Chapter Text
“But I am leaving for India.”
“And it is not far enough!” The viscount hissed. “Do you think that there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment? I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honour, but that honour is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend—”
“Christ, but your room is a mess.” Remus startles and slams his laptop shut, his head whips round to his doorway where Lily is standing. She blinks at him, and her mouth stretches into a little grin.
“What’re you watching?” She approaches Remus’ bed, and he shifts to make room. Lily sits cross legged on his bed and draws his duvet over her lap. Remus—who’d previously been laying down—sits up, legs stretched out in front of him. He opens his laptop and Lily looks over at his screen.
“Why’d you freak out so much,” she laughs, “I love this show. You know I love this show.”
“I don’t know, you just scared me.” He turns the screen towards her, “You wanna watch?”
Lily hums, and leans into Remus’ side. Remus plays the episode, but notices Lily seems… distracted. Her eyes have a faraway look that indicates her mind is elsewhere, and she twists the yellow wool of her jumper absentmindedly. When the episode ends, she closes and opens her mouth repeatedly, before taking a deep breath.
“Remus,” Lily’s voice is quiet, “I need to talk to you.”
Remus hums, shutting his laptop and placing it on his bedside table. He turns to Lily, who’s bitten her lip so much it’s starting to swell. She’s nervously twisting the cotton of Remus’ duvet in her fingers. Remus grabs her hands and takes them in his. Lily shifts in her seat, and she looks conflicted.
“What’s wrong?” Remus asks, his stomach twisting.
“I think…” Lily steels herself, “Look, I’m gonna call it off with Fabian.”
Oh. Okay. That is… admittedly not what Remus had been expecting.
“So, you’re not pregnant?” He blurts out before he can stop himself.
Lily lets out a short laugh. “Pregnant?” She wrinkles her nose. “No, there’s absolutely no chance of that. Why would you even think—?”
“Well, I don’t know.” Remus huffs, dropping her hands. “You were acting so nervous and… you just seemed really scared, what was I supposed to think?”
“Oh, you’ve completely lost it,” Lily groans, “I literally haven’t even—y’know what? Forget it.” And then, in a quiet voice, she adds, “You’re not… upset, are you?”
Remus blinks. “What—upset you’re not pregnant? No?”
Lily thwacks him upside the head. “Don’t be purposefully obtuse.”
“I’m not,” Remus elbows her. “That was a genuine question.”
Lily huffs. “You and Fabian…he’s your best friend. Well, he’s your best friend after me,” she adds, “I don’t want to be the reason things get weird between the two of you.”
“Lily, that’s ridiculous.” Remus pauses. “Look, I won’t lie, things might be a bit…off between the three of us for a while, and I won’t exactly fancy playing middleman during all of it, but you don’t have to stay in a relationship for my sake—it’s not even my relationship.”
Lily leans back against Remus’ headboard and looks up at the ceiling, her hands fidgeting. “You’re sure?” She asks, biting her bottom lip. “Everything will be alright between us?”
“If you make me repeat myself, I’m kicking you out of my house.”
Lily scoffs. “Your family loves me, they'd never allow it.”
Remus grumbles, but lays down next to Lily, resting his head on her shoulder. It’s true, they do love her. If there’s one thing Lily can always be certain of, it’s how loved she is by all the Lupins. Even Hope, when she’d still been alive, had loved having Lily around. Maybe it’s because she’d never had a daughter of her own—just Remus and his brothers—but she’d taken any chance possible to gush over her.
“When are you gonna tell him?”
“Tomorrow. I’m leaving the day after, so it only feels right.” They’d just finished year 11 a fortnight ago, and Lily’s family was spending the last four weeks visiting her grandparents in Ireland. Remus was a bit upset at having to spend the summer without her, but he reckons the distance will be good for Lily and Fabian.
“I’m not angry,” Remus says, “But I am a bit… surprised? I guess? I didn’t know there was anything wrong between the two of you. Did you get into a fight?”
“No,” Lily says, “It’s just… I like Fabian, I really do, but I just not in the way you’re supposed to like a boyfriend. And I know I won’t, so there’s no point in dragging it out. It’s just… when you know, you know… you know?”
Remus—who has never dated anyone in his life—hums in agreement. He very decidedly does not know.
The summer before sixth year, Lily would come over to Remus’ house, and for six weeks he was made to quiz her, and revise with her, and help her take down notes. It was the last day of break when Lily first brought up the idea.
“I wanted to give you this. Your own copy.” She handed Remus a stack of papers that had been stapled-together over his kitchen table. The first sheet contained a large image of a crest split into four sections; a lion, a snake, a badger, and a raven. There weren’t any words on it, save for the title, which read:
Hogwarts Secondary School
Entrance Exam Review Sheet
“You don’t have to of course,” Lily continued, “I just thought you should at least consider it.”
“I… Lily, what am I supposed to do with this?” Remus looked from the stack of papers to Lily, thoroughly confused.
“Eat it.” Lily looked at him, unimpressed. “Honestly, Remus, it’s a study guide. What do you think you’re supposed to do with it?”
“I know what it is,” Remus sighs, “I just don’t understand why you’re giving this to me.”
Her face was carefully neutral, almost bored, but Remus caught the way Lily tapped her fingers against the table, there was no rhyme or rhythm to it. It was a nervous habit of hers and Remus isn’t sure she knows she does it.
“I thought… look, Remus. I’m applying to Hogwarts. It’s one of the best schools out there, and they have connections with some of the top universities in the country. Going to this school would be a great opportunity. It’s all hypothetical of course, I’d have to get in first, but… I think you should apply—”
“Absolutely not—”
“—It could really help you in the future!” She rushed out, “And if we both get in, we could go together. Which means I’ll be right there incase anyone says anything—”
“Lily, no.” Remus says, “I can’t… no, there’s no way.”
“Remus,” Lily begins, “I know it’ll be difficult in the beginning—”
“Lily, no.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “I know you mean well, truly, I do. But this isn’t… it would be awful for me.”
“But how do you know?” she asks, “you haven’t been to school in years all because of a hypothetical. I promise you, nobody will care—”
“You can’t promise that,” Remus says, “people will… Lily, people will talk. If someone—”
“Romulus will be there,” she argues, “he’ll stick up for you if anybody tries anything. And so will I.”
“I can’t just depend on the two of you.”
Lily looks at him, unimpressed. “Remus, I love you, and it’s because I love you that I feel compelled to be honest with you right now. You already depend on Romulus and I.”
“That’s different—”
Lily holds up a hand to silence him. “I wasn't done. You’re one of my best friends, and I love spending time with you, but Rem, you are miserable, and don’t even try to deny it.”
Remus, who’d just been about to argue the point, snaps his mouth shut.
“I can tell, you know? The way you look whenever you ask me about school, about clubs, and assignments, and trips and my friends. You miss it, I know you do. And as much as we’d love to, Romulus and I can’t be your only support network. I don’t know, don’t you ever think about it? Even a little.”
“Of course I do,” Remus sighs, “but Lily I’m not that kind of person. Even back when I went to school, it’s not like I ever really got on with anyone. All I had was you.”
“That’s not true,” Lily presses, “you were friends with the other boys in our class.”
“When we were seven. And it wasn’t even like I was really friends with anybody. At that age, everybody got on together, and even then I was the odd one out. Everyone had somebody they were closer with and I was just… there. And now I’ve got this. ” He gestures to his face, at the myriad of scars that litter his skin, “It’s just not plausible.”
“That’s bollocks,” Lily hissed, “I mean, seriously, so what if you’ve got a few scars? I think they look wicked anyway, and it’s not like anyone will honestly care all that much. You can’t just isolate yourself from everyone because you’re afraid of being isolated. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he snaps, “it’s different for you, everybody loves you.”
“They would all love you too,” she says, “if you would actually speak to them.”
“Oh my god, Lily, just let it go.” He groans.
“Think about it.” Lily’s eyes are blazing and her tone carries an air of finality. Remus knows there’s no point in arguing about it. You’d have better luck trying to stop the Earth spinning than you would trying to dissuade Lily from something once she’d set her mind to it.
“I’ll think about it.” He relents. Remus skims through the study guide and grimaces. “ I don’t know how I’m supposed to memorize all this by the end of October.”
“Oh, you’re not,” Lily’s mouth turns up in a sly grin, “If you actually look through it properly you’ll see that you’ve already got most of it memorized. Why do you think I’ve been making you study with me all summer? All that you really have to worry about now is the essay. And the SATs.”
“Oh, you suck,” Remus laughs, “you’re a manipulative witch, I can’t believe I fell for that.”
Lily smiles, but her expression turns serious again.
“Seriously, Remus, please consider it. You won’t admit it but you’re so… you’re lonely. I know you are.”
Remus had always been a meek child, more quiet and withdrawn than his peers—but he’d never been lonely, not until well after the accident. It’d happened near the end of year two, he’d spent the summer recovering and both he and his father agreed it would be better for him to be homeschooled indefinitely.
Well, Remus thought it would be better. Lyall clearly wasn’t all that fond of the idea but Remus couldn’t stand to leave the house anymore, so he chose not to push Remus more than he was comfortable.
In those four years, his father and brothers had been some of his most constant sources of company, but they couldn’t be around all the time. His father had work, and Romulus had school. Roman was an infant, so…
Remus did have “friends” from primary, but the relationships between children at that age were shallow and largely based on proximity. They’d visited here and there but time had pushed them apart. Remus wasn’t bitter about it, of course. They weren’t in any of the same classes, and never went out together. It was bound to happen eventually.
Lily is the one friend he still has from those days. Their mothers had been close growing up, and in the wake of Hope’s death, it had been Iris who’d sorted through his mother’s things while his father remained at his bedside. Iris had cleaned their house and cooked meals for his family and took care of his brothers while Remus was stuck in that hospital. When Remus came home and refused to leave his room, it had been Iris who’d gently coaxed him out, who’d held him while Remus sobbed and rubbed his back when he threw up. She made him his mother’s honey tea and sat with him until he fell asleep.
Iris would send Lily and Petunia over to his house every weekend and tell them to keep him company. Petunia had tried—really, she had—but she quickly grew tired of being forced to spend her Saturdays confined to Remus’ house. She’d stopped showing up eventually, which Remus honestly hadn’t minded—had expected even.
The one thing he hadn’t expected was for Lily to stay. But she did.
She’d spent nearly all her freetime with Remus, she did her homework at Remus’ desk, and then—once Remus started leaving his room—at his kitchen table. She brought him occasional updates on how his old classmates (friends?) were doing. She’d been the one to coax him out of the house for the first time since he’d been discharged from the hospital. They’d walk down two blocks to a small corner shop Remus hadn’t been in for over a year and gotten slush puppies—Remus got lemon-lime and Lily got blue raspberry.
It was burning hot outside, the drink gave him a brain freeze, the corner shop floor was oddly sticky, and Remus wanted to turn back about ninety different times. But Lily held his hand the whole way and he’s pretty sure he saw her tear up when Remus took his first sip, so he stayed.
No, Remus wasn’t lonely, not at first. But Lily still had school, still had clubs and school trips and her own group of friends, and she couldn’t be around him all the time—not that Remus ever expected her to be. Time dragged on and Lily still came around, but it was clear she was part of a world entirely different from Remus. She had a life that extended far beyond the walls of his house, one that Remus could never be a part of.
It weighed on him in a way it never did with Romulus. Maybe it’s because he’d always been a bit detached—for lack of a better word—from his older brother’s life. Romulus was only two years older than him, not a lot by any means, and they’d also gotten on just fine, but Remus and Romulus’ life had still been a bit divided. Romulus was in different classes, had his own circle of older friends, his own little hobbies that Remus had never been a part of. That divide didn’t exist with Lily—Lily, who was practically his twin, who’d been in all his classes, gone on all the same school trips, had the same little circle of friends as him.
It’s not like he resented Lily for it, he just… wanted to be a bit more like her. Lily who went out into the world without hesitation, Lily who had a plethora of friends and even more admirers. Lily was the kind of person who demanded attention. She spoke and you had to listen, she walked into a room and you had to stare.
Lily was bold and proactive and Remus was barely even reactive. That had always been their dynamic, even back when they went to school together. Lily was the doer, and Remus was the kid she dragged along.
Lily did things first. She lost all her baby teeth first, got braces first, got her braces off first, learned how to ride a bike first, learned how to swim first, she was always the first to sign up for any school trips, any clubs or committees. Hell, Remus’ entire watchlist is just filled with shows and movies Lily loved and told him to watch.
But—and Remus would never say this outloud—he would always remember that he met Fabian first, and as consequence, he’d liked him first.
Their next-door neighbours had sold their home when Remus was in the middle of year six. They were an elderly couple whose children were all grown, the house was too big for just them two, and they wanted to retire to a nice little seaside town—or so his dad told him anyway.
The house was bought by the Prewetts. Remus remembers the day they moved in, it had been the end of April, just a few days past Easter. His dad had gone over to introduce himself and welcome them to the neighbourhood. He’d asked Remus if he wanted to come with, but they both knew what the answer would be even before Remus had declined. Lyall tried his best to hide his disappointment, but Remus had gotten rather good at reading him these past few years.
Remus didn’t go over to the Prewett’s drive with his father, but he did sit in one of the chairs out on the veranda and watch the family move in, his copy of Roald Dahl’s The Tales of Beedle the Bard held loosely in his hands.
His father was talking to a sturdy-looking man taller than him, with ginger hair so light it almost looked blonde, and a thick, full mustache. The man had kind eyes, and Lyall said something that made him laugh—a loud, booming sound—and he slapped him on the back. Lyall stumbled and winced, the man didn’t notice, but Remus did and snorted as his father righted himself.
A woman came up next to them and the man wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her in. She had deep, red hair and a round and freckled body. Her face was soft and youthful, and when she smiled Remus noticed she had dimples. With her hair done up in short curls, her yellow floral dress, and her white hat, she looked like she’d just walked out of a 1950s magazine.
Remus watched the adults make conversation for a few more minutes before turning his attention back to his book. He’d read it already, but there was no shame in a reread, and he preferred reading on his veranda, when the weather was nice and he felt himself up for it.
“What’re you reading?”
Remus jumped and nearly dropped his book. There, hanging on the side of the veranda’s railing was a boy his age, with the same orange-blonde hair as the sturdy-looking man, every inch of his skin was littered with freckles.
“Uhh…” Remus stammered, “are you a Prewett?” His voice squeaked and he winced.
The boy blinked at him, “Um, yes? I mean yeah, I am.”
“Okay,” Remus squirmed in his seat, “I live here.” He added, when the boy remained silent for too long.
“I guessed as much,” the boy said, “How old are you? Your da’ said he had a bairn my age. I’m guessing that’s you?”
“I’m eleven.” Remus said.
“Oh, nice,” The boy smiled, his grey eyes lighting up, “I’m almost eleven, my birthday’s in July. Wait, one second.” The boy jumped off the railing and ran up the steps to Remus’ house, coming to sit in the chair next to him.
“What’s your name? I’m Fabian. We just moved out here, ‘course I told my folks I didn’t want to since this place seemed so boring, but when do they ever listen to me? All my friends are back in Stockbridge. I’m from Stockbridge, forgot to mention, and I met all the neighbours already—or I thought I did—and there weren’t any other lads for me to hang out with, even though da’ promised there would be. But then your da’ came over to mine and I heard him mention you, and I saw you sitting out here, so…” He spoke very fast, and when he was finished rambling he looked at Remus expectantly.
“I’m… Remus.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, in the wake of the boy dumping his whole life story on him. “What’s your name?” He added, realizing it’d be rather rude not to ask.
“Fabian,” the boy blinked, “I just said that.”
Right. He did.
“Sorry.” Remus held his book tightly in his hand, tapped his foot nervously against the wood floor. “Force of habit.”
“S’alright.” Fabian leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Say, what school do you go to? We’re probably—”
“I don’t.” Remus looked down, eyes trained on his book and wishing he’d just stayed inside today. “I’m homeschooled.”
“Oh.” Fabian sounded disappointed, and though he didn’t know him, the sound left an uncomfortable feeling in Remus’ stomach. “Well… that's just for primary, right? Are you gonna go to a proper school come September?”
“No.” Remus picked at the corner of The Tales of Beedle the Bard’s cover. “I mean my brother… no, I’m not.”
“You have a brother? Is he homeschooled too?”
Remus shook his head. “No… he uh… he goes to Hogwarts.”
“I’m going there in September. My brother Gideon’s a year older, so he’s starting after the break. Oh, and I have a sister, but she’s way older than us.”
“My brother’s name is Romulus.” Remus says, looking up at Gideon.
“How old is he?”
“Twelve. But he’s two years older than us, he just has a late birthday.”
“Do you have any sisters?” Fabian asks.
“No,” Remus says, “but I have a younger brother, Roman. He’s five. He’ll be six in May.”
“Is he homeschooled too or—”
“No.” Remus shook his head. “It’s just me.”
“Huh.” Fabian leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. He squinted at Remus, looking him up and down. “I don’t get it. Why don’t you go to a proper school if your brothers do?”
Remus shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t.” He aims for casualness, trying to ignore how his scars seem to be burning against his skin.
“Oh. Well, are you going to Hogwarts too?” Fabian asks.
“No,” Remus frowned, “I told you, I’m homeschooled.”
“No, I know,” Fabian says, “But you said your brother goes to Hogwarts. Are you gonna go there for secondary?”
Lily wanted to go, has wanted to go since she was six, and she’d spent nearly the past year studying for the SATs and somehow, she and Remus’s family had managed to wrangle him into sitting the entrance exam back in October.
“I don’t know,” he says, “I applied but… I mean, it all depends on whether or not I even get in.”
“But you will if you do?”
Remus thumbs the corner of his book. “I don’t know.”
“You should,” Fabian says eagerly, “I applied too, if we both get in, we’d probably have some of the same subjects.”
“Yeah,” Remus says, “Maybe.”
The two lapse into a stilted silence, and Remus is about to make up an excuse to go inside when Fabian finally speaks again.
“So… is there anything to do around here?”
“There’s a corner shop not too far from here,” Remus says, “and a community centre. There’s a library and a pool there, if either of those interests you. Oh, and there’s a shopping centre nearby, but there’s honestly not much to do there.”
“There’s a playground around here, right?” Fabian asks.
“Yeah, just a few blocks down.”
“We should go.” Fabian jumps out of his chair, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet.
“What, right now?”
“Yes.” Fabian nods. “It’s better than sitting around here.”
Remus grimaces. He only ever goes to the playground when it’s cloudy and raining a bit—days where he knows no other kids will be there. It’s the middle of the day and it’s sunny outside. It’ll be packed right about now.
“You should go,” he says, “I don’t really feel up to it.”
“Oh, come on,” Fabian pouts, “please come with me. Seriously, Remus, I’ll do anything.”
Remus shifts in his seat. “Just go on your own, it’s not far.”
“I can’t.” he sighs, “My mum and da’ said I can’t go alone, but they won’t take me since they’ve got to unpack, and my brother already said no.”
“Why not just go tomorrow?”
Fabian groans. “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, and I’ve been bored out of my mind these past few days. Just do me this one thing. I’ll be your best friend, I swear.”
Remus—who’d never been really good at standing his ground or saying no to people—sighs. “Fine,” he says, “but I’ll have to ask my dad if it’s alright with him.”
Lyall—either oblivious to his son silently pleading for help, or ignoring it—agrees. Remus wants to fake sick right then and there. He doesn’t though, because once the initial shock fades, Lyall looks…relieved to say the least.
He’s been trying so hard to get Remus out of the house more, and everytime Remus refuses it chips away at him. Lyall tries not to show it, but Remus knows how disappointed he is. It’s a bit odd, to see his father look so happy for once, when recently all Remus has been is a source of stress and anxiety for him. It makes him feel guilty.
It really won’t kill me, Remus tells himself, all the way to the playground. Fabian is practically skipping, and he talks non-stop but Remus can’t focus on him much. It’s much too hot for a hoodie, but Remus wishes he’d worn one anyways. He also wishes he hadn’t kept his hair so short. He’d gotten sick of it always falling in his face and decided to have it cut down and kept it that way since. Now, he really wishes he hadn’t.
Seriously, it won’t kill me.
“I’m so sick of PE.” Fabian groans from where he’s laid out on Remus’ bed. His school tie is loosened and he buttoned his shirt wrong—one button too high. “I’m never moving again.”
Remus rolls his eyes, he’s sitting upright next to him. “Do you always have to be so dramatic? Every time you have PE, I have to listen to your wailing for an hour. I hate it too, but it’s not that bad.”
“That’s because you’ve never had to play against Black and Potter,” he whines, “I’m telling you, Remy, they’re not human, it’s not natural.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Remus says dryly.
“Lucky bastard,” he mutters, “I hope you have to play them next year, all on your own, and then you’ll know how I feel.”
“You weren’t on your own, you had a team.”
“And what good did that do me?!”
Remus laughs. “At least we won’t have to do it anymore in sixth form.”
“That’s another four years.” He whines.
“Yep.” Remus grabs his laptop off his bedside table and opens it to an unfinished project for his history class. “Shut up now, I need to work.”
Fabian shuts Remus’ laptop and sits up.
“What—I was using that—”
“Do your homework later,” Fabian says, “let’s go and do something.”
Remus raises an eyebrow at him. “I thought you weren’t planning on moving ever again.” He drums his fingers on his closed laptop. He needs to get this project done.
Fabian waves his hand dismissively. “A moment of weakness. Anyways, I’m bored, which means it’s your job to entertain me.”
“Go back to your own house.” Remus grumbles, even as he puts his laptop to the side. He really should be working.
“Are your Switch controllers charged?” Remus nods—really, they’re his brothers more than anything, he rarely uses them. He could if he wanted to, he just doesn’t really want to.
“Great.” Fabian hops off his bed. “Let’s go do that.”
He should do his homework. He needs to get this project done, he’s been putting it off for too long, and it’s too extensive and important to wait until the last second. Besides, he doesn’t even like video games.
“I want the blue one.” He says, following behind Fabian.
“Did she tell you she was gonna do it?” He and Fabian are sitting on the kerb in front of their houses. Lily had left Fabian’s an hour ago—thought it’d be wrong not to do it in person. She’d texted him when it was over and Fabian had texted him an hour later asking him to come outside.
“Yesterday,” Remus admits, “didn’t know before that.”
“Did she tell you why?” Fabian asks, staring at the pavement. “She just fed me some of that ‘you’re great, but I just don’t like you in that way’ rubbish that people say when they want to end things but don’t want to tell you why.”
“It’s not rubbish,” Remus frowned, “it’s the truth. It’s what she told me.”
“And you believed it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, seriously.” Fabian rolls his eyes. “It’s that whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing, or ‘it’s not the right time for us’. Like, it feels like they’re trying to let you down gently, but I don’t want to be let down gently. I just want her to give it to me straight.”
“She did give it to you straight.” Remus says.
“She didn’t—you know what, nevermind.” Fabian scoffs. “I don’t know why I’m talking to you about this. It’s not like you’d get it.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” Remus’ stomach twists, he doesn’t know why, it’s not like Fabian said anything wrong.
“Are you still gonna go drop her off at the airport tomorrow?” Remus can’t see his face.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
Fabian doesn’t say anything. Remus knows he messed up somewhere, he just isn’t sure where.
The day Lily and Fabian got together, Remus wrote his fifth and final letter. It had been well overdue by that point.
Fabian had told him months ago he was interested in her, and though Lily never said anything, Remus still knew. It makes sense. They were both outgoing, both snarky, both the only people who could tolerate Remus for more than one class period at a time. Both redheads, if that counted for anything.
(Lily wasn’t a ginger though. Remus had once called her a ginger because he’d mistakenly believed redhead and ginger were interchangeable. He never made that mistake again.)
They’d gotten together near the beginning of the year. Remus had congratulated them, said it was long overdue, dodged all attempts at an after-school hangout under the guise of giving them alone time, and then gone home and sprawled all his feelings down on a powder blue sheet of paper.
The letters had been his parents’ idea. More or less. His mother used to tell him and Romulus how Lyall would mail her anonymous love letters before he worked up the courage to confess. Hope figured out it was him after a while, but she loved the letters too much to say anything.
When they started dating he still wrote her letters that he’d give her to read after each of their dates. It was a tradition that persisted well into their marriage, during anniversaries, holidays, special occasions, or just because Lyall felt it.
He still writes them sometimes, Remus was looking for the house keys and he found a drawer filled with new letters his father had written after his mother passed. They were all folded in powder blue envelopes—Hope’s favourite colour—with the date written on them. Remus never mentioned it to anyone, and he never opened any of the letters, but sometimes he would check and see if there was anything new in there.
His mother memorized the first letter his father wrote. His father used to say he remembered every single letter he ever wrote for her. The only thing he remembers writing down is how Fabian had been the first friend Remus really made. Lily—who he loves and adores and is forever grateful for—was a family friend. Iris and Hope grew up together, it was only natural their children did the same. He didn’t speak to any of the kids from primary, and it's’ not like he was particularly close with any of them. Fabian was the first person who really chose Remus, no strings or extenuating circumstances involved. That’s probably why he fell for him. It’s nice to be picked.
He folded it up, put it in an envelope—powder blue—dated, stamped, and addressed them, and kept them in a little hat box his mother had given him—also powder blue—under his bed.
He’s tried not to dwell on it these past few months, but tonight it’s all he can think about.
I’m gonna call it off with Fabian.
He said goodbye to Lily maybe a half hour ago. Her flight should be boarding soon, but she’ll probably be too busy once she lands to call him.
“You’re not… upset, are you?”
He’s laying on his bed. His ceiling is white and if he stares hard enough he can make out the faint outlines of where the glow in the dark stars and moon used to be.
I don’t know why I’m talking to you about this. It’s not like you’d get it.
He's laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, and all he can think about is the box beneath his bed and the letter that’s been sitting there for months.
It’s just… I like Fabian, I really do, but I just not in the way you’re supposed to like a boyfriend.
I do, some spiteful part of Remus thinks, I like him exactly how you’re supposed to like a boyfriend. I liked him first. By all accounts, he should’ve been mine.
He feels guilty for it immediately. It’s not as if it’s Lily’s fault—hell, Fabian doesn’t even like boys. She didn’t betray him, she didn’t evenknow, and she was well within her rights to date or not date whoever she fancied.
But still, his traitorous mind whispers, I wouldn’t have left. Because I actually liked him. I liked him first.
“Why didn’t we just drive here?” Roman whines. Romulus had promised to take him to get ice cream, but he ended up getting called in to cover a coworker’s shift. Some kind of family emergency. Roman didn’t complain, but Remus had watched him walk around the house pouting for twenty minutes before he volunteered to take Roman himself.
“Because walking is good for you.” He opens the door to the parlour and is hit with a gust of cold air. Roman practically skips inside. “And we’re already here, so stop complaining.”
“You really need to get over this drive-phobia thing you’ve got going on.”
Remus hits him on the shoulder. “You realize I don’t have to buy you anything, right? I could just not pay.”
“That’s theft.” He says, and skips over to the counter. Roman practically sticks his face against the glass protecting the different tubs of ice cream, and Remus has to pull him back.
Remus already knows his order, two scoops of chocolate in a disposable cup—he doesn’t like cones. Roman isn’t sure what he wants, and keeps bouncing from one end of the display case to the other. Usually, the indecisiveness would make Remus anxious and he’d make Roman sit down so as not to hold up the line, but it’s a small parlour and out of the handful of people here they’re the only ones ordering.
Remus is scrolling through his phone when—seven, eight minutes later?—Roman yanks on his arm.
“I want a waffle bowl.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.” Remus repeats, unimpressed. “You have to get three scoops for a waffle cone, that’s way too much sugar. Besides, you’re not gonna finish it.”
“I will!” He says. “Come on, I swear I will.”
“It’s still too much sugar.”
“I got all As on my report this year.” He whines. “C’mon Remy, please.”
Remus sighed. “Alright, fine. But you have to finish all of it.” Roman nodded and held out a hand.
“I want to order.”
“Get me two scoops of chocolate. In a cup, not a cone.” He handed Roman £15 and watched him skip off to the cashier.
I should ask Fabian if he wants something, he thinks.
No. You’ll have to walk home and it’ll melt.
I could buy him a tub.
Are you kidding me?
What? He’s going through a breakup.
“I’m going to go sit down.” He pulls out his mobile to text Fabian and takes about two steps before he crashes into something solid and yelps, dropping his phone.
“Shit—”
“I got it.” The person—cause it was a person he knocked into—kneels down and grabs his phone. Remus' face turns red.
“I am so sorry.”
“It’s alright.” The stranger stands up and hands Remus his phone and oh, that’s not a stranger. That’s Sirius Black. He crashed into Sirius Black.
His face turns even redder and he stammers out another apology, which Sirius waves off.
“I don’t care, seriously.” and then he grins to himself like he just said something funny. Remus—because he can’t think of anything else during this interaction Sirius might’ve found even remotely entertaining—decides he must be laughing at him, and resolves to promptly hightail it out of here.
Except he can’t. Because of Roman.
“That your brother?” Sirius asks, nodding his head behind Remus to where he must be.
“No.” Remus shifts his weight from foot to foot.
“Your cousin, then?”
“No,” Remus shakes his head, “my brother.”
“I just asked you that. ” Sirius frowns at him.
“Sorry,” Remus says, “what?”
“I said I—y’know what, nevermind.” He looks and sounds irritated, and Remus regrets each and every life choice that has brought him to this moment. He’s never leaving his house again.
“So…” Remus begins, because he never knows how to keep his mouth shut. “Do you… come around here often?” He cringes.
That sounds like a bad pickup line. What is wrong with you?!
Sirius snorts. “Sometimes. I’ve never seen you here though.”
“I don’t.” Remus shrugs, then adds, “Come around here… often.”
God, please, stop talking.
Sirius eyes him. “Right, okay.”
“Okay.” Remus says.
“You’re friends with Evans, right?” He asks after an uncomfortably long silence.
Remus deflates a little at that. “Yeah, I am.” Of course Sirius Black only knows him as Lily’s friend.
“Remington, was it?”
Remus chokes. “No,” his voice comes out strained, “Remus. My name’s Remus.”
“Oh. Sorry about that.” Sirius says, although he doesn’t really sound all that sorry. “Though in my defence, you can’t really blame me.”
Yes, I can, Remus wants to yell at him. We went to primary together. We’ve had at least one lesson together for the past four years. We were partnered together for that project in English literature, back in year nine. That’s why I wrote you that stupid letter.
Instead he waves it off. “It’s fine.”
Fucking Remington. God, this guy was such a prick. Remus can’t believe he ever fancied him.
“Yeah, anyways.” Sirius digs his hands into the pocket of his leather jacket. Who wears a leather jacket in this kind of weather? “Evans and Prewett, they still a thing?”
“No.” Remus says instinctively, and then immediately regrets it. It’s not like he was lying but would Lily be okay with him telling Black about it? Oh god, what if he went and told Lily that Remus let it slip about their breakup and she hated him for it. Then again, wouldn’t it be worse to lie and say they were still together? Or maybe Lily wanted people to find out on her own terms? He should call her tonight to explain himself and apologize.
“Oh, that’s great.” Sirius says, and Remus eyes him. “No, not great, sorry,” he backtracks, “Uhh, just… Some of the others are throwing a party tomorrow, y’know, just to get it all out of our system before school starts up again. You and Evans should come. I could—”
“Lily’s in Ireland,” Remus says, “She won’t be back until the day before the term starts.”
“Oh. Well, you should still come,” Sirius says, but Remus knows he’s saying it more to be nice than anything. “I can text you the information.”
“You don’t have my number.” Remus says, and immediately wishes he hadn’t because now it sounds like he’s asking for Sirius’ number.
“I could—”
“I don't want your number!” Remus half-screams.
Sirius stares at him. “Okay.” He says, eventually.
Just then Roman skips over to Remus, holding a waffle cone in one hand and a cup in the other.
“I got three different flavours.” He says, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet.
“Well then,” Remus says, “I’ve gotta get home. Farewell, Mr. Black.” He grabs Roman by his elbow and drags him out of the store before he can protest, not looking back once.
“I don’t want to go home,” Roman whines, “why can’t we eat here.”
“Roman, I will give you a twenty when we get home. I’ll convince dad and Romulus to order pizza for dinner. I’ll let you play on my laptop. I will do literally anything you want, just please co-operate with me right now.”
“Fine,” Roman says, “but we’re getting extra olives.”
“I hate olives.” Remus mutters.
“You said anything I want.”
“I know. I still hate olives though,” he says, “here, give me my ice cream.”
“So, who was that? At the parlour?” Roman asks him when they’re almost home. His ice cream—chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla—is smeared all over his face and hands and staining the front of his shirt. Remus doesn’t know how he’s managed to do that. His waffle bowl has a half-melted puddle of ice cream, sprinkles, and chocolate sauce all mixing together.
“Just someone from school.”
“He goes to Hogwarts too?”
“Yeah. He's in my year though, you wouldn’t know him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Why’re you asking so many questions?” Remus can see their house now. Fabian is out in his front garden—probably tending to the flowers his mother had planted a few months ago.
“Was just wondering.” Roman takes a bite out his waffle bowl, and gets ice cream on his nose. “So what’s his name?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Remus wrinkles his nose. “His name’s Sirius.”
Roman swallows and breaks off another piece of his waffle bowl, dipping it in his ice cream soup like it was a crisp. “Like the word? Like ‘you being serious’?”
“Like the star.”
“There’s a star called ‘Serious’?” Fabian spots them and waves.
“Yeah.” Remus waves back.
“So is he your boyfriend now?”
Remus stops dead in his tracks. Roman takes a few more steps before he notices Remus isn’t beside him, and turns to look at him
“Sorry,” Remus says, “what did you say?”
“I asked if Serious was your boyfriend.”
“Are you taking the piss?” The only thing stopping Remus from yelling hysterically in the middle of the street was that Fabian—who was leaning against the fence separating their houses—would definitely hear him.
“No,” Roman frowns, “why would I be?”
“Why would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know,” Roman says, “you were all weird and blushy when you were talking to him. What was I s’posed to think?”
“You are so stupid,” Remus hisses, “I wasn’t blushing—”
“You’re blushing right now—”
“Shut up!” Remus snaps. “I’m not blushing, I’m… sweating. It’s hot out.”
“Was it also hot in the ice cream parlour?”
“Leave me alone,” Remus groans. “Just… eat your ice cream. And mind your own.”
Roman shrugs, and skips over to where Fabian is standing, just on their side of the fence. “Look what I got,” he says, standing on his tiptoes.
“It’s all melted now,” Remus says, approaching them, “I don’t know what you’re showing him.”
“Oh, Fabian, guess what,” Roman says, “when we were buying ice cream, Remus—”
Remus kicks his leg and Roman yelps. He glares up at Remus who mouths ‘don’t’ at him.
“What happened with Remus?” Fabian asks, looking between the two of them.
“He tripped walking in.” Roman says.
Fabian snorts. “‘Course he did. Hey, how come you didn’t grab anything for me?”
“Oh.” Remus says, having only now realised that in his haste to get away from Sirius, he’d forgotten about buying Fabian a tub. “No point. Would have melted.”
“Brought you back a souvenir.”
“You didn’t have to buy me anything.” Remus frowned but took the bag from Lily.
“Just open it.” Lily huffed, plopping onto her yellow daybed. Remus had been helping her unpack, which really just consisted of Lily haphazardly throwing her stuff around the room until Remus got annoyed enough he took over and did everything for her.
Inside the box was a little ceramic trinket—an old looking ‘book’ on its side, with four other vintage ‘books’ standing atop it, side by side. The four books have a hollow top, and the one on its side has a knob in the centre of its spine.
“It’s a penholder,” Lily says, “The bottom’s for storage.”
Sure enough, Remus pulls on the little knob and the ‘spine’ slides out to reveal a little container.
“You’ve got a whole well of stationery, and I’m sick of all your pens and pencils being in different drawers. It’s driving me bonkers, ‘specially since you’re ‘sposed to be the organized one.”
“It’s not that bad,” Remus rolls his eyes, “thanks though. It’ll go great with everything else on my desk.”
“I would’ve gotten you a mug, but I know you want to get them from places you’ve visited yourself.”
“Nah, don’t worry.” Remus put the penholder down on Lily’s vanity and sat down next to her. “I like it, it’s a sound gift.”
“Wasn’t worried.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “I missed you.”
Remus leaned his head on hers and threw an arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t.”
“Prick.” Lily huffs.
“How was Ireland?”
“Good, I guess.”
“How were your grandparents?”
“Daideo’s memory has gotten worse,” Lily said, “sometimes, he thought I was mum. Tuney was fuming whenever that happened, since she says she looks more like her. But I’ve got mum’s hair and eyes, not like it’s my fault.”
“I think you’ve got your dad’s eyes.” Remus says, “they’re the same shape.”
“Yeah, but his are blue.”
Remus shrugged. “Sure. What about your nan?”
“Oh, don’t get me started.” Lily groaned. “Tuney spent the whole trip whinging about something or the other, and whenever mum and dad told her to just suck it up, she’d take whatever she was upset about out on me. And then mamó would always say ‘oh, Lily, your sister’s going through a hard time, we’ve just got to be a little nicer to her.’ She and mum got into a bit of a spat over it, as you can imagine. God, I feel like such a tosser for saying this, because she’s still my mamó and she’s still very nice and sweet and she loves me and whatnot, but sometimes I really can’t stand to be around her.”
“You’re not a tosser,” Remus rubbed Lily’s arm. “Your nan is, if anything.”
“Remus!”
“What? It’s not like I’m wrong.”
“I’m just glad to be home,” Lily huffed, “and I’m glad school’s starting up again.”
“Don’t talk about school,” Remus said, “I don’t want to think about it.”
“Fine.” Lily paused. “How’s Fabian?”
“He’s… good.”
“Is he?”
“Yeah. I mean, he was when we were hanging out. Why?”
“I don't know,” Lily said, “I was just wondering. He’s still my friend. I think.”
“Have you guys talked at all since you broke up?” Remus asked.
“Nah, neither of us has tried.” Lily frowned. “Though I guess it’s probably more on me to reach out. Or no, is it on him?”
“You think you two will be okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know.” Remus shrugged. “Maybe something to do with how school’s starting up again and you two haven’t spoken to each other once?”
“It’ll all be fine… I don’t know. ” Lily elbowed him. “Stop talking about him now.”
“You’re the one who brought him up.”
“Shut up.”
Remus was a morning person and usually the first to wake, so he got dressed and made breakfast while Romulus was in charge of waking up Roman and getting him dressed. Their father took one of the cars to work and Romulus would drive the other to take the three of them to school. It was their routine, and it worked for them. Romulus wasn’t here anymore. His university was close enough that he could come home on weekends and holidays but far enough he lived there during the week.
When the clock hit 7:50 and Roman still wasn’t down, Remus had gone up to find him still sleeping. He’d had to rush him through getting dressed and breakfast. Roman had complained Remus hadn’t woken him, and Remus told him he should be doing it himself. By the time they made it to the car, Remus was sure they were going to be late. And on his first day too.
“Can’t you drive faster?” Roman grumbled. “There is such a thing as going too far below the speed limit.”
“How about you learn to wake yourself up and we wouldn’t be having this problem?” He suddenly feels very cold all over, which is odd given the current weather.
“If you learned to drive properly we wouldn’t be having this problem.”
“If you just agreed to take the bus like I wanted,” Remus said through gritted teeth, “we wouldn’t be having this problem.” His palms feel sweaty and there's a vague, sinking feeling in his gut.
“I’m not waking up that early just because you have verbophobia.”
“Vehophobia.” Remus corrected. There were two routes to get to Hogwarts—one with the motorway, and one without. Romulus always took the motorway, since it was faster. They’re coming up on the entrance to it now, Remus can see it up ahead. His throat feels a little tight.
Roman’s grumbling about something but Remus can’t make it out. His chest burns and he feels dizzy and nauseous. He tries to breathe but his throat is completely closed off. The edges of his vision go black, and all he can see is the motorway. Roman is still talking, but he can’t hear him over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears like a death march. His hands tighten on the wheel, and his breathing grows more frantic as he tries to force his lungs to fill.
At the last second, he veers sharply to the side—away from the motorway entrance. He keeps driving straight until the traffic thins and he pulls his car off the side of the road. He shuts his eyes and rests his head against the steering wheel. His breathing softens, and his hands are still shaking but the world slowly fades back into focus.
“—was that. Are you alright?” Roman asks.
Remus swallows. “Yeah.” He doesn’t lift his head. “Yeah, just give me a second.”
“You’ve gotta turn the car around.”
“No.” Remus sits up, his head is pounding and he wants nothing more than to just go home, crawl into his bed and never come out. “We’re not taking the motorway.”
“We’re gonna be late—”
“God, would you shut up?!” Remus snaps. “We wouldn’t be late if you had just woken yourself up on time.”
Roman shrinks in his seat. “Romulus always wakes me up—”
“Romulus isn’t here,” Remus yells, “and even if he was, it wouldn’t matter. You have a phone for a reason. Set an alarm—set five alarms, I don’t care, just stop acting like such a fucking child!”
Roman grabs his schoolbag and opens the door of the car.
“What are you doing?” Remus yells after him.
Roman slams the passenger door shut and climbs into the backseat of the car. His arms are folded and his face is turned away from Remus, towards the window of the car. Remus can’t make out his features, but he sees his chin wobble and all the anger drains out of him. It’s really not Roman’s fault, and he had no business taking this out on him.
“Do you wanna get ice cream after school?” He asks. Roman doesn’t look at him, but he shakes his head no. He swallows and his shoulders start to shake.
“Do… you wanna go to Honeydukes?” Roman remains still, and then shakes his head no, wiping at a tear that rolls down his cheek. Remus is the worst person alive.
“I’m sorry—”
“Just drive.” Roman hiccups and then slaps a hand over his mouth.
By the time they get to school it’s 9:05 and they’ve basically missed tutoring period. Remus tries to speak to his brother, but Roman climbs out the car and starts gunning it to his class before he’s even turned the car off.
Since it’s the first day, he doesn’t get any schoolwork. He gets ice breakers instead, which is worse. His classes are all slow, and awkward, and tedious, and he didn’t take any of the same GCSEs as Lily or Fabian, which means he’s well and truly on his own. He meets up with Lily during lunch, but neither of them has seen Fabian all day.
He’s relieved once his last class of the day—english literature—rolls around. He picks a seat in the back, closest to the door. He likes sitting there so he can leave as soon as the bell rings, and so he doesn’t have to walk past and be scrutinized by the others everytime he goes to his seat.
Typically, this is his favourite subject. Typically.
Sirius Black is taking this subject as well, and Remus knows he’s not imagining the way Sirius keeps looking back at him. He knows he made a fool of himself in front of him, but he really doesn’t think it warrants the way Black is eyeing him.
Remus has never been more relieved to be dismissed from school in his life. Or he would be, except the second McGonagall dismisses them, Sirius springs out of his seat and rushes over to Remus’ desk. The other students stare at them curiously. Remus doesn’t like being stared at curiously.
“Right, so, we should talk.” Sirius says.
“We should?” Remus tries not to give mind to the students whispering around them.
“Yeah,” Sirius says, “so, if you could just hang back here for a minute.”
Remus shrugs. “Sure.”
It takes maybe ten minutes total for all the other students to trickle out of the classroom. McGonagall is about to usher them out the door when Sirius asks if they could have the room for a minute, and promises they’ll behave. McGonagall looks unimpressed but allows it.
“For the record,” Sirius begins once the door’s shut, “I don’t go around snogging anything that moves.”
“Um,” Remus blinks, “okay?”
“And I am, in fact, capable of thinking of someone other than myself.”
“I… believe you?” Remus says. “I’m sorry, why’re you telling me all this?”
“Because you’re the one who wrote it.” Sirius scoffs.
“What? Wrote it where?”
“Don’t be daft,” Sirius snaps, “in your letter.”
No, Remus prays to every god he can think of, please, no.
“What letter?” Please be wrong, please be wrong, please be wrong.
Sirius pulls a folded blue envelope out of his schoolbag. The colour is faded, and it’s a bit more crumpled up from when Remus last saw it, but it is undeniably his. He recognizes the little black dog stamp he’d chosen for it, remembers thinking how clever he was.
God isn’t real, Remus decides, right then and there.
“Look, this is…it’s sweet and all.” Sirius says, but everything about him from his tone to his posture conveys that he finds this more irritating than sweet. “I’m flattered, but me and Barty just broke up. We’re in a weird place and—y’know what, it doesn’t matter, I don’t really know what you were hoping to accomplish with this.”
“I wrote those years ago—”
“I know,” Sirius says, “it’s dated. Why you sent it now—”
“I didn’t,” Remus says, “I don’t know how you got that, but it wasn’t me. I don’t really like you at all anymore, so could I just have that back?”
Sirius hesitates. “You’re sure, right? Cause I don’t want—”
“Sirius Black, I really do not like you as a romantic prospect or a person,” Remus says, “so if you could please just give that back. I don’t even remember anything in it.”
“Sure.” Sirius shrugs and hands him the letter. Remus grabs it and shoves it in his schoolbag.
“Please don’t tell anyone about this.”
“I won’t.”
“Not even James.”
Sirius pauses.
“Sirius, please.” Remus says, on the verge of hysterics. “Please, you can’t tell anyone, it would be—”
“Yeah, alright,” Sirius says, “relax, I won’t tell anyone, not even James. Swear.”
“Thank you,” Remus sighs, and makes his way to the door. There’s a few students still lingering in the corridor, either packing up or catching up with their friends.
“So,” Sirius follows behind him, “you really like my eyes.”
“I don’t.” Remus groans, his face burning. “I wasn’t joking when I said I—”
“Hey, isn’t that your friend?”
“Who?” Remus turns and sees Fabian making his way down the corridor, pushing past the throng of students and making a beeline for Remus. He’s holding a blue envelope in one of his hands.
“I thought—”
Remus turns to Sirius. “I’m so sorry.” He says, and then he grabs Sirius’ face and kisses him. Perhaps instinctively, Sirius’ hands come up to Remus’s shoulders, but he doesn’t push him away, he just rests his hands there.
When he was younger, Remus had spent countless hours fantasising about this, imagined snogging him and running his hands through Sirius’ hair and going on dates while they held hands under the table.
The thing about kissing Sirius Black is that it’s…real. Real in a way his pubescent imagination never prepared him for. His skin is soft—much softer than Remus’ own—and he tastes like vanilla. Smells like it too. It’s overpowering, but Remus doesn’t mind.
When they break apart, Sirius is staring up at him wide-eyed and red faced. He didn’t know somebody as pale as Sirius could ever get that red, but Remus thinks it suits him. Sirius blinks, he has long, dark eyelashes and grey eyes, and Remus remembers being obsessed with them just a few short years ago. He could’ve written sonnets about Sirius’ eyes.
He can hear the students around them whispering and it’s only then he remembers that Fabian is a few short steps away, holding a letter, his letter, and the reality of the situation hits him in full force.
“Well, thanks for that.” Remus says, and then he drops Sirius’ face and hightails it out of the corridor. He doesn’t stop until he’s back at the car park, where he spots Roman waiting for him.
“Where have you been—”
“I’m sorry,” Remus says, “I’m sorry, but we have to go. Now.” Roman eyes him but gets in the car.
The second they're home, Remus runs straight into his room and tears it apart. He searches his bed, his closet, his drawers, and he can’t find his hat box anywhere. He spends thirty minutes looking before he gives up and just sits in the middle of his floor.
This isn’t happening, Remus thinks, this is not happening.
“Remus,” Roman calls from his doorframe, “Fabian’s at the door. He wants to talk to you.”
“I’m not here.” Remus says, and then he jumps up, and makes his way to his window.
“Where are you going?” Roman asks.
“I don’t know,” Remus says, crawling out of his window, “just tell him I’m not home.”
He trips on a loose tile, and rolls down the slanted roof of his house, falling into his front garden. It hurts, but it’s not so big of a fall that anything’s broken. Groaning, he grabs his bike and starts pedaling away from his house.
What am I gonna tell Lily?