Metal Guru, could it be?
You’re gonna bring my baby to me
She’ll be wild, y’know a rock n roll child…
Remus gripped the handles of his battered old suitcase with white knuckles, his stomach turning excited somersaults as he watched the bustling crowds. Matron had let him run at the barrier this time, though she looked away at the last minute, terrified. Now she was far behind him, on the muggle side of the station, and he didn’t have to see her again for ten months.
He’d had a terrible nightmare the night before that they would arrive at King’s Cross and be unable to get through to platform 9 ¾ - none of it had been real; magic, wands, wizards, his friends. But Remus tried to push these thoughts from his mind as he gazed eagerly about himself, looking for a familiar face.
“Let you come back, did they?” A cold voice interrupted his search. “Standards must really be dropping.”
Remus felt his shoulders tense. Why did the first person he spoke to have to be Snape?!
“Get lost, Snivellus.” He spat. He squared up, turning to face the Slytherin boy with his meanest look.
“Ugh, what on earth is that smell?” Snape drawled, wrinkling his over-large nose. Remus coloured – he stank of antiseptic, he knew it; Matron had been much too liberal that morning.
“I said get lost!” Remus murmured, clenching his teeth and balling up his fists.
He saw Severus recoil, slightly. Remus knew how he looked – he’d had two months without magic, surrounded by bigger and tougher boys than Snape. He was wound as tight as a bear trap and ready to throw a punch at the smallest provocation.
“Oi, baldy!” Another voice sounded over the crowd. A boy with glasses and jet black hair sticking up at all angles was leaning out of one of the carriage windows, waving madly at Remus.
Remus smiled, forgetting that he was trying to frighten Severus, and waved back. He rubbed his head self-consciously. His hair had grown out while he was at Hogwarts, but Matron had shaved it all off as soon as he was back at St Edmund’s, making him look like a thug again.
Casting a filthy look at Snape, Remus clutched his suitcase and hurried onto the train, pushing past other students to reach the carriage where his friends were waiting.
“Lupin!” Peter jumped up, excited. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself once he was on his feet – they certainly weren’t going to hug like girls, and apparently handshakes weren’t in order. Pettigrew awkwardly patted his on the arm instead, and Remus gripped his in return.
“Hiya lads,” Remus smiled, his cheeks aching with happiness as he sat down. “How’s it been?”
“We should be asking you!”” James laughed, punching him in the arm. “Not one owl all summer!”
Remus glanced at Sirius, furtively. He hadn’t mentioned the letter Remus had sent him, then.
“You know I’m practically a muggle over the holidays,” he replied, “Couldn’t even get into my trunk to do homework; they locked it up.”
That wasn’t strictly true – Remus had asked Matron to lock away his school things, terrified the other boys would get to them. The homework he hadn’t done because he hadn’t been able to. There was a quiet noise of disgust from the corner. Remus looked up, frowning.
Sitting on the seat beside Sirius was another, younger boy, with the same deep blue eyes and long dark hair; the same unmistakeable Black features – full lips and cheekbones that could cut glass.
