Title: An Era of Marauding: Year One
Chapter 3: Diagon Alley
Author: Mister Moony
Contact: iunasspell@aol.com
Rating: PG
Summary: Ideally, this is a seven piece work detailing the years in which the Marauders attended Hogwarts. It's carried through the eyes of Remus Lupin, and therefore begins on a particularly dull July day at St. Mungo's.
*
3
Hidden far from the muggle eye in London was the most highly trafficked wizarding shopping center in all of Britain, Diagon Alley. It had a single, large street (though various smaller ones connected to it) that was surrounded on all sides by buildings and shops, and was ever crowded with bustling witches and wizards.
The clamor of voices, carts, and owls was almost overwhelming at first, but Remus's excitement about the upcoming school year drowned out the sounds into a small buzz in the back of his mind. He maneuvered along the streets in a bit of a content daze, resisting the urge to enter shops at random and rid himself of a few sickles (he was certain his mother wouldn't notice if he was missing a couple), until he came upon a quaint, brightly lit shop with a wooden sign hanging over the door that had a picture of a finely dressed witch, along with the words "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions" scrawled across its face.
Bracing a shoulder, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the sounds of Diagon Alley fading to a dull whisper on the other side of the door. A bell, which had been situated over the door in a very muggle-isque manner, rang out as he stepped inside, prompting the appearance of a flushed-looking, young witch's face through a curtain in the back.
She took one look at Remus before shouting over her shoulder. "We've got another one, Mum. First year, too, I'd say."
"Hogwarts?" A slightly older, female voice from the back asked.
The younger witch simply gave Remus a questioning look, and he was quick to nod.
"Yea', he's goin' to Hogwarts."
"Go ahead and send him back to me."
Remus remained rooted, watching the younger witch in indecision until she snapped slightly, pulling the curtain apart for him. "Well? Wha'cha' standing there for? Get in with you."
Moving at that, he darted through the curtains as directed to find himself in a larger, still brightly lit room. Two, large, wooden platforms were situated in the center, and there was one boy that looked to be about Remus's age situated on top of one platform, wearing much-too-long robes.
A portly, pleasant-faced witch was bustling about below him, making adjustments with flicks of her wand. "Just get up there on the platform, deary, and let me take a look at you."
The boy, who looked quite ruffled, lifted his eyes momentarily. He was a little taller than Remus, a bit thicker as well, but not round in the least. His features were defined and almost aristocratic (old blood, Remus assumed) and his eyes a soulful color of deep brown. He regarded Remus for a moment before offering a very faint, friendly smile. "Going to Hogwarts this year?"
Remus doubted the boy had not heard the witch's shouts of affirmation to that question, but accepted the inquiry for what it was -- an effort at starting up polite conversation. He couldn't have been more pleased. Clambering up onto the platform the witch had directed him to, he stood straight while she took a moment away from fitting the other boy to walk around him, murmuring to herself.
"Yeah, you?"
"Yeah. M'name's Sirius. What's yours?"
"Remus."
Sirius gave a faint nod of acknowledgement, furrowing his brow for a moment. "I'd offer a hand, but she put a squirm-resistant charm on me. Said I was movin' too much." A slight, drolling glare was cast in the direction of the witch, but she simply ignored it, continuing to circle Remus who gave an unconscious gulp and held very still.
"You have any relatives at Hogwarts?" Sirius asked at length.
"No," Remus provided after a pause of consideration. "My parents went a while back, but most of my family lives in the U.S...." Remus braced himself. Most old-blood children would make a remark about not being from England.
He only provided a slight, understanding nod. "Must be nice, not having all that family on your back. I have to be related...to half of Hogwarts, now. People put too much of a price on old wizarding blood, if you ask me."
The witch had finished with Remus's visual assessment now, and returned to Sirius. "Just relax for a piece, boy, let me finish with him and get him on his way."
Ignoring the witch as she went back to work on his robes, Sirius spoke up again. "So no family. You have any friends that are there now?"
Remus shook his head, albeit a bit slowly this time.
"That's too bad. You might just have to hang around me a bit, then, what do you say? I can show you around. The way my family's talked, I must know the castle inside and out, now."
For a moment, Remus hesitated, then the first inklings of a smile began to creep across his features. "I'd like that."
"You're done. Off," The witch ordered, flicking her wand and apparently releasing Sirius from the charm.
Sirius hopped down, shifting his shoulders in his now nicely fitting robes. "Well, I guess I'll see you at Hogwarts."
"Bye," said Remus, watching the black-haired boy retreat through the curtains and out front.
When Remus looked back, the witch was approaching him with a particularly large looking robe. "Now, just hold still and this'll be done in a flash."
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A flash, a few minutes of uncomfortable motionlessness, and a lessening of the weight in his pockets later, Remus was leaving Madam Malkin's with a few packages in his hands. He'd come out of it with three black robes, one pointed hat, a pair of dragon-hide gloves, and a heavy, black cloak with silver fastens.
His mother was not outside the shop, and so after asking for directions from an older wizard in a tall, green, top hat, he headed off down a smaller street in search of the wand-shop known as Ollivander's.
Finally, the dusty, run-down shop was located, and after casting a reluctant glance in through the darkened, grimy windows, Remus forced himself to enter. The inside of the building was crowded (by shelves and boxes, not people), dark, and filled with the musty scent one might associate with a library.
Remus was on the verge of voicing his presence in hope of seeing a worker when a low, scratchy voice came from his left elbow.
"Hello."
Jumping forward in a bolt, Remus rotated about to find a gangly, haggard looking old wizard staring at him pensively, sizing him up. "H-hullo."
"A Lupin, eh? Your father bought his wand here," the man began, beady eyes still skimming up and down Remus as he spoke. "Thirteen inches, yew and dragon-heart string. Never met your mum, though. I suppose you'll be needing a wand for Hogwarts?"
Remus provided a slightly meek, intimidated nod, resisting the urge to step back further. "Y-yes, sir."
"Very well, then, hold out your wand arm."
Sticking out his left arm with a slight jerk, Remus kept himself distanced, watching as Ollivander retrieved a measuring tape from within his robes, set it in the air, and let it begin measuring Remus at its whim. Turning, Ollivander retreated to a small stepladder and began rummaging through boxes. "Your measurements are very peculiar for someone of your stature, boy. You might be a difficult one..hm..yes, here."
He retrieved a box and came back down the ladder, fumbling as he opened it and pulled out a short, thick wand. Pushing it into Remus's hands, he gave a quick nod. "Spruce and phoenix feather, seven inches. Odd combination for odd measurements. Go ahead. Try it."
Nodding gradually, Remus obeyed the order and flicked his wrist. He'd barely followed through the motion before Ollivander jerked the wand from his hand and went back to the stacks of boxes, muttering to himself.
It took almost two minutes for Ollivander to return the second time, and he seemed even less sure of his decision this time than the first. The wand that he pulled out this time was longer and thinner, resembling a wand whereas the last one had resembled a club. "Willow and unicorn hair, eleven inches. Don't take all day, boy, wave it."
Remus liked the feel of this one much more as he took it, and as he waved it in obedience, a sparkling rainbow of blue, green, and purple light erupted to streak through the air and fall harmlessly to the floor.
Ollivander still didn't seem pleased. He rolled back on his heels, sucking his teeth apprehensively before he finally gave in and ceased his near-silent muttering. "So curious. I almost wish we'd not stopped carrying them..."
"Carrying what, sir?"
"Wands made with hairs from a werewolf's head."
Remus's heart sank. "W-why do you say that?"
"Well, the ruddy things are temperamental, just like werewolves, I reckon," Ollivander explained, plucking up the box and wandering toward the old-fashioned cash register he had situated between stacks of more wands. "Very hard to sell, as they don't like very many wizards. But you.. I think one would have suited you marvelously. I'd send you somewhere else, if I knew anyone that carried them, but we've all stopped since there's not a market. That wand will be fine for you, but if you ever happen to come across a werewolf while he's sleeping, don't hesitate to pluck a hair from its head and bring it back. I'll make you a fine wand..."
Blushing profusely and attempting to change the subject of the conversation, Remus paid six gold galleons for his wand, thanked Mr. Ollivander, and left the store as quickly as he could.
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The next day was marked by the full moon, so Remus barely had the time to recover, catch up on his rest, and get a few good meals under his belt before August 31 was upon him and his parents were making preparations to take him into London the next day.
Every Hogwarts student met at King's Cross Station in London on September 1 and boarded the school train, the Hogwarts Express, to get to school. Remus' ticket (complete with time of departure, station name, and platform number) had come with the letter from Dumbledore a few weeks prior, as well as a letter to parents reminding them to not purchase ties or scarves in house colors, as the children were yet to be sorted and there was a chance that they would be put into a house different from that which their parents had been in.
Hogwarts had four houses; Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Remus' mother had been a Hufflepuff, but his father had been a Ravenclaw, a house known for wisdom and sharp wit. If there was any house Remus had to choose to be in, it was Ravenclaw, as it seemed the best fit for him.
He wasn't necessarily brave or courageous like Gryffindors, he wasn't cunning and sly like Slytherins, and he wasn't remarkably just or loyal like Hufflepuffs. He did consider himself sharp of mind, however, so Ravenclaw seemed to be where he'd be placed.
Remus was considering that fact late into the early hours of morning, unable to sleep due to a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety. For the first time in his life, he was going to be able to decide things for himself without the weight of what he could and could not do as a werewolf being tossed before him at every instant.
He loved his parents, but felt that he should be trying to live as normally as possible if he ever wanted to be happy, and they both seemed quite bent on not working toward him having a normal childhood. At Hogwarts, as long as he stayed within the school's rules, he'd be able to decide things for himself; what he ate, when he slept. It was a relieving, exhilarating, and at the same time frightening thought.
He wasn't aware he ever fell asleep, but four hours later, the voice of his mother outside his door was enough to signal he had. "Remus! We leave in an hour! Come down and eat something!"
Remus stirred groggily for a moment, prying open his eyes before promptly closing them again. Light was streaming in from his window and across his bed, bright and promising, but he wasn't quite up for staring into the sun when his eyes had seen nothing but the back of his eyelids for the past few hours. Struggling out from under his blankets in a partial daze, hands were raised and rubbed fiercely across his countenance before fingers were directed through his tangled mass of hair.
"Up!" Aelia Lupin's voice came again from outside the door, and this time, she even ventured to knock on it a few times.
"I'm up, Mum," he spoke toward the door, doing his best to restrain a yawn. The last thing he needed was a lecture on his sleeping habits the day he left for school.
Ten minutes later, a fully dressed, washed, and awake Remus wandered down the short flight of stairs from his room and into the downstairs den, but he hesitated just short of the doorway into the kitchen as he heard his parent's voices from the other room.
"I tell you, Aelia," it was Remus's father. "That's the third from the Department of Muggle Relations in two months."
The Department of Muggle Relations was a portion of the Ministry of Magic that dealt with the few muggles that were knowledgeable about the wizarding world, Remus knew that much, but as for what the "third" was, he had no idea.
"What do they think is happening to them?" His mother questioned with a slight quake to her voice.
There was a scraping of a chair across the floor as if someone had sat down.
"The Aurors were called in for a meeting with the Minister of Magic this morning."
"A dark wizard, then?"
"I can't possibly think that one dark wizard is behind all of this. A collection, maybe," Mr. Lupin murmured quietly to himself, almost as if he was considering as he spoke.
Remus opened his mouth slightly but thought better of it. Fortunately, his mother voiced his question. "A group? Aren't the Aurors supposed to prevent things like that? What has the Department of Magical Standards been doing all this time? They'd notice the use of dark magic!"
His father made a slight noise of disdain and his mother's voice softened slightly to a tone that was more difficult to hear, but she continued. "How can something like that have escalated so sharply without anyone noticing?"
"I don't know, Aelia," He released a sigh as he spoke, obviously weary with the conversation. "We're to have a staff meeting after the Minister finishes with the Aurors, so I won't be able to come into London with you and Remus."
"Speaking of," Aelia said with a bit of afterthought to her voice. A second later, Remus was almost certain she'd cast a magnifying charm on her voice, because it echoed fiercely throughout the entire house, rattling pictures on the walls. "REMUS JAMES LUPIN! GET DOWN HERE OR YOU'RE GOING TO MISS YOUR TRAIN!"
Remus did a silent four count to be inconspicuous before he rushed into the kitchen, trying to look winded as if he'd taken the stairs in a run. "Sorry, mum, I did one last check to make sure I had all my supplies."
His father was stationed at the table, a copy of the Daily Prophet rolled out in front of him, but as Remus entered, he folded it over and set it in his lap.
Doing his best to pretend he hadn't noticed the strange behavior, Remus moved toward the table where his place was already set and his plate heaping with eggs and bacon.
"Hurry up," his mother ordered. "It's getting cold."
"Excited, son?" Mr. Lupin inquired as Remus settled into his seat and began to pick at his food. He never had much of an appetite for meat, especially after he became a werewolf (Remus always imagined that the meat had eyes and it was staring back up at him), but that was something his mother refused to understand.
At that question, Remus risked a glance up onto the clock. It was ten o'clock, and the train departed at eleven. "Yes." Something was nagging at the back of his mind now, and with a rush, he asked probably much too quickly. "Can I see the Daily Prophet?"
His father tensed for a moment, but his mother was quick to turn slightly from her place near the sink where dishes were busily washing themselves. "What business do you have reading the Prophet?"
Remus fumbled mentally for a moment. As learned a boy as he was, he never read the paper. "...Quidditch finals." He finally croaked out.
Quidditch was the only wizarding sport, and quite popular. It involved fourteen players on broomsticks, throwing a ball through fifty-foot high goal posts to score points while dodging attacks from other players and bludgers (smaller balls that are enchanted to fly around and knock players off their brooms).
There was only one catch.
"You've always hated Quidditch," his mother retorted with a suspicious narrowing of her eyes.
"I don't...hate Quidditch, mum," Remus corrected patiently.
"Yes, yes, you just think it's utterly barbaric and pointless. We've had this conversation before," she conceded with a wave of a spatula. Promptly, it was thrust at Remus' still full plate in emphasis. "You don't have time to read. Eat."
Defeated, he sank forward and resumed picking at his plate.
TBC