Remus stared at the ceiling of his single quarantine room, the silence oppressive in a way the shared dorm had never been. The pandemic protocols had separated them all into individual spaces—supposedly to prevent spread, but really just making everyone more isolated and miserable. They'd tried sneaking out to meet in the common room a few nights ago, but Marlene had caught them and given them such a fierce lecture about "endangering everyone's health" that they'd sheepishly returned to their rooms.
Eight days of isolation. Eight days of forced separation from the people who kept him grounded. And underneath it all, the constant awareness that the full moon was approaching. October 2nd. Less than two weeks away.
He rolled over and grabbed his laptop from the bedside table, the familiar Windows XP startup sound seeming thunderous in the silent room. The blue glow of the screen illuminated his face as he navigated to his desktop, cluttered with school files, music folders, and random documents he'd been meaning to organize for years.
His cursor hovered over a folder labeled "Hogwarts Memories 2000-2003." He'd created it at the beginning of sixth year, some impulse to preserve their friendship before everything got complicated by N.E.W.T.s and university applications and whatever came after. Now, with everything feeling so fractured and uncertain, he found himself drawn to it.
He double-clicked.
Reading it now, Remus could feel the exact same overwhelming gratitude and disbelief he'd felt that night. They'd seen him at his most vulnerable, learned his darkest secret, and their immediate response had been to break the law for him. Not out of pity, but out of love.
I don't even know how to write about today. Grant took me to Canal Street and I feel like my entire world has shifted.
For context: Grant is this guy I knew from the children's home when I was little, before Dad got custody. We reconnected through some online forums (long story) and discovered we both ended up in London area. He's muggle, obviously, but he's also the first person I've ever met who just... gets it. Gets being different. Gets feeling like you don't fit anywhere.
Anyway, he's been hinting for weeks that there were places I should see, people I should meet. "You'll understand when you're ready," he kept saying, which was both mysterious and annoying. But today he finally took me to Soho.
Canal Street is like nothing I've ever experienced. It's this whole area where being gay isn't something you hide or apologize for—it's celebrated. There are rainbow flags everywhere, men holding hands openly, bookshops with sections I never knew existed. Grant walked me through it all like he was giving me a tour of a country I didn't know I was a citizen of.
"This is your community too," he said, watching me stare at everything with what must have been obvious wonder. "If you want it to be."
I think I do want it to be.
We went to this bookshop called Gay's The Word and I spent two hours just reading. Books about coming out, about gay history, about people like me who felt lost and found themselves. Grant bought me a copy of "The Front Runner" and said it was required reading.
The weirdest part was how normal it all felt. Like I'd been holding my breath for years and finally remembered how to exhale.
I told Grant about Sirius. Not the whole truth—can't exactly explain the magic part—but about how we're... whatever we are. How I've never been able to talk about it with anyone. He just nodded and said, "First love's always complicated. Especially when you're both figuring yourselves out."
First love. Is that what this is?
Walking around Canal Street today, seeing all these couples just existing openly, I could picture it. Me and Sirius, not having to hide or pretend or make excuses. Just being.
Maybe someday.
Grant's invited me to come to some youth group meetings. Says there are other people our age dealing with similar stuff. I'm terrified and excited in equal measure.
For the first time in my life, I don't feel completely alone in this part of myself.
Remus closed his eyes, remembering that day with perfect clarity. Grant had been so patient, so understanding. He'd given Remus the vocabulary and the confidence to understand himself in a way Hogwarts never could. The wizarding world was progressive about many things, but sexuality was still whispered about, still treated as something private and slightly shameful.
Canal Street had been a revelation. And Grant had been the guide who led him there.