I can never understand… why don’t I have it.
The boy watches, as though from a distance. However, he is not. The scene plays out around him, giggles brushing over his shoulders, playful nudges causing him to double step. Inside jokes and glances, near him, but never to him. It embarrasses him. There is no real reason for his feelings, no grand scheme to stomp on his self esteem, to make him feel the outsider. Yet. Yet he can’t help the burning sensation form in his eyes, the threat of hot, irrational tears spilling over. His peers continue to bustle around him, a seemingly silent language causing them all to twist and vibrate at the same frequency, all but him. He feels like a pebble redirecting a stream, a runt destined to pass on and fade from memory. Why do I not have it? The voice in his mind raises once more. It’s a high pitched noise, different from his now gravely tone, reminiscent of the boy he had once been when he first walked these halls. Pity, you’ve had so much time and yet you’ve never figured it out. This is worse honestly, I sometimes wish that they were laughing at me rather than without me.Shut it, he forces back, readjusting the strap of his book bag in his shoulder, furiously blinking away the vestiges of tears. Shut it, shut the fuck up. His nails bite into the palm, undoubtedly and ironically forming crescent moons in their wake.
The boy held no doubt that there were seemingly more outward reasons for his exclusion. Scars that he had once been able to hide with a long sleeve and trousers had now become many, and poked up out of his collar. An especially thick line formed at his temple and stretched across through brow, over the bridge of his nose and tapered on his cheekbone, near his ear. Similar slashes of shiny scar tissue litter his knuckles, stretching and standing out against his tan skin. Yet. Yet in a world where stranger things happen than his… condition, there were many a student whose appearance were the cause of conversation, and never hindered their ability to blend into their surrounding contently. The boy sighed, and split off from the swarm, opting to disappear to his room rather than follow the rest to the courtyard to study. Ducking under the archway of a door one would typically feel the urge to ignore, he strode down the empty hallway towards the rickety stairwell he knew he’d find at the end, one that would lead to a hatch in a broom closet located across from his dorm.
Around him, heavy wooden doors lead to long abandoned classrooms, covered in a thick carpet of dust, cleared away i’m only in a few places by his searching hands during earlier explorations. Despite the fact that outside the sun was surely burning high in the sky, in this wing, the little sunlight that filtered in was blue, casting everything in hazy glow that always reminded the boy of the moon. In the silence of the abandoned hallway, the boy felt his heart slow to a calmer pace, no longer the anxious stuttering he’d felt when with his peers. He let his pace slow down, pausing at a doorway to watch floating dust be lit up by the blue light and slowly settle upon a celestial globe that sat, forgotten, in its equally remembered classroom. Perhaps, if he were anyone else, the boy would have moved on without a care, or would have felt sad for hallway no one remembered. Yet. The celestial globe spun, despite being on its own. Gold and silver markings marked constellations, planets and moons, far and wide. The hallway thrummed with the sound of silence, so very different from the rest of the building yet still so alive in its own right. The boys heart stuttered once more, however now it filled with a feeling that felt nearly foreign to him. Hope, or rather its cousin, reason, spread through scarred, gangly limbs to the very edges of his existence. If such an odd space existed in such harmony, surely there was hope for him. Just as this secret wing held its own silent language, different yet equally as well rounded as the unspoken language of his school, perhaps someday he’d find those who spoke to him. A threat of doubt pierces like a needle through his chest, causing him to wince, but he shakes the feeling off, and scampers up the stairs.
—
He finds himself sitting on the stairs later that night, that same effervescent glow setting his surroundings ablaze in that strange blue light. The full moon draws nearer, and his skin itches, as if he would be able to crawl out of it completely should he dig deep enough. His only solace is the blunt resting against his lips and finger, the cherry a stark contrast to the night around him. He angles his head towards the window he had managed to crack open after some struggle, and is about to blow out a stream of smoke when the hatch behind creaks and slams open. He gasps and promptly coughs as the thick smog of burnt marijuana enters his throat and lungs, and flicks what was left of the bud out the open window, clearing the air before him with the other. Spinning on his heal, and reaching for his pocket he looks towards the source of the noise, a series of rapid thuds descending towards him, and takes a few stops back.
From the behind the wall emerges a shock of black hair, pale skin and silver. The newcomer is a boy, his age, eyes wide, frantic, yet amused. The newcomer, alas, is also completely unaware of the other presence, just barely managing to slow himself in time to not run into the other. They stare at each other, unsure.
Sirius Black.
His age, same house even. Despite this, they have never shared more than a word. The raven haired boy lived two floors below him, virtually in a whole other world. Black was notorious in their grade, hell, their school. A total enigma, intelligent and unmistakably handsome, yet careless and too odd to understand. For all that he seemed to draw others in, he only ever truly spoke with his closest friends, James and Peter. Rumor had it that not even his brother, Regulus, was privy to his friendship.
“Merde”, Black breathed, staring at the other in shock. Not a second later came a loud crash, and two more heads popped out from behind him. An equally dark, yet significantly wilder mop of hair belonged to one James Potter, whose face turned into a warm, tentative and slightly guilty smile at the sight of the stranger. Peter Pettigrew, on the other hand, simply raised an eyebrow at the scene, an amused smirk creeping along his features. They were at a stand still. Above them, the hatch continues to creak lightly as a sudden torrent of footsteps passed over head, the sound of furious shouts and grumbled echoing down the hall by whoever had obviously been chasing the three boys. Or, as the boy knew, what professors and many students had dubbed them as, the marauders.
The group of marauders seemed to catch their breath and relax, without ever taking an eye if the stranger.
“Lupin, isn’t it?” The silence was broken by Potter. The boy nodded.
“Remus Lupin” supplied Black, looking the scarred boy up and down.
Remus shifted uncomfortably, tugging in his sleeve, desperately wishing he had gone out on the roof instead for a smoke, rather than be caught down here, in whatever mess the boys had surely been concocting. “Don’t wear it out, mate” he muttered, before deciding to head out while he had a chance. It was clear the hall was no longer a safe space for him to escape to. With the likes of Black, Potter and Pettigrew around, it was sure to be known by everyone come the end of the week.
“ I wouldn’t leave now if I were you,” called Potter, “Filch is out there with the Slytherins, if they catch you you’ll be scrubbing the floors until the winter holidays.” Remus gave in and stopped his trek, letting the boys walk over to him. “We’ll have to wait it out, I’d say they’ll give up after ten minutes. They won’t know to look here, so we should be safe” said Pettigrew. “The stairs basically lead straight to my—“
“You smoke?” Black interrupts, looking at Remus curiously. At his confused look, Black holds out a red zippo lighter. “You left it on the stairs” He says casually, his hand still out palm opened in offering. Remus reaches for it and Black quickly closes his hand and pulls away.
“You smoke?” He repeats, lips pulled in smirk. Remus huffs, starting to become annoyed.
“Yes” He forces out.
“Cigs?”
“Joints”. Blacks eyes widen momentarily. Potter leans over and flicks him on the forehead. “Sorry about him, he doesn’t get out much.” Black cries out in protest. “His cousin Andy smokes too, but doesn’t let him ever try. Poor sods been on the hunt to try it out, it has to do with his weird muggle obsession.”
Remus winces at the phrasing. Potter grimaces, “Agh, didn’t mean it like that. All I meant is that we all know that the Black family has a… reputation, and Sirius wishes to unlearn that in every possible way.” Remus can’t help but laugh at the explanation. He rolls his shoulders and cocks his head at the strange crew, before shrugging and pulling out the extra spliff he had tucked into his pajama pocket.
“Go ahead then, try something new,” Black stares at him in wonder, before graciously taking the joint from Remus.
Remus motions for them to follow him, and heads into one of the classrooms. Grabbing the edge of the window, he taps into the strength that he typically has to hide, and pulls it open all of the way, shaking loose a thick layer of dust. The others settle around him, Black leaning back against the windowsill on his elbows, Pettigrew halfway sitting in a desk, and Potter pulling up a chair to sit backwards on. There’s the metallic whir of the lighter being struck, and a small rush as the flame catches the tip of the spliff. Black eagerly places it to his lips, inhaling deeply, before breaking into a raucous cough. Remus and Pettigrew belt out laughs, while Potter smacks the raven on the back, head shaking.
“Chill the fuck out mate” exclaims Remus, amusement evident in his voice. Blacks cheeks flush a dark color, but he brings the joint back to his lips, this time inhaling slowly. After that, he seems to get the hang of it, still coughing after each hit, but no longer as trigger happy. They pass it around in silence, just looking around at the abandoned classroom, and the fields and forest that could be seen looking out the window.
“‘M sorry for interrupting you back there.” Said Black, interrupting the quiet.
“S’okay, I just hadn’t realized anyone else knew about this place, if anything I should’ve been more careful.” Potter scoffs. “ Are you kidding me? this place is the real deal, a total secret. Except for the four of us, and perhaps Dumbledore, I’d say no one’s been through here in the past century or more.”
“It’s impressive you found it,” adds Pettigrew, “it’s pretty clear this wing doesn’t want to be found. I wouldn’t have thought you the type to go sneaking around, looking for it.”
“ I wasn’t aware you knew so much about me,” Remus says. “The wing was never hidden from me, I just realized that everyone’s eyes seem to pass right over it—“
“That’s just what we experienced!” Interjected Black excitedly. “The castle must really trust you, the way it trusts us.”
“The castle trust a bunch of… marauders such as yourselves?” Counters Remus, feeling an incredulous grin spread across his face.
“ Well, you’re clearly no saint either.” Responds Black playfully, meeting Remus’s eye for a second, before quickly looking at Potter and snatching what was left of the joint from the others fingers.
“Perhaps you’re even worthy of being a marauder yourself,” raised Potter, his warm eyes gazing across Remus’s form, scars, mess of curls, rumpled pajamas and all.
“Uh oh,” sang Pettigrew, “you’ve caught the eye of the terrible twosome, now you’re in for a whole lot of trouble”.
Despite the odd situation, the complete out of the blue conversation and company he was keeping, Remus couldn’t help but feel a warm feeling spread in his chest. Through the lingering smoke, he looked at the three boys, wondering how it is that they felt so comfortable with him, despite his countenance and reclusivity. Odder yet, how come he felt so at ease with them?
“Say Lupin… would you know any other…secrets that you’d want to share?” prodded Potter. Remus paused, took a leap of faith. “Call me Remus.”
Potter grinned. “In that case, you should call me James—“
“—Peter”
“—Sirius” The boys all jumbled out at once. The pleasant, burning sensation in Remus’s rib cage grew.
“I may have a few… though I’ll need to trust you before telling all of my secrets.” The marauders nodded solemnly, as if he had said something very serious. Peter yawned and leaned against Sirius, who took his arm and wrapped it over his shoulder, as if to carry the blond.
“I believe we have a new mission then boys,” said the raven as they all collectively stood to move towards the stairs. The other hummed in sleepy approval, James numbing something akin to “Loop-in Lupin”. Sirius stopped and looked over his shoulder at Remus, black hair navy in the moonlight, silver eyes glinting. Remus shifted under his strong gaze, but didn’t look away.
“ We start tomorrow then, Remus,” he spoke softly, “till then.” With a flip of long hair, the raven shouldered the shorter blond and they were gone, up the stairs. Remus stared, bit his lip, and then followed, intrigued in what the next day would bring.