1977 and we are going mad
It's 1977 and we've seen too many ads
1977 and we're gonna show them all
Apathy's a drag.
Monday 29th August 1977
Remus awoke from his second full moon slightly better off than his last, but unable to move. Moody had bound him to the bed (kept in the attic specifically for this purpose) using some kind of advanced magic. It didn’t hurt, but it was pretty humiliating, having to lie there and wait to be released, without any clothes on. Sirius had been vehemently against the idea, but it didn’t hurt, and it was better than the alternative. Remus didn’t care how the wolf felt about it.
“Made a lot of noise,” Moody said, as he released him, “But that’s to be expected.”
“What do the others do?” Remus asked, pulling on his jeans quickly, wishing Moody would leave, or at least turn his back, “The werewolves the ministry knows about?”
“Either deal with it at home like this - with an Auror checking in before and after - or report to the ministry holding cells. I’ll get you a leaflet, if you want.”
“No thanks.”
Remus had the distinct impression that Moody did not approve of Remus’s decision not to register himself.
Downstairs, in his normal bedroom, Mrs Potter had laid out a set of robes on the bed for him - not uniform robes, but normal, everyday ones. The sort that James and Sirius wore out of school. He hoped they were hand-me-downs; he didn’t know how he’d ever repay them if they started buying him clothes.
“They’re for going out in,” James explained, when Remus asked about it, “Diagon Alley today!”
With the first day of school not far off, it had been agreed that the boys would stay in Diagon Alley for the last few days of the summer holiday. Mr and Mrs Potter would be leaving for a few weeks - on business for Dumbledore, apparently, though they neither confirmed nor denied this. Even Moody could not argue with Remus going to Diagon Alley this time,
“Crawling with Aurors, these days - under cover, you wouldn’t even know it.”
“And I’m seventeen,” Remus said, curtly, “So I’m free to go where I please.”
“Quite,” Euphemia said, tiredly.
Their Hogwarts letters had arrived only a week ago, and to everyone’s surprise James had been named Head Boy, as evidenced by a brand new gold pin tucked inside his envelope.
“Bloody hell!” James gasped,
“What the fuck?!” Sirius frowned.
“Language!” Mrs Potter scolded them both.
She’d been very proud, of course, but James was only interested in telling Lily, and rushed to owl her at once - in less than half an hour, they learned that she had been made Head Girl.
“It’s fate!” James declared, “Destiny!”
They used Floo powder to get to The Leaky Cauldron, a homely, old fashioned wizard pub which doubled-up as a B&B, meeting place and general community centre, as far as Remus could tell. James had booked two twin rooms, and after being greeted by the odd looking, hunchbacked publican, the four marauders hauled their school trunks up the stairs to settle in. Remus was sharing with Peter, because neither Remus nor Sirius could come up with an excuse for sharing together. The rooms were adjoining, which was some small comfort, but not much.
