Saturday 30th June 1973
Dear Remus,
I’ve only been back at my parents’ house for half an hour and I’ve been told I’m bringing shame to my family five times. Five. Three of those times weren’t even from living people – the portraits of our ancestors have decided to have a go.
Going to start putting up my Gryffindor stuff now, I think.
Hope you got home ok.
Sirius O. Black
* * *
Dear Sirius,
Your owl arrived before I even got back – we had to get two tubes and a bus, it took ages.
Sorry about the family stuff. Be careful. Wish we were all back at school.
Remus.
* * *
Friday 13th July 1973
Dear Moony,
Come and visit soon, me and Peter will die of boredom!
Don’t send Sirius any owls – his mother intercepted mine and returned them all with curses attached! Luckily dad spotted it before we had any trouble, but bloody hell! I might try contacting his cousin Andromeda to see how she gets post through. I think it’s the muggle way, but Godrick knows how we’re supposed to understand that – I haven’t even opened my muggle studies books yet.
Let me know if you can come and visit. Remember mum said any time. We can talk to your Matron, and Madam Pomfrey – the Minister for Magic, if we have to!
James.
* * *
Dear James,
I know how the post works, but I’d have to nick some stamps. And I don’t what Sirius’s address is.
I asked Pomfrey after the last moon – she said no. She said the wizarding world is too dangerous for me. I don’t know if she means I’m the one that’s dangerous.
Sorry mate.
Moony.
* * *
Sunday 5th August 1973
Dear Moony,
So. You will not believe what happened. Seriously. The ceremony was all ready to go – I was in my hideous green dress robes (with black lace cuffs – LACE, Moony. Just wrap your mind around that. You would have thought I looked a right prat.) Regulus was there, my mother, father, half the family.
Then in comes Narcissa, wearing something that looked like it belonged to my grandmother. And she doesn’t look happy, so I thought – well, fair enough, I’m not exactly thrilled. But then she stands up, in front of everyone and says “We have to stop at once.”
So, everyone stops, and my mother looks like she’s about to start spitting curses, and my uncle is asking Narcissa “what do you think you’re playing at” and Regulus is grinning at me and Bellatrix is grinning too, only she looks a bit more mental than Reg. Then Narcissa whispers something to her parents and my aunt LITERALLY FAINTED. I shit you not. And everyone’s muttering and whispering, and mother can’t take it anymore and demands to know what’s going on, so Narcissa stands up, and LOOKS MY MOTHER IN THE EYE and tells her.
She made an unbreakable vow to marry Lucius Malfoy as soon as she finishes her NEWTs.
I can’t remember if I told you what an unbreakable vow is, but basically she can’t not marry Malfoy now – or else they both drop dead. I don’t know if I should be a bit offended on that point, to be honest. I mean what does it say about you when a girl would rather die than marry you, even if she is your cousin?
Anyway, as you can probably imagine, the whole Black family is at war, no one is talking to each other because a few curses ended up being thrown between my dad and my uncle. I can’t believe Narcissa. Seriously, I actually got close to liking her for a second before I remembered she’s still a Black, and a Slytherin, and she wants to marry Lucius slimy git Malfoy, of all people.
But it looks like I’m off the hook. There aren’t any other cousins left for me to marry now. Everyone’s furious, obviously, but for once no one’s furious at me. I think I’ll probably be coming back to Hogwarts in September – I heard mum talk about making Reg the heir instead. No skin off my nose, I couldn’t care less about inheriting this foul house or their foul fortune. Rather they just leave me alone and keep ignoring me forever.
Hope your holiday is going as well as mine (though I can’t see how it can be, because – honestly, what a bloody result, eh Moony??)
See you in a few weeks,
Sirius O. Black
* * *
Monday 6th August 1973
Dear Moony,
I bet Sirius has already told you the news, but just in case he hasn’t – THE BETROTHAL IS OFF! You were right, it came down to Narcissa in the end. Uncanny ability you have there, Remu ol’ pal, don’t fancy giving me odds on the quidditch world cup next year, do you?
Having a really boring summer all by myself. Pete’s lot are all off seeing their French relatives, so I don’t even have anyone to help me practice my catches. Hope yours isn’t too bad. I had a thought that maybe you could ask Madam Pomfrey to bring you to Diagon Alley in August? Or maybe we could meet you and drop you back after? Mum keeps asking after you, she’d love to see you again.
Get in touch if you can.
Yours in eternal boredom,
James.
* * *
Monday 13th August 1973
[Postcard depicting the Eiffel Tower in spring]
Dear Remus,
Bonjour and all that from Paris!
Hope your holidays are good. Wish you lot were here.
Peter.
* * *
Remus responded to each of these communications with vigour, much moreso than he had the year before. The marauders had seen enough of his handwriting to know how wonky it was, and he didn’t think they’d mind a few spelling mistakes. He told James he was very sorry, but he could not come to Diagon Alley (Madam Pomfrey said that wasn’t safe either, and wouldn’t tell him why) and he congratulated Sirius on his hard-won bachelorhood, but did not tell him that he, Remus, had anything to do with it. It would be too much like boasting, and he didn’t want Sirius to feel like he owed him anything.
Remus’s own summer was perhaps just as boring as James and Sirius’s, but filled with more purpose than any summer before it. Madam Pomfrey was true to her word and arrived the evening before and the morning after each full moon. As such, he spent less time covered in bandages, and had more time to read and plan for his year ahead.
When his books arrived courtesy of Dumbledore and the Hogwarts second hand bin, Remus was thrilled to be able to get a head start on his reading. Arithmancy was very difficult, but the challenge was exciting – and Care of Magical Creatures was utterly absorbing, if only because of the fantastic colour illustrations.
Even Matron commented – somewhat suspiciously – that Remus had changed a great deal after two years away at school.
“Nice to see you’re keeping out of trouble.” She said one morning, when she found him sitting at the bottom of the garden reading a heavy textbook using his magical sheet of acetate. At the time, Remus simply squinted up at her and smiled benignly. She of course had no idea that before the summer was over he was to have committed his first serious crime.
Ever since his Christmas with the Potters, Remus had been plagued with one particular problem, and he wasn’t sure how best to overcome it. Money. He didn’t have any – muggle or wizard, Remus was as poor as you could possibly be. This had never mattered a great deal – after all, St Edmund’s supplied his basic needs, and Hogwarts gave him everything else.
But. But. He would have liked, at the very least, to be able to return the generosity his friends had shown him. They’d bought him countless sweets and gifts; Sirius had given him the ability to read, for goodness’ sake, and Lily had singlehandedly rescued his summer. For some time now, Remus had resolved to seek out the soonest opportunity that might result in payment.
Fortunately for Remus, this opportunity presented itself one hot June afternoon. He was reading again, of course, sitting outside on a bench under the shade of an old pub umbrella which must have been donated at some point since his first year. Now was he was thirteen, while Remus was not among the eldest boys at St Edmund’s, he was no longer at the bottom of the pile, and could generally escape being picked on too badly.
A shadow fell over his book, and he looked up. Craig Newman, a sixteen-year-old skinhead, glared down at him. Craig’s gang was the top of the pecking order at St Eddy’s. They all listened to reggae, wore bovver boots and drainpipe jeans held up by suspenders. Some of them had tattoos, and all of them had bruises.
“Orright, Lupin.” Craig grunted at him. Remus blinked, slowly closing his book and wondering if it was much good as a weapon. It was heavy, anyway.
“Orright, Newman.” He nodded, trying not to look small and scared. He slipped naturally back into his old accent over the summer, slurring words and dropping consonants. It was safest. 
“’t’chu readin?” Craig squinted down at the book, looking mistrustful. Remus wondered if Craig could read. He shrugged, nonchalantly,
“Jus’ summink for school.”
“Yeah,” Craig nodded. Remus didn’t move a muscle. He couldn’t understand what was happening – did Craig really just want a casual chat? “You’re clever, in’t ya?” The older boy said, suddenly.
Remus didn’t know which response was more likely to get him beaten up, so he didn’t answer at all. No matter, Craig didn’t seem to mind. He just scratched his chin, then pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his shirt sleeve. “Yeah, you’re clever. Always readin’ an’ that.” He lit the cigarette with a match from hit boot, then offered Remus the packet.
Remus reached out and took one. He’d never smoked before, but most of the boys at St Edmund’s did. Craig lit it for him, and Remus inhaled. His eyes filled with tears at once, and he tried desperately not to cough and splutter. It was disgusting.
Craig looked at him with some amusement and continued. “Small, too. Skinny, like.”
“I s’pose.” Remus replied, coughing, watching Craig inhale and then trying to copy him.
“Fancy comin’ on a job?”
“Job?”
Craig nodded, his tiny eyes fixed on Remus.
“Yeah. you’d be good. Gonna do over the offie in town. Tomorrow night. Ain’t got no security. Ain’t got nuffink, c’ept a dog. Goin’ after the till and the booze. You can have a share. Just need to pop you through the back window.”
“Right,” Remus nodded, as if the prospect did not utterly terrify him. He sucked on the cigarette again, out of habit this time. He could sort of see the appeal, once you got over the taste. He considered Craig’s suggestion.
On the one hand, it was bloody dangerous. Newman’s gang weren’t known for their finesse, and a few of them were already on probation. On the other hand, it did not seem as though he had much choice. When Craig Newman wanted you to do something, you sort of just had to do it. Plus, he could definitely benefit. Muggle money was all but useless to him, of course, but there might be a way…
Remus looked Craig Newman in his little piggy eyes.
“I just want fags.”
Craig smirked and nodded. And so, Remus began his short career as a burglar.