September 1 1971
Before Hope became Mrs. Lupin, her life had been much simpler. No magic spells or potions or things that go bump in the night. When she first learned about this side of the world, it felt like a dream come alive. Her universe was suddenly double the size it had been before. Magic, brought to her by the love of her life. Lyall didn’t tell her that this world would put their only son in danger, though she supposed he hadn't known that himself. He could never have predicted that horrible night. He couldn’t have known a rude comment at work would lead to the monthly torment of their innocent son, barely five years old at the time.
Once, when Remus was nine, Hope had been patching him up in the tub after a particularly bad full moon, using a rag soaked in hot water to gently clean his open wounds. Remus asked her, in a small voice, if it was worth it.
“If what was worth it?”
“Like, do you ever wonder if your life would be easier without me and Papa?”
Hope wanted to cry. Everything she wanted to say flooded her thoughts but when she opened her mouth nothing came out. The truth was, if Hope hadn’t married a man like Lyall and shifted her reality to this world, her life would still be much simpler, and by extension, she supposed, easier. She knew she resented Lyall, but Remus was her pride and joy. Hope often cried herself to sleep at that time, wondering how she let her own child face such pain so often, wondering if it would be better if none of the three of them had ever existed. But at the end of the day, she knew she wouldn't take it back. She’d do it all again if it meant being here with her boy.
But that is a lot to explain to a nine year old, so instead she said, “the world can be a very cruel place, Remus. Awful things happen that we can’t understand and no one will stop to explain it to you. Nothing is permanent or perfect and we have no control. All we have is love, at the end of the day. Just love and each other. Of course it’s worth it, because I have the most valuable thing in the world.”
***
This was it. To an eleven year old Remus Lupin, this was the start of a brand new life. He had fought with his mother like he never had before and he won. She let him go. Finally, he was going to be somewhere where there was nothing strange about him. He would be just a boy, just a magical boy. He was only hours away from being able to say he was a student at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He could get used to that.
There, on platform 9 ¾, he was almost swallowed up by the rush of the crowd, the excitement, the coo of Owls in cages, and the laughter of school children. He wore a sweater his mama had knitted him for the special occasion, grey with four stripes across the chest: red, yellow, blue, and green. Over it he wore a tweed blazer, which he refused to acknowledge was much too big for him, with a pink carnation pinned to its lapel. His hair was recently, messily cut by his mum and his light brown curls fell across his forehead just above his eyes. His mum always made sure his hair wouldn’t be in his eyes.
Remus’s mum and dad kissed him goodbye and that was that. He was alone on the platform, waiting. Suddenly and all at once, Remus felt so small. He was drowning in his blazer and beginning to sweat. He stumbled as an older boy shoulder checked him while passing through.
“Watch it kid!” the older boy spat, looking over his shoulder at Remus. Remus followed the boys eyes as they left his own and scrutinized the long scar that ran across his cheek. He was feeling it again – that hot sting of embarrassment. Here, where all was magical and good, he was being looked at like a freak. Again. How could he think this would be any different?
Hot tears threatened to spill from Remus’s eyes, a humiliation he thought may be worse than death. Then, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, Remus found himself face to face with yet another boy, although Remus knew immediately by his gap toothed smile that this one wasn’t here to ridicule him.
“I like your suitcase. Can I look at the patches?”
The boy gestured to the one of two bags Remus carried containing his measly belongings. The suitcase the boy liked was covered with stickers and Patches Remus had collected with his mum. They had bands they liked, cities, movie quotes, all kinds of things.
“Er – sure. ‘Course,” Remus obliged.
The boy smiled and crouched by the suitcase to get a better look. Unsure of what to say or what to with his hands or where to look, Remus said the only fact he could remember.
“I’m Remus, by the way.”
The boy blinked.
“Oh god, I’m sorry mate. My ma was just telling me to not get carried away with silly things and I’ve done it again. Don’t tell her, yeah? I’m James, anyway.”
James stuck out his hand and Remus shook it gratefully. James was taller than Remus, but not by much. He had unkempt black hair and light brown skin. Thick glasses made his eye comically large and He had a black mole on his chin and another just above his eyebrow. Remus thought they were nice moles.
Luckily for Remus, James kept talking. He asked Remus where he got each of the cases adornments and what they all meant. Sometimes, Remus had a story about one and James listened like Remus was the most interesting person in the world. It made Remus feel good, like he was important. Remus told him about one worn sticker that read ‘I survived the soul destroyer’ with a graphic of the 98 degree drop roller coaster.
“You’re so lucky mate, I’ve never been on any roller coaster ever.”
“Why not?”
“My parents don’t really mess with muggle stuff, they don’t think it’s interesting when we’ve got all this magic stuff. I think that’s bloody stupid though.”
“Ah, well, my mums a muggle so she takes me to all that stuff.”
“No way,” James lit up, “And your dad’s a wizard? You have everything don’t ya?”
Before Remus could answer, the first years were being ushered onto the train. Remus tried to stay close to his first and only friend, but over the commotion a woman's voice shouted, “Mijo! Ven Aqui!” which was apparently a summon for James as he shot Remus an apologetic smile and pushed against the flow of the crowd to get back to his mum. Remus couldn’t hear their conversation, but right before he was swept into the train he could see James being pulled into the arms of his mother as he fought off a smattering of kisses. It would have been sweet to Remus if it did not leave him so uncomfortably alone.
Through the narrow hall of the train car, Remus searched for an empty compartment, but the first years were the last to board and each one seemed full. Remus was beginning to fear he might have to get off and hope another train comes soon. Then, at the back of the car, Remus was out of options. There was one more compartment, not empty like he’d hoped, but housing only one boy who Remus thought looked nice enough. He slid open the door.
“Hello, is it ok if I sit here? Train’s pretty full.”
“Go for it mate, I was hoping to have a party back here.”
Remus smiled, extending his hand, “Remus.”
The boy shook his hand, “Peter.”
Peter had pale skin and dirty blonde hair, his chubby cheeks might have made him look sweet if it weren’t for his shit eating grin. Peter checked for onlookers before leaning forward to Remus and whispering, “I snatched some sweets from the ladies cart.”
Peter opened his coat and revealed to Remus an impossibly large stash of sweets, which he laid out across the seat next to him.
“Take whatever you like, I’ve got plenty,” Peter said proudly.
Remus felt struck by amazement and he quickly collected his favorite wizard treats and ate them at a pace that he would soon come to regret. Here, with chocolate melting on his fingers, Remus began to relax. He did wonder if he would see the curious boy from the platform again, but James had not turned up since the train began moving. Peter told Remus about how badly he hoped he’d be sorted into Gryffindor, the house of his heroes, he’d said. Remus responded that he thought Ravenclaw sounded nice. He liked the sound of Hufflepuff, too.
As Peter regaled Remus with stories of hopes and dreams and excitement for quidditch tryouts, it seemed like there was a small explosion a few compartments down and the shouts of students as well as the smell of burning plastic interrupted their conversation. It was only about two seconds after the loud bang that James came careening into the compartment with Remus and Peter. He had some kind of glitter stuck in his hair and we whispered quickly, “I’ve been here the whole time.”
Remus barely had time to think before another boy came running after James, stopping angrily at their doorway. The boy had black hair and a light complexion that only amplified the shine of the red glitter that was splattered across the middle of his face. He turned to face James immediately.
“That was a real cute move you pulled there.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about mate, I’ve been here the whole time with my pal Remus.”
Remus looked away, nervous and embarrassed, and made eye contact with Peter. Remus couldn’t believe it, Peter was giggling.
“No you haven’t, you’ve got a trail of glitter following you!”
James sighed, “Fine! It was me! And I’m sorry ‘cause I didn't mean to hit you, I was going for your little girlfriend.”
The boy made a face, “Gross, Bellatrix is my cousin.”
“Well your cousin was being a right twat.”
To Remus’s horror, Peter burst into laughter. Loud laughter. All three boys stared, silent as Peter laughed and then sighed aloud, finally looking right at the new boy and saying, “in or out mate, we can’t have the cart lady seeing all our contraband.”
The boy seemed to really think for a second, then, to James he asked,”right, what did she say?”
“Something rotten about a muggle born girl,” James said, a little quieter.
The boy sighed and took a step inside the compartment, closing the door behind him.
“She can be such a twat,” then, with a small smile, “I’m Sirius.”
James' expression quickly changed and he chuckled, “sit down then, Sirius, it’s not safe to be standing so much.”
Sirius did so, helping Peter to move his stash of sweets, and Remus offered him a handkerchief for his face. Underneath the glitter, Sirius had perfect skin in a way that acne prone remus found deeply unfair.
With a toothy grin on his face, James said, “I’m James, this is Remus, and – well I haven’t actually met this lad yet.”
“Peter.”
“Nice to meet you, Peter.”
“Nice to meet you, James.”
And so the four of them sank into comfortable conversation. Remus, ever aware of the importance of these moments, told himself to savor it as much as he could. He took in the rolling hills of the countryside. He memorized where the cracks were on James’s glasses, the fine material of Sirius’s purple vest, the pattern of Peter's foot tapping. If you asked Remus years later what they talked about on the first long train ride, he probably couldn’t tell you, he had accidentally become too busy learning the flicker of their personal light.