Chapter Text
Remus Lupin
It was cold on the nine-and-three-quarters platform, Remus thought to himself.
Perhaps cold wasn't the right word. It was September, so crisp or frigid or chilly would probably be better- among other synonyms that Remus was far too crisp-frigid-chilly to remember.
The wind was whistling along the tracks of the train, making a hollow metallic sound. Remus pulled his sweater closer to himself and shivered.
Remus's mum noticed, because of course she did. "Are you cold, dear?" she asked, hurrying to undo her own scarf for him.
Remus shrugged. "Not really," he lied, because if he didn't lie then she wouldn't let him on the train till summertime. "Just tired."
That wasn't something he'd bother lying about, because Remus Lupin was always tired, and his parents knew it.
Remus's dad bravely concealed his worry and helped Remus wave off his mum's scarf. "He's fine, Hope," he assured, making Remus feel immensely grateful. Then: "The train leaves in five minutes, let him see kids his age." For which Remus was much less grateful.
Remus's mum's eyes started watering, and Remus widened his own amber eyes. "You're not going to start crying?" he half asked, half pleaded, tugging on his mum's arm. "I'm going to be fine, mum."
Remus's mum thankfully held back, looking down at him with a small smile and clearly stopping tears by sheer willpower. "You'll owl me if you want to go home," she ordered, tucking a stray lock of Remus's auburn hair out of his face.
"Yes, mum," Remus said, rolling his eyes subtly so she couldn't see.
"And you'll be sure to eat plenty before... these next few days," she added quickly, glancing around quickly like she'd just given away Remus's secret.
Remus had to force his smile at the mention of the 'next few days'. "Yes, mum."
"And you'll get some good sleep," she called as Remus's dad began gently pulling her away. "And owl us every weekend- unless you want to owl more! We'd love to hear from you-"
"Yes, mum," Remus laughed, waving at his parents as the train whistled warningly, signaling that he had a minute left. "I'll be fine, I promise!"
Remus's dad smiled at him one last time as he pulled Hope towards the brick wall leading to the muggle station. "I know you will," he said, quietly enough that only Remus's senses could pick it up.
Remus watched them disappear, his mum clearly fighting back tears, and forced himself to look away. "I'll be fine," he said again, less sure now.
He busied himself by looking around at the other children, some fighting off their parents and some not even bothering (mums were a force to be reckoned with). He saw a few people clutching pets like toads and owls in cages, and almost wished he had something to hold. But he was eleven years old, not a terrified five-year-old. Plus, Remus hated animals. He was one, after all.
Since looking at the children boarding the train only depressed him further, he started towards the train, wind brushing against his sweater like a warning. Telling him to go back.
But there was nothing back at home for him except for the books he'd read five times over, the plants that were his only friends... and his parents, who tried desperately to make him happy but couldn't because of one day in each month where everything went dreadfully wrong. There was nothing at home for him and everything at Hogwarts, if he could just step onto the train.
He couldn't step onto the train.
The train was whistling again, and children were pushing past him to rush on, and Remus was hesitating, hand on the rail and foot on the first step. He couldn't push himself forwards just that much. It was warm on the train, but somehow he'd rather be cold than take that step.
Someone fixed that for him.
"Budge over, wanker!" said a gruff voice, pulsing all-too-loud right in his ear. Remus flinched and didn't have time to react before a rough hand landed on his back, shoving him forwards. "Some of us want on before we have to walk."
Remus stumbled up the steps and fell hard on the metal floor of the train. Blinking blearily, he felt anger pushing at the edges of his mind as he looked for the person who'd shoved him. It was a boy of about sixteen, looming over him with all of the authority of a bloke who'd hit puberty and wouldn't let anyone forget it. He had blond, crewcut hair and piercing blue eyes that felt like freezing water rushing over Remus's robes, and a Slytherin badge- of course. At his side was a kid his age, shorter than Remus with messier blond hair and more frightened blue eyes.
The kid next to puberty-bloke mouthed 'sorry' to Remus, but it didn't slow the anger pulsing in Remus's veins. Remus carefully pulled himself up, dusting off his sweater and picking up his trunk. It was laden with things that his mum had packed for him, and weighed at least twice as much as him.
"That was really rude," Remus sniffled to the sixteen-year-old, forcing tears to well up in his eyes.
The sixteen-year-old laughed, and the kid next to him flinched. "That's what you get when you're in the way, wanker."
"You're not gonna say sorry?" Remus whimpered, clutching his trunk in two fists.
He laughed and stepped away from the kid, and Remus internally thanked him. "What does it look like, git? Are you going to cry about it?"
"I tried," Remus whispered to himself, feeling anger take over as he hurled his bag up and smacked it into the sixteen-year-old's face.
He barely had time to hear the sickening crack before Remus was up and running, sprinting down the cramped corridor and weaving through students to disguise himself.
That was really stupid, Remus chided himself, but he still couldn't stop the laugh that fell from his lips as he searched for an empty corridor. Trunk-hurler isn't a good reputation to have as an eleven-year-old.
But the Slytherin bloke had had it coming to him, so Remus wasn't going to feel too apologetic. Plus, that had been a pretty gracefully hurled trunk.
Maybe he was going to be fine after all.
Peter Pettigrew
Peter was in no way fine. In fact, he was about to throw up.
"That was awful, Esteban!" he whispered, clinging to his older cousin's arm.
Esteban just hissed and shook Peter's arm off his robe sleeve, reaching up to prod at the bruise mark forming on his face. "I'm gonna beat the shit outta that kid," he growled.
Peter thought that was rather stupid, considering Esteban had pushed the boy over first. But who was Peter to talk about stupid, anyway?
Instead he tugged at his own sleeves anxiously and asked, "Do you want me to fetch Madame Pomphrey?"
"I don't need help," Esteban muttered, rummaging through his bag and pulling out his wand. He tapped it against his cheek and the bruise healed within seconds, leaving Peter gawking shamelessly.
Esteban saw Peter's shocked face and smirked a little bit, a smirk Peter had gotten used to seeing on his cousin's face ever since he'd been sorted into Slytherin. "It's fine, Pete," he drawled, reaching out to ruffle Peter's hair. "If you want to be in Slytherin, you need to learn how to take a hit."
That sounded like something Peter in no way wanted to do. His mum was a big advocate of him ending up in either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff; not ever Slytherin. (She wasn't hopeful enough to think he'd ever wind up in Ravenclaw.) The Pettigrew family hated Slytherins with a passion, and Esteban Pettigrew was one of exactly three who'd ever been in Slytherin. Peter wasn't interested in becoming a family outcast just to share a common room with his older cousin.
But with Esteban giving him that look, all he could do was grimace and stutter, "I'll t-try."
"I'll t-ttt-tttttt-ryy," Esteban mocked, scrunching up his newly healed face. "What does that even mean? I never said you look to get punched, nutter."
Peter's heart was pounding rather fast. He hated when he said the wrong thing. Everyone always had the same reaction- whether verbally or mentally. The reaction of 'what an idiot'. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, staring at his feet.
"Merlin's pants," Esteban exclaimed, taking a seat on their compartment's bench and putting his feet up so Peter couldn't sit next to him. "You're going to be a Hufflepuff. I'm never speaking to you again."
"Please don't do that," Peter blurted, sitting on the opposite side of him. "I don't have anyone in Hogwarts that I know and-and I won't be able to make any friends without your help and I'll be lonely and-"
"Shut up!" Esteban groaned, rubbing his fingers to his temples like he had a headache. Peter found he was very good at giving people headaches unintentionally. "Total Hufflepuff."
Peter slunk down in his seat. At least Esteban had forgotten momentarily about beating that boy up. Peter wished he'd had the courage to go after the kid instead of staying with Esteban, but it was too late to change anything now. He was stuck in a carriage with his older cousin, who was only looking after him because Peter's mum had spoken to Esteban for the first time in months to shove Peter into him and instruct, "Make sure my Petey doesn't get trampled his first day at Hogwarts.".
Their compartment door slid open, and Esteban opened one eye. He smiled exuberantly when a few girls his age flounced in, one with black curly hair and one with sleek silvery hair. They were also already in their Slytherin robes. Peter wondered if he should also go change, then remembered he didn't have Slytherin robes because he wasn't in a house yet and felt very very stupid.
"Bellatrix!" Esteban called flamboyantly, swinging his legs off the side of the bench to make room for the curly-haired girl. "Long time, no-"
"Still dating Rodolphus," she half-sang, sitting close to Peter instead as the other girl filed in.
"Bugger," Esteban sighed, dropping his smile. "What kind of name is that, anyways? Rodolphus."
"Who's this?" the silver-haired girl asked by way of greeting, slinging her hair over her shoulder and glaring at Peter with angry grey eyes.
"Narcissa, meet Peter," Esteban sighed again, looking more and more put-out by the minute. "He's a brat, but he barely talks. Isn't that right, cousin?"
"Uhm," Peter stuttered.
Bellatrix nodded. "Fine. We have a brat of our own, but we lost him on the way to the compartments."
"Mother's going to be furious," Narcissa added, sitting daintily next to Esteban and checking her nails. "'Look after Sirius', she told us."
"'Make sure he doesn't get with the wrong sort,'" Bellatrix added, making air-quotes as she rolled her mascara-laden eyes.
"'Especially not that Potter kid, he's trouble'," Narcissa finished, pulling her robes up and crossing her legs.
"Next thing we know, we're not looking after him," Bellatrix started.
"He's with the 'wrong sort'," Narcissa groaned.
"The Potter kid, of course," Bellatrix said, sniffing in disdain. "With our luck, who else would it be?"
"And you didn't go after him?" Esteban asked curiously. Peter looked out the window and pretended he wasn't eavesdropping.
"He's not worth the time," Bellatrix said disgustedly. "We already know he's going to turn out wrong. He's probably going to end up in Hufflepuff, and mother'll have our heads."
Esteban pointed to Peter, beaming. "This one'll end up there, too. I suppose I'll be the only Pettigrew bent out of sorts about it."
"Because you're the only Pettigrew that has proper values," Narcissa interjected instantly. Peter's face turned bright red and he stared intently at the fields of Scotland passing by.
"Damn right," Esteban chortled, leaning over and slugging Peter on the shoulder like he wasn't talking bad about Peter's entire family.
Peter looked at the passing trees and very, very much wanted to go home.
Sirius Black
"I think we lost them," Sirius whispered in James's ear.
James jumped and nearly hit the train's ceiling. "Don't do that," he whispered, laugh in his voice as he shoved Sirius in the dark crawl space, his bright yellow 'muggle' poncho being the only source of light. "And remind me why we're running from your cousins again?"
Sirius, in favor of ticking James off, leaned closer to his ear and hissed, "Because they're demonsssss."
James collapsed into a fit of giggles, and Sirius cackled as softly as he could in the darkness. "Merlin, Sirius," James laughed, and Sirius saw him putting his hands over his ears. "Your breath is terrible."
"So is that ponchoooo," Sirius hissed.
James started wheezing. "My mum says it's muggle fashion!"
Sirius had just met James a few minutes ago, when he'd been running away from his cousins. He'd run into James, and James's murderous owl Richard had almost bit Sirius's hair off. Sirius rather loved his long hair- it was the sign of his stubbornness against his posh, proper family- and was inclined to hate James after that encounter. But then Bella and Cissy had come after him again, and the only thing he could do was grab James's arm and order, "Get this bloody thing off me, I'm about to die."
Five minutes later, they were in the luggage compartment on top of a train compartment. Best friends.
"How do we get out of here?" Sirius asked when they finally stopped laughing.
James snorted. "I thought you knew."
"James. Did we just lock ourselves in a luggage compartment?"
James beamed stupidly in the darkness. "Quite possibly."
"Merlin," Sirius sighed, biting back a smile because they were in a luggage compartment and it wasn't the time for jokes. James Potter didn't seem to care, judging by his idiotic grin as he began grappling with the locked door.
"Right," Sirius said, looking through his pockets. "You have your wand with you?"
James rolled his eyes. "No, I left it with Richard so he could eat it. Yes."
"Prat," Sirius said, hitting James lightly on the head. James snickered and pulled out his wand. "Right, do you know Alohamora?"
James ran a hand through his hair confidently and pointed at the door with his wand. "No," he said surely before repeating, "Aloha-ora!"
Sirius burst into a fit of giggles as sparks shot out of James's wand and nearly hit them both in the face. James cursed and shifted so he was hunched over leaning on a suitcase and sat on his wand to extinguish the flames. Sirius thought he was going to die laughing.
"I really thought that would work," James pouted, pushing his glasses up and pulling his wand back out, newly extinguished.
"Gimme that," Sirius said, grabbing for James's wand.
James instinctively pulled it away from Sirius. "No!" he said, laughing. "You'll just mess it up worse!"
"Obviously!" Sirius gasped, clutching his hand to his heart in mock horror. "The Black family line has-" he lunged for James's wand and almost impaled them both- "A noble heritage of messing things up worse! Stop denying me of my legacy and give me the wand!"
James rocked out of Sirius's reach with his wand, leaning against the door of the compartment and retorting, "Well the Potter family has a noble heritage of being stubborn, so you're getting this wand over my dead body-"
The luggage door slid open from the outside, and James fell six feet to the floor and disappeared from sight with an "ARGH!".
Sirius widened his eyes. I killed him, he thought to himself, clambering over to the edge of the luggage compartment. My first friend and I killed him. And I didn't even get his wand.
The first thing he saw when he peered over the luggage compartment were wide, bright green eyes and bright red hair. The first thing he heard was a girly shriek and a thump.
James's voice called, "Oi, lady! Don't step on the fallen wizard!"
Sirius leaned over to try and see where James was, and promptly fell out of the luggage compartment. Another girly shriek came from the green-eyed red-haired girl, and Sirius collapsed right next to James, who was still tightly clutching his wand.
James pointed his wand lazily at Sirius and grinned. "I am never following you again."
Sirius rolled his eyes. "You don't mean it."
The girly-shrieker very rudely interrupted. "Why were you in the luggage compartment?" she asked, her shrill voice taking a slight Scottish accent out of anger.
James sat up, Sirius quickly following. Sirius looked up and saw the girl staring down at them with horror, like they were escaped zoo animals. Sirius thought she reminded him a bit of his family members when he showed up with the wrong colour tie on- disgusted and offended beyond belief. "Wouldn't you like to know," he said snottily.
James nudged Sirius's arm, grinning. "He's a git," he said matter-of-factly to the girl.
The girl took a weary step back from them, towards the door of the compartment.
A boy stepped in, nonplussed by James and Sirius sitting on the floor. He had the greasiest hair Sirius had ever seen in his life. "Evans," he whinged with a dainty British accent. "I thought we were going to sit in the Slytherin compartment. I wanted to introduce you."
James and Sirius looked at each other. James covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing. Sirius pointed to his hair and mouthed 'has he ever showered?'.
The girl pointed shakily at them. "I was just going to get my things, Severus," she narrated dramatically, "But these two popped out of the compartment!"
James ran a hand through his hair and beamed pleasantly. "Hullo."
"Your name is Severus?" Sirius asked at the same time.
Severus sniffed, literally turning up his nose at the two so Sirius had a good view up his nostrils. Sirius and James looked at each other and gagged. "Severus Snape," he said airily. "What's it to you? And what on Earth are you wearing?"
James pointed defensively to his own ugly yellow poncho. "My mum said it was the muggle fashion," he defended.
"Crickey," Sirius said in amazement, turning to James and tugging on his arm. "Severus's name is worse than mine!"
James widened his eyes and clutched Sirius's arm back, shaking it. "Miracles do happen!"
Severus sniffed again- Sirius wondered if he kept turning up his nose at them because he had a cold, because Merlin he was sniffing a lot- and grabbed the red-head's hand. "Come on, Lily," he said snappishly. "Let's go find another compartment."
Richard the owl hooted from his spot on a seat behind Lily. Lily jumped away and shook her head in disgust. "Really."
"You're still making noise, huh?" James said bleakly to Richard. "Ugh."
Sirius cringed, because it most definitely looked like James had just said that to Lily. "He was talking to the bird," Sirius said helpfully, when Lily looked like she'd been smacked. "Cheer up, Lily Evans. You have a better name than Severus."
James snorted. "Kinda sounds like Snivillous."
Sirius's eyes lit up, because finally someone had a worse name than his. "That's perfect!"
Lily Evans turned her nose up at the boys. "Either you get out, or we get out," she said in a know-it-all tone, putting her hands on her hips.
James looked at Sirius and raised his eyebrows.
"This compartment's boring," Sirius decided, standing up and offering James a hand (least he could do, considering he let James fall out of the luggage a few minutes ago). "Let's leave them to their matureness."
"Do you really think of that as an insult?" Lily asked offendedly, letting go of Severus's hand.
"It's true," James admitted, getting up and grabbing his trunk. Sirius begrudgingly grabbed his own trunk- it was packed with at least fifty things his mother considered Black Family Heirlooms- and they started to leave.
"You forgot your owl!" Lily called after them.
James stopped at the doorway and made a face. "That was intentional," he grumbled, turning around to carefully pick up the murderous Richard. "See ya, Evans!"
James Potter
"We can't go in this one," Sirius said, poking his head back out of a compartment door and seeming scared.
James rolled his eyes. They'd tried almost fifteen compartments now, and all of them had either been full or unwilling to house them. James doubted his poncho was helping any. He silently cursed his mum's muggle magazines for making her think this was the latest fashion.
"And why not?" he responded impatiently, trying to crane his neck around Sirius to see inside.
Sirius pushed him back by the shoulder, face gaunt. "There's a dead guy in there," he hissed.
James blinked. "A dead guy?"
"A dead guy," Sirius confirmed.
James weighed his options. On the one hand, dead guys didn't seem very pleasant to be in a compartment with. On the other hand, they'd already tried a lot of compartments...
"Are you absolutely sure it's a dead guy?" James stalled, pushing Sirius out of the doorframe.
Sirius yelped and jumped away from the door as James poked his head in to see the 'dead guy'. He was expecting a ghost or something- his mum had told him there were a lot of those at Hogwarts, so he figured one riding the train wouldn't be so far-fetched- but instead he saw a deathly pale eleven-year-old, slumped over in a very uncomfortable position on the bench, eyes sunken and closed and mouth hanging open.
James turned around and punched Sirius in the shoulder. "He's not dead, you idiot! He's sleeping!"
Sirius punched James back and rubbed at his shoulder. "He looks so pale that I didn't notice," he defended stiffly. "Look at him. Looks like a corpse."
James had to concede that the guy did look a bit deadish. Still, they were desperate. He maneuvered his way into the small compartment and quietly took a seat on the other side of the dead guy, careful not to wake him.
Sirius had no such qualms. Now that he was quite sure the boy wasn't dead, he leapt into the compartment, threw his bags to the floor with a clatter, and leaned over to tap the boy's shoulder. "Wakey wakey!" He sang, watching as the boy's eyes flew open and his hand flew to clutch his heart like he'd been stunned. "Budge over, I'm sitting here."
The boy looked absolutely terrified. James didn't quite blame him, considering Sirius had no tact whatsoever. He waved at the bloke and said a small, "Hey. How's it going?"
Managing a shrug, the boy clearly tried to compose himself and clearly failed as well, when Sirius sat right next to him and stretched his feet across to the other bench, directly onto James's lap. James rolled his eyes and threatened, "I will have Richard peck your feet to death, Sirius," and Richard gave a menacing hoot from his spot next to James. "And leave, uhm-" James turned to the boy. "What's your name?"
The boy seemed to be shrinking into himself the more people spoke to him. James wondered if it was a talent or a spell or something, because it certainly was consistent. "Remus Lupin," he whispered.
"Merlin, you people have weird names," James said offhandedly. "I'm James, and the one with no tact is Sirius Black. Sirius, leave Remus alone."
"I don't know what tact means, so I'm taking it as a compliment," Sirius said immediately, ignoring James's comment about Remus.
Remus looked like he was trying horribly to smile and not really getting there. "It means you don't have any appreciation for other's thoughts or worries," he said, almost as though he was reciting right from a dictionary. "It's a lack of empathy or strategy when approaching people or completing a task."
James felt his mouth fall open.
Sirius seemed completely unbothered. He took his feet off James's lap and said, "Yeah, sounds like a compliment. Beautiful meet you, Remus."
Remus shrunk into himself again. James thought that was a pretty cool party trick. "That's not the right usage of that word," he said softly.
Sirius scrunched up his face. "You're not the right usage of that word."
Remus looked utterly confused. James forced himself not to laugh and explained, "Sirius is also immature."
"I've been told that by one Lily Evans and about five of my family members," Sirius explained, leaning his back against Remus's side like he'd known him all their lives.
James thought Remus was going to die. He could tell the poor guy was terrified of touch, although he didn't know why. Whatever the reason, Sirius was clearly making him uncomfortable. James shot a reassuring look at Remus and fumbled for a conversation topic that wouldn't scare him off.
He finally settled on, "So, you like words. Tell us about that."
Sirius burst out laughing. "'So, you like words,'" he mocked. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"Guess you've never heard yourself talk, then," James countered.
Sirius wheezed. "That was uncalled for."
"You're uncalled for," Remus said offhandedly.
Silence. James raised his eyebrows at Sirius like he's sarcastic. Sirius's mouth fell open in a big smile like HE'S SCARCASTIC!
"Can we keep him?" he asked, directly to James.
Before James could chide Sirius on how claiming humans as your own was frowned upon in society, Remus actually laughed- a small, almost imperceptible laugh. "I should think not," he remarked. "I have my rights."
James nodded, mostly to himself. "Yeah, we can keep him."
"Do I not get a say in this?" Remus asked, putting his hands on his hips like an agitated schoolteacher.
"Absolutely not," Sirius established, slinging an easy arm around Remus's shoulders and completely ignoring his wince. What it must be like to be Sirius Black.
The train rolled past Scotland into Hogwarts territory, and Remus leaned away from Sirius and closer to the window. "Wow," he breathed, his breath fogging the glass.
Sirius scoffed. "Princess," he said, seemingly for no reason whatsoever.
James snickered as Remus turned around to glare at Sirius. "Excuse me?"
Sirius shrugged, completely unbothered. "You're posh, you say big words, and you love castles."
"I'm a male," Remus emphasized.
"Yeah, but I wanted to tick you off," Sirius said gleefully.
Remus groaned. "Is it too late to get unkept?"
"Yep!" James said, beaming stupidly at Remus. "You're one of us now."