Rebel Rebel

“Life isn’t fair, darling, nor is it a game.” Said the ever-beautiful Hope Howell, even when she was as run down and exhausted as she was. She was raised in a world of low-life, power-hungry people. The ins and outs of what it means to rise and live amongst those who will never think you’re good enough to have a seat at their table. At least she had a seat at the table, though. If not, she’d never have met John and therefore never had the son that she loves so dearly. 

By the time Remus had come along, Lyall was far gone. Too many bad business deals had him fleeing, but the consequences stayed. Hope and Remus had to bear the brunt of it all. 

“When you see people trying to play that game, Remus, you must run and never look back towards them.”

 If only her son would heed her warning.

.-- --- .-.. ..-. ... - .- .-.

Sweat was dripping down Remus Lupin’s back as he walked back to his mother’s small house. He looked down at the bags in his scarred hands and wondered how long the food inside of them would last the two of them. If they stretched it out and got creative, he figured it would last around three weeks. He tried to convince his mother to let him help out with bills and food, but she would dismiss everything he offered her. Hope was always a prideful woman and never accepted help from anyone. 

“Oi, Rem!” A voice behind him called out, catching his attention. As he turned toward the person, who he recognized to be a bloke from school that he got along with pretty well.

Remus tipped his head back and then back down in greeting with a small smile, “Wotcher, Dean!”

Dean, green-eyed, full-lipped, and with blond hair that seemed blonder in the summer, was objectively attractive for a boy. Not that Remus would ever pay any mind to the physicalities of a bloke. In school, they got on, worked together on a couple of projects, and even tried out for football together (Remus, having been far too clumsy, didn’t make the school’s team but Dean did).

“Alright?” asked Dean as he caught up. “Whatcha got there?”

“I’m alright, just taking these home for mum. Man of the house duties and that,” Remus tried to joke, but he cringed afterward and told himself that he needed to work on the delivery of punchlines more often. They just weren’t his focus to be fair. He hasn’t had the time to joke around much recently, with his mom gone all day at work he took it upon himself to take up maintenance of the garden and the house. All his time outside mowing and weeding has turned his naturally tanned skin darker, as well as his arms and chest which have started to fill out.

“Ride on,”  came Dean’s reply as he nodded good-naturedly. “Me mum doesn’t quite trust me to do that. Says I’m not ‘responsible’ and whatnot.” He and Remus both chuckled, and Remus couldn’t help but agree with a woman he’d never met. 

They continued to walk and talk for another minute, which Remus was more than happy to do as this was the only socialization he’d had with someone his age all break. Dean was one of the only kids in class who would look past the scars that littered Remus’s body and see him as just another kid who was trying to keep up with the never-ending assignments. He was a breath of fresh air with all of the glances and glares that come with hallways filled with hormonal teens. 

Dean looks up at a street sign eventually and tilts his head at it, “This is me.”

Remus gave him a quizzical glance. “Thought yours was two more down?” He asked skeptically.

“Nah, got me a bird who lives down here,” Dean smirked and then turned and started walking down and away from the scarred boy. As he did, Remus wondered if it were mandatory for all of the football players to have arses like that.

Remus shrugged the exchange off and continued his way home, occasionally kicking pebbles with his scuffed boots. He thought about girls who he knew but couldn’t think of one that would be worth hanging out with. His mind came up blank, other than Lily Evans, but she upped and disappeared in year 8. According to her close friends, her father got a promotion at work and they had to move immediately. It was a shame because Remus enjoyed the intelligent conversation she offered and the help she gave him willingly when she could see him struggling in particular situations. They were great mates, but her father didn’t like her talking to him, hence why he found out from a third party that she’d left. 

She only ever looked into his eyes when talking to him, and didn’t stare in disgust at the jagged, pink scars like the others of her gender did. He knew she would become a good person no matter what life threw at her.

As he was dragging his feet up the sidewalk to his mother’s house, he noticed a shiny and most likely new car next to the well-loved, second-hand Ford Capri. 

Odd, he thought, who the fuck would be driving that thing around here. Remus couldn’t tell you the brand, all he could tell was that it was expensive and stood out like a dog’s bollocks. Through its windows, he could see tan leather seats and a shiny radio dial. The only object in the car was a briefcase that was either brand-new or meticulously taken care of.

Proceeding with caution, Remus went inside. ”Hey, mum,” he yelled into the house, “who’s fancy car is that in the drive?” He continued into the kitchen, where he was going to start putting the produce away, but when he entered the room he stopped short when he saw a man leaning against a counter talking to his mother.

The man was tall but not as tall as Remus, his skin was wrinkled and his hair was greying. His eyes then moved over to his mother and stared at her with raised eyebrows. She was fidgeting in her seat and not meeting his eyes.

“Erm…” she started, rather uncomfortably, “Well, Remus, uhm, this is your father.”

He blinked slowly and echoed, “Father?” He turned back towards the stranger and his alleged father and started looking for similarities. They had the same nose, their eyes were the same color and they shared the same tanned hue in their skin.

“Yes, Remus, my boy-”

“‘M not your boy,” Remus denied while interrupting him. 

“Remus!” his mother’s voice cut sharply.

The man’s face filled with red, the scarred boy couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or from the fact that he was interrupted. He looked to be a stern man who took no bullshit from anyone.

Remus didn’t apologize, but he did nod his head at the man for him to continue.

“Right,” the man sighed. “Well, your mother and I had an agreement that after you turned sixteen you would finish out your year in your current school and that after summer was over, you would finish your schooling at the boarding school I graduated from.”

Remus’s only reaction was to bark out a laugh because surely this had to be some sick joke his mother was pulling on him, but one look at her had him sobering up.

“You cannot actually be serious right now. What makes you think I am going to do that?” He continued, “You leave for sixteen years and then come back, and what? Expect me to just go with it? Well, fuck that.”

“You don’t have a choice, darling,” Interjected his mother. “You have to go with him.”

Lyall’s face was still red, and his eye was starting to twitch. “We'll be leaving today,” he asserted. “You have half an hour to gather things and say goodbye to your mother. You won’t need to pack clothes, there’s already some at my residence for the month leading up to your departure to St. Francis’s. We will have to get you fitted for the uniform, but other than that, all of your school supplies are already acquired.”

“I already said no,” Remus dared to say. “I’m not fu-” 

His head jerked to the side as the sting set in from the slap he’d received from his father. From the corner of his eye, he could see his mother flinch but do nothing else to help her son. 

“You will mind your tongue and do as you are told,” sneered Lyall, right into the ear of his son. “You will treat me with respect. I am giving you an education that will help you get ahead in life. You should be grateful.” The man pulled away and smoothed out his shirt. “I would recommend you start grabbing your things, Remus.”

 Remus didn’t look at either of them as he went upstairs to his small room that was cluttered with things he had collected throughout his childhood. He looked on his bed and saw a new duffle that he knew Lyall would have had to bring for him. He spun around his room and the only things he dared to bring with him were the few books that he and his mother had scrounged up enough money to buy new.

Hope had eventually gained the courage to come into his room to talk to him.

“Darling,” she whispered and reached a hand out to touch his arm, which he jerked away from her hand. She looked ashamed as she confessed, “I had no choice, Remus. It was a legal contract and the only way he’d let me keep you here with me as long as you have been.”

Remus sighed, his shoulders sagged and he looked down. He took a second to breathe and let himself think before he turned to her and hugged her tight to him. “Sorry, Mum. I just don't want to leave you,” he breathed. “God, I’ve known him all of five minutes and I can just tell he’s horrible, Mum, just horrible.”

His mother pulled back and smiled at him, “You’ll be fine. You learn quickly, I know you can avoid it if you behave.” She cupped his face and pulled his head down so she could kiss his forehead. “I love you, darling,” she said softly against his skin.

He could feel the burn of tears trying to escape his eyes, but he knew he couldn’t let that happen. He had to seem strong in front of the man who he was supposed to call his father, there would be no weakness allowed from now on. “You too,” he said softly as he hugged his mother one last time. He was uncertain when he would be able to do it again.

.-- --- .-.. ..-. ... - .- .-.

The two-hour drive from his mother’s home to his father’s residence was silent and tense. Remus sat ramrod straight while staring out the window and Lyall never turned on the radio. The bench seat seemed to stretch on for miles with the space between them. A gap was there, had been since the day Lyall left Hope and their unborn baby, and neither man hedged to close it. 

“So,” a rough voice broke through the ringing silence, “There is a strict schedule at St. Francis that you will have to adhere to or there will be punishments given. Unfortunately, they have decided to disband their corporal punishments, but I have been told that they are still severe.”

Remus said nothing back, he had nothing to comment on. The only sign that showed that he was listening was the fact that he’d tilted his head ever so slightly towards Lyall. Some higher power out there had to be punishing him for a mistake in some past life, he just didn’t understand why he had to take the punishment in this life.

His father bulldozed on though, “We’ll whip you into shape. Can’t have you going in there acting like a clueless josser. While you’re staying with me, you’ll live by the schedule and learn the proper manners that everyone there will be following- that’s if their parents gave a shite about them and taught them how to behave.”

You never gave a shite about me, thought Remus, so maybe I’ll be the least mannered one there. 

At his son’s silence, Lyall reached over and pulled harshly on his ear and didn’t let go.

“Ow!” hissed Remus, “What the hell was that for?”

Lyall gave one last hard tug to the abused ear and let go of it, returning his hand to the wheel. “Mind. Your. Tongue.” he ground out. “You will acknowledge me when I am speaking to you. ‘Yes, sir’ and ‘No, sir,’ will work just fine. Understand, Remus?”

Remus gave a curt nod and answered, “Yes, sir.” 

That satisfied the man enough for the rest of the awkward drive. When they finally pulled up to a house that was nowhere near worthy of the title estate, but it was also nowhere close to the house Remus had grown up in. He could tell that professional gardeners had taken care of every inch of the outdoor space, neat lines up and down the yard, bushes trimmed to faultless round shapes, and flowers bright and well-watered. The brick was clean and bare of any dark smudges that would just appear overtime on his mother’s house. 

Remus grabbed his book-filled duffle bag and stepped out of the car. As he followed his father up to the front door he looked around at the surrounding houses that were spaced out around them. They all looked like they weren’t lived in and were just used for the summer.

The creak of the door opening caught his attention so he stepped in after Lyall. The first thing Remus noticed in the house was how little personality it had. There were no pictures on the walls, no shoes near the door, and no color. The walls were cream and the floors were a dark glossy wood in every room. As his father showed him around he noticed any color accents that could have been present in, what he’s sure his father called decor, could just easily blend into the background and disappear. It was like all the life left in Remus would be sucked out of him just like everything else in this house. 

Lyall took Remus up the stairs to where his room would be and pushed the door open. Inside his room was better than whatever was going on downstairs, in here the walls were a faint maroon color and the wardrobe and bed frame were the same light wood with similar details etched into them. Remus thought they were almost beautiful if they weren’t in this ugly house. There was a maroon quilt on the bed that had golden stitches in intricate patterns throughout it. In the corner, there was an empty bookcase where Remus could put his books, which he was grateful for, at the end of his bed was a trunk with an odd-looking crest that Remus couldn’t quite decipher. 

Seeing Remus’s eyes on the trunk, Lyall explained, “That, son, is what you will be taking with you to St. Francis. We’ll get you fitted for the uniform tomorrow, after lunch. I’ll leave you here for now. Bathroom is down the hall on the right, wash up before dinner. It’ll be served at exactly eight. Do you have any questions?”

“No, sir,” answered Remus while shaking his head slightly.

.-- --- .-.. ..-. ... - .- .-.

The next month was a personal hell for Remus. 

His father made him wake up at 5:00 in the morning, then, no more than five minutes later he had to be out of the house and started on an hour-long jog. If he were even a minute late, Lyall would make him sit and write one hundred lines of ‘I shall not be late, it is disrespectful and ugly.’ If his handwriting started to get sloppy then he would earn the slap of a ruler on the back of his hand. It’s a sting he has gotten used to because his father never thinks anything he does is good enough. 

After he got back from his jog he had fifteen minutes to shower and prepare himself for the day. If he took longer than fifteen minutes he wasn’t allowed to have his breakfast of tasteless porridge, which sometimes he was grateful for but most of the time his stomach was not. Once breakfast was over, he had to do any lines or manner training. Who knew learning to sit straight was so difficult, and don’t even get him started on when to use what fork. 

God, he couldn’t wait to get away from his father. 

All of the meals he wasn’t too late for were always bland. For someone who seemed to have money, didn’t he have enough to afford seasonings?

The answer was no. He could afford a chef but not any seasonings.

Luckily for Remus though, he is leaving for the aforementioned school this morning. First, there is an hour's ride to the train station with the only train that reaches the remote town next to the school. It was a requirement that everyone who was attending the school had to be on the same train. Which Remus thought was really odd, but he guessed that’s just what rich people did.

He was able to sleep in until 5:30 and his run was shortened by half. He could also taste a hint of something in his porridge, which he was almost certain was cinnamon. He had to be dressed in his uniform which he wasn’t too bothered by. Thanks to the tailoring, it fit him nicely, the arms of the shirt reached all the way down to his wrists and the trousers didn’t stop before his ankles. The leather shoes had to be broken in before he could be completely comfortable wearing such clothes.

After he was done eating, his father told him to grab his trunk and duffle from his room to bring down to the car. He loaded everything in the boot and then himself into the passenger seat of the car. Much like when he was first brought to his father’s residence, the car ride was silent inside. He could kill for some of the music his mother used to play in the car and around the house. The radio had been one of his favorite things at his mother’s house. The two of them would crank the dob and dance around in the evening if Hope wasn’t too tired after working all day. Those memories were some of his most treasured.

Pulling up to the crowded station Remus looked around at all the different people going in and out, and he wondered what led them all to be here. Was it work? Family? Or were some like him, and were at the station for something they couldn’t control? 

His eyes were caught by three boys wearing casual attire who seemed to be his age. One of the boys was short, round, and had blond hair that he combed and slicked to the side. Another looked to be as tall as Remus, almost towering over the other two, his hair was messy and wild, sticking up every which way. And then there was the final boy.

Remus thought that, objectively, he was the most striking to look at. His dark hair was a contrast to his light and pale skin, even from the distance Remus could tell his eyes were a steely grey. Overall the boy had a thin build with narrow hips and long limbs, but his frame didn’t make him lanky, unlike Remus. There was something about him that Remus couldn’t put words to, so he tried not to think about it too much.

His attention turned to the luggage they all carried that was similar to his. They must all be going to St. Francisas well, he thought, but why aren’t they in their uniforms? 

He was brought out of his reverie by the gruff voice of his father, “Well, Remus, this is where I leave you.” He handed him the ticket to his train. Lyall cleared his throat and continued to say, “Be sure to be on your best behavior, don’t let me hear anything about you stepping out of line or disrespecting your superiors. Understand?”

“Yes, sir, I understand,” he sighed as he took his ticket. 

“Right, well grab your things and start your way in.” And that was the final thing his father said to him before he drove off. 

Remus looked at the ticket in his left hand and it made him think, Nine and three-quarters? What does that even mean? As he dragged his trunk in and through the station, his question wasn’t answered, it was the only section labeled with fractions. His father made them arrive a bit early so there wasn’t much of a line to get into the train. That also meant he had no trouble finding an empty compartment to settle into.

The aisle outside of his compartment started to become busy with rowdy boys and girls. Most were wearing the same uniform as him, but there were a lot in casual attire. To help pass the time, Remus pulled a book out of his duffle bag. It’s one he hasn’t gotten to start reading, but the store clerk said it was a good read and thought-provoking.

He was just about to turn the page when someone slid the door to the compartment open and leaned against it. “Mind if me and my mates join?” said the smooth voice that had Remus looking up. If Remus thought the boy was intriguing far away, he thought more so now that they were face to face. He had black eyeliner smudged around his eyes that made them pop more than they probably already did without. His black hair was smooth and shiny, Remus could tell he cared about it. And his lips, god, Remus knew he shouldn’t be noticing them but they were nice and full and looked soft.

Remus must have been staring too long because the boy started to smirk.

Realizing he had yet to respond, he just nodded dumbly.

“My name is Sirius, Sirius Black,” he stated as he sauntered to stand in front of Remus and held his hand out to shake. “And you are?”

And maybe Remus took an extra second too long to respond and grab Sirus’s hand, but he’d never tell anyone that. “Remus. Lupin- Remus Lupin,” he stammered with red cheeks, and then quickly let go of Sirius’s hand.

“Cute,” was all Sirius responded with.

“Oh, Sirius, leave the poor bloke alone,” interrupted a new voice, forcing Remus to notice that the other two boys Sirius had come in with were waiting outside the door. “‘M James, by the way. And that there is Peter,” he said pointing to the short blond boy who smiled and waved. “Don’t mind Sirius, he’s… something when he meets new people.”

“Oi, I’m still standing right here,” Sirius emphasized indignantly. 

Peter waved him off, “You’ll survive, James has said worse.”

Sirius slumped into the seat next to Remus. “Screw you, Pettigrew,” he said while flipping off the other boy, but Remus saw a small smile on his face. 

They all must be very close friends, Remus mused, Wonder what that’s like.