#lvpinremvs

@lvpinremvs​

It was the first official day of a new term and after only a handful of years her herself she liked to think it was all rather simple to her now. This year, though, was already proving to be something of a special one; she’d never questioned Albus’ decisions in the past and to her mind it was brave of both he to invite a young affected boy to the school and even more so that the boy agreed to come. She thought, with some pride, that it was no doubt he’d been sorted into her house. Now came the time to ensure he was perfectly aware of his position. 

She’d sent an owl to the breakfast table that morning asking young Mr. Lupin to come and see her once he’d finished eating and she’d scarcely sat in her chair when a small knock sounded upon her door. “Come in.” she said briskly, watching as the boy entered her office, “Have a seat Mr. Lupin.” Minerva gestured to the chair opposite her desk, “As you’re within my house now I thought it best you and I have a wee chat regarding some matters.”

When: September 1971 Where: Hogwarts Express With: Remus @lvpinremvs 

Peter had never wished harder that he was invisible. 

Bad enough his Father hadn’t said anything about magic (he was still working very hard to digest that fact) but now he wasn’t going to the small local school down the road in his small hometown but instead had been dragged wide-eyed through London in baggy robes (that he still thought were a little too much like dresses) and bundled onto a train without so much as a goodbye before his father took off, not even waiting till the train left. 

He’d toed off his shoes, they weren’t all that comfy, and tucked his legs under him, all but hidden as a pile of clothing in the smallest carriage at the back of the train and hoped no-one would come down this far. The train had only been going for a little while and he’d busied himself looking out the window when the door opened and he jumped, looking over wide-eyed at another boy who... Holy heck... those scars were scary... He couldn’t help but stare for a few moments before looking at the floor instead. Would he want him to leave? Kick him out? He’d go without a fight. 

The kettle clicked off and Peter poured boiling water into two mugs, careful not to spill any on his bare arms. Misleading as it was, he was taking the opportunity to wear short sleeves and show he had nothing to hide; other Order members couldn’t know even Dark Marks had faded in this mad time. While everyone else was scrambling, Peter couldn’t recall a time in ages he’d felt so peaceful. The Death Eaters were so desperate to fix the current situation he’d been all but forgotten. 

Remus had come around to check on him again and it wasn’t until he registered the other looking at him in surprised that Peter realised he’d not stuttered once in greeting him. In fact, he’d not stuttered at all since their magic had vanished. Now he was making them some toast and tea, bringing the latter to the table while the former was cooking. “I can’t think when this will be fixed, or how.” he said quietly, “Does it make me a bad person for not exactly minding it?” After all, he’d been raised muggle, the world was no stranger to him. And no magic meant, for however long this lasted, no war.