Life on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean was not as cool as I had anticipated. Appropriately coined, The Stratt Vat, it was cold, enclosed, and there was a lot of pressure. But, you wanna know what the worst part of all this was? Not the 16 hour workdays, not the impending doom of potentially going extinct, not the cramped living quarters, no. It was the unending and miserable boredom.

You see, humans can get used to just about anything. We don’t have enough expendable energy to have an active prolonged fear of something. This is why when you live in tragedy for long enough, it becomes part of the routine. Children still had to go to school during World War II (even with frequent bombs being dropped). And I still had to go to work (even with the threat of extinction or the carrier blowing sky high). 

So there I was, in the cafeteria, at 6:00am, drinking shitty coffee, and trying not to fall asleep on my laptop. I rubbed my temples as I stared at the calculations on screen. None of it made any sense but I couldn’t tell if that was because I was still half asleep, or because the data actually didn’t make any sense. I threw my head back with my hands over my face and groaned. 

“Tough morning?” A thick Russian accent appeared behind me. 

I whipped my head around to see Dimitri Komorov. A fellow scientist on board The Stratt Vat, and one I actually liked. Maybe it was weird for a woman who wasn’t even 30 yet to be so close with a middle aged Russian man, but whatever. We got along well and ended up in a lot of the same meetings. All of this also meant he was a great gossiping partner.

“How did you know? I thought I was being so subtle.” I replied sarcastically.

I gestured to the seat across from me as I spoke. Dimitri smiled and sat down without another word. In front of him he sat down a breakfast tray with a smorgasbord of items from the buffet, along with enough bacon to feed a great white. Oh and, we cannot forget the latte that had a decent chance of being spiked.  

Dimitri took a bite of his bacon before speaking up again. 

“You know that American scientist Stratt has studying Astrophage?” He asked. 

“The one who published the dissertation on the goldilocks zone being for idiots?” I responded, my attention going back to my laptop. 

“That’s the one. Apparently he’s made some, ‘breakthrough discovery.’ So, Stratt’s kidnapping him today.” He said.

My focus on the calculations in front of me was broken for just a second. Someone new, that Eva Stratt was recruiting personally? I almost couldn’t believe it. The Stratt Vat was packed enough as it was, so only the absolute best of the best came on board, let alone stayed. 

“Poor soul.” I said. 

Dimitri let out a hearty laugh. 

“Agreed. But this is good for the two of us, no?” He countered.

“How is this good for us? It just means less living space and more mouths to feed. I mean, it’s a good thing we’re making progress on figuring out Astrophage biology. But, don’t we already have a whole team for that on board?” I sighed. “I know I’m not in a place to be questioning Stratt’s judgement but, why bring on another hot-headed professor? Just set him up on land and have him phone-in his findings; I’m sure he can’t be that impressive.” I replied, my tiredness making me more negative than usual. 

“Well, he’s actually not a professor. He’s a middle-school teacher.” Said the Russian, in between bites of food. 

I finally looked up from my laptop. My jaw wasn’t completely on the floor but my mouth was definitely hanging open a little. I had a doctorate in astronomy with a minor in psychology. I was working for The University of Toronto’s astronomy department and had interned multiple times at NASA. All of that and I still had to fight tooth and nail to be here. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I scoffed. 

Dimitri shook his head before taking a sip of his latte. He set the paper cup down on the table and gave me a tired look. It was the kind of look that told me I needed to shut up immediately. 

“I know you have your grievances with Stratt, we all do. But you need to remind yourself that she’s the one in charge for a reason. I don’t know what’s got you acting so pissy and childish this morning, but you need to get over it.” He paused, taking a bite of his breakfast. “Now, this is good for us because he’s a potential friend. He’ll be in our circle, he’s obviously smart, and I know both of us need more people to connect with. Don’t ruin this before it starts.” 

I paused for just a second, hemming and hawing on whether or not to fight back. Ultimately, I knew Dimitri was right. I knew I was being pissy and that accepting a potential friend was probably the right thing to do. It just took me a minute to get there. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I replied quietly. 

It wasn't Draco's first time in space, but it was his first time in space on spaceshrooms.

Draco had been to the moon once before with his father. Although overrated, space travel was a sufficiently expensive excursion for Lucius to deem it an appropriate gift for Draco's tenth birthday. They'd dressed in their space robes and their Bubble-Head Charms and shot off to the moon clutching a Portkey made of a piece of Muggle rubbish that Draco now knew to be a credit card.

Draco had been once before with his father. Although overrated, space travel was a sufficiently expensive excursion for Lucius to deem it an appropriate gift for Draco's tenth birthday. They'd dressed in their space robes and their Bubble-Head Charms and shot off to the moon clutching a Portkey made of a piece of Muggle rubbish that Draco now knew to be a credit card.

Space was so dull. Dead as a Discman. The landscape was...something...but there were only so many rocks-destroyed-by-smaller-rocks to admire before Draco had seen them all. Plus, the Bubble-Head Charm was stuffy, and the Portkey ride nauseating; an altogether disgusting combination when coupled with Draco's already-weak stomach. So Draco was less than keen when Harry asked him if he wanted to go to space. His exact words were something like, "No fucking way" and "Only Muggleborns want to go to space”.

"I bought spaceshrooms," Harry said, accurately deducing that the main reason why Draco didn't want to go was because of the damned Bubble-Head Charm. Their last vacation to the Caribbean had been dazzling until the scuba diving disaster.

"Shut up." Draco threw his popsicle to the ground. "No, you did not."

"I did."

Spaceshrooms was the space equivalent of Gillyweed. Chew up a fist-sized wad, and your lungs could transform atomic oxygen into molecular oxygen out of thin air (or no air). The only thing more expensive than a Portkey to space was Spaceshrooms. Even Lucius couldn’t afford Spaceshrooms. Draco swallowed. Fuck, maybe Harry did love him.

"Fine," Draco huffed, giving in after Harry started biting his lower lip and blinking doe-eyes. Draco harrumphed again for effect, stomping on the cherry-flavoured popsicle mess because he could.

Nobody told Draco that Spaceshrooms got you high as fuck.

"Have you seen my hands?" Draco asked the three-headed Potter doing zero-gravity cartwheels overhead.

"We can play Quidditch without brooms," Harry yelled. He did another cartwheel, bounding further into the void. "I name it...Jumpditch."

"Did you even hear me?" Draco hollered back, but of course, Harry didn't because sound doesn't travel through space. Space tourism was a bit like a silent retreat except with a gift shop on the way out.

"I can jump to fucking Mars," Harry shouted.

Draco needed to get a leash on Harry before Harry rebounded back to Earth. Merlin, space was so fucking big. Big and infinite, and if Draco didn't get a grip on Harry, then he and his three bloody heads were going to disappear forever, leaving Draco on the moon by himself. If only his hands weren't so big, then they'd fit in his space robes where he slipped his wand, and—oh. Did his pockets expand?

"Legilimens," Draco muttered. He wiped his mouth (where did that drool come from?) then yelled, "ARE YOU HIGH?"

Harry cartwheeled over him. "YES! VERY. WHY?"

"JUST DOUBLE-CHECKING."

Harry bounded next to Draco. "ARE YOU HAVING FUN?"

"YOU CAN STOP SHOUTING."

"YOU FIRST."

"NO, I CAN'T."

"WHY NOT."

"MY HANDS ARE JUST SO BIG HOLY FUCK."

"NO THEY'RE NOT."

"YES THEY ARE. They're just SO big. And how am I ever going to go home? They won't even FIT on the PORTKEY, and then I’ll be stuck here FOREVER turning to dust with all this DEAD STUFF while my hands grow bigger and bigger AND BIGGER UNTIL they’re bigger than the MOON. Merlin, I HATE space. It's just so DEAD. I don't get how ANYONE can LIKE it, and MY HANDS—"

Harry grabbed Draco's hands and kissed the thumbs. "Don't make fun of them. They're my favourite."

Draco blinked. Harry's eyes were spinning green blobs. Draco thought maybe they were his favourite, too, even if they looked like the bottom of Neville Longbottom's cauldron. Everything about Harry was his favourite, really. And then Draco remembered Harry could hear his thoughts.

Remus stuck his tongue out, cheeky grin never fading as he pulled Roman into his lab. “Perhaps, but that’s irrelevant. For you see, dear brother, what I’ve been working on puts everything else in this institution to shame! The studies of bloodletting, of heating, even the studies of electricity! All of them are rubbish compared to what I’ve accomplished! Absolute garbage!” 

Roman arched a delicate brow. “Is this at all like the time you tried to power the summer house using garbage?”

“Nothing at all like it!” Remus laughed. “No no, this is something far more spectacular! Mostly due to the fact that this worked. You see brother mine-”

Remus came to a halt in front of the door, grabbing both of Roman’s wrists in his hands and looking him full in the face, manic grin against cool trepidation. He glanced momentarily to either side, as if ensuring that no one would overhear. 

“I’ve created life,” Remus whispered reverently, voice hushed and husky from what was no doubt mania and delusion. “The very spark of it. The thing the gods- if there are any- have kept from man from so long. And I’ve found it.”

“Wait you-” Roman shook his head. “You have a child?? Remus I hardly think-”

Remus pressed his hand firm against Roman’s mouth, giving him a good taste of the iron and chemicals that had been on it within the last week. 

He rolled his eyes irritably. “Not at all what I meant. I mean that I’ve made it. Literally. I have fashioned new life from old ones. Constructed it perfectly using only the finest parts.” 

“Parts?” Roman felt himself grow pale. 

Remus’ manic grin returned. “See for yourself. I’m rather proud of him.”

Roman gulped. His brother stepped aside, letting him push the door open and walk into the room. At first there seemed nothing amiss. It was sorely lacking in an open window, but it looked like any other lab, though granted- due to the nature of it being Remus’ lab it was much messier than the labs of their esteemed family members. However the only thing at all peculiar was the overly large lump of sheets on the table. 

And then the lump began to move.

It stood, up and up and up until it was towering three feet above Roman and peering down at him through horrible, horrific eyes.

“Good gracious,” Roman said, voice faint. “Remus Eli Frankenstien… What have you done?” 

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