Orbiting

The first day of classes came quickly, which made the possibility of avoiding James a bit easier. Uncharacteristically, Remus had started to develop a soft spot for the ever-cheerful boy, but that only made it harder to find excuses to leave without feeling a faint pang of guilt. Over the past couple of days, he had resorted to asking James questions about football, a topic he knew absolutely nothing about. James, of course, had been more than happy to explain every last detail, his enthusiasm so contagious that it almost made Remus forget how much he wanted to avoid getting too close to him.

Remus had gone back and forth in his head about whether to rely on his cane for the first day. His leg had been feeling better, likely thanks to the constant stream of painkillers he had been taking and the rest he'd managed to give it after his arrival on Friday. Ultimately, he decided to skip the cane. It seemed like overkill, and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Instead, he added an extra pill to his morning dosage. As he swallowed it, the familiar voice of his doctor echoed in his mind, reminding him not to overdo it. But it was just one extra pill, and he really needed them. Besides, what harm could it do? He needed to be functional for his first day back.

He left his dorm with plenty of time to head to the canteen with James, who continued to be baffled by the sheer volume of food Remus was able to pile onto his plate. After a somewhat awkward breakfast that involved more talk about football than Remus had ever cared to know, the two of them parted ways to head to their respective classes.

The lanky boy made his way toward his Sociology of Gender lecture, pleased at how well he was masking his limp. By the time he arrived, most of the students had already settled into their seats, unpacking notebooks and pens. Remus spotted an open seat near the aisle, beside a red-headed girl with green eyes and freckles sprinkled across her face. She smiled as he lowered his 193-centimeter frame into the red-cushioned chair. He gave a small nod of acknowledgment before reaching into his bag for his own notebook.

As he settled in, the girl leaned over and introduced herself.

"Hiya, I'm Lily," she said warmly.

"Remus," he replied, returning the greeting with a small, polite nod. The name sounded familiar, but Remus couldn't place why. He ransacked his memory for a moment, sifting through the avalanche of details James had poured out over the past few days. Then it dawned on him.

It was a common enough name, so it probably wasn’t her, but before he could stop himself, he found himself asking, "Lily, yeah? You know a James Potter?"

Her face split into an amused grin before she even answered. "Oh, yeah, he's my boyfriend. You know him?"

“Er, kinda. He’s my dormmate this year.”

This seemed to delight Lily, her grin widening even further. "Can’t believe I’m meeting the mysterious roommate in my first class," she said, her voice light with amusement.

Remus swallowed hard, suddenly self-conscious. "I dunno if 'mysterious' really describes me," he said quietly.

She shook her head slightly, her smile still warm. "Nah, don’t worry, James has only said good things about you. He reckons you eat for a family of three, you’re pretty quiet, and you’re up for learning more about footie."

Remus almost chuckled at the overly simplistic description, but just smiled instead. “I think James is more keen on talking about footie than I am interested, to be honest, but it’s nice hearin’ him explain it, I s’ppose.”

Lily’s laugh was soft and easy. "Yeah, football’s James’ greatest love, so that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest."

Despite his usual discomfort with small talk, Remus found it surprisingly easy to converse with Lily. Nothing they had said so far had been particularly profound or deep, but there was a natural ease to it—something that he couldn't remember feeling often. She wasn't pushing for more, yet she was friendly enough that he didn’t feel the need to retreat into his shell. It was an odd sense of connection he couldn't quite explain. They continued to make light chatter until the professor made her way to the front to begin the lecture. The rest of the class breezed by and Remus got the feeling that he was going to enjoy the class based on the outline Professor McGonagall provided.

The Psychology of Learning class passed quickly, with an overview of the course and the expectations for attendance and participation emphasized. Feeling the need for food and glancing at his watch to see that he had an hour and a half before his next class, Remus set off toward the canteen. After fixing himself a full plate, he found an empty booth to settle into. Before he had even raised the first forkful to his mouth, he heard a familiar voice.

“I thought James was exaggerating, but wow.” Lily stared down at Remus’ plate before promptly sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“Just wait until he gets to the second helping,” James replied, sliding into the spot next to Lily.

“Oi! Piss off, I’m a growing boy,” Remus replied, shoving a bite into his mouth.

“Growing?! How much more are you planning on growing? I think I might start having to walk around on stilts to talk to you if you get any taller.” James gave a lopsided grin and started on his own plate.

“Should probably anyway; can barely hear you from my height now.” Remus retorted easily.

“Cheeky bugger,” James teased.

They chatted lightly as they ate their food. Remus thought that maybe he could hold this line. He could have friends on this surface level, where he wasn’t so alone but also didn’t have to reveal too much of himself. Maybe.

“Well, I should probably be off; I’ve got a class in a bit,” Remus said, standing from the table.

“Want to meet up later for a pick-up game of footie?” James asked, looking up at him.

“Can’t. I should probably catch up with my mate after I’m done with class,” Remus replied, not wanting to bring up the fact that his leg wouldn’t allow him to partake anyway.

“Bring him along! We can always use more blokes on the pitch,” James offered.

“He doesn’t go here. I know him from Wales. Well… I mean, he lives here in London, but I know him from Wales when he visits his grandmother. I usually call him when I get back from breaks.” Regret spread through Remus’ body immediately—he was oversharing.

“Alright, I guess I’ll catch you back at the dorm.”

“See you next class, Remus!” Lily called after him.

True to his word, after class Remus walked to the phones in the common room of the dorm. He stared at it for what felt like an hour, though it was probably closer to five minutes in reality. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to him, but he knew this conversation would likely not be as lighthearted as usual. Come on, just do it, you coward, he reprimanded himself internally.

With a few deep breaths to calm his shaking hands, he picked up the phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.

It rang three times before, “Hello?”

“Grant? It’s Remus,” he said, already feeling a bit better from the one word the boy on the other side had said.

“Blimey, was startin’ to think you’d forgotten about me,” Grant replied, and Remus could practically hear the smirk on his face.

“Couldn’t if I tried. So, how’ve ya been?” Remus asked, trying to keep the conversation light for as long as he could.

“Ah, you know. Back at work, same old, same old. How’s me favourite posh boy?”

“Yeah, go—od,” his voice cracked in the middle. I’m crying? When did that start? Remus hadn’t even noticed the tears until they were already there. He wiped his face quickly and tried to pull it together.

“Remus… what’s wrong?”

Shit. He’d already blown it. He knew he could never lie to Grant, but losing it this early on wasn’t exactly how he saw this going.

“Um, well… some things happened after you left this summer.” Remus remained vague. Maybe Grant would move past it and not ask follow-up questions.

“What things? Are you alright? Are you back in London? What’s goin’ on?”

Okay, so there were follow-up questions. Maybe if he skirted around the most obvious one, they could move on with the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m back in London. Started classes today—nothing heavy, just got the syllabus for each class and everything.” Remus’ voice was still wobbly, and tears were still lining his cheeks.

“Remus. What happened? You don’t sound like yourself.” Grant pressed, unwilling to let it go.

“My dad… he, um… he sort of hit me. Got a bit banged up, I s’ppose.” Remus found it increasingly difficult to hide the strain in his voice.

“Sort of hit you? A bit banged up? What’s that mean? How bad is it?” Grant’s voice was starting to sound panicked.

“It’s fine now. I’ve got some pain meds and a cane–” Remus knew the instant the last word left his mouth that he had messed up.

“A cane?! Bloody hell, I’m going to kill him.” Grant’s panic quickly turned to rage.

“Look, I’m fine and managing it. The doctor said it might be possible for me to recover enough to no longer need it at some point.” He was scrambling now, unsure of what to say or how to push past this part of the conversation.

Silence.

“I’m coming to see you,” Grant said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“You don’t need to–”

“Shut up. I said I’m coming to see you. I can’t really get out of work this week, but I’ll be there Friday night.” Grant’s tone was final, and Remus reluctantly accepted.

They talked for a bit longer, but it was difficult to discuss much else after Remus had practically blown up the conversation. Afterward, he hung up the phone and walked slowly back to his room. When he pushed open the door, James was sitting on his bed, listening to one of his vinyls. Remus must have looked worse than he thought because James immediately picked up the needle, his face laced with concern.

“You alright, mate?” It was the softest Remus had heard him talk.

“Yeah, all good. Just been a long day, and my leg’s bothering me.” This wasn’t untrue, but it certainly wasn’t the reason for his red-rimmed eyes.

“Anything I can do to help?” James asked earnestly, and Remus felt guilty for only giving him a half-truth.

“Nah, think I’m just gonna shower and head to bed. The music’s nice, though. Bowie?” Remus asked, already knowing the answer after having listened to Heroes nonstop on the radio a couple of summers ago.

“Yeah. Want me to put it back on?” James asked, a small smile returning to his face.

“Definitely. I’ll be fast in the shower.” Remus said as he grabbed a change of clothes and settled into the bathroom.

He opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and quickly swallowed a fresh pill before going through his nightly routine of showering, brushing his teeth, and slipping into his pajamas. When Remus walked out, Sons of the Silent Age was playing, and James was bobbing his head from side to side with his eyes closed. Exhausted from the day, Remus fell asleep soon after his head hit the pillow.

—-

The light peering through the curtains woke Remus from his sleep, but since he had a later start today, he rolled over and pulled the covers over his head to rest a bit longer. However, his mind was already awake, replaying his conversation with Grant. Huffing, Remus pulled the blankets off and made to stand. His leg wasn’t ready for the weight, and he immediately crumpled to the floor. The jolt that went through his leg as his knee slammed into the ground made him cry out.

“Shit, Remus!” James jumped out of bed and rushed to his side. “Are you alright?!”

There were white spots dancing in his vision, and he could hear the choked noises escaping from his mouth, but he felt removed from his body.

“Just lay down. I’ll get you some water and your meds.” With that, James dashed to the bathroom. “Here’s the water, but looks like the medicine bottle’s empty,” he grimaced.

Fuck, Remus thought, coming back to himself once the worst of the pain had passed. How did I not realize I was out? He’d been so out of sorts after his phone call that he hadn’t even bothered to pay attention.

“Shit,” was all Remus could manage to say aloud.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you to the uni clinic, and they’ll sort you out,” James promised.

Between the cane and James’ help, Remus found himself sitting in an exam room, waiting for the doctor. When she walked in, she introduced herself as Doctor Pomfrey. She was an older woman with short, curly gray hair and a sturdy stature.

“So, how can I help ya today?” Pomfrey asked, her voice warm and kind, like a doting grandmother, making Remus feel a little more at ease than he expected.

“Erm, well, I had an accident this summer that damaged my leg,” he began, swallowing thickly. “And, well, the doctor I saw then gave me some pain meds, but I got jumped last week, and the bloke nicked my meds and cash. I’m struggling without the pain management and was hopin’ to get a new prescription.” Remus cringed inside, knowing the lie didn’t sit well, but he wasn’t about to admit he’d run through the medication too quickly.

“I see,” she said sympathetically, her eyes softening. “Could I have a look at yer leg?”

Remus froze. Of course, she’d want to see it. She was a doctor. She wouldn’t just hand out prescriptions without having a proper look first.

“I’ll… I’ll have to take off my trousers,” Remus said, his voice unnaturally high.

“I’m a doctor, sweetheart,” Pomfrey reassured him, a little chuckle in her voice. “I’ve seen far more than just someone in their knickers.”

“Right, okay.” Remus unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them off, wincing at the rough scrape of the material over his angry red skin.

“Well, looks like things are healing nicely. No sign of infection or reopening of the deeper gouges. The surface wounds are forming healthy scar tissue. So that’s good.” She prodded gently, her tone comforting. “What did yer last doctor say?”

“Said there was some muscle and nerve damage, but that it should mostly resolve over time. Though it’s too early to say for sure. I’ve got a cane for the bad days. I just… I fell getting outta bed this mornin’ and hit my leg pretty hard.”

“Can I ask how it happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it if that’s alright with ya.” Remus dropped his gaze to the floor, the weight of the memory too heavy to lift.

“Right, love. You can get yer jeans back on now.” She turned to write on her notepad. “I’ll write ya up a new prescription for yer leg, but I want ya to use yer cane today and not overdo it. Rest up a bit. I’d also like to see ya back in a couple weeks just to make sure yer recovery’s still goin’ smoothly. And I’m giving ya a cream for the tightness in yer skin as it heals. When you're feelin' better, we’ll start lookin’ at exercises to strengthen yer leg again.”

Remus flushed slightly under her kind gaze, grateful for her care but embarrassed by the attention.

“Thank you,” he muttered, still not quite meeting her eyes. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, love. That’s what I’m here for.” Pomfrey smiled softly, handing him the prescription slip. “Just take that to the desk around the corner to collect yer meds.”

After stopping by the pharmacy counter and procuring the new bottle of medicine and cream, hearing the same words of caution the doctor back in Wales had given him, Remus made his way out toward the exit, spotting James waiting anxiously, bouncing his leg in a chair in the waiting room. As soon as their eyes met, James sprang up, quickly heading over to him.

“Everything go alright?” he asked, worry etched across his face.

“All good, just need to get to my astronomy lecture,” Remus replied, his tone a bit clipped. He wished he could just vanish right there, escape the pity that practically radiated from James.

“I thought you might wanna bunk it off? I don’t have class 'til later. I could walk ya back, or we could grab a bite at the canteen?”

“I’m not a dog, I don’t need walkin’ round from place to place,” Remus snapped, the frustration and embarrassment of the morning catching up with him.

James flinched at the sharpness of the words, hurt flashing across his face before he masked it with a forced smile—one that was far too strained to be convincing. “Right, well... maybe we can meet up for lunch? What time’re you done? I’ll be there with my mates, Peter and Si–”

“I’ve gotta go. I’m probably already gonna be late as it is. I’ll see ya later. Cheers for yer help.” The words were meant to sound appreciative, but they came out all wrong, dripping with a coldness that made them anything but.

—-

As expected, Remus walked into the lecture hall right before class started, so he ducked into the first available seat he could find, letting out a huff of air as he did. The room smelled faintly of old books and coffee, the murmur of students filling the air as they waited for class to start. Remus glanced around briefly, noting the few lingering groups of students still chatting in the back. The teacher, a woman in her mid-forties with long black hair and a sharp nose, introduced herself as Professor Sinistra before launching into the syllabus breakdown.

The class slid by with little of note until Sinistra instructed, “Now, find yourself a group of four. These people will serve as your partners for in-class work and larger projects throughout the term.”

Of bloody course. Group work. Remus thought, letting out an internal groan.

A boy with messy brown hair, as if he'd just rolled out of bed, leaned over to Remus, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Well, we've got three," he said, a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. "And it looks like you're down three. What do you say—want to join our trio? Though, I suppose I should check if you can read before inviting you in." His grin was playful as if he were just taking the piss.

Had Remus not had the morning he did, he might have had a little more tact than, “I’m a second-year student at one of the most prestigious universities in England. What the fuck do you think you daft twat?” His brows furrowing in the middle.

This earned bright laughter from the two other boys sitting with him. One had neat, dark curly hair that framed his angular jawline. His face was striking in a way that bordered on unconventional, with eyes that gleamed a silvery shade. The third boy had shorter sandy blonde hair, his shirt slightly untucked, giving him a laid-back appearance. His hazel eyes were warm with a hint of someone always a little lost in thought, yet completely at ease in the moment.

“Oi, I like this bloke. I’m Evan, mate,” the light-haired boy said as a way of greeting, holding out his hand. “This daft wanker is Barty, and this one here,” he said, cupping the boy’s sharp cheekbones, “is Reggie.”

Reggie, who had been quietly observing, smirked and gave a quick wave. “Reality is, they’re both idiots, but they’re reliable, I’ll give ‘em that.”

Barty gave a nod, brushing a hand through his disheveled hair. “Looks like everyone else is grouped up anyway, so I’m not sure you have much of a choice at this point.”

Remus glanced around, noticing that the other students were quickly packing up, most already heading for the door. “Guess I’m in,” Remus replied, his voice more resigned than he’d intended. Honestly, the lack of options made it easier than stressing himself out about trying to make enough conversation with three other people to comply with the instructions.

“Great, we’re heading for lunch, fancy it?” Reggie asked, gathering his things to follow the last of the other students out the door.

“Too right,” Remus agreed, feeling how empty his stomach was after not getting breakfast that morning. His legs felt stiff from sitting through the lecture, and the thought of food made him realize just how hungry he was.

With that, the four of them set off for lunch, and Remus listened to their banter the whole way, chiming in from time to time. Evan teased Barty about something Remus couldn’t quite catch, while Reggie offered dry commentary on the state of the university’s laundry facility, which only made Remus chuckle after having braved the dungeon-like basement on Sunday. He felt some of the discomfort of the morning melt away as they walked, their laughter easing him into the group dynamic.

“So, why the cane?” Barty asked when they all sat down around an open table in the crowded dining hall. It was a small, bustling space with students scattered about, some eating, others studying. The hum of conversation mixed with the clatter of trays and silverware.

“Fucking hell, Barty, you can’t just ask people every question that pops into your thick skull,” Reggie reprimanded, his voice low but with an edge of fondness. He swiped a chip off Barty’s tray, ignoring the glare that followed.

Remus couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but despite the very question that would have made him (metaphorically) sprint from any other person, he felt at ease. He took a deep breath and decided to just roll with it. “Nah, it’s fine,” Remus schooled his expression, trying to look as serious as possible while saying, “Took a trip to Australia with the fam a couple of years back, got attacked by a bull shark while snorkeling—bit a chunk out of my thigh.”

Barty paled slightly, his mouth going a little slack in surprise. Evan raised an eyebrow, and Reggie leaned back in his chair, not giving anything away. The tension in the air thickened for a moment before Remus broke it by cracking a grin and letting out a small chuckle.

“Cheeky bastard!” Evan barked out, laughing. “You had me going!”

Reggie let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I had a feeling you were winding us up, but that was a solid performance. Fair play.”

As they continued eating and chatting, the conversation shifted easily, falling into their newfound banter. The awkwardness Remus had felt earlier was gone, replaced by the comfortable rhythm of easy conversation. He didn’t have to prove anything here. These idiots, as they’d already been labeled, didn’t need him to be anyone else but himself. And that felt surprisingly good.

“Well, if we’re all going to be stuck with each other this semester,” Reggie said, finishing his drink, “we might as well make it worth it. You in, Remus?”

Remus grinned, feeling the spark of camaraderie light up between them. “Guess I’ll stick around, seems like you lot could be a real laugh.”

They all stood up to part ways for their remaining classes, and Remus couldn’t help but feel like he had found something that he had been missing without Grant.

—-

Remus returned to the dorm room later that day, a bit exhausted. He could still hear the sharpness of his own words to James echoing in his ears. He closed the door behind him quietly, but it was enough to catch James’ attention, who was sitting on his bed with his head buried in a book.

"Oi, you're back," he said lightly, though there was something guarded in his tone. "How’s the leg?"

Remus hesitated, standing at the door for a second longer than necessary. His leg throbbed, and so did the knot in his stomach. “It’s alright. Got some meds and cream for it. Doctor says it’s healing fine.”

James’ gaze flickered back to the book in his hands where his fingers were tapping the edge of the pages restlessly. He was a bit too quiet, his usual easygoing nature subdued. “Good,” he said, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

As the silence stretched on while Remus tried to gather his words, James frowned slightly, stood up from his bed, and stepped closer. “Listen, I’m... sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was, I dunno, hovering. I just... I care, mate.”

“I’m fine,” Remus muttered, his tone more dismissive than he intended. He grimaced at the way the words came out. “Just don’t want you to think I can’t handle myself.”

James’ eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing with a mix of confusion and concern. “Mate, that’s not what I think at all.”

Remus shifted on his feet. “About this morning... I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” James interrupted, his voice quieter than usual. “You’ve had a rough day, I get it.”

But Remus could hear the undertone of something else in James’ words, something that scraped at the edges of the awkwardness between them. “No, I do,” he said, shuffling his feet, “I was a bloody prat. You were just trying to help, and I... I lashed out. Didn’t mean it like that.”

James crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly as he studied Remus, though his expression softened just a fraction. “You don’t need to explain. I get it. You’re dealing with a lot, and it’s not easy. But you don’t have to push me away when you’re upset. I’m not going anywhere, in fact, you are kinda stuck with me.”

The simplicity of James' words hit Remus harder than he expected, and a sudden wave of guilt washed over him. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words tangled in his throat, and instead, he let out a breath.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his voice strained. “I didn’t mean to make it seem like I don’t appreciate your help. I just... I don’t like it when people make a big fuss over me.” He let the words hang in the air, carefully not saying too much, though his thoughts churned beneath the surface. He didn’t want to share everything, but James didn’t need to know all the details. “Guess I’m not quite used to getting looked after like that.”

James gave him a knowing look, the kind that said he understood more than Remus probably realized. “You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

Remus fidgeted with his cane, the conversation pressing in on him. He wanted to say more, to explain more, but he wasn’t ready to let James in that much. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to feel like I’m putting too much on anyone.”

“You’re not,” James said firmly. “And you’re not weak for needing help. No one’s gonna think that.”

For a moment, Remus didn’t meet his gaze, feeling a flicker of embarrassment at the vulnerability that had surfaced. “Thanks, James. I didn’t mean to muck things up this early on.”

James gave a light laugh and shrugged. “No need for any more apologies.”

Remus nodded, finally feeling some of the weight lift off his shoulders. “Alright then. Fancy a bit of music?”

“Always,” James said relaxing back into his usual easygoing self.

For the first time, but definitely not the last, Remus thought that James had an eerily profound ability to connect with people. There was something about the way James listened—like he wasn’t just hearing the words but understanding the feelings underneath them. It wasn’t that he said anything particularly groundbreaking, but the matter-of-factness of his words felt like a lifeline as if he’d known exactly what Remus needed to hear without needing to be told.