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Orion and Walburga were quite pleased to be rid of Sirius - nearly as pleased as he was to be rid of them and Regulus and the hideous Kreacher. They delivered Sirius unceremoniously on the corner at King’s Cross and had left before he’d even gotten his trunk onto the trolley to go in to Platform 9¾. He huffed indignantly as he struggled with the heavy trunk, with no luck at heaving it up. Suddenly, the trunk moved quite easily and he looked up to see James Potter at the other end of it.

“Heya, Black,” James greeted him with a grin. Behind him, Sirius could see James’s parents loading his own trunk onto another trolley, with Bubo in his cage, balanced precariously atop of the trunk. He looked Sirius over, “Blimey, mate, what are you wearing?”

Sirius had spent the last month of summer collecting articles of Muggle clothes each time he was able to sneak out of the house. He’d assembled quite the motley collection of outfits. Ripped jeans, which he safety pinned-shut again, old t-shirts advertising bands he’d never really heard of, and a leather jacket that he liked a rather lot and wore frequently. He grinned. “Isn’t it wonderful? Muggle fashion. They call it punk rock,” he informed James. “It’s very rebellious.”

“You look like you fell down and skinned yourself,” James said, pointing at the hole at Sirius’s knee.

“No, no, they’re cut that way on purpose,” Sirius explained, “It’s cool.”

“If you say so,” James replied, shrugging.

“All the muggles are wearing them,” Sirius answered.

Dora came over, followed by Charlus with the trolley. “Is this your friend?” Dora asked, smiling.

“Mum, this is Sirius Black,” James said.

“Hello Sirius,” said Dora, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Tons!” Added Charlus, smiling. “Good to meet you.” He held out a hand and shook Sirius’s.

Sirius smiled, “Nice to meet you, too, sir… ma’m.”

Charlus led the way through the station, while Dora tried desperately to flatten down James’s hair as they walked, her hands smeared with potion. “Stop it, mother,” James complained, batting Dora away. “You’ve put enough of that in my hair.”

“What is that?” Sirius asked, turning his nose up at the smell of it as they walked.

“That, my boy,” said Charlus, stopping at the barrier to the platform and turning to look over at Sirius, “Is Sleekeazy Potion.”

“Oh bloody hell,” whispered James, eyes rolled heavenward. Sirius got the impression James had heard this a time or two.

“Sleekeazy Potion is a very special mixture I’ve invented at work in the Magically Useful or Helpful Pattens Office at the Ministry,” Charlus said, “It’s used to sleeken unruly hair - if used correctly and regularly,” he added as James ran his fingers through his hair, purposely messing it up again. “It’s based on this brilliant muggle concoction called petroleum jelly. Do you know what that is, Sirius?”

“No sir.”

“Charlus Fleamont Woodrow Potter,” snapped Dora, full-naming her husband as she might have her son, “For Heaven’s sake the boy doesn’t need a chemistry lesson. Let’s go before they miss the train!” She pushed James forward, “You first, dear.”

James ran forward through and onto Platform 9 ¾ quickly, soon followed by Dora.

Charlus turned to Sirius. “There’s some other ingredients, including gomas barbadensis, but the real kicker that does the trick is the asian dragon hair.” Charlus grinned. “Working on getting it mass produced. There’s some that think the dragon hair might harm the dragons in the collectin’ of it, but the asian dragons, they moult, you see. So the hair’s just harvested off the Tibetan mountains is all. No harm done, and just a couple drops and poof! Sleek, nice looking hair - tamed from it’s unruly ways. Sleekeazy Potion… TM..” He smiled and gestured toward the barrier, “After you.”

“Thanks,” answered Sirius and he pushed his way through the barrier, wondering what exactly a moulting dragon looked like anyway.

When they’d loaded their trunks and James had said his arduous goodbye to his mum and dad, they boarded the train, “Sorry about that, my dad really gets into his work,” said James as they walked down the train toward the compartment they’d agreed to meet the others in at the end of last term. “Once you get him going on that bloody potion there’s no stopping him. I hate the way it smells and I look rather a prat with that mess in my hair.”

“It sounds like a pretty cool idea,” Sirius answered.

James shrugged. “Don’t tell him that or else he’ll never let you hear the end of it. Ever.”

They pushed opened the doors to the compartment and there, huddled up in the corner, and staring out the window, was Remus Lupin.

James and Sirius exchanged glances, their joyful attitudes quickly melting away. They walked in and settled down on the bench opposite Remus, who continued to stare out the window without so much as glancing their way. James looked out and spotted Peter across the platform, getting his cheeks pinched by his mum and a platter of cookies shoved in his hands. Remus was gnawing his lower lip anxiously, Sirius noticed, and he was quite pale to boot. He looked at James, and James looked back and shrugged, neither boy sure what to say.

Remus looked over at them as Peter disengaged from his mother on the platform and ran onto the train and out of their site. He looked over Sirius. “What in hell are you wearing?” He asked, his voice rather thick.

“It’s called ‘punk rock’,” James said before Sirius could answer, “And it’s cool.” He pointed at Sirius’s knee. “That’s on purpose. He didn’t fall down, so you know.”

Remus looked a little bewildered.

The door opened and Peter came in with his cookies, his cheeks all red from the pinching and the running. He’d gained a considerable amount of weight since they’d last seen him, his face fuller and his belly rounder. James felt reminded of a pot-bellied pig. All he was missing was the curly tail.

“Hey guys,” he greeted them eagerly. “I’ve brought cookies. My mum baked them. She makes the best cookies.” He held up the plate, “Anyone want some?” He’d already pushed open the cellophane wrapping and taken a handful of them out, stuffing one into his mouth as he asked so that crumbs flew everywhere by the time he got to the last words of the sentence.

James glared at him pointedly and nodded at Sirius. It didn’t seem that chatting about people’s mums baking things was a very good topic.

Peter looked at Remus, then back to James, then to Remus and held the plate up under Remus’s nose. “You want one, Rey?” He asked.

James smacked his hand to his forehead.

Remus shook his head, “Thanks Peter, but no,” he replied.

“Alright,” Peter said. He looked at James with a questioning glare, then settled down next to Remus, stuffing another cookie in his great porky mouth and balancing the platter on his knee.

Remus looked positively awful. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair a mess - Sirius thought he could benefit from some of Mr. Potter’s Sleekeazy Potion™, but he didn’t say anything about it. His hair was a bit thinner, too, and he had several hot pink spots on his forearm where he must’ve bitten himself once again. Sirius frowned. “Are you alright, mate?” He asked.

Remus took a deep breath, “I’m fine,” he answered. Looking ‘round, he saw James and Sirius both looking at him with knowing eyes - eyes he’d become quite used to seeing. Pity and charity lurked behind the iris. Peter was too busy eating to have a similar expression, he just set about his job of chewing up the cookies like a bottomless pit.

Remus turned back to the window, not wanting to face their expressions, knowing if they kept looking at him like that, he might cry and that would be a horrible way to start their second year at Hogwarts - crying like a blithering idiot on the Express. But he couldn’t help but feel sad, especially when he spotted Lyall on the platform, alone, looking dolefully up at the scarlet engine that would carry away the remainder of his family… Loneliness was a suffering he understood and empathized with only too well.

Remus looked down at his wrist and the gold and maroon braided friendship bracelet Lily Evans had sent to him with her letter, and he ran his fingers over the artistic knots and took a deep breath.

Peter let out a belch.

As though it were a cue, the engine shuddered to life and the train started to move forward, the platform slipping away. “Goodbye King’s Cross,” said Sirius.

James waved his fingers up in a peace sign, sinking onto the bench laying down, his feet up on Sirius’s lap as he pulled the hood of the sweatshirt he was wearing up over his head. “‘Til holidays, then, London,” he added.

Peter had finished the cookies already - the whole plate - by the time the steam engine had really got itself up to speed and the muggle houses that lined the tracks were zooming past. None of the boys had said much of anything, an awkward silence dominated the compartment. Peter held the empty plate in his hands while James laid awake but with his eyes closed and Sirius stared at Remus with an expectant look, as though he thought at any moment he might go mad.

Finally, unable to take anymore of the staring, Remus stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he told them, heading for the doors.

“Where’re you going?” Asked James, sitting up.

Remus didn’t answer, slipping out of the compartment and closing the door behind him. He glanced each way up and down the long train and started making his way down to the left, glancing in compartment windows. It took some time before he spotted Lily’s ginger hair in a compartment with Alice Bell, Frank Longbottom, and some other people he didn’t really know so well. He pushed open the door and poked his head in, “Hullo,” he said, looking ‘round at them all. “Hi Alice… Frank…”

“Hiya, Remus,” said Frank. But there in his eyes was the same apologetic looks that Remus had just walked the length of the train to get away from. “How’re you doin’?”

“I’ll get on,” he replied, then turned to Lily, the only person in the compartment not looking at him like he was delicate. “Can I have a talk with you?” He asked.

Lily nodded. “I’ll be right back,” she told them and followed Remus out into the hall. They walked along, trying to find an empty compartment, but there weren’t any, so finally they ducked into one that was mostly empty - inside sat one lonely Ravenclaw, a boy with pale white-blonde hair and unsettlingly large eyes names Xenophilius Lovegood. “Hello Xeno,” said Lily when they stepped in.

Xeno looked nervously up at them. “Careful you don’t let all those wrackspurts in,” he muttered, “This train is loaded with them. I had to spray for them.” The room smelled thick of air freshener of some sort. Lily’s nose curled up. She didn’t know what wrackspurts were but certainly they were better than the thick, aerosol-filled air was… but Xeno looked very adamant about it.

“We won’t let any… rustpooties in,” said Remus, not catching the word Xeno had said quite right.

Wrackspurts,” Xeno repeated pointedly.

“Them either,” said Remus. He turned to look at Lily, “I just - I wanted to say thank you,” he said, “For the letter and this.” Remus held his wrist up.

Lily turned pink, “Oh you’re wearing it, are you?”

“Yeah,” said Remus, thinking that the pink looked very pretty, even with her ginger hair framing it, “I haven’t taken it off. I really like it a lot.”

“I’m glad,” Lily said, smiling.

Xeno suddenly broke in, “You’re the bloke whose mum was killed by the Death Eaters.”

Remus looked at his shoes.

“Well that isn’t very nice, being so blunt about it,” Lily scolded, turning to look at Xenophilius, “You need to learn how to be more sensitive in the future!”

Xeno shrugged and pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet from his bag, holding it up so he was reading behind it, though it was upside down, avoiding Lily’s gaze.

Lily huffed with annoyance, then looked back to Remus. “Sorry about that,” she said.

“S’alright,” Remus answered, “I best get used to it; he’s certainly not the first and he won’t be the last, either, I”m afraid.”

Lily frowned. “I can’t imagine what you’re going though. I’m very sorry. Were you awfully close?”

Remus nodded, “She was the best mum in the world,” he answered. “And really beautiful, too, like a movie star.”

“She sounds lovely,” said Lily.

“She was,” Remus said. “I’ve felt very alone since she… you know… and yeah I just wanted to thank you because your letter and this bracelet meant an awful lot to me. I felt less alone when… when it happened for them.” He’d actually meant when he changed, but he couldn’t tell her that part. “That’s.. .that’s all.”

“You’re very welcome,” Lily said.

Remus glanced again at Xeno and then pushed open the compartment door, “Later, then, Lovegood,” he said.

“Toodles,” replied Xeno, waving the tips of his fingers.

LIly waved and they left, headed back for their own compartments. Remus stopped at Lily’s and smiled shyly at her, “See you, Lily.”

“Did you want to sit with us?” Lily asked.

“I’ve got to get back to my compartment - make sure James and Sirius haven’t turned Peter into a toad or something,” he answered, “But thanks.”

Lily laughed, “Well if those prats get to be too much you know where I am.” And before she could think of it or Remus could protest, she wrapped him up in a quick hug, before ducking into the compartment quickly, her face flushed.

Remus’s heart beat wildly, excitedly, and he practically skipped back to the compartment where the others were waiting.