The Beginning of an Era
“Stand up straight.”
He is standing up straight.
“Walk faster.”
This is as fast as he can go; it’s not his fault she has longer legs than him.
“And wipe that smirk off your face!”
She turns to face him, and Sirius cowers, hating himself for the way he shrinks beneath her gaze- his mother’s gaze. Walburga’s face softens, noticing his fear.
“I don’t mean to shout darling,” she coos, so gently that Sirius almost finds himself believing her, “but you know the Noble House of Black must uphold its honour.”
There it is, that awful honour again. It seems everything Sirius does is dishonourable. He can’t even enjoy the prospect of a new school; with new classmates; where he can learn all kinds of magic, without disappointing his family more.
Walburga is frowning at him again and Sirius feels a stab of annoyance. She is his mother, after all and she used to be better than this, he’s sure of it. She used to laugh when he pulled pranks at the fancy dinners he’d have to go to as a kid but now all she does is frown at him and lecture him about the so- called family honour.
It’s all rubbish as far as Sirius is concerned. He should be running about, making friends and exploring, like all the other kids he can see, sprinting up and down Platform Nine-and-three-quarters, not stuck with his stupid cousins in their stupid compartment, which is where Mother is leading him.
I should be with Reg, Sirius thinks, but Mother insisted they go alone to ‘prevent frivolous and unnecessary displays.’ Mother never lets him have any fun, but Sirius is sure that, when he finally gets to Hogwarts, he’ll be free. And in the meantime, he’ll be damned if he’s going to sit with his poncy relatives. Life at Hogwarts will be different, he’s going to make sure of it.
***
Remus Lupin really didn’t know what to expect of the journey to his new school. He had thought about it a lot, rather too much, in fact, but it hasn’t turned out to be like anything he’d imagined.
For one thing, he hadn’t expected to have to walk through a fucking wall just to get to the platform. In fact, part of him is still wondering if this is all part of some elaborate practical joke.
His mother, Hope, stands on the cobbled stone beside him, as they both stare apprehensively up at the gleaming, red engine before them. She’s nervous, Remus can smell it, but as she turns to him, she plasters on a reassuring smile.
“You’ll do fine.”
“What, only fine?”
“Remus,” she raises her eyebrows, “You’ll do amazing.”
Smiling, she wraps her arms around him.
“Just remember, you have every right to be there, ok? You’re just as good as the rest of them.”
She kisses his forehead.
“Now get on that train before I start crying.”
Remus smiles, but as much as his mother’s words are reassuring, he can’t shake the unease from his bones. The other children he can see on the platform all wear perfect, neat clothes and haul brand new trunks, so large that many kids have their parents levitate them onto the train.
Standing there, in his old sweater, carrying his small, battered suitcase, Remus feels very out of place. After all, the voice in his head sneers, you’re a monster. You might be clean and tidy; you might be wearing freshly - mended clothes; at first sight, you might look harmless, but you know that, just below the surface, you’re a monster. Just a horrible, disgusting, dangerous monster.
He shakes his head. Stupid, he thinks. He should be thinking happy thoughts. He should be excited to start school, like every other kid. Why is he the exception? Because you’re not normal, the voice replies, you don’t belong here and you know it. You should just go home.
***
“Oh fuck,” says Sirius as his 400-galleon leather trunk tips off the rack above his head. “Oh fuck oh fuck OH F-“ CRASH!
A year’s supply of schoolbooks, robes, quills and parchment topple over and fall through the air, smashing down on him and all Sirius can think is, great, now my hair’s going to look like absolute shit at my funeral, as he is crushed beneath their considerable weight.
Luckily for him, though, two boys are hurrying past his compartment at exactly the right time and, through the mess he’s buried under, Sirius can just about hear, “James! James, look!”
Somehow, they’re still not exactly sure how they managed it, the two new boys manage to drag the heavy case off Sirius and he can finally see their faces. They are definitely not what he expected, but then, it’s not like he thought he’d almost be crushed to death by his own trunk today, either.
The taller of the two boys has warm, brown skin and black hair, so messy that he doesn’t appear to have brushed it in months. He wears round glasses and a huge grin and is attractive, in a glowing, cheerful sort of way, despite his dishevelled appearance.
The second one is slightly chubby and has watery blue eyes and round cheeks that gives him an almost doll- like appearance. His blond hair is neat and short, unlike the other boy’s and he stands slightly behind his friend.
Sirius thinks the two couldn’t be more different. While the first one is a ball of energy, messy and bright, the other appears more subdued and is staring at Sirius with unease. Sirius’s gut twists.
However, it turns out they aren’t so different after all as they both help him to his feet, smiling kindly.
“Merlin, that was a great way to start the year,” says the first one, “I’m James, by the way. James Potter the First,” he states proudly.
“You don’t need to put ‘the first’ after your name if there’s only one of you,” the second one says.
“It’s more distinguished,” is the reply.
Sirius wants to say that there is nothing distinguished looking about him but before he can open his mouth, James speaks again.
“This is Peter, in case you were wondering,” he says.
Peter waves awkwardly and Sirius puts out his hand for them both to shake, one by one.
“I’m Sirius,” he says, purposefully leaving out his surname. And then, because he just can’t resist, he adds, “the third.”
James looks delighted by this but Peter steps back, nervous.
“What was your surname again?” he asks cautiously.
And this is the moment Sirius knew would come. The moment he has been dreading.
“Black.” He says.
***
Once he’s on the train, Remus finds it considerably difficult to find an empty compartment. All of them seem to contain clusters of excitedly chattering students, which his mother would is say is great for making ‘new friends’ but Remus thinks is purely inconvenient. He doesn’t like small- talk and he doesn’t like train rides and all he really wants to do is sleep until he reaches Hogwarts.
However, he suddenly notices a plump, ginger girl, sitting alone and, most importantly, wearing normal clothes.
Remus opens the door to her compartment and the girl looks up, startled, before smiling at him as he stands cautiously in the doorway.
She’s extremely pretty, with a freckled face, full lips and startlingly green eyes and she wears a cream coloured top and denim shorts, which are much nicer than Remus’s patched up clothes, but still the most ordinary outfit he has seen of yet.
The girl seems to notice the fact that he isn’t wearing robes because the first thing she says as he sits down is, “excuse me but are you muggle born?”
She says it confidently, but he can tell she’s nervous, so he smiles as he replies, “My dad was a wizard, but he died when I was little. My mum raised me and she’s a muggle.”
“Oh,” the girl looks relieved and gives him a cheeky smile, “it’s just good to finally find someone else, who actually knows who the Beatles are.”
Remus laughs and is about to tell the girl that he honestly can’t believe no one else knows the Beatles, even if wizards do seem to be stuck in the Middle Ages, when the compartment door slams open and a skinny boy with long, black hair enters.
“Oh,” he scowls, “I didn’t realise you were with someone else, Lily.”
The way he says it, combined with his sour expression, shows Remus he clearly isn’t welcome, so he stands up, collects his case and walks to the doorway of the compartment.
“Goodbye Lily,” he says, pleasantly, “I hope I’ll get to see you sometime at school.” And with that, he walks off, leaving the angry boy to glare after him.
The train has, by now, begun to move and Remus thinks he’ll probably get told off if he isn’t in a compartment, so he turns to the nearest one and opens the door, preparing for the worst.
Inside, he sees three people. One of whom, appears to have been in the middle of a story, as his voice trails off as Remus enters. Another one is sitting on the bench next to the first one and turns towards Remus, looking startled to see someone barge in on them. The third bolts up from where he was half lying, sprawled out on one of the benches, a terrified look on his face.
When he sees Remus, however, the fear dissipates as quickly as it came and he drawls, in an accent, the likes of which Remus has only ever heard the queen speak in, “Well fuck. I thought you were related to me for a second, there.”