Madam Pomfrey was horrified by the state of Remus' skinny, battered frame when he finally went to see her.
"What has that woman been doing to you?!" She gasped, angrily.
"Oh no, I did all this myself," Remus gestured dryly at his bare chest. The nurse tutted, peeling
away another bandage.
"Yes, but she's barely done anything to treat you... I had no idea muggle medicine was so primitive! These are magical wounds, they need magical care!"
Remus nodded, tiredly. He'd grown used to the carnage now, the pain had settled on his shoulders like a heavy burden – one he thought he would probably just have to bear. Life was full of limitations, he simply had more than others. Perhaps that was why he was so drawn to James and Sirius.
Madam Pomfrey wanted to observe him over night, but he refused, grumpily. The full moon was two weeks away and he wanted to sleep in his own bed as much as possible.
He walked back to the common room slowly, though he was feeling better than he had in a month – Madam Pomfrey had given him a potion that made him feel loose and comfortable, and pleasantly light headed. There was no chance of a quiet afternoon, though, for when Remus reached the dormitory he found Sirius sitting on his bed, the record player and brand new albums spread around him.
"Lupin!" He beamed, excitedly, "You have to hear this!"
"Thank merlin you're here," James groaned from his own bed, where he was flipping through a quidditch magazine. "He's been banging on about that muggle singer all summer."
"He's not a muggle!" Sirius snapped, hands on his hips, "He has to be a wizard. Has to be! You should see the clothes he wears..."
Remus crossed the room and picked up the record sleeve. He smiled, mildly surprised,
"Oh, Bowie! Yeah, I like him. I don't think he's a wizard, though,"
Sirius looked mildly disappointed that Remus had heard of him, and Remus hurriedly explained, "I've heard Starman a lot, on the radio, but no one at St Eddy's has the album!"
Placated, Sirius settled the black disk he was holding onto the turntable and fixed the needle in place. James sighed deeply and got up, leaving the room, magazine under his arm. Sirius ignored him, watching Remus' face eagerly as the slow drumbeat began. Remus sat down on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes to listen.
Pushing through the market square So many mothers sighing
News had just come over
We had five years left of crying...
It wasn't the same as Electric Warrior; it was darker, moodier. Remus liked it a lot. There was a story in it, though he wasn't sure he understood all the parts yet. As the closing bars of Rock n Roll Suicide reverberated, Sirius lifted the needle and moved it back,
"Listen to Suffragette City again, that's my favourite!"
Remus smiled – he could have guessed that. It was loud and rude, and you could dance to it. This
mellow thigh'd chick's just put my spine outta place...
For himself, he thought he liked Moonage Daydream best, because it was weird and spacey. Or Lady Stardust, because for some reason it reminded him of Sirius. – his long black hair, his animal grace; the boy in the bright blue jeans... Remus quickly dismissed that thought, sure that Sirius would find it hysterically funny.
Once they'd played the album all the way through again, and then re-played their favourites, it was almost dinner time. They sat cross legged together on the bed, pouring over the album notes.
"Maybe he is a wizard," Remus conceded, dreamily, "He's not like a normal muggle."
"Told you!" Sirius smirked triumphantly, "I'm going to get more, too, all of his albums."
"T.Rex had a new one," Remus said, "Slider."
"Cool! I wish Mrs Potter had let us leave Diagon Alley, I even got some muggle money from Gringotts."
"What is Diagon Alley?" Remus asked, though he thought he had some idea from the summer letters.
Sirius' eyes widened, as they always did when Remus demonstrated his shocking lack of wizarding knowledge.
"Bloody hell, Lupin," he tutted, "It's a wizard street, in London. Muggles can't get in – like Hogsmeade."
"Oh, right." It didn't sound that exciting to Remus; shopping was boring. "Where do you get all of your stuff?!"
"What stuff?"
"School stuff – your books, your robes..." Sirius' eyes darted to the fraying cuffs of Remus' black school robes. His own were brand new, immaculately finished and cut slightly better than everyone else's.
"Second hand, I think," Remus replied, "Dumbledore sends them. Dunno how I'd get to a wizard street; I'm not allowed into London alone."
"Next summer." Sirius said, firmly, "You have to come to James' place and stay, we can take you to Diagon Alley, you'll love it."
"You know I can't," Remus said quietly, not making eye contact.
"We'll sort it." Sirius said, with confidence, "Talk to Dumbledore, McGonagall – the Minister for Magic, if we have to!"
Remus forced a smile, pretending that he believed Sirius, "Yeah, great. Thanks, Black."
***
The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars became the soundtrack to the Gryffindor boy's dormitory for the next week, until even James – who was tone deaf – found himself humming along.
Remus had never felt so satisfied and at ease in his entire life. He was away from St Edmund's, away from grey shirts and Matron and locked rooms and troubled boys who wanted to get him. He wasn't covered in bandages (at least for the moment), and until lessons began on Monday he had all the time he wanted to read, listen to music and muck about with the marauders.
He spent most of time catching up on his reading and completing the summer homework they'd been set. Like a starving man, he devoured every piece of information presented to him, and even went to get more books from the library to investigate further.
He also had to have a number of conversations with James before he could convince him that he had no desire to be on the Gryffindor quidditch team. Remus was content to sit in the stalls with his book, occasionally glancing up to watch the other three boys flitting back and forth on their brooms. They were all very good, but it was obvious even to Remus that James was the best of all three. He didn't even look like he needed the broom; the black haired boy soared like a kestrel, his turns smooth, his dives nauseatingly sharp. Remus hadn't attended many quidditch matches in his first year, but he felt sure that James would earn a place on the team.
Sirius was much showier in his flying technique – he didn't lack James' skill so much as his discipline. Black appeared to get bored easily, he could go quite fast when he wanted too, but was more interested in looping and swerving dangerously than catching quaffles or repelling bludgers. He needed James to shout at him every few minutes to keep focussed on the game. Peter was very competent after a summer of drills, but he was quite slow over long distances – James decided he might be better off as a keeper.
"You're acting as if you get to hand pick the whole team." Sirius huffed as they headed back to the castle after one practice.
"They ought to let me." James shrugged, as if it was obvious, "I'm better than at least half of the current team, and you're better than both beaters. And I know tactics."
"Just try not to be too shocked when they don't make you captain," Sirius rolled his eyes, "You're still a second year. There weren't any second years on the team at all last year."
"Have some faith, Black," James winked, throwing his arm over his friend's shoulder. They strode ahead together, brooms in hand. The sun was setting behind them and threw everything into sharp relief, outlining the two dark haired boys in heroic gold. Remus watched them, lagging behind and weighed down by his books, thinking that they would probably all be a little bit surprised if James didn't get exactly what he wanted.
