“Darren dumped her,” she said gravely to Remus, “She’s a complete wreck, poor
thing.”
“Right before the holidays?” Remus said, shocked, “Bit harsh!”
“Yeah,” Lily replied, sadly, “Said he couldn’t be bothered waiting around for her while
she’s at school all year – wants a girlfriend closer to home. I think she’s well shot of him, he
sounds horrible.”
“Bet Marlene’s happy, though,” Remus grinned, “Won’t have to hear about it
anymore.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Lily’s face was grim, “She hasn’t shut up about how much she loved
him yet…”
“Poor thing.” Remus dig around in his pocket and withdrew his last sugar quill, “Give
her this, tell her I hope she feels better, eh?”
“Ahh, you’re so sweet, Remus,” Lily kissed him on the cheek, then headed upstairs
again.
“She wasn’t that upset when she broke up with me,” Sirius muttered indignantly,
moving a chess piece.
“Well,” Remus shrugged, settling back down to the game, “She dumped you, didn’t
she. I expect it’s different when you’re the one getting dumped.”
“I wasn’t that upset.”
“I didn’t think you and Mary were that serious,” James yawned, playing exploding
snap on the rug with Peter. “You were only thirteen.”
“Fourteen.” Sirius corrected. “But I take your point. Didn’t really give it a fair go, did
we?”
“You weren’t very mature about it,” Peter murmured, thumbing through his cards.
“No, well no one ever caught us snogging in broom cupboards, you’re right,” Sirius
snapped.
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Black,” Peter replied, dryly.
“Oi, you all promised me the snogging thing was over.” Remus said, pointedly, giving
them all a dark look.
“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, Moony,” Peter grinned.
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SEVENTY-ONE
Fourth Year: June
Saturday 28th June 1975
“Hiya, Remus!” Lily startled him as he was leaving the hospital wing. He’d just had his
final check up with Madam Pomfrey before school ended.
“Hello.” He said, nervously, “What are you doing here?”
“Dropping these off for Professor Slughorn,” she raised a large jar of something that
looked like purple frogspawn, “We’ve been doing healing potions in Slug Club this term.
Wait here, I’ll walk back with you.”
She disappeared inside the infirmary and he waited, trying not to look too suspicious.
He hated being seen near the hospital. Lily finally came out with a breezy smile,
“Thanks! What were you doing in there?”
“Oh, nothing, I um… a hex that went wrong.”
“Oh gosh, what happened?”
“Er… I’d rather not say.” He raised an eyebrow suggestively, hoping that she would get
the picture. Fortunately, her mind went elsewhere,
“Was it Potter again? Ugh, he hexed Sev last week with something that made his neck
swell up like a life ring!”
“Huh, yeah, James is good at engorgement charms,” Remus grinned.
“Well I wouldn’t have thought he’d hex the people who are supposedly his friends,”
Lily replied, primly.
“It wasn’t him!” Remus replied, annoyed. He was keen not to badmouth James in front
of Lily, after the mix up back in January.
“Black, then.” Lily shrugged, “He’s just as bad. No idea why everyone fancies him.”
“Mm.”
“So… Big plans for the summer?” Lily changed tact, perhaps realising that Remus
didn’t particularly enjoy her tirades on the other marauders.
“Nah,” Remus shook his head, “Usual stuff, probably. Homework. You?”
“I’m going to visit Marlene in July, we’re trying to get Mary to come.”
“How is she?”
Mary had been absent from every meal since the big break up, and had barely left the
girls dorm as far as Remus could tell.
“Better,” Lily nodded, sadly, “She can go a few hours without crying, anyway. Keeps
playing depressing Dusty Springfield albums, though.”
They reached the portrait of the fat lady and bumped into Peter – and Desdemona
Lewis, of course. They were in a tight embrace, arms wrapped around each other,
murmuring between kisses;
“I’ll miss you!” She sighed,
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“I’ll miss you more!” Peter said.
“Will you write?”
“Every day!”
Remus made loud retching noises, which made Lily giggle, but earned a furious frown
from Peter. They quickly climbed through the portrait and left the lovebirds to it.
Gryffindor tower was complete anarchy when they reached it – as was usual on the last
day of term. Students crawled under tables looking for lost things, ran around collecting up
cards and game pieces, shouts of ‘accio left trainer!’ or ‘A ccio wristwatch!’ rang out as
everyone scrambled to pack at the very last minute. Remus couldn’t help but wonder
whether every common room was undergoing the same pandemonium – surely the
organised Ravenclaws were in a much better state.
Sirius and James were not doing much to help the process – they were covertly
levitating various items from behind one of the large armchairs, snickering to each other
happily. Remus smiled, thinking again how much he would miss everything.
“You two!” Lily scolded them, marching over, holding her own wand up.
Sirius laughed and ducked behind James,
“Come on, Evans, just a bit of last day high spirits!”
“Why can’t you just leave people be, Black?!”
“Why can’t you leave us be,” he retorted, firing green sparks at the ceiling from behind
James’s back, “You’re not a prefect yet, y’know!”
“Oooh, just wait ‘til I am!” She said, trying to throw a jinx at Sirius. It hit James
instead, and turnips immediately sprung from his ears, the shocked expression on his face
so comical that Remus collapsed into giggles.
“Well t hat wasn’t very goody-goody,” Sirius laughed, transfiguring a nearby lamp into
a flock of birds which fluttered screeching around the room, adding to the chaos.
Lily’s next move was to shoot a jelly-legs jinx at James, causing him to fall to the floor
in a heap, still clutching his turnip ears. With him out of the way and Sirius exposed, Lily
disabled him with a binding spell, then turned to Remus.
“Help me sort all this out, will you?”
“Aww… ok, fine,” Remus sighed, still wiping tears of laughter away from his eyes.
Together they managed to restore the common room to order, de-transfigure the lamp,
repair the singe marks on the ceiling and calm down a wailing first year who had lost her
cat. Lily left Remus to handle James and Sirius, who were in a real state now.
“Isn’t she marvellous,” James grinned dopily, as Remus tried to help him into a nearby
chair, his legs still unsteady, folding underneath him.
“Yeah, a real charmer,” Sirius grumbled, struggling to get free from his body-bind.
“You two are just lucky she only uses her power for good,” Remus chastened them,
“You’d be no match for her if she decided to start really breaking the rules. Finite.” He
pointed his wand at Sirius, who was finally released. He rubbed his arms fiercely,
“Can’t believe you helped her, Moony!”
“Of course I did,” Remus shrugged, “I’m terrified of her.”
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* * *
Sunday 29t h June 1975
“Oi, you two! We’ll miss the train!” Remus huffed, climbing the stairs to their dorm for
what felt like the hundredth time that morning.
Their trunks had already been transported down to Hogsmeade station by some
magical mechanism, and McGonagall had given the ten minute warning, but James and
Sirius had vanished again.
He found them sitting on James’s bed, which was stripped of bedclothes, heads bowed
over something small Sirius was holding cupped carefully in his hands. The room felt
horribly hollow and empty without all of the marauders things in it. The two black haired
boys turned towards him as he entered, and Remus felt he had intruded on something very
private. He hung back a moment, awkwardly.
“Sorry, Moony,” James smiled, climbing off the bed, “We’re ready, eh Black?”
“Yeah, ‘course,” Sirius got up too. He had a dazed, distracted expression which made
Remus ache on the inside. “Look what James gave me,” Sirius said, as he crossed the room.
He held out something round and silver. Remus took it. It was warm from Sirius’s hands. It
was a compact mirror, beautifully etched with an ornate filigree style design.
“Er…” Remus turned it over, snapping it open, “Very um… pretty?”
James laughed,
“It’s magic – belonged to my grandad. Look,” He opened his own, identical compact
and looked into it. Remus looked down at Sirius’s mirror, and was amazed to see James’s
bespectacled face grinning back at him. “So we can keep in touch over the summer.”
“Oh my god!” Remus exclaimed, “That’s amazing!”
“I know,” James nodded, closing his compact and slipping it into his back pocket.
“Wish I could have got them for all of us, but they’re old family heirlooms and there’s only
two…”
“Oh, of course,” Remus handed the corresponding case back to Sirius. There was an
awkward few seconds silence, before Remus cleared his throat, “C’mon, McGonagall’s
gonna hex us into next week if we miss the carriages.”
They did make the carriages, and the train in time, and piled into their usual
compartment.
Remus was most disconcerted to find that this year their little carriage space was
packed full of people. Not only the four marauders, but of course Desdemona was invited to
join them – Remus had still not heard her say more than two words, possibly because her
lips were so often occupied.
Mary joined them too, at Sirius’s request. He had been paying her a good deal of
attention over the past few days, and it was obvious she was rather enjoying it, having
recently taken a heavy knock to her confidence. With Mary as always was Marlene, and
finally Lily, who would have been forced to sit alone, otherwise.
As such, it was an incredibly noisy ride back to London. Between Sirius trying to
impress Mary by singing every Beatles song he knew, James switching between trying to
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attract Lily’s attention and talk quidditch tactics with Marlene, and Peter and Desdemona’s
fevered fumblings, Remus simply sat back against the window and enjoyed being among
friends for what might be the last time in a very long time.
He tried not to think about the war, or who might go missing over the summer. He
tried not to think about Sirius, alone and abused in a cold London mansion. He tried not to
think about Ferox, off on dangerous missions for Dumbledore. He just watched his friends,
their faces bright and animated, full of excitement and emotion.
He rubbed the back of his head, sleepily. His skinhead cut had grown out, and he had a
pile of mousey brown curls now. He might not cut it again. He wouldn’t let Matron do it, he
decided; it was better longer. Softer. He didn’t want to look hard and mean anymore, he
didn’t feel like he needed to. Smiling to himself, Remus drifted to sleep.
* * *
Fourth year, epilogue: Some hours later…
Remus dragged his trunk from the bus, and down the long road to St Edmund’s all by
himself. It was the first year Matron hadn’t met him at King’s Cross – she’d sent him his
bus fare ahead of time and told him he was old enough now to make the journey alone.
Perhaps she hoped he wouldn’t come back at all. But where else would he go?
He entered the cold grey building with a sense of resignation, signed himself in at the
front desk and made his way to his dorm. It was a bright, warm day, and he could hear most
of the other boys shouting outside. He was hot and sticky, and hoping for a shower and a
few quiet hours alone in which he could unpack and maybe get started on his summer
reading. But as he entered the dorm room, he found he was not entirely alone.
There was a boy sitting on the bed adjacent to his. He must have been new; Remus
didn’t recognise him from last year. He looked about fifteen or sixteen, and wore a light
blue vest top with orange piping and long flared denim jeans. His socks didn’t match. His
hair was blond and curly, his face sunny and snub nosed. He had a casual, friendly air.
“Oh, hello.” Remus said quietly, dragging his trunk over to his bed.
“Orright?” The other boy greeted him. He had a chipped front tooth and a lopsided
grin that made Remus want to smile back at him. His hair was long-ish and fell into his
eyes. “You’re the kid wot goes to the fancy school all year, are ya? Name’s Grant.”
Remus nodded, politely,
“Remus. Nice to meet you.”
“Blimey,” Grant cracked an even wider smile, “They said you was posh! Wan’ me to
bow to ya, m ’lord? ”
Remus returned a soft smile, unable to help himself. The other boy wasn’t being rude,
or nasty. He forgot how much his accent had changed, after four years at Hogwarts.
“Big reader, are ya?” Grant nodded at the books Remus was unpacking.
“I get a lot of homework.” Remus said. Then he decided to relax a bit, “And yeah, I like
reading.”
“Cool.” Grant replied. He lay back on the bed, arms behind his head, his long body
stretched out, shirt rising up to expose the strip of skin just above his hips. Remus glanced
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at him sideways as he unpacked, trying not to look too much like he was looking. “So,”
Grant was saying, “What sort of music d’you like?”
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SEVENTY-TWO
Summer 1975
Dear Moony,
I’m pretty sure I can get away with writing letters at least for now. I imagine they’re
being read, but I DON’T GIVE A SHIT, DO YOU HEAR ME, REGULUS??
Dreadful so far. Looks like Mum tried to take down my Gryffindor stuff while I was
away, but I put it up with permanent sticking charms. I’m going to see if there’s anything
else I can put up to piss her off.
There’s a big family meeting next week, posh dinner, dress robes, best behaviour etc.
etc. James thinks I should keep my head down and just make note of who attends and what
gets said in case it’s useful later. I don’t know. Sort of want to set off some dungbombs
instead. What would you do?
Sirius.
* * *
Sirius,
Getting on with Reg, then? Go easy on him, you don’t have anyone else on your side.
Please be careful. I don’t know what I’d do, I’ve never been to a posh dinner. Probably
make a twat of myself. Don’t do anything stupid, ok? James is usually right.
Remus.
* * *
Dear Remus,
Can’t believe I have to spend the whole summer without any of you. Sometimes I really
hate being an only child. I bet you’re never lonely, at St Edmund’s.
Sirius seems ok, he checks in pretty often, I think he’s bored. If boredom is the worst
of it, then that’s a good thing, right? I keep trying to convince him not to make a fuss – we
don’t know what sort of thing the Blacks are involved in. Could be nothing at all.
Hope your summer is off to a good start. Have you looked at the homework? That
Charms essay looks like a right ball ache.
James.
* * *
James,
He’d be fine if he could control himself, but I doubt it. Keep talking to him, remind
him he’s got to get back to Hogwarts in one piece.
Summer is fine. You’re right, I don’t ever get lonely. I wouldn’t mind a bit of privacy
most of the time, but this summer’s been good. Don’t worry about me.
That Charms essay is a doddle and you know it. You just don’t like hard work, Potter.
Remus.
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* * *
Moony,
Greetings from San Francisco! I thought it would be hot here, but it’s bloody freezing
and rains most of the time. Merlin knows why Philomena would want to live here, it’s no
different than dear old Blighty.
Pete.
* * *
Dear Moony,
Caused uproar this week, it was brilliant. Found a bunch of old muggle posters in a
skip down the road – pictures of girls, you know the sort. They don’t even move, it’s
hilarious. Anyway, stuck them up on the walls with my patented sticking charm, and mum
IS FURIOUS.
I think she’s probably only annoyed because they’re muggle girls, she couldn’t care
less that they’ve got their tits out. Anyway, now I can’t go out unsupervised. Worth it,
though.
Sirius.
* * *
Sirius,
You’re an idiot and you know it. Posters??? Don’t you feel weird with them all staring
at you?
Remus.
* * *
Dear Remus,
Really worried about Sirius. I don’t know if he told you about the stunt he pulled with
the posters, but he’s a bloody idiot for doing it. Don’t believe him if he says he’s fine, he’d
definitely been crying when I spoke to him last with the mirror (don’t tell him I told you
that, obviously).
Standby in case we need to trigger the rescue mission.
James.
* * *
James,
Ready when you are.
Remus.
* * *
Moony,
Don’t listen to Potter, he’s an old woman. Everything’s fine, nothing I can’t cope with.
Hope you’re having a good summer. Can’t wait for September.
Sirius.
* * *
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Friday 22n d August 1975
Remus staggered weakly into the dorm room. It had been a bad one. Madam Pomfrey
thought it must be because of the change of scenery. He had a long thick scar across his
chest, now – it had been ages since he’d got a scar.
Grant sat up abruptly, looking hurt.
“Where you been?” He asked, “Thought you’d got arrested or summink.”
“Sick,” Remus replied.
“Sick wiv what?”
Remus sighed, flopping down on his bed. It had been a hard night, and he just wanted
to sleep. He closed his eyes. He didn’t feel like excuses today.
“Well, it was the full moon last night, you see.” He said, calmly, “When I was five I was
bitten by a werewolf and now I am one. I turn every month, and Matron locks me up so I
don’t hurt anyone else.”
“Oh, ha ha.” Grant replied, climbing onto Remus’ bed, straddling him. They were both
so skinny they fit easily together on the narrow bunk. “Very funny, clever clogs. Fine, don’t
tell me.”
He leaned forward and kissed Remus.
Remus opened his eyes, freezing for a moment. “S’fine,” Grant assured him, stroking
his cheek, “They’re all outside, I checked.”
Remus kissed him back.
It had been a strange sort of summer, but one of the most pleasant Remus had ever
had. He hadn’t been lonely, for once; hadn’t counted down the days until the first of
September.
In the beginning, he and Grant had bonded over David Bowie, T-Rex and Neil Young –
even Deep Purple, who Grant was crazy about and Remus thought Sirius would probably
like. They both hated football – and the other boys – so they sloped off together around
town, or sat behind the big empty portakabins smoking stolen packs of fags.
They had been sitting there on the hot gravel one day in mid-July, flicking stones and
debating the finer points of E lectric Warrior, when suddenly Grant’s hand was on Remus’
knee, then at his waist, pulling him closer.
“What are you-!?”
“It’s all right,” Grant whispered, desperation edging his voice, pressing his forehead
against Remus’s hot cheek, “No one’s gonna find out.” He tasted like cigarettes and
sunburn.
After that, whenever they were alone together they were snogging.
It was sort of a surprise, but mostly not. Remus quickly realised that he had always
wanted it – this, or something like it. Like a fog lifting. All things considered, he was
grateful to Grant for having taken the initiative.
It wasn’t what you could call romantic, or affectionate. More like a necessary thing.
Something Remus knew that he had to push as far as it would go, so that he could identify
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all of the hard edges and sharp limits of it. He was mapping out his own desires, and using
Grant as a compass.
His full name was Grant Chapman. He had just turned sixteen, and he’d been at St.
Edmund’s since May, though it was by no means his first Home. Both of Grant’s parents
were living, and he even had some extended family – grandparents and aunts and uncles
and grown-up cousins. But none of them seemed to want to keep him on for very long,
“Too much of a handful,” Grant would grin, cheekily. “Everyone gets sick of me in the
end.”
Like most of the boys at St Edmund’s, he did badly at school and had been in trouble
with the police a few times on minor offences, though he’d never been officially arrested.
He wasn’t violent, but he had a mouth on him and a tendency to talk back. But there wasn’t
a threatening bone in his body, he was so clearly good all over.
He had a spectacular smile; it creased his whole face and made you like him at once.
One of his canine teeth was a bit wonky and it was nothing short of endearing. Remus
couldn’t see why no one wanted him around. He was a bit silly sometimes; a bit immature,
but that was ok – Remus knew he could be too serious a lot of the time. Something about
Grant’s chirpy, happy-go-lucky nature made Remus more confident – comfortable. And
Grant just liked Remus so much. Really liked him.
“You’re the funniest bloke I ever met.” Grant laughed, when Remus hadn’t even said
anything that amusing. “Mind you, never copped off with anyone from a p rivate school
before.”
“I’m no different from you,” Remus replied, “A care home yob.”
“Piss off,” Grant shoved him, playfully, “You’re going places, anyone can see that.”
Remus didn’t have a response to that, but it made him smile. Grant often made him
smile.
Besides all of these things, Grant was a really, really good kisser. At least, Remus
assumed as much, considering that Grant was the only person he had ever kissed. The first
time, he’d felt a wild thrill as he thought to himself; s o THIS is what all the fuss is about!
He could snog Grant all day long, without coming up for air. Sometimes he found
himself compulsively pursing his lips in the night, hot with withdrawal pangs. Remus had
expected kissing to be scary and awkward, but – as with so many things – Grant just put
him ease. He made it fun, right from the beginning; no fuss, no questions.
“If you’re only here for the summer then we might as well enjoy it, eh?” He would say,
cheerfully, “Don’t worry, I ain’t exactly about to propose, sweet as you are.”
“Sweet!” Remus scoffed.
“Sweet,” Grant winked, “And too bloody good for me by half.”
Remus hated that kind of talk, and shut him up with another kiss.
They had to hide most of the time, of course. From the other boys, and from the staff.
Remus couldn’t imagine what would happen if they were found out – they’d be separated,
definitely, even if they weren’t beaten to a pulp. Would Matron tell Dumbledore? Could
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they expel you, for being a… well, for kissing other boys? Fortunately, Grant had some
experience in covert operations, and they never even came close to being disturbed.
“How many times have you done this sort of thing?” Remus got up the courage to ask,
one day. They were behind some disused bike sheds at the local secondary school.
“Few times,” Grant shrugged, “Not enough. You?”
“Never!” Remus replied, shocked. “I didn’t even…”
“Oh bless ya,” Grant laughed lightly, tugging one of Remus’s curls, “You didn’t know.”
Remus shook his head, his ears growing hot. Grant tutted, “Never look at another
bloke a bit too long? Never get that feeling about a film star, or a teacher?”
“…Oh my god!” Remus gasped, images of Ferox crashing down on him. Grant laughed
again.
“And I thought you were all at it, you boarding school lads.”
Remus just shook his head again in disbelief, wondering if there was anything else he
didn’t know about himself.
As September approached Remus found himself trying to ignore it. He felt guilty for
not having spent the summer worrying about the war, for being distracted by his own
selfish urges, especially at a time like this. But at the same time, he felt that he might never
have this opportunity again.
The other marauders sent letters, as they did every summer – Remus diligently wrote
back, not wanting them to worry. He said nothing at all about Grant. He didn’t know w hat
to say, sure that if he put pen to paper it would all come spilling out, and the other boys
would never speak to him again. Or worse; they’d try to understand it, without looking him
in the eye.
That was part of it. On the other hand, Remus just l iked the idea of keeping it to
himself. The marauders didn’t have to know e verything about him, and he was allowed to
have other friends, wasn’t he?
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