Comets and Cupids

“Remus, you’ve been accepted into Hogwarts Ballet Academy.”

In the silence that followed his father’s statement Remus could hear his mothers small intake of breath at the right end of the dining table. At the left, Lyall Lupin stared at him through his small glasses with his hands crossed over his unfinished Sunday roast.

Remus clenched his jaw. He knew what was happening here. “I don’t recall sending in an application there, Father.” He avoided eye contact as he continued to attack his turkey with no real interest.

“Well, yes it is true we missed the opportunity to send apply there-“

Remus cut him off. “We didn’t miss the opportunity! We had this discussion and I said I wasn’t interested in Hogwarts. Plus, their applications were due weeks ago!” He could feel his anger rising. And it was October, Hogwarts Ballet Academy would be at least a month into their term.

His father sighed heavily. “Remus, I shared my opinions on you ignoring this opportunity, and I made it very clear that I believe your decision was a mistake.” His father’s tone was cold and determined, leaving the impression that his word was final.

But Remus wasn’t letting it go. “Regardless of your opinions father it was still my decision. And I wish you would respect that for once. And as I said, I never even sent in an application.” Remus said, finally looking up at his father’s emotionless stare.

“I called in a favour.” Was all he had to say, and Remus understood immediately.

“This is why I never wanted to go there in the first place! You and all the other patrons have too much influence over that school!” He burst out. If there was one thing that angered Remus Lupin, it was his father bending all the rules in attempt to shape him into the perfect son Lyall believed he’d been robbed of. “I’m not going, you can’t force me!” He shouted pathetically.

“Remus, they’ve accepted your request. For once, can you think of someone else besides yourself? This training will be good not only for your reputation, but the reputation of this family.” His father kept his voice level, unaffected by emotion. Lifeless.

“This isn’t fair. I’m not a child anymore, you can’t boss me around and expect me to not resist it.” His voice was tight as he tried to contain his anger.

“For once Remus, can you try not put so much disgrace on your own family!” Lyall roared back, now raising his voice.

“Lyall!” His mother gasped, finally deeming the confusion insulting enough to intervene. She was ignored, of course, by his father as he continued to stare at Remus with hateful eyes.

Remus could tell when he had lost an argument, and it was clear this subject wasn’t up for debate. His father had made up his mind.

“When do I leave?” He whispered.

“Tomorrow.” Remus got up and made his way to his room, leaving his dinner behind him. He’d lost his appetite.

He dragged his feet all way up the stairs to his room, kicking the doorframe once before entering. He hated everything. He hated this dead house, he hated his cold room, he hated how he was young and powerless. But above all, he hated his father.

His father, who had had Remus dancing since before he could walk. His father, one of the richest patrons in the ballet. His father, who’d pulled every string possible to try to cover up the disappointment that was his son.

Every friend Remus had ever had had been fake because of Lyall. Young children with dancer parents, who pushed their kids into friendships with Remus with the hope that just knowing Lyall Lupin would help them in the industry. They’d all left eventually, seeing that Remus’s father wouldn’t take anything to do with them. Why would he? They were only Remus’s friends after all.

When Remus had turned seventeen, his mother and father decided it would be better for Remus to seek a greater level of ballet training. The Remus in question had no say in this decision.

Lyall had sought out all of the finest ballet schools in the world, from Beauxbatons to Koldovstoretz. Ilvermony had been a personal favourite of Remus’s. A life away from his family and all the nepotism that came with merely having his surname. But when Hogwarts had came up, Remus had put his foot down. His father had been director of the Royal Hogwarts Ballet a few decades ago, and Remus had no interest in having his father’s status cheat his way into the academy. Remus didn’t even like ballet. It was just something he had to live with. Something he tolerated. Overtime he’d just grown numb to it. So the constant pressure it put of his life barely affected him now.

And it was pressure. His entire life had always been surrounded by ballet. Everywhere he went. “Remus Lupin? Lupin? Would you be Lyall’s son?!” or “Lupin? Any relation of a Lupin must be the top of the class!” Everywhere he went, everyone knew him. His father’s name and his expectations followed him all the time. He couldn’t escape. But he tolerated it.

He pulled his suitcase from under his bed and began shoving random pieces of clothing inside. Gym shorts and hoodies for training and sweaters and jeans because if he had his way that would be what he lived in. A button down, just in case. The school would most likely provide gear when he arrived anyway. He tossed in a few books and one photo of him and his mother from when he was a child. His suitcase was thrown in the corner, ready for his trip tomorrow.

Tomorrow he thought. What the hell was the he doing leaving he day after the received the news in the first place. Of course it would’ve been far too much to ask for a few days notice. He swung a kick at his suitcase. He already knew he was going to hate Hogwarts.

He would’ve stayed in his room for the rest of the night if he’d had his way, but his phone was downstairs and he needed a distraction right now. He opened his door and crept down the first set of mahogany stairs and on to the second floor, where the corridors were lined with tapestries and paintings of ballet legends. After seventeen years in this house, Remus still never felt at home here. The door to the dining room was open, and the dinner plates had been cleared, no doubt by the maids, and Lyall Lupin was no where to be found.

Down another flight of stairs and he reached the ground floor. He walked through the hall until the reached the arch that led him into the kitchen. He stared at his feet as he walked, lost in his thoughts.

How could he let this happen to him all the time?! He heard loads about Hogwarts, all their prodigies, but none of it ever stuck in his head. He didn’t even know who the current director was! He probably had to leave early in the morning. If he knows anything about his father, it’s that he doesn’t believe in “time wasting” and giving that Remus has no friends and no life he won’t have many goodbyes to deal with. God, what would the kids at Hogwarts be like? In previous schools - less prestigious, rich, spoiled schools - the kids had been horrible. But at the best ballet academy for the best ballet company in the business? Remus shuddered to think about it.

“Remus?” He was pulled out of his thoughts as his head snapped up to meet his mother’s eyes staring back at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you were here.” He immediately turned to leave, he wasn’t in the mood for a discussion with either of his parents right now.

“Remus,wait.” His mother called. “I’m sorry Remus, dear, I really am.”

“If you really were you wouldn’t be letting him do this.”

“Remus you know I have as much influence over his decisions as you do.” She whispered it like it was a terrible secret, which it may as well be, if Lyall heard her speak of him that way it wouldn’t end well.

What she said was true, but he found it difficult to forgive her for watching it all happen. He was being kicked out of his house to go to a stupid nepotism-centred boarding school in London. He didn’t have a whole lot of patience right now.

“Sit with me, Remus, please. I was just packing your lunch for tomorrow.” Her eyes were pleading, and Remus looked away.

“What time is my train at?” He asked, ignoring her request.

“Eleven thirty in the morning.” She replied quietly.

“You’re not happy about this, are you?”

“I want you to be happy. Even the idea of Hogwarts is making you miserable. That isn’t what I want for you.” Her voice shook.

“I’m your son.”

“I’m sorry, Remus.”

“Don’t let him send me there, Mother. Anywhere but there.” He whispered to keep his voice from breaking. It was his worst nightmare. A school he was only attending because of his father. Not determined by ability, just by name. And if he did get a good training at Hogwarts, which was almost guaranteed, he would owe his father for the rest of his life.

“There’s nothing I can do, you know that. I’m sorry. Please sit with me, Remus.”

“Goodnight, Mother.” He turned his back and climbed up the stairs to the third floor where he collapsed on the bed and soon fell asleep.

. . .

The train had left an hour ago and he was already halfway to London. His suitcase sat in the seat next to him and he looked out the window at the passing fields and terrace houses. The lunch his mother had made him lay in a bin somewhere in the train station. Somewhere between dinner and breakfast he’d lost his appetite. His parting with his mother had been short and sweet. A simple hug and an apology was all.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” She’d whispered in his ear during their hug. He’d ignored her.

His father, however, had lectured him all the way from the house to the train itself. Just the usual crap about not “disgracing his name” and “working hard for once”. As if he hadn’t heard that a million times. He hadn’t shook his father’s hand as he left. Just a cold stare. A part of him was glad to have left his father behind. But no, Lyall Lupin would never really be gone. No matter how many miles he traveled, Lyall would always find a way to haunt him.

The train screeched to a stop some time later, and Remus grabbed his suitcase as he made way for the train doors. He caught a glimpse of his stick-like reflection in the glass and quickly looked away. His lanky frame wouldn’t have been good for a dancer, had it not been drilled into him since he was a child.

He caught a taxi that took him to the gates of the Hogwarts Ballet Academy. The building was truly magnificent. Huge, extremely overwhelming, and Remus’s absolute worst nightmare. It was still quite a trek from where the taxi left him, as the grounds were huge and the gate circled the perimeter. Eventually, he made it the double oak doors at the entrance of the building, and pushing the right one with force he entered the Hogwarts building.

. . .

“Hi, I’m Remus Lupin, I’m here to join the Academy.” He didn’t know what else to say. That’s literally all he knew.

“I’ll call the Assistant Director.” The receptionist replied.

He’d wandered the halls for what felt like an eternity before finally finding what appeared to be the lobby. Or the most prestigious reception in the history of warm-welcomes. The carpet was crimson and polished wood lined the walls. The seats were tucked neatly against them and the reception desk was white marble.

“Minerva McGonagall is here to see now, Mr Lupin.” The robot-like receptionist informed him.

He turned around and saw a tall, strict looking woman with greying black hair in a tight bun staring pointedly at him. She was holding a clipboard and a pen in her arms.

“Lupin, you’ve come to join Group A, yes?” She asked him in a sharp voice.

“Yes, Ms McGonagall.” He didn’t usually show adults more respect than necessary, but it was clear this woman meant business. He also had no idea which group he’d come to join, but he agreed anyway. She probably knew more about his position here than he did.

She turned her back to him and addressed the receptionist. “Send someone down to escort him to his dormitory.”

“Of course. Who am I calling for?” The receptionist replied.

“The captain of Group A.”

“That’s Black, miss.” McGonagall cursed under her breath.

“The vice captain?”

“That’s Crouch, miss.” McGonagall sighed.

“Group B’s captain, then.” She said.

“That’s Black, Regulus Black.” The receptionist informed her.

“For gods sake! Who’s the vice for B?” She said with a strained voice.

“Rosier.”

“Oh, thank the lord, send him down.” She turned back to Remus as if he hadn’t heard her entire conversation. “Mr Lupin, someone will be sent down now to escort you to your dorm. While you are here, there are a certain set of rules you must obey.” Remus nodded his head.

“First, you have been lucky enough to have been accepted into this school, at the highest ranking of our Groups, nonetheless. Do not abuse this position. It can be as easily taken away from you as it was given to you.

“Lights are out at ten every night, caught out of bed after this, and you will receive detention. We may be a ballet school, but we are still a school, at that.

“Bad manners and foul language towards superiors are not permitted, so no arguing with your choreographers about dancers. We’ve had this in the past and we won’t have it again.

“Finally, no drugs or alcohol are permitted in these grounds, however I hope that goes without saying. If you disobey certain rules your punishment could lead to expulsion.”

“Yes, miss.” Was all he replied.

Just then someone came running down the stairs, jumping the last three steps and landing a few feet from Remus.

“Evan Rosier is here to see you.” The receptionist informed.

The boy was tall and slender, with a mess of blonde hair atop of his head. He wore a sports shirt along with gym shorts and battered sneakers. He must’ve just come out of training.

“Mr Lupin, I wish you the best of luck.” McGonagall told him before disappearing back to where she came from.