voice just long enough for him to collect his thoughts.

“Want to head over to the welcome back party? Supposed to be even better than last year from what I’ve heard,” James asked as they stepped out into the night air, the soft hum of the campus settling around them.

Remus hesitated for only a moment before answering, “Ah, nah, I told some friends that I would meet up with them tonight.” The lie slipped out smoothly, though it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

James’ face faltered for a second—his smile dimmed just enough for Remus to catch it. But just as quickly, the smile returned, slightly strained. “Alright mate, well, I guess I’ll see you back at the room later then.”

Remus nodded in response, grateful for James' quick recovery, but also eager to be free from the conversation. The tension in his chest eased only slightly as James turned and walked off in the direction of the party.

Once James was out of sight, Remus didn't waste any time. He turned on his heel and headed back toward the dorm, the quiet of the evening filling his ears. When he finally reached his room, he went through the motions of brushing his teeth and slipping into his pajamas, the familiar routine grounding him, if only a little.

Crawling into bed, Remus pulled the covers up to his chin and let the silence envelop him. It was a welcome reprieve from the noise of the day—the chatter, the questions, the forced interactions. For a moment, he allowed himself to forget about everything outside the room. He closed his eyes, letting sleep take him as the world continued without him.