MOONAGE DAYDREAM

MOONAGE DAYDREAM

OF MONSTERS AND LITTLE MEN

We used to play outside when we were young
And full of life and full of love
Some day, I don’t know if I am wrong or right
Your mind is playing tricks on you my dear
Cause the truth may vary, this
Ship will carry our bodies safe to shore.

1st September 1968

Peter Pettigrew stared at Remus Lupin.

Remus Lupin stared at Peter Pettigrew.

Peter had strictly been informed by his mother to play and make friends with the scraggly boy presented to him. Deirdre Pettigrew- whilst a rather plain woman- was not however, a witch to be crossed. So, being the dutiful son that he was, he eyed his new playmate from the swing that his father had attached to a branch on the apple tree in their back garden. So far, Remus had been a reasonably unassuming fellow playmate, dressed in faded shorts that resembled more of a grey, and a red jersey which had a hole in the left elbow. There wasn’t much which Peter could say about Remus’ face, as his mousey brown curls tumbled into his brow that obscured what Peter took to be hazel eyes. There were a couple of jagged white scars that criss crossed his knees, and spidered their away across Remus’ body, hidden by his clothes. When Remus had first arrived, Peter had opened his mouth to ask about them. Before he had managed to get a word out, Deirdre had clipped around the ear, and given him a very pointed look. Instead, Peter closed his mouth firmly shut, and hadn’t said a word since. It was only this morning he had waved his elder brother and sister goodbye on the train platform, and once again he was to be left all alone, with nothing but his parents for company. And now- the strange Lupin child, who had arrived, hand in hand with his house elf. Strange indeed.

Remus studied Peter, head cocked to one side as he examined the other boy who was sitting on a lopsided swing, trailing the tip of his trainer in the mud. He wasn’t much to look at, but Remus supposed that was because the other boy was younger than him. Admittedly, not by much, but it counted. He had a mop of fair blonde hair, which had been swept from his head. His face still carried a pudginess to it, the baby-like cheeks which had usually started to disappear at this age, and Peter’s diminished height didn’t add any favours. He was dressed smartly, a white short sleeved shirt and smart brown trousers that must have been uncomfortable in the heat. Peter seemed to be watching Remus, although making some sly effort to do it carefully, as though not to be. Remus supposed that’s what he got for, hanging out with someone his junior. The Pettigrews- as far as Remus was concerned- seemed to be perfectly normal. Deirdre and Richard Pettigrew had three children (from as far as Remus could make out) and a reasonably sized cottage located in the heart of Devon. One mum. One dad. It was everything which Remus could have ever hoped for. Instead, he had Hepe, his house elf, and a father who spent too much time in his flat in London to make it home in time to tuck Remus into bed. Remus didn’t talk about his mother. Now, Remus found himself in the Pettigrew’s garden, after having been roughly informed by his ever absent farmer, that ‘he needed to learn to socialise.’ Remus hated socialising.

“Do you like quidditch?” Peter asked at long last, and Remus did his best to hide the satisfaction of not being the one to crack first. Instead, he simply shook his head. Peter screwed up his face, irritated that his poor attempt at conversation had turned sour quickly. “What do you like doing?”

Remus shrugged. And then- “I like the radio… I like singing.”

Peter’s eyes widened, his mouth curling into a smile. “You sound funny.”

Remus scowled, and allowed himself to curl inwards. He was taller than average for his age. “I don’t sound funny. You sound funny,” he snapped back. Part of him knew he sounded different to Peter. “I’m from Langstone.”

“Where’s that?”

“Wales.”

“I dunno anyone from Wales.” Peter rolled the last word around his tongue as though it were never spoken to him before. Remus thought about it for a little while before saying- “I’m not very good at quidditch.” Peter grinned back at him.

“Me neither. C’mon.”

The two of them raced off back into the house, giggling and shoving one another as though they had been friends their entire lives. Because, quite frankly, it had been as simple as that.

***

Oh man, look at those cavemen go
It’s the freakiest show
Take a look at the lawman
Beating up the wrong guy
Oh man, wonder if he’ll ever know
He’s in the best-selling show
Is there life on Mars?

3rd November 1981

There was a rapping knock on the door, and Remus hauled himself into an upright position, doing his best to shield his eyes from the mid morning sun. Madeleine had kept him up half the night with her screaming. Not that Remus couldn’t blame her really- she had managed to snap her left leg in three different locations during the last change over a week ago, and the regular Skele-gro potion to help reset it was painful to say the least.

The knocking on the door continued, and Remus swore as he tripped over a toy lion that had been left strewn across the floor. The cottage was a shambles, in desperate need of a tidy up. It had been years since Lyall had sold Hepe on, and Remus’ father was in no condition to clean the place up. That just left Remus to manage all the housework.

“Yes, yes- I’m coming,” Remus muttered, yanking open the front door and blinking into the light before him. Several more, less elegant swear words, left Remus’ mouth- because stood in front of him was Albus fucking Dumbledore. He smiled wanly at Remus, dressed in emerald robes, a matching hat, his half moon spectacles perched at the end of his nose.

“May I come in, Mr Lupin?”

Remus stepped to one side, eyes agog as the wizard waltzed into his home, not caring about the mess that beheld him. Remus directed his old headmaster to the sitting room, picking up a series of old washing he was still yet to put away from a battered leather armchair, offering Dumbledore to sit. Dumbledore did so, graciously.

“Can, can I ask what this visit is about?” Remus stuttered, grabbing dirty dishes at random, and using his foot to kick dirty socks under his sagging settee. Dumbledore paid this no attention, instead choosing to admire a framed picture that Remus had of Madeleine on the coffee table.

“I have some rather- unfortunate- news,” Dumbledore said at last, finally making eye contact with Remus. The sinking feeling within Remus- that red hot, twisted feeling in the gut that had been growing ever since Dumbledore had arrived- shuddered through every inch of him. He felt his knees buckle slightly, and he collapsed onto the settee, ignoring the groan of the springs.

“I see.”

Dumbledore frowned slightly, taking the glasses from his nose and polishing them meticulously. “I understand that you were, up until recently, close with Mr Black.”

Remus arched an eyebrow. He couldn’t help it- but laughter erupted from him. Bitter, angry, exhausted laughter. “We were raising a daughter together, Dumbledore sir. I think you can assume more than that.” Dumbledore paused, before placing his glasses back onto his nose. He swallowed, as though what he was about to say next was seemingly difficult.

“This morning Sirius Black was arrested in London, having incited a spell aimed at Peter Pettigrew. Mr Pe- Peter, and several muggles were killed in this attack.”

It was like someone had physically punched Remus in the stomach. He could feel his throat closing up, his gut turning to acid, his blood freezing in his veins. No- no, not his Sirius. It couldn’t be his Sirius. But Remus had lost his Sirius six months ago, when he had walked out of their pokey flat above the corner shop in London. Remus had taken Madeleine with him that night, and never looked back.

“I understand that this comes as a shock to you, especially after James and Lily's death-”

“WHAT?”

Dumbledore reeled back, surprised by Remus’ outburst.

“Oh dear- I thought, perhaps… I am very sorry to be the one to tell you this, but on the 31st October--”

And it was just like that Remus’ whole world collapsed around him. He listened to the details which Dumbledore was willing to part with. Of course James had gone first, of course he had been the one to die, no wand in sight but staring death in the eye. And Lily, brilliant, bold, and fearless Lily. She had loved Harry so much, it made sense that she wouldn’t leave her only son behind.

And Peter.

Poor, stupid Peter- who had been so reckless, so idiotic- as to go after Sirius Black. Had Peter truly thought that he could beat Sirius in a fight? In a duel? He hardly had the talent to fight a fly.

Remus could feel the tears, hot and heavy as they streamed down his face, shaking his head at Dumbledore’s meagre attempt at comfort. He pulled his knees tight towards his chest, hugging them as he rocked backwards and forwards. Madeleine was crying again, he could hear her wailing stifled through the walls.

They were all meant to grow old together.

He and Sirius- that bastard- they had made plans.

And now all he was left with was a dying father and a werewolf daughter- and fuck fate, and all that other bullshit Sirius had told him, only a few years ago. If any of them had meant to make it, it was supposed to be James and Lily. It was supposed to be those two, so full of that sickening hope.

It reminded Remus of something that Regulus had told him, not long before he had disappeared.

It’s that sort of kindness that will get you killed.

All for fucking nothing.

“Mr Lupin? Remus?”

“It’s his fucking birthday!” Remus choked out at last.
***
Matilda you talk of pain like it’s alright
But I know that you feel like a piece of you is dead inside
You showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days
It’s none of my business, but it’s just been on my mind
You can let it go
You can throw a party for everyone you know

17th February 1983

Remus tipped precariously to one side, cursing that Kreacher was so vain that he couldn’t even be bothered to do the shopping for the house. The house elf was not pleased that Remus and Madeleine had moved into 12 Grimmauld Place, and just before Christmas too. It had been a couple of months, and vast improvements had been made to the house.

Practically every trace of the former Black family had been removed from that miserable blight on the wizarding world. A part of Remus was reluctant to take the house. Another part of Remus knew that Walpurga Black was rolling like a phantom in her grave so much that she could power Muggle electricity. It was that more petty side of Remus which had ultimately won over.

Still, raising a child on his own was hard. Raising a smart one like Madeleine was near impossible. She devoured books like Remus devoured chocolate frogs, and it had made Remus feel so proud to watch Madeleine begin to grow into a diligent and beautiful woman.

Remus stopped dead in his tracks.

Standing at the bus stop on the other side of the road- it couldn’t be.

She was dressed in a smartish black pencil skirt and matching blazer, three inch stilettos and bright red lipstick that dared anyone to provoke her. She had shaved her head, her once wild black locks that had been envious of every girl at Hogwarts gone without a trace. If Remus hadn’t been quite so lost in his thoughts, he doubted that he would have recognized her. But it didn’t matter.

Because Mary MacDonald had recognised him.

She lifted a well manicured hand in a wave, going white as a sheet at seeing an old friend out in the open. And in Clapham of all places.

Remus had hardly the time to respond, before Mary was crossing the road, shielding her eyes from the drizzle. Remus watched, as if in an out of body experience, as she came strolling up to him.

“Well fuck me,” she whispered, taking in Remus’ skinny frame, his walking stick, and the bag of books that he had acquired from the nearby charity shop. “It’s only Remus Bloody Lupin.”
Remus had no idea how Mary had managed to wrangle him into agreeing to get a coffee, but there he was, sat in a cramped London Cafe, a mug of steaming tea in front of him with enough sugars to take out a horse. Mary had smirked at his order, a glint of the former girl that Remus had always taken such pride into calling his friend.

“Some things never change,” she muttered, dotting at the corner of her mouth with a tissue. Remus eyed her sheepishly, holding tighter onto his mug. "You- you look bloody fantastic!" Mary tipped her head back and laughed. It had been so long since Remus had heard laughter like hers, it welled up inside him and tipped over, like warm sunshine. It flooded him with the better memories of Hogwarts, the better memories that he had held onto after he left, that last remaining shred of joy he never wanted to leave. "I got a couple of o-levels after I left," Mary admitted, adding some extra milk to her coffee. She sniffed a little, a crease forming in her brow. "Passed them- probably the only exams I ever worked hard for. Got myself into night school, now working as an accountant for some insurance firm down the road." Remus smiled at her. "Proud of you," he said softly. He meant it. Mary tutted, and reached over and squeezed his hand. “You look tired.”

Remus chuckled, running hand across his face. “You try raising a kid. She runs circles around me everyday, worse than I ever was.”

“I think McGonagall would argue against that one.” Mary smiled, and retracted her hand. “I- I heard about… I heard about him.”

Remus shifted in his seat, choosing to stare out of the window instead. The window had fogged up as the rain began to get heavier, smattering onto the pavement outside. Pedestrians hurried to and fro, covering themselves with umbrellas, others simply risking getting wet.

Him. That meant Sirius.

“I just,” Mary blew a long sigh through her teeth. “I just couldn’t believe it. Any of it. Read about it a month or so later. Found a dodgy copy of the Prophet in the bin. Behind my hairdresser no less!”

Remus winced.

“I should’ve written to you,” he muttered, still unable to meet her gaze.

“Yes. You should have.” Mary agreed, and Remus was still able to detect the level of annoyance and resentment that Mary had settled with, still these years later. “Can’t believe it about Pete. He always seemed a bit… well, y’know.”

Remus whipped his head round. “Pete was the best of us,” he snapped out, clenching his hand into a fist beneath the table. “He was the bravest of us. I was the coward- I was the one who left, I was the one who didn’t watch Sirius. I was the one who could have prevented him selling out Lily and James.”

Mary let out a low whimper from the back of her throat, and she dropped her head, staring into her palms in front of her. “Don’t be silly Remus,” she breathed. “None of us could have known.”

The two of them sat there in prolonged silence. Remus didn’t notice Mary leave. He didn’t stop her, even if he did notice her. He mumbled something about writing to her.

Perhaps a Christmas card.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stay in touch. Maybe he could heal a part of himself that been broken for such a long time.