The First Day
That night, it had become evident that the faded laceration which streaked across Remus' nose wasn't his only scar. Not by half. When the boys had said their goodnights and gotten changed for bed, Sirius had seen the numerous dark lines that constellated his abdomen and back. It wasn't like he was staring, he wasn't- but it was hard not to notice such things when you have James Potter to speak every thought that crosses his mind beside you.
("Woah, more scars! Blimey, are you an assassin or something? - Hey! Cool necklace by the way!")
The necklace in question was a simple gold chain with a crescent moon pendant to match. Apparently, Remus never took it off.
In the morning they'd gotten dressed in a hurry to begin their day- it was student orientation, and then they'd get the rest of the day off to finish settling in and finding where all of their classes would be.
James was stretching and yawning about as if he'd swam the English Channel and then hiked all the way to school yesterday. "Guys, I'm really feeling the jetlag..." He moaned between mouthfuls of breakfast.
"It's a one hour difference," Sirius grunted, "how can you even tell?"
"It affects me! I'm bad with time zones!"
"How do you expect to become a pro athlete if you can't handle a one hour time change?"
James just huffed and returned to his blackened eggs. They weren't burnt, but appeared to be, due to the ungodly amount of pepper James had baptized them in.
"And how can you even eat that?"
"It's good!"
"Whatever you say..."
"Attention all first time students! Orientation will begin in ten minutes!"
"Hurry up, Pete!" James squawked, "I told you you shouldn't have gotten so much food! You're going to choke!"
"I was hungry!" He wailed.
From the edge of their table, Remus was chuckling at their silly arguments. He had opted for a banana and piece of chocolate for breakfast, (claiming he never had much of an appetite first thing in the morning.) Sirius found this rather odd, considering the boy was already on the thin side for a boxer. He wasn't skinny per say, but rather had lean muscles as opposed to the generic bulk that usually came with martial artists. Would they be wanting him to put on more weight? He's certainly tall enough, but he's not exactly what comes to mind when you picture a fighter.
The four of them shovelled the rest of their food into their mouths (or the rest of their tea, in Remus' case,) and got up to join a steady crowd of students eager to take on their first day, (or, perhaps eager to get their first day over with.)
The teacher guiding their orientation was a short, stout, squeaky little man named Professor Flitwick, and he seemed excited enough to greet them.
"Alright! Alright! Settle down everyone! Settle down! That's better, now, I know we're all very excited to embark on this new opportunity of educational enrichment, and I would like to say that even though you are all here for reasons relating to extraordinary skills in your particular fields, we must all remember to do our best in our core classes as well!" -there was a chorus of groans at that- "Now now, students! Now now! I must also say that, just because you've proven enough talent to make it to this fine school, that does not mean that you are off the hook! You have all been selected, in faith, that your practice and skills will continue to develop and grow. So no slacking off!"
"That's a lot of big words," James whispered, snickering, "you sure you understood all of that, guys?"
Sirius elbowed him harshly.
"-I suspect you are all already aware of this by now, but I'll say it again anyway! As this is a multinational organization and institution, the majority of your classes will be taught in the English language. There are! However, as we are in Austria, some classes taught in German as well! The staff has tried their best to organize roommates based off of their country of origin, in order to lessen language barriers and differences in cultural norms, however! We strongly encourage you to branch out your social circles, meeting people from different countries and walks of life! Now, before we get on with the tour, does anyone have any questions?"
A short boy near the front raised his hand.
"Yes?"
"Um, where's the loo?"
A few students laughed at that. "Down the hall and to the left," Mr. Flitwick said dismissively, "no dawdling, we'll be waiting for you!"
The short boy scampered away, joined by a few other students who apparently had the same question, but were too embarrassed to ask.
Suddenly, James gasped. "Nine O' Clock! Nine O' Clock!"
Sirius scoffed at him. "The so called time change really has taken it out of you, hasn't it? It's Eight O' Clock, James."
The wild-haired boy shook his head furiously. "No! Look at Nine O' Clock!"
Standing at the indicated line of sight was a girl with long, flaming red hair. "You mean her?"
"She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
"If you say so."
"I gotta go talk to her!"
Sirius sighed. "I hate to break it to you, but it's very early, and we have an orientation to get on with. I think you'd have a better chance if you went and talked to her after it's done."
James appeared to have a lightbulb moment at that. "You're right! Thanks mate! I knew I was going to make friends with all of you!"
Sirius got rigid at that. ...Friends..? Friends weren't supposed to happen. But, I can't very well tell him right now that I can't be his friend- he already thinks we are! Oh for heaven's sake, if mother doesn't find out what's really the big deal...
Fuck it.
All things considered, the tour wasn't too bad.
A lot of the information was irrelevant to Sirius, the only things he really needed to know were the location of his four core classes and the ice rink, but all in all he wasn't too bothered.
The skating rink was beautiful; a grand ovular stadium with tiered balconies high above. Ornately decorated, ice polished to perfection. He couldn't wait to train on it. But, alas, he would have to, because it was one of the very first places they visited.
The final destination of their tour was actually to the nearby village. It was only a short walk from the school, and looked somewhat like a postcard with the way it was nestled into the mountains. According to Professor Flitwick, during the summer months, more tourists lived there than actual residents- largely due to the fact it boasted three skiing resorts. The town in itself, though, wasn't all that interesting. It had two bars, a general store, a school for kids of all ages, a record store (which Remus seemed interested in), a cafe, and a church on every corner.
Nothing much out of the ordinary.
Flitwick informed them that they were allowed to visit the village at their own leisure, so long as they were back before curfew, weren't skiving off of classes, and always took a "buddy," (or went with a group.)
Sirius thought they should be able to go alone if they wanted to, but he kept the thought to himself.
James, Peter, and Remus were staying behind to explore the village, and James had high hopes of introducing himself to the mysterious redhead, but Sirius slinked away, the need to practice building under the surface of his skin like an itch.
He legged it back to the school, making his way to their shared dorm where he retrieved his skates and got changed into more flexible clothing, bringing along a jar of loose lambs wool as always. The stuff was usually used by ballerinas, he technically had no need for it- but he could never stand the feeling of blisters on his feet.
When he arrived back at the rink he was anxious to get going, lacing his boots quickly and kicking out onto the ice in long, confident strides. He always started his warmup the same: Dynamic stretches, three laps around the ice going forwards, then two backwards, simple jumps and turns. After that he set to work on whatever programs and skills he was working on.
Sirius was about an hour in when another figure skater showed up. I'll have to get used to that I guess. She was quite short and had limited English, she was pretty, he supposed, but he wasn't interested in sharing the ice at the moment, so he went back up to their dorm instead, cutting his practice short.
The bathroom attached to their dorm included a large bathtub and an ice box filled with ice.
Typical, for a sports school, really.
It would come in handy for days when he had spent hours practicing and his muscles ached from overuse. Though, today, he opted for a steaming hot shower instead.
He undressed quickly, leaving his clothes in a messy heap on the floor and stepped inside. Turning up the heat of the stream, he let his mind drift. He examined the dark contusion reaching across his bicep where he had been struck by the firestick, it was ugly and mean-looking. A purple mark dotted with dark red blemishes where skin had split open.
He poked it to test how bad it hurt.
Stinging pain spread down his arm.
He reached for the ice, withdrawing a few cubes and holding it against the damaged skin until they melted, making sure to keep them away from the hot water.
The wound didn’t really look all that better afterward, but he supposed it would take a while before it faded to green anyway. He shut off the water and stepped out of the tub, immediately soaking the clothes he had forgotten were laying on the ground.
“Shit.”
Kicking them aside, Sirius fumbled around for a towel which he used to wring out his long hair, before tying it around his waist. He then picked up his now-wet clothes and walked back out into the dormitory.
He was not expecting to see Remus there.
Sirius jumped backwards, surprised, and held his clothing against his chest, (thankful he hadn’t decided to simply walk out starkers.) He gawked for a moment, before making his way to his own bed.
“Sorry, I thought you’d heard me come in.”
“I didn’t.”
“I see that.”
Momentarily, Sirius debated climbing into his four-poster and drawing the curtains closed to get dressed, but none of them had done that the night before. None of them had done that that morning.
That would be weird. Don’t make it weird.
Why was it suddenly weird just because there were two of them, instead of four?
He shook off the feeling and turned around, facing his back to Remus as he quickly dropped the towel and pulled on a fresh pair of trousers.
It’s not like I’m a queer. Stop making it weird.
“That’s quite the bruise.”
Sirius whirled around at the comment, suddenly self conscious and slapping a hand over his arm. (He tried his best not to grimace at the throb of pain that protested as he did so.)
Why were you looking at me?! Weirdo.
“S’nothing. I bruise easily.”
“I see. How’d it happen then?”
“Just figure skating.” He muttered, pulling on a jumper and hiding the purple streak on his bicep.
“Seems like a strange shape for a figure skating injury.”
“I didn’t realize you were an expert in my sport.”
“I’m not.” He admitted, annoyingly.
“And I could say that that scar is a strange shape for a boxing injury. Do you make a habit of strapping knives to those stupid gloves you all wear?”
“No.”
“Well, I guess we're both liars then.”
“I guess we are.”
Seething, but unsure why, Sirius flopped onto his bed and pulled the curtains shut.
He stared at the roof of his bed in silence for a long while.
He thought to himself that Remus Lupin might be the strangest person he’d ever met. He’d never met a lot of people, outside of his many relatives of course, having never been to a school until now, but Remus was an enigma nonetheless. Sirius thought that, generally speaking, he could read people pretty well. Use their own body language against them, read between the lines of what they were saying, figure out all their tells and memorize them.
But Remus… Remus.
Remus was different.
Sirius could stare directly into those warm brown eyes and not have a clue in the word what Remus was about to do next. And that thought scared him.
Unpredictable was dangerous.
Sirius’ mother was hotheaded, quick to anger, and violent in that anger. But Sirius always knew when she was about to have one of her little ‘episodes’. He knew what would piss her off, and what would make her seem, insincerely, for a moment as though she might almost care. (If only for a moment.)
But Remus Lupin was a true wild card.
Sirius wanted to figure him out and hide from him all at once.
And after what could have been minutes, or hours, (He was unsure,) Sirius heard the soft click of a door opening and then shutting again.
He waited a few beats before peeking his head out of the curtains.
Remus had left.
Remus had left, and, all of a sudden, Sirius wished that he had stayed. He wished that Remus would come back.
Come back.
I’m sorry.
I don’t want to be alone.
I don’t like being alone.
Sirius sighed and rolled over onto his stomach. What a strange thing to think. He thought. What a pathetic way to feel.
He pinched his bruise, hard, to shake the weak emotions away.
It erupted in pain and brought hot pricks of tears to his eyes. He refused to let them fall.
At some point, Sirius fell into a fitful sleep.
The last thing he remembered thinking was that Remus Lupin had made his own emotions unpredictable, now, too.