First Year- Nosy
Remus falls asleep at his desk and dreams about something he can't remember by the time he wakes up.
He falls asleep on his letter home, his cheek pressed into the parchment so heavily for so long that when he wakes up at around three in the morning, the letter is lifted up with him. He peels it from his face and continues where he left off: not at all overstating James' confidence that previous afternoon when he asked an older student to buy the boys something from Hogsmeade, and laying out their scores and wagers in exploding snap. Remus has a tiny urge to add a couple of tallies to his name on the scoreboard now that everyone's asleep. He knows, however, that they’re all vigilant and protective of those scores and would notice if they were tampered with.
He tells his parents that it's actually Romulus' fault that he fell asleep while writing their letter as he just got Remus so worked up in the day. He's sleeping positioned like an idiot so Remus tells them that too. Actually, all the boys are lying strangely- half dangling off the edge of their beds, or their arms and legs in the air, or their heads turned upwards and snores loud. Remus hopes to God he doesn't look like that when he sleeps or at least if he does, no one is up like he is to see.
There's a pitter patter of light, little feet and Remus squints in the dark to see Steven running about the place. Most mornings, that sound is what he wakes up to although today, he knows it'll be the sharp buzz of James' alarm, set for only less than three hours from now. He wants to play Quidditch, see. And drag the rest of them with him. Early, early, early in the morning to get there first and have it to themselves for at least an hour. Remus would like to put it out there now that he was first to object and that he's a brilliant friend of James and Sirius' for doing it anyway.
So he should go back to sleep, shouldn't he? Ideally in a bed this time. He's just not that tired anymore though, having been writing and using his brain too much.
The letter is a little all over the place but he sends it off attached to the leg of one tired Pixie who flies off with a few disgruntled hoots, both from being woken from her sleep and from Steven who jumps at but doesn't quite reach her.
Remus watches the little owl become just a speck in the sky for a little while before ultimately deciding that he'd like to leave too. He's sure that the boys won't mind if he goes out extravagansing without them just this once. He's also sure that they'd just be mad they got woken up if Remus were to ask if they'd like to come anyway. Also, unlike the tallies, they won't find out unless Remus tells them about it. And a walk would be good to clear his head from he doesn't quite know what's bothering him. Maybe it's just a sneaky feeling like how Pandora sometimes describes happens to her.
He got to witness one of her visions just the other day. Like Evan said, it wasn't anything too major or debilitating for her, only shaking just a little and not blinking very often. This made her eyes dry and eventually water once she was snapped out of it. She wouldn't say what the vision was about but again, like Evan said, she went exceptionally quiet when questioned which made Remus wonder if it was about either of them who were the only ones there with her during it.
All of the boys are snoring which Remus is both amused and annoyed at as snoring is only for old men like Dad (he's silenced with magic for the sake of his family). Romulus only snores a little- Remus knows this because they've always shared a room. He's sure that the others are just like him but collectively, it's as if there's a small motor in the dorm.
Steven runs over his toes and Remus follows him with his eyes around the dim room. When he comes to a stop by the door to groom himself, Remus pounces, grabbing the cat by his armpits and lifting him up to eye level. Maybe Stevens has grown out of his distaste towards Remus or it's just that the trick is to try it in the dark, but Steven lets Remus hold him for about ten seconds before writhing out of his grasp and back onto the floor- nine more than ever before.
Remus goes for it again after locating Steven in the dark again and again, Steven is held. Longer this time too. He's a lot heavier than the last time Remus picked him up almost two months ago. He manoeuvres the cat to be cradled just how Romulus holds him and Steven only struggles for a second, eventually settling and looking up to ‘the tolerable one’s’ doppelganger.
Remus tickles Steven’s little tummy and shakes his front paws and draws a line from the tip of his nose up to the crown of his head, all of which Steven seems to be enjoying. The months of neglect are now a distant memory to Remus and he thinks both he and Steven can respectfully move on from it.
He's about to whisper to the little guy to ask if he'd like to come out and about the castle with him but he wriggles back down to the floor once again and Remus leaves him be.
A long time ago (about two years previous when he and Romulus became functioning people) Remus learnt that absolutely everything sounds louder at night. They'd be creeping down the stairs and suddenly they're the creakiest things, or the sweets tin will scrape and shuffle more than it did in the day. As he opens the dorm door and it squeaks, Remus remembers this classic rule of sneaking out.
His footsteps, his breath, his stomach- Remus clamps his hand over his mouth as he descends down to the common room, knowing he's overcompensating as no one can really hear any of that up the stairs and through the walls, and if anyone could hear, they wouldn't care what business some scared first year has doing up at three in the morning.
However, once he's downstairs he sees someone asleep on the armchair, a blanket loosely tossed over them and the fire still going. Having made it this far, Remus decides not to turn back. Whoever it is only looks to be a third year at the very oldest; it'd be worse if they were much older or a prefect.
Still, Remus tip-toes carefully to the back of the fat lady's portrait, only realising now that he'd be waking her up trying to get out. The frame is fully open by now though and it's too late to turn around so Remus steps out onto the landing.
“Sorry.” He whispers to the fat lady. She rolls her eyes wildly and crosses her arms.
“Do you think you could just stay in your frame for a little while? I'll need to come back inside in a few minutes.”
She leans forward and sneers, never actually this mean in the daytime. “Don't tell me where to stay or go, young man. I'm staying here out of my own free will to continue my sleep that you so desperately needed to interrupt.”
Remus awkwardly nods and takes a few steps backward before turning around and creeping up and down the landing.
It's very dark there, only a few torches across the way lighting up the walkways and their balconies looking out onto the staircases. So Remus illuminates the tip of his wand and shakily holds it ahead of him so as to not walk off the stairs by accident or something.
What he's doing, Remus isn't quite sure. Distracting, occupying, wearing himself out before bed. Clearing his head from he doesn't even know what. Maybe from the uneasy feeling although he's fairly sure that uneasiness is a result of the risk and rush of doing something as positively reckless as this. He shudders at the idea of getting caught alone with no one to share the blame with.
He walks and thinks with his hands behind his back, index fingers hooked around each other, eventually coming to the conclusion that he'll masquerade as Romulus should he be caught.
Slowly, Remus makes his way down half a flight of stairs. He cautiously takes one step, waits, then takes another. About twenty times before he's bet with a bend in the stairs and there's another twenty steps waiting to be alighted. He retreats instead, saving that journey for when he's older and braver, or less alone.
After two laps of the length of this side of the landing, Remus still feels terribly on edge. Maybe a vision will come to him, who knows? Oh, Remus would love a vision. About his future, or the boys’. It would be brilliant and he'd come skipping back telling them all who they'll marry and what they'll do for work. He could probably speed up the processes, introducing the future husbands to their future wives now. God, he'd be like the ultimate, most accurate matchmaker.
He shuts his eyes hard and clenches his fists and tries to nudge the reverie along but his thoughts are too scattered between subjects to group them into one quiet box.
Then, he remembers back to Pandora. She wasn't doing all of this when her vision came along. She actually had her eyes open and her body seemed pretty relaxed. So, Remus shakes out his arms and leans against the wall, staring at the other end of the landing distantly.
After a minute of that, Remus gets bored. Visions shouldn't be boring, they should be exciting so clearly, he's doing something wrong.
So next, he sits on the floor with his back against the wall. He puts his hands on his knees and urges it to come again, focusing at least a few thoughts on what he'd like to envision- his brother, work, love- and really, really hopes that this is how it works.
His eyes grow dry so he closes them, feeling a small wave of tiredness hitting him almost immediately. He grins, wiggles his shoulders and sits still, patiently waiting for images to come flying at him any minute now. It's not for about three minutes that Remus realises that actually he's just tired.
Fine! He yells in his untalented head. He just won't be confident in his future then, will he? He'll have to beg Pandora harder next time for the answers to it all.
Now a fan of late-night walks as they do really work, Remus trundles on back to the dorm, past the fat lady who grovels again at him. The boy on the armchair is still there having not moved an inch in the roughly fifteen minutes that Remus spent outside.
He wishes Romulus was here. It's quite easy to stay quiet when he's by himself (something he's only now finding out as he's never by himself) when there's no one around to laugh at nothing. He'll just wake Romulus up next time because he now realises that company is worth the giving out.
Finally, back upstairs in the dorm, Remus changes into pyjamas which he neglected to do that evening before starting his letter home. They're fluffy, green and white ones that Hope and Lyall sent and that fulfil the needs that the November air brings.
Remus is starting to miss his parents more and more now. He misses the routine that comes with them: wake up, breakfast on the table, drive to school. Oh, he misses driving. It's pointless with apparation on the table but they do it anyway for the- Remus doesn't know- fun? It's really fun.
It's about five seconds that Remus spends under the covers before he's conked out and drooling all over his pillow.
•••
“WAKE UP!”
Remus wants to kill all books all for the one that taught James how to amplify his voice. He uses it much too much.
There's a resounding groan from the boys excluding James and Sirius who are already up and jumping around each other. Remus won't be surprised if they just fuse into one person one of these days.
He grudgingly sits up and rubs his eyes, flattens his hair, rolls his shoulders, yawns until his jaw hurts; waking up is neither something that Remus likes or is good at.
His eyes sting from the top-bright lights overhead. He doesn't quite remember falling asleep so it feels as though his head hit the pillow and he's already being woken up. What he does remember is his little stroll in the middle of the night which he now sort of regrets as he'd have liked an extra few minutes of sleep.
James and Sirius are dressed and gunning to get out the door so Remus tries his best to catch up as fast as he can. He's focused until Peter starts howling laughing at him.
“Didn’t take you for being into tattoos, Remus.” He taunts, pointing a finger at his own side of his face.
“Are you going to make me get the same ones?” Romulus asks.
Remus runs to the bathroom which is when he sees it: lines and lines of his own handwriting imprinted on his cheek from where he had fallen asleep on his letter. The black ink isn't at all faded, actually very dark and apparent on his face, albeit just a little smudged. He can make out a lot of his letter, words like ‘Dear Mum and Dad’ and ‘Romulus is very, very annoying’. The latter is what Remus starts scrubbing at first because as much as it's very true, Remus isn't too keen on having it permanently on his face. But yes, yes he would make Romulus get the same tattoo.
He comes into the bathroom after a few seconds and he tries to hold Remus' head under the stream of the tap. He emerges out of breath and with a red, slightly irritated face and pushes his brother to fall into a urinal so he's pretty sure he won that round.
The boys are completely ready by the time the twins return to the dorm. It's quarter past six in the morning and they're being much too loud for people living among people.
“Hop aboard, Padfoot!” James declares, hunkering down just a little as Sirius stands on the edge of his bed, jumping onto James' back to be carried after a second or two of preparation. He wraps his arms around James' neck and gets secure in his place with James' hands under his knees.
James wobbles a little, being a little guy with such scrawny arms. Nevertheless, Sirius crosses his ankles on James' stomach and points ahead to the door.
“Tally ho, Potter, ye noble steed! Should we start calling you Steed?”
“I dunno.” James ponders. “Doesn't quite roll off the tongue as well as Padfoot.”
Sirius takes James' hair in his hands like reins.
The door proves to be a challenge: James can't get it open without dropping Sirius, and Sirius can't reach without falling forward. It ends with Romulus coming forward and opening it for them.
“Did any of you take anything away from the flying lessons?” Peter nervously asks as they make their way through the castle.
Remus finds it strange that it's only a little brighter than it was three hours ago when he went out, but its acceptable to be out now and not then although he supposes curfew has to end at some point after all.
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Me neither.”
Respond the twins. The three walk behind James and Sirius who lead the way out to the Quidditch pitch that the others had no reasons nor intentions to go near so naturally, don't know the way.
They've decided to don their red and gold jerseys for their self-led lesson this morning. Remus just put on a simple pair of jeans and long sleeved shirt, half expecting a lay into about proper flying attire meh meh meh, and yet fully expecting James and Sirius being too wrapped up in each other and the empty pitch to themselves to do so.
“I think the lessons made me know less about flying.” Peter worriedly says, running his fingers through his hair once.
“And more about how petrifying heights are.” Romulus adds and the three laugh.
When Mrs. Norris turns the corner, Remus has to remind himself profusely that they're allowed to be out. Usually, she pesters Sirius, not pushed if they were out before or past curfew. Seeing as he's still hiked up on James’ back, she targets Remus.
He steps over her the best he can although it's like this cat wants to be stepped on as she won't stop weaving in and out of his feet. Her tail swipes his shins and he has to jog ahead to get away- Filch would have him executed if he hurt the rotten cat. Remus really hopes Steven and Gary won't turn out like her. Maybe they will if they keep hanging around with Romulus.
It's cold when they get outside and it's even worse when they're on the way to the pitch. The sky threatens rain and the air feels wet as if it already has fallen. It's grey and foggy and Remus hardly thinks it's safe to fly about in such low visibility.
The twins hold either of Peter's sleeves as they walk the rugged path- Remus is considering asking Sirius for a turn on James' back. James, for an eleven year old boy standing at 4 '9 (he's proud of this as he's just taller than Sirius and Peter and way taller than the twins), is very strong. Every so often, he'll stop for a second to jump Sirius up so that he won't fall but so far, he hasn't actually put him down to the ground yet. Remus with his chicken feet arms watches in awe.
They've made plans to switch for the way back- James on Sirius' back- and have made more plans to walk everywhere like this. Remus is also considering a similar deal with Romulus.
There's a broom storage shed near the entrance to the stands which is where James leads them first. Only he and Sirius have brooms of their own while the others find crappy spare ones that the school provides for students who are keen on staying on the ground.
Remus can confidently say he prefers the ground as he's been far up in the sky before. Further than they were allowed during flying lessons, years ago when Lyall took the boys on his broom one at a time. Remus hated it, kept getting that questionable urge to lean too far to the side and freefall. Romulus hated it, kept thinking a plane would come and they'd be grinded down through their engines. Lyall told his sons that they were too young for such irrational anxiety.
They get their brooms, borrow some gloves and get going. Sirius is finally on his own two feet and is made to carry the ball box out into the middle of the pitch.
Quickly and care-free, James swings his leg over his broom and takes off into the slightly less extreme fog; Remus maintains his caution.
Sirius holds up a Quaffle and nods to Remus. “Do you want a Bludger? I assume not.”
“You know me too well, Padfoot.”
He grins and throws the Quaffle over to Remus who holds it against his hip and stands awkwardly with the others. James is whizzing about, going in and out of sight and the low clouds that are now beginning to pass.
Sirius gets on his broom and flies over to Remus, high enough so that his feet are at eye level.
“Get on, come on, we didn't wake up this early for you to just watch.”
Remus remembers now that he's tired. Very tired. There's still an hour and a half left of time where he could have been sleeping. He's hungry too which means he'll have to stay hungry for two hours. Yeah, he's definitely going to resist harder next time.
“I'm okay with just watching.” He tells Sirius, looking up at him.
“Come on.” Sirius whines, pouting. He points at the broom by Remus' feet. “Swing your leg over.” He instructs to which Remus rolls his eyes at.
“I know how to do it. I'm scared, not stupid.”
“There's nothing to be scared about. You'd have to actively be trying to fall off to get anywhere near doing it. Just do it.”
“I don't like this pressure you're putting on me.”
Actually, Remus doesn't care that much about the pressure. It's not a lot of pressure as none of their vocabularies are fortified enough to make some real threats. Remus is just a little annoyed that Sirius' sore attempts are only being directed at him.
Sirius puts his hands up in surrender. “I'll turn around if you're going to be such a shy-flyer.”
If Sirius was on the ground right now, he'd be getting a signature hit over the back of his head.
“Absolutely not!” Remus cries. “You are going to stay here and watch to tell me when I'm messing up.”
Sirius laughs out loud and lowers himself down to still just a little bit taller than Remus.
“I thought you knew how to do it.” He smugly says and Remus gives him that hit. “Not well!”
With more coercion, Remus gets on his broom with Romulus and Peter, who are in their own conversation, behind him.
For just a heart-racing moment, Remus has liftoff before he commands the broom back down and his feet safely on the ground.
James, way above them, is calling for Sirius to hurry up and searching for the snitch in the dark air.
More reassurance, more bargaining, more beratement and Remus is hovering again. He bends his knees a little and holds on tight to the handle of the rickety broom. He wishes now that he let Lyall buy him a new one as then he'd at least be sure that it was of good quality and not at the risk of breakdown and/or mid-air snapping in half.
Romulus and Peter get in the air at the same pace as Remus but they get to slowly moving about faster despite Remus making Sirius stay by his side while he figures it out. A change in mentors would be nice though as Sirius is getting more and more taunting in how he teaches.
“Mighty Merlin, Remus, you just go up!”
A little, little, little bit at a time, Remus ascends, only so slowly because he's so focused on his feet and how the ground comes further and further away from it.
“There, look: you're a natural.” Sirius grins once Remus is up at his height. He pats Remus' back which makes the broom nudge a little ahead which he compensates by pulling it back again by its tail. Remus would very much like to throw up.
“Says you.” He groans.
“Wanna see me go upside down?”
“You mean do I want to see you fall and die? A little bit, yes.”
In an instant, Sirius has his knees bent around the handle of his broom and he's dangling off the other end, one hand holding one ankle for security. Remus almost loses balance just looking at him. With the other hand, he reaches down to the ground and wiggles his fingers.
“Sirius!” Remus shrieks. “You're actually going to fall and die, get back up!”
Although he says, “You're going to make me fall with all your yappering!” Sirius pulls himself back up to sit- still dangerously- on his broom again. Remus trundles back to his brother and Peter after this.
They're going at a much more slow, controlled pace which Remus greatly needs. Peter has a grasp on how to control his broom better than Romulus who is white knuckling his handle, clenching his jaw so hard that he just might bite through it, and going so slow that Remus thinks he could pass him even on foot. He goes at an identical pace.
Remus would have liked an extra few layers and an extra bit of sleep. He thinks a particular vision would have come in handy for predicting this weather, this tiredness so that he could have known to just go to bed rather than wander about for so long.
“This is terrifying.” He decides, bringing himself back down to the damp grass.
“Who invented this?” Asks Peter. “They should be put in prison.”
“How is this fun?” Asks Romulus. “How does anyone fly and not feel constantly anxious that they're going to fall?”
“They probably do feel anxious, just too proud to admit it. Bloody Gryffindors.”
“We're Gryffindors too though.”
“But we're that subset of Gryffindors that read and actually use their brains.”
“They use their brains! Just for different things.”
“For use as a Bludger.”
The boys snicker and Romulus and Peter take off a little higher, their bravery spiked. Remus hovers about a foot above the ground and watches, figuring that just flying is enough and he doesn't have to do anything extravagant with it.
He watches Romulus and Peter lazily throw the Quaffle between them, using their wands to bring it back whenever one over or undershoots.
He watches Sirius and James weave around each other and in and out of the passing but still low clouds. He can't imagine how cold it is on their faces going as fast as they are.
James dives to the ground and pulls himself back up at the last minute. Sirius goes upside down again. They both attempt to do a trapeze act with Sirius being held off a broom by James'.
After a little while, they take out the Snitch and promptly lose it. Remus spots it shimmering and flapping about much further away from where the boys are searching. Catching it himself would be really funny, wouldn't it? And to fly egotistically over and hand it to the boys, say ‘is this what you were looking for?’. That, of course, involves going higher than what he's now comfortable with so, Remus refrains.
The pitch is generally quiet. Each of the boys are chattering amongst themselves and Remus is content with taking it all in, a little too drained to do much more. James told them that there'd be others coming to practice before breakfast later too, and that he didn't check the roster and they'll just have to hope that it's not the Slytherin team.
But then, there's a shout from behind. From the two boys who were flying slowly. From Romulus.
Peter is rubbing his face, Romulus is looking pale and holds his palm under his nose that is dripping blood. Peter too goes pale when he sees it and Remus can feel a similar reaction spark in his throat when Romulus starts to speak.
“Owie, owie, owie! Peter!”
“I'm sorry!”
Romulus shakes his other hand rapidly and whines through gritted teeth.
In an instant Remus is up where Romulus and Peter are, going so fast that he hardly has time and room enough to slow to a stop, almost crashing into them both. Romulus looks at him with a shocked look on his face and begins to cry. And cry and cry until his face is a mess of blood and snot and tears and freightenment. He raises hand closer to his spilling nostrils, the blood in his palm dripping down his wrist and under his sleeve. He cries even harder when the heel of his palm hits the tip of his nose.
Remus starts to cry too. He always cries when Romulus gets hurt (when Romulus gets hurt outside of when Remus causes it, that is). He thinks it's because Romulus is physically just a mirror image of Remus, and seeing himself crying when he's not really must trigger something in his head. Their parents say that they were such nuisance babies because when one cried or needed something, the other did too.
Peter takes the end of Romulus' broom and brings it down a little, escorting all three of them back to the ground. Romulus sits once they get there and Remus does too, practically in his brother's lap. He thanks God that he was too far away to hear the snap of one bone into a billion and one pieces.
Peter is clearly panicking. He's got a bright red patch on his face from where Romulus must have crashed into, and there's a tiny speckle of blood that marks the collision. He's also shaking his hands by his sides and his lips are pursed tightly into a fine line.
Romulus continues whining and groaning and crying along with Remus right by his side. It takes a minute for James and Sirius to catch on and come flying down too. Romulus looks up to them with scared, bloodshot eyes and all James can find it in himself to say anything other than a curt, “Oh.”
Sirius leans forward with his hands on his thighs.
“That's broken.” He declares.
“Are you sure?” Peter asks. A broken nose, holy cow.
“I'm sure he's sure!” Romulus barks. “Ow!”
Sirius nods. “I'm sure.”
Remus wipes his face from the not-at-all excessive tears that still stream.
“Where are you hurt?” James asks him.
“Nowhere.”
“But you're crying.”
“I know I'm crying!”
It's left at that.
“Peter, are you fine?”
“I'm fine. What do we do?”
“Go to the infirmary.”
“That's so far.”
“We could fly to the window of it-”
Romulus' attention is caught immediately. He's brought back from staring at his red hands (Remus figured that that practically coma-like state was the first step towards death) and he snaps his head up to James.
“Absolutely not, never again.” He tells him.
“We'll walk, it's not too far.” Remus sniffles.
“I'm not walking.
”
“You broke your nose, Romulus, not your legs-” Sirius scolds, all but standing with his hands on his hips and glasses at the end of his nose, waiting to be pushed up to the bridge with his index. “You can walk.”
“No I can't, actually. Carry me, James.” Romulus scoffs, all but scrunching his hands at James like a baby.
James makes an odd face but Sirius is the one to interject first.
“But-!”
They all know he can't and won't deny the terribly injured one but Sirius still takes a second to deliberate in his head.
“Fine.”
Romulus stands shakily to his feet, wincing at the pain in his nose every time he breathes or takes a particularly heavy step towards James. Remus also stands, holding his brother's hand tight. Of course, because Romulus obviously needs it right now more than him. Obviously.
James puts his hands up at an approaching Romulus. “Eh- blood makes me feel all funny.” He shudders, rolling his shoulders for effect.
“I'll be on your back.”
“But it'll get all over me.”
Gesturing to his massacred face, “All over you?” Romulus scoffs.
James heaves and gives in just the same as Sirius. Maybe breaking a bone is the solution to everything. Remus wonders if he'll have this treatment all day.
He looks as James looks increasingly uncomfortable. He was thinking about giving Romulus a piggy back earlier, wasn't he? What better of a time to suggest than now? Especially if it'll show how much he cares.
“I'll carry you.” Remus tells Romulus, pulling him back towards him by his sleeve.
Romulus laughs and winces again, fingers squeezing his nostrils together.
“You can't do it.” He says nasally.
“I definitely can, I promise you.”
Romulus weighs nothing because Remus weighs nothing; they're both the smallest in the year. But having no meat to their bones means no muscle either and Remus feels like he's the one most on the brink of death after about ten yards.
His arms hurt, his legs hurt, although he doesn't think he's winning in the nose-pain category. Romulus clings onto Remus with his chin resting on his head and Remus can feel him flinch every few steps.
“Hanging in there, Rom?”
“More or less. You?”
“Oh, I'm brilliant.”
Remus has to try to walk smoothly which means he walks slowly and all in all, it takes almost forty minutes to walk twenty.
More people are up by this point. There's a few teachers, a lot of students. James and Sirius were definitely disappointed about having to raincheck the Quidditch but after seeing the Slytherin team come ready for practice, they seemed glad that they left early. Remus, however, was slightly disappointed that he wouldn't get to see that overconfident argument play out.
Some comment on Romulus' nose and face, on Remus' own red face, on his kindness for carrying his brother.
When they reach the stairs, Romulus gives Remus a break and walks himself. His nose has stopped bleeding and the remnants of it have dried covering his top lip. Remus worries that it'll set in place like that forever.
He remembers Lyall talking about the school nurse before leaving to start the year. He's had his fair share of mean nurses and doctors- the one in their Muggle school and that one that Remus inflated in the doctor's office- so he's glad that Lyall thinks this one is nice, although Hope didn't seem all that keen on her thinking about it now. Remus is also glad it's not him in need of a nurse.
They have to ask directions to the infirmary as none of them (quite surprisingly as they are a group of bumbling idiot boys) have been to it yet. Well, they're told directions by passersby who take one look at Romulus and point them the right way.
There's already people occupying infirmary beds, some that have stayed overnight and one or two like Romulus who contracted an early injury. Probably from something boring like falling out of bed or tripping down the stairs, nothing exciting like a break-of-dawn Quidditch tackle. Remus will suggest that Romulus say he'd been hit in the face with a Bludger as it'd seem exceptionally cool.
The creak of the infirmary door acts as an entrance bell and Madam Poppy Pomfrey- a witch with wildly curly blonde hair, red dress and a white apron already adorned with a half scrubbed off red stain- comes running up.
Remus hasn't seen her around that much. Sometimes she'll be at dinner on the staff table but other times, he assumes she's up here with students. It's really very admirable and her hospitality doesn't seem to be very worn down as no one needs to say anything before she grabs Romulus by the shoulders and rushes him across the room to sit on one of the beds.
The boys follow closely and create an unintentional blockade, providing a little privacy.
Pomfrey begins wiping Romulus' face and hands immediately. “What's happened?”
“He broke his nose, we think.” Peter shyly says.
Romulus eyes him, “You broke my nose.” And he shuts up, looking at his feet.
She places her hands on either side of Romulus' head and tilts him to look up at the ceiling.
“You just keep your head like that now, darling. Does it hurt terribly?”
“I'm a little used to it.”
“That's no good, is it? We'll get you fixed in time for breakfast but we're going to do it the proper way- none of those pesky, quick spells you see going around. It's early but we're not lazy.”
Pesky, quick spells are clearly a sensitive subject for Pomfrey but she shakes her head and quiets her rant.
“So, we're going to shove my wand up your nose,” She continues from her initial point. “Have a little poke and wiggle about-”
Romulus shuffles on the bed and she laughs. The boys laugh. Someone across the room laughs. Remus really likes her.
“I'm only kidding, needn't worry. Sit tight for just a minute.”
She flurries off through a door at the end of the infirmary and the boys are left alone. The first order of business is to laugh at Romulus even more, who scrapes together a final little bit of dried blood from his hand and flicks it at Remus.
“We'll stick our wands in your ears as well.”
“And your mouth.”
“And your eyes.”
“And your-
“Alright!” Romulus yells. “I still have a broken nose, don't you remember? I think you're meant to be nice to me.”
Peter steps forward. “Again, I'm really sorry, Romulus. I don't know how it happened.”
And Romulus sighs at his friend, cocks his head to the side, smiles sweetly. “I'm only messing, Pete. I crashed into you too, remember?”
Pomfrey comes rushing very quickly back to the boys and Remus almost tells her to slow down. With her she has a couple of large vials and a box of tissues tucked under her arm. Sirius holds out his hand to take the tissues to which she smiles lustrously at.
She starts touching Romulus again, this time with a pair of blue plastic gloves worn snugly over her thin hands.
“You're Lyall Lupin's boys, aren't you?” She asks.
“Yes. I'm Remus.”
“And Romulus, I know. I came to see you when you two were very little, you know that? I was friends with your dad in school.”
Dad? Friends? Rule number one of being a dad (to Remus anyway) is: dad's don't have fun. Lyall spends his days either at work or at home; Remus highly dislikes the idea of him having friends. Lyall laughing? With someone other than Hope? Lyall finding enjoyment in people's company? Lyall having friendships as strong as Remus' one with these guys? He wants to throw up. At least Pomfrey has only mentioned a school-years, teenage friendship and nothing too ridiculous like girlfriends. But even that brings unpleasant ideas of Lyall being young once. Having a life before his children. That just won't do.
“Really?” The twins gasp in unison.
Pomfrey chuckles. “That's right. You look exactly like him too.”
“Was he funny?”
Funny like us, Remus means. Sure Lyall makes his family laugh sometimes but again, all this is just making Remus think uncomfortable things about his father.
Making other people laugh? Remus is tempted to be offended on behalf of his mother but realises that again, this is Lyall's life before they all came along. Disgusting, in Remus' opinion.
“The funniest.” Says Pomfrey. She takes two vials, removes each of their corks and pours one into the other, leaving it to the side for a minute.
James now steps up. “Did you know my dad?” Probably thinking similarly to Remus.
“I don't think so. Potter, right?”
James nods.
“Yes, I think I'm too old to have known either of your parents in school.”
She turns and points to Peter. Does she know everyone's names? Even if they haven't been here before?
“Pettigrew- I knew your dad and Black,” Sirius' shoulders sink. “I knew of your mum.”
“Everyone bloody knows about her.” He grovels but with a painful touch to his nose from Pomfrey, Romulus yelps out.
“Sorry.” She apologises. “Have you ever broken anything before?”
Romulus shakes his head and cringes. Scrunches his face and cringes. Gives up and just sighs exhaustedly.
“No. It hurts.”
“I know, I'll be done in just a minute, I'm sorry.” She gently pinches the bridge of Romulus' nose. “Good news is that it's not broken, just a little out of place.”
She reaches for the vial she had left sitting on the bedside table which has now started to smoke a bit. “I'll have you inhale this, okay? It'll sting just a tiny bit but it'll get rid of the pain.” Romulus nods and does as he's told.
Pomfrey spins around to James and Sirius like something's only just hit her.
“It's mighty early to be playing Quidditch, isn't it, boys?”
They blush and shuffle their feet, embarrassed.
“They made me!” Romulus cries, pointing at the two.
“You agreed!”
“I still didn't want to.”
“Don't talk for a minute, Romulus.”
Remus scoffs. “That's impossible for him.”
He remembers a time when Romulus talked so hard after watching his newest favourite movie, that he couldn't talk right for a few days after. He sounded like he'd been smoking a pack a day since birth, and looked so incredibly disappointed that he couldn't talk more. Remus almost almost felt sorry for his brother but the feeling of gratefulness because he wouldn't have to listen to him so much overtook it.
“Your dad was a real big chatter too. Hardly ever stopped talking.” Pomfrey smiles to herself.
“No he wasn't.”
“He was!” She dips her head at Romulus and he gives her a frightened look as if to say ‘how long do I have left?’, but she just gently raises her hands to his nose again.
“Ready, onetwothree!”
Romulus shrieks in the highest pitch Remus has ever heard his voice go when Pomfrey snaps her hands to the side, along with them, Romulus' nose. He says something nobody should around adults but Pomfrey doesn't seem to mind. She probably gets that a lot.
Tears jerk into Romulus' eyes again and she pats his cheek, neglecting to, however, notice that Remus is also starting to cry a little again behind her.
“I'm sorry, darling, but it's over now. You just keep breathing that stuff in.”
He nervously brings the vial to his red nose and inhales, his eyes filled with pure terror in the face of sweet-faced Madam Pomfrey.
“Anyway: your dad,”
She turns to the boys who instinctively lean away.
“He'd always be blabbering about something no matter what time of day. And he'd always have a terribly sore throat from it by bedtime,” Ah, that's where bloody Romulus (literally. His nose is dripping again) gets it from. “Let it rest during the night just to start all over again once he woke up.”
“Did you have to fix it for him?” Peter suggests, shuddering probably at the thought of her violent remedy for hoarseness.
She ponders. “Sometimes.” She grins. “Other times he was too proud to admit he was in pain.”
“That's stupid.”
“It is, isn't it?”
She sits up off the bed and smooths down her apron. Romulus takes one last big sniff of the vial's vapours before she takes it off him and pats his head again.
“Is it still hurting?”
He nods.
“It'll calm down in time for breakfast, don't worry.”
“Can we do it the quick magic way next time?”
Pomfrey becomes stern, her hands on her hips and head tilted down so her stare is oddly ominous.
“I hope you boys take this the way I intend it to be taken: I do not want to see any of you back in this room again, alright? Not for yourselves, not for your friends, not for anyone because I want nobody to be injured anymore. I want to spend the rest of my year getting paid to sit back and relax. Do you hear me?”
Did Lyall get his unconvincing anger from Pomfrey, or her from him?
“Do you have any pictures of my dad?” Remus asks, rocking forward onto his toes with a grin that Pomfrey instantly matches.
“I do but, he’d be terribly embarrassed if he knew that- he looks crazy in each and every one of them.”
Crazy?
“Crazy?”
Lyall? Crazy? Remus doesn't want himself to be in this room either. Although, it'd be very funny if his letter home included a picture of his father that he forgot about, or tried to forget about. Remus is sure that Hope would be a good sport and frame that too. Put it in the hallway for all to see; get the lady down the road to put it in the newspaper.
BREAKING: BIG, SCARY AUROR USED TO BE YOUNG
Pomfrey nods cheerfully. “Always either upside-down, or about to be, or yelling, or laughing.”
“Please can we see?” Romulus asks.
Pomfrey purses her lips and cocks her head in thought. “I'll have to find them first, boys. I might have a look around for you.”
“Did you know any of the professors?” Asks James.
Ha! Imagine Minerva McGonagall laughing. Remus trades glaces with his brother who has his smile properly back now.
“I knew most of them, yes.”
“McGonagall?” Remus pries.
“Was she crazy too?” Sirius sings.
Pomfrey’s eyes widen and she rapidly shakes her head as if Sirius has just said the single most false thing he could have.
“Absolutely not!” She announces. “She was and is very responsible.”
“Who wasn't?”
Her humour diminishes a little and Remus can tell that she's realising that they're still first year boys and not her friends. He's proud, though, that they convinced her otherwise for at least a little bit.
“These are your teachers we’re talking about, boys, this isn't appropriate.”
“We won't tell.” James whines.
“Promise!”
“No can do, I'm afraid. Maybe after you graduate I'll tell you.”
“But that's so long away.” Romulus sighs. He hops off the bed, chirpy and bright as ever. Nose? Romulus has a just-fine nose that's never been hurt or severely damaged. That just doesn't sound like him.
“If you want to know so badly I'm sure you can wait.”
Pomfrey pulls off her gloves and throws them in the bin by the bed. Remus feels his spine shiver at the thought of how many hundreds of students must have thrown up in there.
With a tissue from the box that Sirius is still holding, she cleans the last little bits of blood under Romulus' nose and bins that too. She swipes her finger down the length of Romulus' nose and pinches the end, giving it a little wiggle and a little shove.
“Absolutely no evidence here to suggest that anything was ever wrong. And well before breakfast too.” She looks very proud of herself. Not that she shouldn't be. What was that? Ten minutes? Less?
She looks at the others one last time. “Is anyone else hurt?”
Romulus points at Peter.
“Your cheek, Peter- where I crashed into you.”
Peter waves him off. “Oh, that's fine, it doesn't hurt at all.”
But Romulus takes a hold of his sleeve and pulls him forward and closer to Pomfrey who pulls him even closer by his tense shoulders.
She manoeuvres him to the side and turns his head so that she can get a proper look. She squints for all of a second and lets him go.
“There might be just the tiniest of bruises but you'll be fine too.”
Each of them shake their heads when she looks around for any more injuries, and she claps her hands just once. “I suggest you lot go back to your dorm before breakfast rather than more flying about.”
James makes an odd sound. “What about later?” And Pomfrey rolls her eyes. “Be very careful with each other.”
They're about to be kicked out, Remus can tell. So he butts in with one last question.
“Did Dad ever break his nose?”
“That man has broken everything that can be broken. Don't tell him I've been spilling all his secrets.”
“We won't.”
Pomfrey stands and gestures for the boys to follow her through that door at the back into a small office. She opens a few drawers before hitting the right one, taking out a bar of chocolate. She laughs when the boys' eyes light up in perfect harmony. Chocolate before breakfast?
It's a large bar- five squares wide- and she snaps off a whole row of it, and then into its individual squares.
“Each of you take a square, come on. Romulus gets an extra one, of course, brave boy.”
He hops forward first, tries to deduct which of the five equal squares is the most equal, eventually deciding that the two on the heel of Pomfrey's palm are the lead contenders. The boys take the leftovers.
“That nose won't give you any problems,” She assures Romulus. Despite her utterly medieval methods, Remus believes her. “It's actually probably sturdier than before. Indestructible, if I do say so myself.” She looks proud again, basks in it for a few seconds before opening and holding the door for the boys to run out of.
They all bid each other a good day, good look, thank you, the whole works. Those who stayed overnight have now awoken, likely because of their ruckus as the sky outside still isn't bright. Remus doesn't miss it though. He loves summer the most but the Sun is his worst enemy.
With one last “Thank you!”, the boys pile out of the infirmary and almost need to come right back up when they trip over each other to get to breakfast on time.
And Remus was absolutely right earlier (let's face it, he always is) in thinking that Romulus will get special treatment all day. He demands it, actually.
‘I can't breathe right- someone hold my bag’
‘I can't breathe right- someone fetch me water’
‘I can't breathe right- Remus, carry me again.’
It takes Remus about an hour to want nothing more than to test out that so called “indestructible nose”.