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embrassemoi · 4 years ago

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Surrounded by the Moon and Stars • 06

Pairings: Sirius Black x [F]Reader, Remus Lupin x [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors, music snob!Remus, Author’s notes: song used: Come Together by The Beatles

BTW: I always try to use little to no physical descriptions for the reader insert but I did add that the reader has some sort of hair. I didn't mention hair texture or length (Sorry if ur bald). My taller readers, I only mentioned that you were shorter than Remus (no height was given)

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 6: ABBA vs. The Beatles

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“Merlin’s beard! Binns is a sadist; torturing students must be his only pastime,” James yawned, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes.

Nothing could ever compare to the History of Magic. Today, lessons were dreadful and muddy. Professor Binns’ monotone voice filtered throughout the class, rambling on and on about various dates in history. Hardly anyone paid attention before he started calling on students. Annoyed, Binns would continue to reiterate his inquiry until the student(s) got the correct answer, no matter how long it took.

A sadist indeed.

Although Binns wasn’t the sole reason why the class was pathetic, but rather the lack of any practical work was simply a joke. The class only reminded Y/N of her short time in public school. Geometry? Utterly useless for any daily life interactions. To make matters worse, Binns surprised the class with a pop-quiz and two chapters of reading. Luckily, he had an ounce of mercy in his ghostly body and dismissed the class early for lunch.

James continued, “I would rather fight a dragon than — Woah! Your hair! “

She glanced to look at herself through the reflection in James’ glasses. Her hair, which originally was emerald green, was now turning into a golden yellow. The different colours clashed together boldly.

“You look like the banner for the Holyhead Harpies,” Peter said, striding up to James’ side.

“The Holyhead Harpies,” James said dreamily, “They’re probably one of my favourite teams.

Remus, who had been trailing behind Peter jumps in, “You only like them because they’re all women, you wanker.” He turns to Peter, his hand shooting up to the side of his head, massaging small circles into his temples, “Why’d you get him going?”

James became insufferable whenever someone or something mentioned Quidditch. Not only would he boast about his abilities as a Chaser, but he seemingly was a never-ending encyclopedia about Quidditch. It only worsened as November neared, the start of the new Quidditch season was approaching.

One time Y/N found herself stuck listening to him babble about Ireland winning the world cup for about thirty minutes. She didn’t have the heart to stop him, though. Nobody listened to his rants and he could hardly contain his excitement. How could she tell him she wasn’t interested?

A monstrous smirk etched its way onto his face, “Caught me.”

“Be anymore of a predator would ya, Prongs?”

“Hey! That’s not the only reason why I like them. Did you forget their victory in 1953 against the Heidelberg Harriers? Their strategy was blood-fucking-brilliant. They’re legendary! My father was there to see it in person. Lucky bastard. He told me…”

His voice fades into the background as Y/N catches Remus’ eyes. A glint of mischief shined through them before he forced a fake pitiful smile. He mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to her before looping his arm around Peter’s shoulder, discreetly leaving James’ side and out of the classroom.

That sly, slippery bastard.

"— and did I mention that their seeker was one of the most sought out —”

“Wait, James.”

He abruptly pauses, waiting patiently for her to continue. She leads them out into the corridor and towards the great hall. “Sorry, didn’t mean to cut you off like that, but when is my hair going back to normal?”

Y/N instantly regretted mentioning her hair. There was no trace of a smile on James. His shoulders slumped a bit and his walking even staggered. “Godric, I know, I know and I’m sorry. I thought it would have returned back to normal by now. I’ve been creating reversal spells — even started asking Moony to help.”

“Moony?”

“Remus.”

“Another one of your nicknames?”

“It’s not a nickname! It’s a brotherhood — a pack!”

“Oh, sorry Prongs,” she drawled, a sarcastic smile on her face, “If I didn’t know you I would assume you were an asshole.”

“What? How?!”

“You go around calling yourself a marauder, the king of Quidditch and now Prongs. Seems pretty assholely.”

James’ mouth opens before closing again, repeating the process several times.

“Plus, you pull silly pranks every day.”

He chuckles, “Oi! You helped us with that itching idea!”

Her eyebrows raised in acknowledgement, “Touché.”

To this, James shakes his head, directing the conversation back to the Holyhead Harpies. Inwardly, Y/N wanted to whack him with a broomstick.

They were among the first students to reach the Great Hall, aside from students who had a free or were excused early by Professor Binns. None of the girls were there yet. Unfortunately, Marlene was held back by Binns, so Y/N was left to sit beside James who sat opposite to Remus, Peter and Sirius.

She had been trying her best to avoid Sirius whenever she could. It was clear he didn’t like her. He never laughed whenever she made a joke, he hardly noticed her, he never praised her, even if she tried to compliment him. He was just rude for no apparent reason. The rest of the marauders and girls knew this, although they preferred not to comment about the obvious, strained relationship (which they didn’t even know the reason for. Granted, Y/N wasn't quite sure herself. Was it the rejection, he just didn't like her or is just an ass?).

Although, ignoring and avoiding him proved to be extremely challenging. Y/N was glued to Lily’s hip ever since the Sorting Ceremony. It also didn’t help that if you were with one marauder, another one was sure to follow. She and James started to spend more time with each other, and by extension, she was obligated to be around at least one other marauder. With the addition of study sessions with Remus, it was inevitable.

Surprisingly, Sirius hadn’t made any snarky remarks, excluding dirty looks, he was being… nice — nicer to her. The action was a stark contrast from his previous behaviour and she speculated a few reasons why:

Most likely, James or Lily, she assumed the former, said something to him. Since his little spat with James at breakfast a few weeks ago, Sirius was tight-lipped ever since.

Maybe he was done being a prick, deciding to stop by himself after realizing he was a prick.

Went through something personal, it stopped, and his behaviour improved.

Minutes after the bell rang, students began to trickle in for lunch. The comfortable chatter rose as Y/N finished eating an apple. Everyone seemed pleased when James’ Quidditch lecture was interrupted as hundreds of owls streamed in, packages and letters dropping into the laps of students. She hadn’t expected anything considering her owl, Celeste, didn’t drop anything off since the first week of October. However, today she fluttered down between the bread and fruit bowls, dropping off several letters and a small parcel onto Y/N’s plate, pecking at the bread crumbs on the table. She tore the letter open, inside it said:

Dear Y/N,

Are you still having a hard time with Charms? If so, perhaps I find some textbooks and send them over.

Don’t slack off this year. Send me a letter whenever you have the chance. (Make sure to tell Celeste to be quieter next time. You know I can, and never will get used to the owls.)

Mom

Her mother finally wrote to her. A sense of joy flooded her body as she placed the letter back down on the oak table. A part of her wondered if Celeste was dropping off her letters to the wrong house, the one back in Toronto as her mother never wrote back. She opened the next letter, immediately recognizing the messy scrawl:

October 19, 1975

Y/N! I thought you replaced me with one of your brits, but a false alarm, your letters just take a while to arrive. Must be tiring for Celeste to travel to and from Scotland then America and back. You know, whenever people see her fly in, they still recognize her.

Are you doing anything for Halloween? We’re throwing another dance. Going to be alone this year now that I can’t force you to come. I guess I’ll just watch half the school dry hump each other while I smuggle in firewhiskey.

How’s it going over there? I heard from a few students, even read in the papers about the war. It’s getting pretty crazy over here. Teachers have been meeting and trying to prevent students and parents from losing their shit. My mom has been worried too, writing to me like a lunatic and I’m not even in the UK. The MACUSA have been keeping quiet but they were caught having meetings with counsellors from the Ministry of Magic. Even heard that Jenkins is stepping down. If it keeps getting out of hand here, I can’t imagine what it must be like at Hogwarts. I truly thought the war was dying down, I was wrong. Keep your wand close. Surely, you’ll get away with a hex or two.

Until next time

Matthew G.

So engrossed in her new environment, her old life slipped to the back of her mind. There was a detachment from her reality compared to the one at home. A pang of guilt hit her, swallowing her up from the inside out until another pang hit, loneliness. If she easily forgot everyone, would anyone remember her? None of her old friends, apart from Matthew, had made a move to contact her since she left.

Often thinking about writing them first, she had to remind herself if they wanted to, they would. Especially with the knowledge that people still recognized Celeste.

Was she forgettable and if so, was it karma for forgetting too?

It put a mechanical vice grip on her heart, applying just enough pressure to be a constant reminder. With every beat, it tightened more and more.

Looking around the table, she saw her peers huddle in groups, familiar laughter ringing throughout. So noisy, so taunting. She may have been friends with Lily, Dorcas, James or even Marlene, but they had their own friends. Friendships that had years to develop before she came. She had only known them for less than two months.

Forgettable.

How hilarious, she thought.

“Hey,” a gentle voice cooed into her ear, “Are you okay?”

She hummed back absentmindedly.

James wore a concerned expression, his eyes knitted together, one raised higher than the other like it always does when he was worried. The look he shot her suggested he wasn’t convinced, although he didn’t press; instead opting to stir the conversation. “So, who wrote to you?”

“A friend and my mom —”

A snort so loud that it caused the rest of the marauders, random onlookers and even Lily (who had a look of pure disgust on her face) turned towards them. “What did you say?”

“I got a few letters?”

“No!” He bellowed, “Who sent you them?”

“My friend and my mom —”

Nearly choking on his sandwich, James clutched his stomach laughing. Laughing so hard he has to grip the table to prevent falling off the hall bench. "Haha! Mom?! MOM?” He mocked in a poor American accent, “What the fuck is mom? It’s MUM. Bollocks!”

“We say vitamin.”

“It’s VIT-A-MIN! Who says VIGHT-A-MIN?” Without a pause, James presses his entire body onto her shoulder, smushing her before grabbing the letter her mother sent her. His eyes scanned across the pages before hitting a certain word. “Back home? Maple trees? Where did you use to live exactly?”

“Canada.”

“Canada?! You don’t mean those snowy gits?” At this, Peter and Remus snort under their breaths. Even Lily had to force down a smile.

Staring deadpanned at him, in an unamused voice, “Really?”

“You are a bundle of surprises! I thought you lived… I’m not sure. I assumed somewhere like New Hork.”

“York,” Lily corrects.

“Tomato, tomato,” he jokes, playfully batting his eyes at Lily before biting into his sandwich, “You do live in London, right?”

“Right.”

James takes a moment, letting the conversation die down before he quickly glances at Y/N again. An undecipherable expression crosses his face before it’s promptly replaced with elation, “I take back anything negative I’ve said about Canada. They have an amazing Quidditch rooster. Have you gone to any of their games?”

A low grumble of sighs follows at the mention of Quidditch from James. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus shake his head and sighed dejectedly.

“Nah, I’m a New-Maj, remember? My mom �� “

“Mum —”

“ — sorry, Mum — hardly understands the wizarding world, let alone what Quidditch is.”

His eyes were wide, whimsical, as a hand flew to his chest dramatically, “Rubbish! Bloody ridiculous! You’ve never seen a real Quidditch game? One day, I swear I’ll bring you to one! Or you can bring me to Canada one day and we can watch a home game!”

As James continued to rant, Y/N’s mind slowly drifted back to the bitterness in her chest. Trying to distract herself, she borrowed Lily’s quill and a few sheets of parchment, scribbling down letters in response.

Mom,

I’m fine with Charms, you don’t need to send anything. And don’t worry, I’ve been studying for my OWLs.

Love you, write soon.

The next letter was addressed to Matthew:

Matty Matt,

Of course, I didn’t replace you… yet.

Another dance? You would think the students’ protest last year would have influenced the professors this time. I guess it’s time for you to get wasted. I didn’t tell you last time but I think I’m going to a party. A friend of mine is throwing it and I know he’s going to force me to come no matter what. He briefly mentioned costumes and drinks. Plus, there’s going to be some kind of prank that I may or may have not been a part of? Sounds cool right?

Yeah, I’d say it’s been bad up here. I don’t know much about what's going on outside of school, though. The professors are hiding it well. I didn’t even hear about Jenkins stepping down. Keep me updated.

Until next time

She sealed the letters before sending Celeste off again, “Be quieter when you drop off the letters, yeah?”

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

It must be her lucky day.

The ringing of the bell went off, signalling the end of class. Professor Flitwick asked the students to stay behind so he could hand out quizzes the students completed on Monday in preparation for their upcoming test on Growth and Reductor charms the following Tuesday.

It was never a good sign when a professor flips your test over to prevent other students from seeing their mark. Flipping it over at a downwards angle, Flitwick handed Y/N her quiz.

Turning it over nervously, a tight coil formed in the pit of her stomach. A large P was plastered on the top right corner in bold red ink. She studied hard for this too. Angrily, she shoved her work into her bag and left the class. This was the third poor she'd gotten in a row. She should have told her mother she needed those Charm books.

“I swear I’m going mad! Her brother is a complete cow! He even — are you listening?”

She looks at the girl beside her, Marlene. Her glossed over, doe eyes must have served as an answer before the blonde shook her head.

“Sorry, distracted,” she mumbles, before forcing out a fake-happy tone, “Continue your story! I wanna hear!”

“Hey,�� Marlene says in a softer voice, “If something’s bothering you, you can talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” she replies instinctively. She felt bad spacing out during Marlene’s story but her mind was running through and under hoops. The last thing any fifth year student needed was to fall behind in their classes, let alone feeling like nobody cared about them.

At that moment, she wished she was wrapped away in red and gold blankets to wallow in her self-pity party, away from prying eyes. She could feel the burning sensations of tears building up.

Dammit.

Y/N looked out the window to her left. The sky was melting with the warm hues of reds and yellows while the other half was being slowly engulfed into a cloak of twilight. Even from here, she could feel the cool air seeping in from the windows making her tug on the sleeves of her robes.

She continued, “I’m just tired — been a long day. I’m going to take a nap before dinner. See you.”

Judging by the look on Marlene and Lily’s face, guilt riddles her body. They both look sympathetic. The pity only made Y/N feel disgusting. In all honesty, Y/N will care later. Right now wasn’t the time and she desperately needed some shut-eye.

Before she left the room, she overheard them talking.

“What’s up with her?”

“Dunno.”

Great.

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

Sleep did little to ease her thoughts.

The same uneasiness she felt on the train ride to Hogwarts settled deep into her bones again. She thought she was past this. The worrying about friends, missing home, feeling alone, failing class, stressing about her future. The rational part of her brain knew it was just one silly quiz (and old shitty friends), but knowing herself, if she were to continue to have this mindset, she would only fail in the end.

Dinner ended and Y/N belligerently climbed up the stairs towards the library to attend today’s study session. The Charms quiz threw her into a loop and it was better not to dwell on it, opting to rather use her time for something useful.

Her marks improved significantly since she attended her first session two weeks ago. The last couple of assignments and quizzes she handed in that she worked on during the groups were some of her best work, ever. Additionally, her ability to retain information was improving at astonishing rates and she found herself participating in lessons more often. Unfortunately, she started to doubt her abilities again.

There weren’t as many students as usual. Perhaps it was because of the Quidditch meeting for all teams tonight, or because nobody wanted to spend their time in a library Friday night. She assumed it was the latter.

Although, the same student with black hair from Slytherin was there; tucked away in his usual corner. He was always there. Whether it was the study sessions, another OWL or NEWT student or he simply just enjoyed the library, Y/N could always rely on him sitting there in his little nook.

In the far back, surrounded by tall bookshelves sat Remus. Another student, a first or second year, judging by their height, seemed to be asking him a question, rapidly writing down something on a piece of parchment whilst they walked away. Remus leaned back in the brown chair, his right leg was folded over the other as he stretched.

She spent over twelve hours minimum with Remus directly since the first session, minus the time he was around James and the girls. Perhaps she only started to notice afterwards but she swore Remus wasn’t around this much before. Now, he was everywhere.

In the past couple of weeks she’d gotten to know him, she made a mental list in her head of him:

1. Remus loves sweaters. They weren’t flashy, seemingly preferring to wear ones with small designs, stripes or a solid colour. He wore green the most. He also wore cardigans. Two, in particular, he wore the most; one was white and the other was a muted brown. They were big and hung off his loose frame, the pockets were often stuffed with books, rumpled parchment and his wand.

2. He’s a coffee addict. He drank it in the morning, the afternoon, at the study session and sometimes with meals at dinner. He loved to dump pounds of sugar, so if he only drank black coffee, it usually meant he was in a bad mood. James even joked that he became Sirius whenever he drank black coffee, because haha! Get it? It’s BLACK coffee!

3. He frequented the library whenever he wasn’t with the rest of the marauders. He enjoyed poetry, wrote post-it notes after post-it notes to annotate his favourite parts. He even slept there from time to time, not without having to persuade Pince to not give him detention.

As if Remus magically sensed her, he took a large inhale before he stopped stretching, opening his eyes to look at her. A small smile was plastered on each other’s faces. He stuck up a few fingers to wave at her, motioning her to come over.

“Hi Y/N. I thought you didn’t come on Fridays?”

“I don’t but I have a test, Charms, Tuesday.”

“Oh, well I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks for the offer, Professor Lupin, but just being down here will help me focus.”

A scarlet blush settled on his face at the mention of his tutoring. “Well come sit with me then.”

Pushing the chair out of the way, she sat down beside him, pulling out her cassette player and earbuds along with her notes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus staring at the player curiously.

“Do you want to listen?”

“If you don't mind. I didn’t know you could use these here.” Picking it up, he turned the rectangular device.

“If record players work here, why not this?”

She hands him an earbud, alongside a small collection of other tapes she had on hand.

“Choose whatever you want to listen to.”

Without much thought, he pressed the play button. The upbeat tune of Waterloo by ABBA trickled into their ears. Y/N bobbed her head up and down before the song was suddenly stopped.

A sour grimace sat on Remus’ face before their eyes met, his nose upturned slightly.

“Why’d you stop it?”

“I hate ABBA.”

“What!?”

“I just don’t like their cheesy disco-pop-esk sound. They sound generic and random words are thrown in when they don’t add to the song.”

“Jeez— never met anyone who hated them that much.”

A ghost of a smile appeared before he flicked through her collection of tapes. He picked up Abbey Road by The Beatles. Opening the player up, he slid out Waterloo. With a click and the press of a button, Come Together played.

“So you hate ABBA but not The Beatles? Benny and Bjorn said they were influenced by them!”

“Keyword: Influenced; which is just another word for a shitty knock-off version.”

4. Remus Lupin is apparently a music snob.

“Well, I think both are good.”

“Respectfully, I disagree with you.”

“Whatever you say, professor.”

"I've been thinking a bit, why did you come to Hogwarts? Why not just stay at your old school?"

The sudden switch of topics threw her into a loop. “Wasn’t by choice. My mom’s a doctor and got a position here. It was too good to turn down. But it’s not bad. There’s less wizarding laws.”

He nods his head, "I'm assuming you have dual citizenship?"

"Mhm."

About a half an hour passed as she sighed for the umpteenth time before putting down her quill. Her chair scraped back noisily as Y/N’s hand balled up into a tight fist, feeling her fingernails bite into her palm. She’d been flicking through her notes, the words all blended.

At this rate, if History of Magic didn’t exist, Charms would surely be her least favourite class.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

She was at a loss, this was the third time Remus had offered to help and he was persistent. She felt horrible that she was taking up his time to help her on a stupid Charms test.

He continued, “If you think bothering me is an issue, it’s not. I run the sessions on Friday. It’s my job.”

“Fine, but there has to be something I can do in return.”

“Hmm,” Remus pondered for a second, “How about this, I tutor you in Charms and in return you give me your Potions notes? I'm dreadful at it.”

“Deal.”

“Great. Before we start, is there anything in particular that you have questions on?”

Silently tapping on the quiz she received today, Remus snatched it and quickly scanned over her answers and Professor Flitwick’s notes.

“I see what happened. You know, the curriculum taught at Ilvermorny is different. That’s probably why you can’t understand some of this shit.” He cleared his throat, “So as we know, the growth charm increases the size of your intended target…”

His voice, like a light switch, changed instantly. Instead of his softer deep, raspier voice, it became commanding and steady. He never stumbled over his words and articulated his points elegantly. She found herself enraptured by him, understanding why he was in charge of the study groups.

Eventually, Remus takes a pause, “Does that make sense?”

“Yes. You know, you’re really good at this. No matter how much I asked Flitwick or even Lily I could never get it.”

A large blush bloomed on the apples of his cheeks before he shyly rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “I’m not that good.”

“No time for modesty, Professor Lupin!”

“Okay, okay! So here, do you see what went wrong? There would be a reaction with those two spells if —”

A boy, small, most likely a second year, stood at the foot of the shared table holding a large red and gold book. His hair, dark ginger, similar to Lily’s, was cut short. He fiddled with his fingers as he continued to stare at the two.

“... Um, hi. You're Remus — right?”

“Yup. Did you need help with something?”

“Yes! I’m having trouble with the Transfiguration spell, beetle into button.”

A look of understanding passed through his face before Remus turns to look at her, “Duty calls. It’ll be quick.”

“Of course, take your time.”

It was not quick. Understandably, very few were successful at the ginger’s age to perform the spell, but thirty minutes passed and the second year still didn’t understand the basic concepts. No matter how many times Remus had reiterated his point differently, the boy couldn’t retain it.

“I just don’t get it.”

“You learned this last year, it's a quick revision. I’m not sure what part you’re talking about. Look, do not wiggle or twirl your wand left, direct it towards the right. You have to picture the spell in your head before saying the incantation.”

He guided the boy's hand steadily before performing the spell himself.

“I don’t understand!” The boy whined.

He sighed, “Then we keep trying —”

“It’s too hard. Why are they teaching this crap anyway?”

“Could you stop complaining?” He snapped, closing his eyes before he realized what he’d just done. “I’m sorry about that. I’m… just tired. I can’t help you anymore, though. You should ask someone else,” Remus said brusquely, his eyes unnerving as he stared at the child. As a result, he yelped out a ‘thank you,’ rushing off in the opposite direction.

The muscles in his jaw tensed under the soft glow of the table lamps. There was a pale red tint rimming his eyes and he looked visibly paler than normal. Irritated, he bounced his knee rapidly, up and down, before looking out the large window beside them. The sky was mostly cloudy. Only the peak of the silvery moon appeared. A sliver was missing before it was fully complete.

He closed his eyes, before breathing in. His posture once stiffened, completely relaxed before a flimsy smile reappeared on his face, returning his attention to Y/N.

“Let’s continue, shall we?”

“If you’re tired we can stop.”

“No, s’okay. I’m fine — really.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek, adding to her list:

5. Remus was always so hard to read.

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