The Naming of Remus Lupin
Title: The Naming of Remus Lupin
Word Count: 955
Rathing: G
Summary: The night that 'Moony' came about.
Author's Notes: This was going to be the story of a Marauder adventure, but the boys were being lazy and couldn't be bothered to leave their dormitories. I might go through a naming of each, told from each boy's point of view. For bringandfly
Remus Lupin sighed. Ever since becoming a Prefect before the beginning of term, he had spent quite a lot of time sighing.
He looked at the three reasons for his sighs. Two of them were lying on their backs on the floor with their feet propped up on the foot of his bed. The third was sitting cross-legged by their heads and handing out Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. Their names, of course, were James, Sirius and Peter.
It was unfortunate for Remus that his role as Prefect, which he took seriously: it was yet another example of Dumbledore’s trust in him, clashed so disastrously with his role as a Marauder, which he took even more seriously: these were the only friends he had, had ever had and was likely to have. He’d only been Prefect for under a term when his friends had succeeded in becoming Animagi. Remus wasn’t sure that trying to become Animagi was illegal, but he knew for sure that becoming one without being registered definitely and resoundingly was. His friends could go to Azkaban. As Prefect, of course, it was his duty to tell McGonagall or Dumbledore. There was, however, absolutely no way he could tell on his friends. Especially when they’d done it for him. Then there had been the first full moon, right at the end of term, when they’d snuck down to the Shrieking Shack, without knowing how the wolf would react, and let him loose. Remus’s skin prickled at the thought of what could have gone wrong. What if they had lost him and he’d run loose through Hogsmeade? What if they had been unable to sustain their animal forms and he’d bitten on of them? He frowned at the two jiggling pairs of feet on his bad.
Remus pushed back the flashes of euphoric memory he had of that night. He told himself that it was horrifically dangerous and that he mustn’t allow them to do it again. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop them, though. He knew that he didn’t want to stop them, either.
He sighed again. Two of the feet (the ones clad in bright red socks) disappeared and were replaced by James’s tousled head and rather bony elbows.
“If you sigh one more time, Remus, Merlin help me I’ll hex your mouth shut.”
“I think it’s a little hard that I’m not allowed to sigh on my own bed,” Remus said.
James grimaced. “All I can hear is you sighing. It’s getting annoying.”
Remus was about to point out that James sighed whenever poor Lily Evans came into sight and that it had already got annoying and in fact was on its way to becoming downright irritating, when Sirius sat up and sighed as well.
James glowered. “Not you too, Sirius.”
Sirius made a face. “I’m bored,” he said, and flopped down onto the floor again.
“We could have another go at thinking up names,” Peter said, chucking a bright green Bertie Botts at Remus. Remus examined it rather doubtfully.
“Do we really have to?” he asked. “The names all sound so stupid. Besides, someone might guess.”
“Don’t be daft,” Sirius said from the floor. “We won’t make them obvious.”
“Yeah,” said James. “No one’s going to hear us call Sirius ‘mutt’ and assume that he’s an Animagus.”
“You’re never going to call me ‘mutt’,” said Sirius. “Or I’ll call you ‘venison’.”
“Poodle!”
“Bambi!”
“Mongrel!”
“You sound like my mother.”
Remus, who was aware that in Mrs Black’s eyes he was a mongrel, thought that Sirius might get angry. But then James responded with ‘Well, you look like my great aunt Mabel,’ and all was right again.
Peter scrambled up onto Remus’s bed, still clutching his bag of beans and watched Sirius and James wrestle each other. He offered the bag to Remus and Remus took an innocuous brown bean which he hoped might be beef or chocolate. Or mud, as he discovered.
“So, Peter, any ideas about what ridiculous name you’d like to be called?” he asked.
Peter shrugged. “I can’t really think of a good one for a rat.”
“The whole naming business is silly, really,” Remus said. He bet James or Sirius would try to call Peter vermin, or something equally unflattering.
“I think it’s wicked,” Peter said. “Like being in a secret society.”
“Dog breath!” said James.
“Doe-eyes!” said Sirius.
“I like that last one,” Remus said. “That’s James whenever he sees Lily.”
Sirius stopped fighting to laugh. James sat up.
“It is not.”
“It is, you know,” Peter said, lobbing a bean at James’s forehead. James caught it as it bounced off his face and popped it in his mouth.
“So, James is ‘doe-eyes’,” Sirius said, propping himself up on the bed.
“I am not,” James said through a mouthful of Every Flavour Bean, pushing Sirius down again.
“I’ve just though of a really good one for Remus,” Sirius said. “Moonster. Get it? Moon-ster.”
Remus felt very cold. A combination of moon and monster. He didn’t think he could cope with his friends calling him a monster, even in jest.”
James seemed to have the same idea. “I don’t think so, Sirius.”
Sirius shrugged. “How about Luna?”
“That’s a girl’s name.”
“I meant because of the moon, you loon. Hey, how about loony?”
“It’s not exactly a special name,” James said. “That’s just an ordinary insult.”
“I know,” Sirius cried. “Moony.”
“I don’t mind Moony,” Remus said quickly, before any of them came up with something worse. “Though I still can’t see why I have to have a new name. I’ve been happily called Remus for fifteen years, you know.”
“Shut up, Moony, you love it really.”
And deep down, Remus really did.
Word Count: 955
Rathing: G
Summary: The night that 'Moony' came about.
Author's Notes: This was going to be the story of a Marauder adventure, but the boys were being lazy and couldn't be bothered to leave their dormitories. I might go through a naming of each, told from each boy's point of view. For bringandfly
Remus Lupin sighed. Ever since becoming a Prefect before the beginning of term, he had spent quite a lot of time sighing.
He looked at the three reasons for his sighs. Two of them were lying on their backs on the floor with their feet propped up on the foot of his bed. The third was sitting cross-legged by their heads and handing out Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. Their names, of course, were James, Sirius and Peter.
It was unfortunate for Remus that his role as Prefect, which he took seriously: it was yet another example of Dumbledore’s trust in him, clashed so disastrously with his role as a Marauder, which he took even more seriously: these were the only friends he had, had ever had and was likely to have. He’d only been Prefect for under a term when his friends had succeeded in becoming Animagi. Remus wasn’t sure that trying to become Animagi was illegal, but he knew for sure that becoming one without being registered definitely and resoundingly was. His friends could go to Azkaban. As Prefect, of course, it was his duty to tell McGonagall or Dumbledore. There was, however, absolutely no way he could tell on his friends. Especially when they’d done it for him. Then there had been the first full moon, right at the end of term, when they’d snuck down to the Shrieking Shack, without knowing how the wolf would react, and let him loose. Remus’s skin prickled at the thought of what could have gone wrong. What if they had lost him and he’d run loose through Hogsmeade? What if they had been unable to sustain their animal forms and he’d bitten on of them? He frowned at the two jiggling pairs of feet on his bad.
Remus pushed back the flashes of euphoric memory he had of that night. He told himself that it was horrifically dangerous and that he mustn’t allow them to do it again. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop them, though. He knew that he didn’t want to stop them, either.
He sighed again. Two of the feet (the ones clad in bright red socks) disappeared and were replaced by James’s tousled head and rather bony elbows.
“If you sigh one more time, Remus, Merlin help me I’ll hex your mouth shut.”
“I think it’s a little hard that I’m not allowed to sigh on my own bed,” Remus said.
James grimaced. “All I can hear is you sighing. It’s getting annoying.”
Remus was about to point out that James sighed whenever poor Lily Evans came into sight and that it had already got annoying and in fact was on its way to becoming downright irritating, when Sirius sat up and sighed as well.
James glowered. “Not you too, Sirius.”
Sirius made a face. “I’m bored,” he said, and flopped down onto the floor again.
“We could have another go at thinking up names,” Peter said, chucking a bright green Bertie Botts at Remus. Remus examined it rather doubtfully.
“Do we really have to?” he asked. “The names all sound so stupid. Besides, someone might guess.”
“Don’t be daft,” Sirius said from the floor. “We won’t make them obvious.”
“Yeah,” said James. “No one’s going to hear us call Sirius ‘mutt’ and assume that he’s an Animagus.”
“You’re never going to call me ‘mutt’,” said Sirius. “Or I’ll call you ‘venison’.”
“Poodle!”
“Bambi!”
“Mongrel!”
“You sound like my mother.”
Remus, who was aware that in Mrs Black’s eyes he was a mongrel, thought that Sirius might get angry. But then James responded with ‘Well, you look like my great aunt Mabel,’ and all was right again.
Peter scrambled up onto Remus’s bed, still clutching his bag of beans and watched Sirius and James wrestle each other. He offered the bag to Remus and Remus took an innocuous brown bean which he hoped might be beef or chocolate. Or mud, as he discovered.
“So, Peter, any ideas about what ridiculous name you’d like to be called?” he asked.
Peter shrugged. “I can’t really think of a good one for a rat.”
“The whole naming business is silly, really,” Remus said. He bet James or Sirius would try to call Peter vermin, or something equally unflattering.
“I think it’s wicked,” Peter said. “Like being in a secret society.”
“Dog breath!” said James.
“Doe-eyes!” said Sirius.
“I like that last one,” Remus said. “That’s James whenever he sees Lily.”
Sirius stopped fighting to laugh. James sat up.
“It is not.”
“It is, you know,” Peter said, lobbing a bean at James’s forehead. James caught it as it bounced off his face and popped it in his mouth.
“So, James is ‘doe-eyes’,” Sirius said, propping himself up on the bed.
“I am not,” James said through a mouthful of Every Flavour Bean, pushing Sirius down again.
“I’ve just though of a really good one for Remus,” Sirius said. “Moonster. Get it? Moon-ster.”
Remus felt very cold. A combination of moon and monster. He didn’t think he could cope with his friends calling him a monster, even in jest.”
James seemed to have the same idea. “I don’t think so, Sirius.”
Sirius shrugged. “How about Luna?”
“That’s a girl’s name.”
“I meant because of the moon, you loon. Hey, how about loony?”
“It’s not exactly a special name,” James said. “That’s just an ordinary insult.”
“I know,” Sirius cried. “Moony.”
“I don’t mind Moony,” Remus said quickly, before any of them came up with something worse. “Though I still can’t see why I have to have a new name. I’ve been happily called Remus for fifteen years, you know.”
“Shut up, Moony, you love it really.”
And deep down, Remus really did.