Passion
Chapter Five:
“James, it’s not a hard lift!”
Remus was watching the rest of Group A practice. It was a Wednesday and the first two hour period was a free class. He was sitting cross legged on the floor and his book sitting open on his lap. James and Lily were attempting to practice together.
“It would be easier if you would trust me enough to let me actually lift you!” James shot back in agitation.
“I would trust you if you could actually lift me!” Lily threw her hands up.
“I would lift you if you would-“
“Jesus Christ, shut up!” Dorcas called at them. She had been lying on back next to Remus with her hands across her stomach, but she now had head propped on her hand. She rolled her eyes as she looked at the pair. Remus chuckled lightly to himself.
“Fine,” Lily sighed. “I’ll go practice jumps. You,” She pointed her finger at James and narrowed her eyes. “Stay over there.”
James held his hands in surrender. “Fine by me.” And he waddled over to Sirius Black, who was practicing at the barre.
Remus sighed and heaved himself up off the floor. He may as well do something, he supposed. He set his book down next to his academy bag and walked to the side of the room.
He hadn’t learned the audition solo enough to practice it, so he started one of the dances he’d learned earlier in the year.
It was easily his favourite dance that he’d learned, giving it was the only one he’d truly liked. It was difficult and technical, and it was a dance he’d had to push himself to learn. That was why Remus had liked it, however. Learning it by pushing himself, pushing his body to its limits, he’d enjoyed it. Because it had felt less like ballet, and more like a challenge.
He took a deep breath and began.
It was sharp and precise, the only dance Remus had ever learned that he remembered. The world spun around him as he danced, and for a while, he could just simply forget.
His dance approached one of the most difficult movements he’d ever had to learn. The grand jetè also happened to be one of his favourites. That feeling of flying-he’d push himself hard to achieve it, which had made his ability to now perform it more rewarding.
When he leaped, for a second, he forgot where he was. Soaring, with his eyes closed, he felt weightless. When he finally landed, as his foot hit the floor, it felt like a harsh crash back to reality.
He was suddenly hyper aware of the silence in the room. When he opened his eyes, Group A was staring at him.
The first thing he felt was the burn of his cheeks, followed by a wave of embarrassment so strong he resisted the urge to run straight our of the room.
He became incredibly uncomfortable with his stance. When he was embarrassed, he always felt taller. It seemed strange, but he’d always linked embarrassment to feeling like a larger target. And being in the ballet industry, his height wasn’t exactly something he was fond of.
He wasn’t sure where to put his hands, he clasped them behind his back before shoving them into his pockets. He shifted his feet and stared at the floor.
At previous schools, despite being one of the best, people had always found a way to pick at his dancing. To make fun of it, in some way. It usually happened just after Remus joined, before everyone realised he had no plans of stealing their thunder. He should’ve assumed it would happen at Hogwarts. He almost cringed as he awaited the comments.
“Jesus Christ, I think we have a natural.” Remus looked up, eyes wide, at James Potter, who was staring back at him with his hands clasped in front of him.
The others laughed in agreement. And the emotion that Remus felt as Dorcas walked over to him, briefly gripped his shoulder as she smiled, was something he had never truly experienced before.
The day carried on normally after that, but Remus held his head a little higher.
. . .
It was later the next day that Remus met the famous Peter Pettigrew.
Remus had been heading down to the hall when he ran into James and Lily. They told him they were on their way to Marlene’s bar and asked him to join them. He’d agreed and five minutes later he was talking to half the school’s best friend.
He had been debating the finer points of “Great Expectations” with Lily-they’d found that they both shared a passion for reading-and James had been contributing better than expected for someone who had never read the book. Within no time they were pushing open the stain glassed doors to the bar.
“Peter!” James exclaimed to a boy sitting in the booth near the doors. Remus thought that James greeted everyone like he was seeing them for the very first time.
The boy had small build, round with large wide blue eyes. Neatly cropped blonde hair sat atop of his head. He looked up at James in awe, and then at Remus. They smiled and greeted each other.
He talked to Peter for nearly two hours that day, and by the time he walked out of the bar-James and Lily having left an hour earlier-Remus had found himself another friend at Hogwarts.
Peter was another patrons son, he’d never taken to ballet after his older sister severely broke her leg during a performance. Peter had told him that after that, any love he had for ballet had practically disappeared.
“Seeing it happen, you know, it just kind of installs this fear in you. Watching her fall…it was one of the worst moments of my life.” Peter had said. Remus hadn’t been able to relate to him, about caring about someone so much that watching them hurt could destroy a love for your passion. Remus had always been an only child, and ballet had never been his passion.
Peter also played chess, and Remus had insisted he must teach him someday. He’d always had a fascination with the game, but his father had frowned upon mental sports that wouldn’t strengthen him in terms of ballet.
Remus had found that Peter’s mother was the patron in his family, another high-up in the ballet social class. His father had studied chemistry in university but had never worked after he met Peter’s mother. Peter’s sister had never danced again after her injury, but she now worked as Director of a major ballet company overseas.
Peter, like Remus, had been homeschooled for a part of his life. Most ballet schools offer an education until their students turn eleven. After that, you’re either homeschooled or not schooled at all. Several of the other dancers Remus had met-like Evan and Regulus-had not been taught after that age. Their parents had forced them to focus on ballet, much like Remus assumed his own father would have done, had it not been for his mother.
After he turned eleven, Remus had tutors homeschooling him five days a week for a few hours. By the time he had turned fifteen, Remus had dropped most of his subjects, taking only English, History and Greek studies. It was most likely illegal, Remus assumed, but he had never really put much thought into it and he had certainly never confronted his parents about the matter.
He had neglected tutors by his seventeenth birthday. The studying he now did was completely voluntary. However, it had worked for him as he had found a particular love for his remaining studies. He had spent the majority of his time outside of ballet in his house’s library room, the only part of his family’s mansion that he ever truly considered to be his home.
“I had to keep up all my studies.” Peter complained. “I always wanted a background-type career in ballet, like a director or something, but after what happened to Louise…” He trailed off after the mention of his sister.
“Yes, keeping your options open.” Remus added.
Peter’s eyes lit up. “Yeah…yeah you get it, Remus.”
Unfortunately, he didn’t “get it.” Ballet had been all he’d ever known, and he assumed it was going to be all he ever would know. He didn’t tell Peter that.
He’d had to rush to class then, he’d spent his whole two hour break talking, and although being late seemed to be a habit of his it was not one he wanted to encourage.
. . .
Remus had found the school library on his second day, and been there everyday since. On his first Saturday at Hogwarts, he had made his daily trip there earlier, pushing open the oak doors of the giant room at twelve O’clock, only to find Evan Rosier himself sprawled over one of the silver velvet couches.
It was a prestigious room, high walls lined to the ceiling with books, mahogany tables were all over the room and several overly fancy couches occupied different parts of the floors. So yes, seeing a disheveled Evan passed out was something Remus had not expected to find in the great library.
He stood frozen for a moment in pure confusion before his senses came back to him. “Uh…Evan?” He called weakly. Evan did not stir.
“Evan!” He spoke louder this time, prodding the boy on the shoulder.
This time, Evan squinted and muttered something incoherent.
He sat up and stared at Remus through practically closed eyes.
“Lupin?” He asked, confused.
“Yeah…are you…” Remus didn’t really know where he was going with this. Somehow, he managed to be more confused that Evan. “…okay?” He added like an afterthought.
Evan finally rubbed his eyes and gained somewhat consciousness. Worry was starting to set in with Remus.
Evan looked up at him. “Never…” He began, “ever…try and dance the morning of a hangover.”
“Oh my god, Rosier!” Remus exclaimed as he rolled his eyes. “You actually had me worried. What the hell are you doing sleeping HERE anyway?”
“I was tired!” Evan defended himself grumpily.
He was dressed in his academy gear and Remus realised it was obvious he had been training. School gear wasn’t exactly something most of his classmates favoured wearing, Remus among them.
Remus sat down on the couch opposite Evan. He noticed the book opened on the table face-down in front of his friend. “What are you reading?” He motioned to the novel.
He picked up the book and jammed a bookmark into it, before shutting it again and setting it on the couch. “I’m tackling Jane Eyre.” He replied. “I’m telling you, those Brontë sisters can definitely write.”
Remus laughed but he impressed. He knew Evan had quit school, unwilling, at a young age and keeping up with literature was something he admired him for. Evan wasn’t half as stupid as he pretended to be.
“Not exactly a piece you’d want to try and read during a hangover, is it?” Remus raised an eyebrow.
“Tell me about it. Got three lines in and conked out. Too much focus required, and I’m way too tired.” He yawned, as if to support his claim.
Remus sighed. “You know maybe, if you want to actually sleep, you should just, you know, not go out and drink?”
“Bullshit.” Evan waved his hand in dismissal. “Maybe I should pick easier books. Or just not dance on a Saturday morning.”
“I can’t imagine why someone would voluntarily spend any of their Saturday dancing.” Remus admitted. Even after years of it, Remus was still dead set against ballet.
Evan tilted his head. “Because I love it.” He had a small smile on his face.
He’d never admit it, but Remus envied him. Evan, like himself, had grown in a patron’s house, the aristocrats of the ballet industry’s own residence, and somehow he still managed to care for it. It was his passion. Remus would never understand.
“How?” He asked quietly.
“This school,” Evan replied looking around himself. “This school made me fall in love with it.”
After their conversation, Remus roamed the halls, and Evan’s words echoed in his head. He thought about them over and over again. There was nothing in this world that he could love so much that it would make him care for ballet. He was certain of this.
. . .
He was in a fairly bad mood for the rest of the day, perhaps it was jealousy, or simply just the annoyance of having his schedule interrupted, but the last person he wanted to run into was Sirius Black.
So naturally, he ran into Sirius Black.
Remus was on his way to Studio A, having taken motivation from Evan’s motives rather than his actions, and decided to train.
As he walked to the Group A’s studio, he considered for the first time just how fortunate he was. The team, his classmates, didn’t hate him for jumping his way up Hogwarts’ own feudal system. It was strange, almost, especially since when it came to the matter of Group B. As far as Remus knew, none of them held any particular hatred for him. If they did, he wouldn’t blame them. He hated himself for what his father had done.
He had his EarPods in for the first time in what must have been years. He’d never taken to music but this “Queen” band sounded pretty good, he thought. He almost laughed at how much on an inconvenience the EarPods wire was to him until he tucked his phone into his jacket pocket.
He was lost in his thoughts, nodding his head slightly as the music drummed in his ears when he pushed open the door.
It must’ve been the EarPods that stopped him from hearing the faint sound of classical music on the other side of the door.
He was looking at the floor but his eyes snapped up as soon as he became aware of another presence in the studio. Sirius Black. Of course.
His shoulders dropped and nearly rolled his eyes. Fuck you, Queen, he thought to himself. It was too late to back out of the room, for Sirius now had his eyes on Remus, and hell was he going to let Sirius Black see he had any effect on him.
Because he didn’t. He had no effect on Remus whatsoever.
Of course, every single time he encountered Sirius the boy seemed to be training. Remus thought he must live in the studios themselves.
He pulled out his EarPods and threw his bag to the floor, keeping eye contact with Sirius.
“Black.” He greeted dismissively.
“Lupin.” Sirius returned. His tone was light and teasing and-God-could he wipe that stupid smirk off his face?
“What are you doing here on a Saturday, Lupin?” Sirius squinted his eyes at him as he leaned back against the wall, his posture relaxed.
“Practising.” Remus replied shortly. Don’t give too much information to the enemy! He didn’t know why, exactly, he was thinking this, but whatever his head was conspiring about he obeyed. “And you?” He asked curtly.
“Practising.” Sirius Black replied, mirroring Remus’ tone. “Practising for an upcoming show.” He added, when he got no reaction from Remus.
This sparked interest in Remus, and he cursed himself for it. “What show?” He asked. He knew that Hogwarts didn’t have an upcoming production. God, he hated that he was inquisitive by nature.
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” He spoke up. Remus could see satisfaction in Sirius’ eyes, now that he had got Remus’ interest. He was so desperate to be the centre of attention that Remus almost scoffed.
“It’s not a Hogwarts show,” Sirius said, as if he was reading Remus’ mind. “It’s an Official Europe Ballet production.”
Oh, of course, Remus thought to himself. The Official Europe Ballet was practically the ministry of ballet itself, in fact, many people considered it be, at least in Europe, anyway. America and the rest of the world had their own “ministries.” Perhaps that was what made the World’s Ballet Championship so famous, that it was taking the best of all companies and making them compete. And the International Academy Championship, the “Junior World’s” essentially, the competition that Hogwarts would be attending in May.
He hated that he was impressed. Sirius Black must be one of the best dancers in the world if The Official Europe Ballet was his side hobby. It was almost impossible to dance among them. Almost.
“Cool.” He replied shortly, turning to dig his water bottle out from his duffel bag.
He sensed Sirius straighten from his slouched position behind him. “You don’t like me very much, do you, Remus?”
Remus tensed. He wasn’t going to back down and lie. “No.” He replied with his face still turned away from Sirius Black.
“And why’s that?” Sirius called over to him.
“It’s just my personal opinion.” Remus turned to face him.
“You must have a reason.”
“Maybe I don’t feel like sharing.” He narrowed his eyes at Sirius.
“Fine, if you’re too afraid of my reaction, that’s on you.” Sirius held us his hands in surrender.
Remus knew what he was doing. Sirius knew what he was doing. Yet still, it worked.
“Fine. I think you’re a self-righteous and condescending arrogant asshole who was never put in his place and grew up thinking he’s perfect and has believed it ever since!” He blurted out.
Sirius merely raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m perfect?”
He felt his cheeks go hot again. It was because he was losing. He was embarrassed because he was losing. Losing to Sirius Black.
“No, I think you think you’re perfect. I , however, happen to strongly dislike you.” He held his head up in defiance.
“And tell me why, exactly you think I’m an arrogant…prick, was it?” Sirius played back.
“Asshole, actually.” Remus corrected. “And, well…I think what you did to Regulus was one of the worst things I’ve ever heard tell of.”
He watched Sirius’ face contort to some form of anger, more along the lines of disgust. He should’ve felt terrified. Fear should’ve set in. But he knew he’d struck a nerve, and he wanted to win.
And so he rushed on. “What you did to him…it wasn’t just Regulus, it was Barty and it was Evan and it was Dorcas and James got caught in the middle, which caused a further divide in friendships to the point where A’s and B’s barely mix because of you. You just had to be the best. So yes, Sirius Black, I don’t like you.”
“You don’t get it.”
“You’re right. I don’t. Because I know for a fact if I had a sibling I would never pull the shit you pulled on Regulus.” Remus has always been an only child. It had always bothered him. He assumed this was why Sirius’ actions in particular bothered him.
“Alright Lupin, you’ve been here for all of five minutes and you think you know everything. Shut up or you’ll regret it.” He was being patronising, and God, that was one thing that Remus Lupin could not stand.
“I know enough to know that you’re a complete bitch who tried to ruin his own brother’s career.”
“You wouldn’t understand.” Sirius repeated his previous point.
“Enlighten me.” Remus deadpanned.
“Fuck off, Lupin. And watch your back.” He said, pushing past Remus to get to the door. “I warned you.”
Remus should’ve felt terrible, making enemies with the academy’s number one dancer, but instead he felt successful. A strong urge to gloat came over him. He had outsmarted Sirius Black. He had shown him he was not an idiot. He would never admit it, but a part of him felt that the previous argument would have been less heated had Remus not felt the need to impress Sirius Black. It wasn’t until long after the studio door shut that it occurred to him he had done the opposite.