Chapter Text
1968, Wales
You turn your head to the sky, feeling the September sun washing your face in warmth, although the air has that sort of crisp to it, that it only has in the beginning of autumn. In the distance you can hear other kids playing, light screams echoing across the school yard, feet hammering against the ground.
It’s the first day of the semester, the first day of a new school year. On top of that it’s the first day for you in this school, as you and your parents moved here during the summer. It had been a quite boring summer break, alone in a new town where you don’t know anyone, and you had really looked forward to the school start. You hadn’t been very nervous though, because your mum told you that anyone would want to be friends with you, and naturally, you trusted her. And now you were sitting by a table outside with a group of girls.
They all have bows in their long hair, a couple have theirs in neat plaits. Your mum had coaxed you into a similar hairdo this morning — it’s the first day of school, after all, it’s important to look somewhat nice — but you really do like your hair better either tied up entirely or just loose. And besides, their bows are bigger and more colourful than your black one and their plaits are somehow more elegant, so it doesn’t really matter anyway.
You turn your attention away from the sun and your own thoughts and back to them. The girls are bickering about what to play, and you try to keep up with the conversation after having spaced out for a moment, but really, you’re not that interested. Instead, your eyes drift to the football pitch — that’s really just a piece of grass lawn — and you watch the boys. They are wrestling currently, not actually playing football at all because the ball is rolling down the school yard and away from them, all while roaring. You scrunch up your nose, deciding that sticking with the girls are your best option after all and you really should begin to take interest in their games before you’re left entirely alone.
But then you notice a boy, strolling by himself in a corner. He’s a bit smaller than the other boys, making you believe that he’s younger than you are. He’s dressed in the male version of the same school uniform you’re clad in; white collared shirt, grey pullover with the school emblem and matching grey trousers instead of a skirt. His hair is a light brown shade, that almost looks golden in the sunlight, a little wavy and his fringe is floppy, falling into his face as he bends down, inspecting a particular spot of the grass. He looks lonely, but maybe he prefers it that way. You don’t know.
”Who’s that?” you speak up for the first time in a long while and the girls look up at you.
”Who?” one of them asks, a girl with long, blond plaits.
”That boy over there,” you clarify, pointing at the boy, who’s begun strolling again, along the fence by the forest.
”Oh, that’s just Remus,” the girl replies; Julie, you think her name is.
You let out a soft hum, eyes still on the boy. You’ve never, ever heard of anyone called Remus.
”Is he in our year?” you ask, looking back at the girls.
”Yeah,” Diane speaks up, a brunette that you already can tell is the de-facto leader of the small group. ¨
She’s the one who invited you to sit with them, but you haven’t talked with her much more than that, so far.
So, Remus is just small then, you conclude. ”Why is he alone?”
”The other boys pick on him,” she explains, also looking out over the school yard now, as if she’s lost in her thoughts for a moment.
You feel vaguely guilty for disrupting their play and a ginger girl, whose name you can’t for the life of you remember, looks rather annoyed. But you’ve already started the conversation, so might as well pretend you don’t see her glare and go on.
”Why?”
”Because he’s really weird,” Diane responds like it’s obvious and a couple of the others snickers.
You frown at them, confused, and they stop.
”How come?” you ask, before you can stop yourself.
”Because… just because! He’s quiet and doesn’t like football or wrestling and sometimes he gets really angry and just goes into a screaming fit,” she goes on, giving you a weird look. ”Why do you even care?”
You lean back, and try to relax your furrowed eyebrows. ”Just curious.”
Diane looks skeptical, one of her thin eyebrows raised, but seems to let it go. ”All right, then.”
”So, what would you rather play?” Julie asks, steering the attention back to the games. Every minute that passes by means less time until the next lesson starts.
”Oh, it doesn’t matter,” you reply, flashing them a small smile.
”Okay, I was thinking that maybe we could—” Julie begins, turning her friends.
”Actually,” you begin, but then blush a little once you realise that you interrupted her. You had accidentally stopped listening again, eyes having drifted back to Remus once more. ”Sorry… I was just gonna say that you can go ahead and play without me, it’s alright.”
”What, where are you going?” Diane questions her dark eyes bright with confusion, almost looking like she’s going to reach out and stop you.
”I was just going to say hi to Remus,” you reply innocently, your eyes drifting between Diane and the girls and the boy. ”He looks lonely.”
”Don’t—” Diane begins but the ginger interrupts her.
”Let her go,” she says, looking directly at Diane, as if you aren’t there. ”It’s whatever.”
”Fine,” Diane replies, turning to you then. ”But you’ll regret it. We’ll be here, waiting.”
You try and barely manage to keep the frown off your face at that, feeling uncomfortable under their judging stares. You feel the urge to tell them that you're not going to regret it, but of course, you don’t know Remus yet. It’s just funny how they are dressed in skirts and bows and shined shoes and still manage to be threatening. Almost a little scary.
You end up nodding once, before whirling around, hair flicking and walking away, leaving them behind. Only a few metres away, you hear their conversation pick up again, right where they left off. Heading towards an unassuming Remus, your stride gets longer — as long your short legs can offer — and you lift your head a little, trying to look like you know what you’re doing. Fake it until you make it, as your dad always says.
You do, however, slow down when you see the clan of previously wrestling boys heading towards him too. Remus seems to see them rather than you, because he freezes for a moment and stares at them, before picking up his pace, hurrying along the fence. You watch warily how the situation escalates, but even as it’s just starting, you can tell that it’s not going to end too well for the small, floppy-haired boy, so you start walking faster again. The boys are much closer though, and you see them bend down and fill their hands with gravel from underneath the swings. A spark of dread twists your stomach as your brain puts together the pieces and you understand what is about to happen.
Judging by Remus's reaction it has happened before.
You start running. The boys snicker, taking their time, and Remus tries not to run, tries to act calm, but there’s fear on his face, even you can recognise it, from afar.
Since you’re the only one actually running, you catch up and before you know it you are skidding to a halt — almost slipping to your embarrassment, but considering the situation you forget about it quickly — in front of the boys. Confusion of various degrees spreads on their faces as they stare at you, about to launch the stone pebbles at Remus, but freezing mid-swing. Remus, a boy who you’ve never talked to, and might very well actually be weird and angry, but now you’re here, having followed your instinct and now your feet feel heavy as concrete, unable to move.
”What are you doing?” you question, before either of them have found their voice. ”That’s not nice.”
”What are you doing?” the boy in the front counters, blinking. ”Who are you, even?”
You open your mouth to answer, but another one in the back is quicker. ”She’s new.”
The one closest to you with ruffled dark hair and crooked teeth, squints his eyes at you. But he’s not as quick-witted as Diane and lets it go, opening his small hand and the stones clatter against the other, untouched ones as they fall to the ground. The air around you is filled with a smattering murmur as the rest of the group does the same.
They glare at you, as they one by one dramatically turn around and head the other way, reminding you vaguely of a flock of birds, or a fish shoal, always following each other around. You stand your ground and glare right back in return until they all disappear. By the end of it you almost laugh at yourself, because you’ve managed to get on over ten people’s bad side over half an hour, tops.
That must be a new personal record. This is going great.
”What did you do that for?” comes a low voice from behind you though, and you whirl around, the shadow of a soft smile on your face.
”They were going to be mean,” you begin, frowning a little when that didn’t seem like a good enough explanation to the boy, who continues to look confused, or maybe even suspicious.
”They always are,” Remus replies with a shrug, looking small and a little miserable, ”but thank you.”
”No problem,” you beam. ”So what are you doing?”
”Nothing really,” Remus shrugs again, staring at the grass underneath his feet. ”Keeping away from them I guess. They don’t let me play with them, so.”
”Well, we can be friends,” you reply, optimistically, trying to sound confident. As simple as that, or at least you hope.
Remus immediately looks up at you and his eyes look like gold in the sunlight.
”Are you sure?”
”Of course,” you smile.
”Why do you not trust them?” Remus questions, suddenly looking suspicious again. ”They must’ve told you about me.”
”It’s always best to decide for yourself,” you reply, trying to sound wise. Your mum had said something along those lines to you, once, and you had decided that you liked that.
A small smile hesitantly makes its way onto Remus’s face and you smile back, only bigger. ”I haven’t seen you before.”
”Nope,” you reply, popping the p. ”I moved here this summer.”
”Why would you do that?” Remus blurts, frowning and looking utterly confused.
You let out a laugh, surprised by his reaction. ”Well, I didn’t get to choose. My parents did. I dunno why, something about dad’s work.”
”Oh,” Remus murmurs before flashing you a crooked smile. ”What’s your name then?”
You reach out your hand immediately and formally introduce yourself — just the way your parents do — feeling dumb when you realise that he doesn’t know your name still, while you know his. It makes you feel like a complete weirdo. He shakes it and smiles.
”Nice to meet you,” he says then.
”Nice to meet you too.”