MOONAGE DAYDREAM

SHARING IS CARING

Machine guns ready to go
Are you ready? Hey, are you ready for this?
Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?
Out of the doorway, the bullets rip
To the sound of the beat, yeah
Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust
And another one gone, and
Another one gone
Another one bites the dust.

1st September 1971

It was much to Remus’ disappointment to find out that he would not be sharing a dormitory with Peter Pettigrew. It was simply to the fact that Remus had already made one friend, and he wasn’t in the mood, nor the inclination to make another. So, Remus and Peter parted ways on the stairway with glum stares, and called it an evening.

Remus had been sorted into Gryffindor- despite his father having been sorted into Ravenclaw. Remus wondered what that said about him. If his mother had been a witch, would she be a Gryffindor? She certainly was the more fearless of his parents.

The dormitory was organised in a round, with four four poster beds dotted in each corner, complete with red blankets, a chest of drawers on one side of the bed and a single door wardrobe on the other. There was a bathroom opposite the front door, and three large windows that let the moonlight spool into the room. Remus scowled. One of the benefits of being an only child was that he never had to share anything.

The three other boys who he would be sharing his dormitory with had already arrived by the time Remus had gotten there. They stared at him, eyes wide as they drank in his skinny frame, head bowed and shoulders hunched so as to disguise his height. Remus ignored them, and headed straight to what he assumed was his bed, and began unpacking his trunk. He didn’t have much, his most prized possessions was his box of records that he had collected over the last year. It had taken Remus some time to convince Hepe to acquire the records, and the house elf had been particularly reluctant to do so. And then there were the ones that had belonged to the former Hope Lupin. Remus hadn’t heard those since she had passed, his heart aching at the very sight of them.

Remus pulled the box out and the accompanying portable record player, and placed it carefully atop his chest of drawers. It had been a big risk, bringing them both to Hogwarts with him. But Remus and Lyall had fought over Remus’ muggle indoctrination for so long, that Remus feared he would throw them all out if he hadn’t.

“What are those?”

The query made Remus jump, as he hadn’t heard the other boy sneak up on him. He had long black hair that curled at the ends, tied up into a ponytail at the back of his head, a small turned up nose, and sharp cheekbones that made his face look more severe than it should be for an eleven year old child. His stormy blue eyes were examining the case of records carefully, hungrily, and Remus felt a surge of protectiveness over it. He picked up the records, and shoved them under the bed, scowling at the other boy.

“They’re my records,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t listen to them.”

The other boy tutted, and rolled his eyes. “I was only asking!”

With that, Remus deepened his glare, and pulled his bed curtains sharpish around him. But even with the curtains closed, blocking out the sight of the other boy, he could feel the intense, magnetic stare of the boy with the long hair radiating through the cloth.

***
8th September 1971

Remus had been at Hogwarts for merely a week when things had already started to go wrong.

He had run to his dormitory to change quickly before dinner, as Peter was still stuck in the library working on his Herbology homework. Remus was hurrying up the stairs, taking them two at a time whilst simultaneously working on his tie, and undoing the top button of his shirt when he skidded to a halt, his heart pounding in his chest.

There was music trickling from his dormitory, and as the blood began to roar through his ears, Remus was able to pick out which song it was:

It's been a hard day's night, and I've been working like a dog. It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log. But when I get home to you, I find the things that you do will make me feel alright…

It was one of his records, one of his mother’s records. They were playing one of Hope’s records. How could they? Remus had told them not to touch them- how dare they? Remus swung the door open, letting it smash into the wall on the other side, and the guilty culprit jumped at the sudden intrusion, his face slowly turning a beetroot red.

Sirius was sitting on the floor next to Remus’ bed, the record player on one side of him, Remus’ records scattered around him, A Hard Day’s Night spinning in the player. Sirius froze, swallowing, before he lifted the needle so that the room descended into an eerie silence.

“What you doing?” Remus said through gritted teeth, his knuckles white from where they were clenched into fists, a deathly calm to his voice. Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it again, contemplating a lie. Remus could feel the hairs begin to prick at the back of his neck, a low, snarling growl escaping from his lips. There was no use for Sirius to lie, Remus had caught him red handed.

“Listening to your records” Sirius said with some confidence.

Remus wasn’t utterly sure whether it was him, or the wolf that resided within him, but a red mist clouded his sight. The next thing he knew, he had leapt over to Sirius, and tackled the other boy to the floor, punching and swinging blindly. Remus felt something clip him in the jaw, and tasted blood where it had split his lip. This only furthered Remus’ anger, landing a heavy blow into Sirius’ gut that caused him to fold over, groaning and wheezing. Remus saw this opportunity, to force Sirius onto his back, stradling either side of his hips with his knees, pinning the boy down with his weight. Remus grabbed handfuls of Sirius’ shirt, pulling him so that they were close together. “Don’t you ever touch my stuff again!” He snapped into Sirius’ face.

Sirius squirmed under Remus’ grip, but Remus was stronger than he looked. He slid off Sirius and stormed out of the room. He stormed out of the castle, his pace quickening faster, and faster, and faster- until he was sprinting as far away from that wretched boy as he could.

Let Sirius run and tell a teacher, let Sirius tell everyone about Remus’ temper. Let Sirius get Remus expelled. Remus had had enough of this godforsaken school.