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Chapter Text

July 7th, 1976

Remus had stolen a couple of his mother’s cigarettes; gold Marlboro’s that she did a very terrible job of hiding in the back of the silverware drawer. One for him, one for Fabian, and one for Gideon.

He knew that Gideon and Fabian had both smoked due to their father—a large man without a hair on his head, standing over six feet and containing muscles Remus would’ve thought impossible if not for seeing the man in person—and his nasty tobacco habits. It was a known fact that Thomas Prewett did not care are at all for keeping his sons from following his footsteps.

Their mother, Layla Prewett (née Palmer) had a silent disagreement upon the matter. Remus could tell by the way she looked at Thomas in distaste whenever he lit up a cigar around the twins and himself, but only regarded silently without any action herself. Remus did not know what to think of smoking. Surely, if his mother did it, it could not be all horrible. She was the light of life itself, and the light could not be smothered by smoke, only improved on. So, naturally, he wanted to try smoking himself.

The three cigarettes burned a hole in his pocket as he left the house, letting the door slam shut as he called a goodbye to his mother, who was cutting up her eggs at the dining room table. Remus had eaten breakfast with her quickly, then left for fear she would ask him to turn out his pockets. (Which had never happened before.)

It was an incredibly short walk to the Prewetts, only taking a minute or so walking at an incredible speed. They were very close neighbors, closer than any other houses around them were, and shared a large paddock, as well three stables, between their houses. The stables inhabited many animals, like cattle and chickens, but Remus cared the most about the horses. There were five of them, two belonging to him and three to the Prewett family. Betsy, the younger mare belonging to Remus, was a stocky quarter horse of just about sixteen hands and the pattern of a dun. She had been a birthday present from the Prewett family, having been born from their mare, Dahlia, just six years prior to his fourteenth birthday. In the six years before Betsy was his, she had taken extremely well with Remus, often following him around curiously when he did his rounds feeding the other animals. She seemed to take humor in nuzzling him and running, stopping when he turned, then resuming when he stooped away. They had formed a friendship that was beyond the barrier of horse and human, able to play like they were one and the same.

And when she had been gifted to Remus at the age of six, Remus was patience in breaking her, never frustrating when she bucked and soothing her when she was angry. Before the year was up, Remus was galloping alongside Gideon and Fabian, outrunning them in fields with a smile on his face.

The other horse owned by the Lupins was a black gelding, named Marcellus, standing a regal seventeen hands and adorned with a sliver of white down his face. His eyes were bright and mane was wavy and shiny, despite being nearly twenty-seven years old. He was a gift from Lyall to Hope in the early years of marriage, but Hope never got around to riding quite as much as Remus liked to.

Remus trudged through the thick summer grass, walking between the paddock fence and the dirt road leading to the Prewett house. He was nearby, not even fifty feet away from their back porch. Remus looked up momentarily from watching his feet shuffle to see Molly Prewett outside, with an easel and paint-splattered green dress with thin straps and lace on the front. It looked much too short, and was likely one that was old and didn’t fit quite right anymore. He waved and smiled jovially and watched as she returned the gesture. When he got closer, in distance where she would be able to hear him, Remus called out a greeting.

“Hello, Remus! Gosh, it’s been awfully hot this summer, hasn’t it?” Molly had sweat dripping from her forehead, and reached to wipe it with the back of her hand, careful to keep the paintbrush away from her skin.

“Damn right it is. Mols, I haven’t seen you much this summer,” he said in a teasing tone, climbing one of the steps to stay at eye-level height with her.

She blushed, which was hardly noticeable for someone that didn’t know her well, due to the heat, and gave a shy smile to herself, taking her lovely brown eyes away from Remus to her painting. She dipped her brush in a dark green and silently added strokes to what was no doubt a landscape, letting the tense silence simmer for a moment. But then the moment passed, as moments tend to do.

“Well, I suppose I have been seeing Arthur a little bit more this summer…Never mind that, Remus! I know you’re not just here to catch up with me,” she said, rather quickly, meeting Remus’ eyes with a vague sort of panic. She set down her brush.

“Ah, so it’s going well?” He smirked suggestively as Molly flushed harder, pulling him by the shirt collar up the next step and pushing him towards the back door. “Molly-“

“No, that’s quite enough, Remus!” She used both her hands to slowly push a begrudging Remus, who was just smiling obliviously and crossing his arms, pushing back against her force. Just as he had moved a couple inches forward, looking back in amusement at Molly’s furrowed face, the screen door slammed open, revealing Gideon in cutoff jean shorts and a band tee.

“Molly, what are you doing to poor Remmy?” He said mockingly, pushing past the both of them as Molly let up, breathing hard and righting herself quickly. Remus was about to say something to her as she went back to her easel when Fabian appeared in the doorway.

Remus lost all words. There was indefinitely something different about Fabian looks from Gideon, Remus had always known that. But this summer he seemed to notice it even more. The way his hair waved in slight disagreement with Gideon’s, the way his eyes were just a shade darker green, the way he did not have as large muscles as Gideon, was not as toned, how he had more freckles on his forehead, ways that Remus was sure no one else noticed except for himself and perhaps their mother.

And Remus would have found it perfectly normal—differences observed by a friend of friends who he’s had for years—if it was not for the pure adoration Remus possessed of Fabian’s’ soul. The way he claimed to hate poetry and reading, calling Remus a nerd, but read Remus’ books anyway, stealing them from his bedroom and returning them with more dog ears and the occasional comment written in pencil in the margins, in Fabian’s uppercase handwriting. Or the way he tended to his sister when their father had rattled off something horrible to her when he was drunk, or when Gideon roughhoused her maybe a little too much, giving her silent looks and touches of the arm that meant he cared, deeply. Or the way that when Remus first met him, he had—

“Remus? Are you okay?” He came to to see Fabian’s furrowed face and drawn together eyebrows. Face flushed, he looked to his feet a moment before gathering his nerve and nodding. Remus snuck a glance towards Molly to see if she had regarded any of his awkwardness, but gratefully she was mixing green and white with a deep-set expression.

Fabian did not look convinced, but he just stumbled past Remus with an increasingly more confused look rather than inquire again, which Remus was thankful for. He didn’t even know what he would say if asked why he was acting the way he was around Fabian.

After a few moments of Fabian walking off alone into the yard, he turned back with a crooked smile and a giddy laugh. “So, Remus! Ya coming or not?”

He found himself involuntarily smiling in a sort of bashful way as he jumped down the porch and followed Fabian. When he was close enough to reach, Fabian wrapped his right arm around Remus, pulling him in for an Indian sunburn. And Remus couldn’t help the sort of emotion that bubbled up inside him—completely bathed in comfort and jubilance, freedom and youth. If asked to describe what his future plans were, he would have smiled stupidly and with ecstasy, answering with a simple, “What future?” and giggling like tomorrow would never come.

And so the boys smoked; up in the loft of the barn, which admittedly, was pretty stupid of them.

Gideon lit up first out of the three of them, smiling slyly and puffing out smoke, leaning coolly back on his arm, looking out at the pale blue of the mid-morning sky.

“Damn, Gid,” Remus said, staring in awe. Fabian snickered and caught eyes with Remus.

“Look like a damned fool, Gid,” Fabian laughed, holding his cigarette up to his mouth. He motioned to Remus, looking away to the same sky Gideon was dead-set on. Remus quickly lit up for him—an unnecessary motion due to Fabian having hands and fingers that worked perfectly fine—but Remus did not complain a bit. He got to watch in reverence as Fabian sucked a little, with little fear of being caught.

And so he was caught. Fabian’s celadon eyes flickered from the sky to Remus’ so obviously admirable expression, and Remus would have been embarrassed if not for the way Fabian blushed.

Remus’ lips parted and he breathed in soft tufts as the tension between them seemed to boil; so much so that Gideon was forgotten altogether until he coughed from the smoke.

As if snapping out a trance, both boys pivoted their heads away from each other, cheeks flushing in shame. Remus swallowed and brought his cigarette to his mouth, lighting it quickly and taking a drag.

“So, boys.” Gideon was always the first to talk after a stretch of silence. “What are we doing today?”

Remus cleared his throat, puffing smoke out and answered, “I’d quite like to go to Little River.”

Both twins groaned at the prospect.

“You always-“

“It’s never anywhere-“

“Fine, fine! We can go wherever the hell y’all wanna go then!” He waved his cigarette around, eyes wandering until they caught Fabian’s, and they caught a slight smirk. It made Remus smile, despite his annoyance.

Fabian gently shouldered Remus, interrupting his incoherent grumblings and blowing smoke in Remus’ face as soon as he looked up. Remus scrunched his nose and closed his eyes tightly as it wafted over him.

“Well, boys,” Gideon said, much a mirror of his earlier tone, “We don’t have all day, do we?”

He smirked extravagantly before sliding down the ladder, running off. Fabian was only a second behind him, and Remus another behind him. The three boys ran through the fields, into the woods, before eventually slowing to a walk beside an old railway, covered in weeds.

All three were breathless—Gideon less so, but still nonetheless—and laughing carelessly. Along the run, Gideon had yelled to call the beginning of a race, which of course he had won. He was the quickest by far out of the three of them, and the only one to ever call for a race. Remus and Fabian knew they stood no chance against his athlete lungs and muscled body. He did a multitude of sports in school, half for the passion and half for the prospect of getting girls which had not worked out much to his favor. From Remus’ perspective, he was the boy who had gotten the farthest in relations with the opposite sex. It was a bronzed girl, Joni Michaels, who lived just about five miles from the Prewett and Lupin farm. She always had her hair perfectly curled—much like Molly’s—but Remus had never seen her adorned with curlers in the six months they had been “dating.” It was as if she had that perfect hair from natures dealings, but Remus knew this was not the truth due to having gone to school with her since they were little. At first, when she had seemingly taken interest in him, he worried about her opinion on his scars. But he never voiced this concern aloud, only assumed that it must not bother her all that much since she had known him as long as he had them and still decided to entertain this relationship with him.

She had deep, understanding brown eyes that someone could melt into, a short bob of much a similar color with bangs for hair, and had a pale orange like blush, which did wonders accompanied with her complexion. She wore large bell bottoms and flowing shirts with psychedelic patterns usually, one of the few girls to do so. Joni enjoyed fashion and radical magazines, enjoyed cutting out the outfits pictures and sewing them together with an ancient machine of a vending machine, a hand-me-down of her grandmother’s. It was to Remus’ understanding that her great-great grandparents had come over from Algeria many years ago, but they had long since passed, and she did not know anything of the country herself.

On their first date, Millie had sewn a beautiful baby blue dress and a matching headband. She wore insanely high heels of the same color that rivaled Remus’ height, and trudged through the dirty roads to get to the diner their date was set to be in, testament to her determination to look stunning. But there was more to Joni than just her appearance.

On his dates with her, which had come about once a month, Remus had unveiled her passion for renewing this knowledge to her family, and her studious endeavors in history. Although he did not understand it much, he listened to Joni’s feverish rantings with a reverence and deep appreciation for her brightness. It seemed that Remus could not offer much back, with what his humble farm life and simplistic view of the world, as she had broken up with him the day after they had made out in Betsy’s stable, claiming she could never imagine a life with Remus. She broke up with him in the beginning of June, Remus’ least favorite time of year.

Remus had briefly been devastated. He did not leave his bed very much except to tend to his animals, and did not read or watch anything for the time he spent alone in his room. His mother worked long shifts at the hospital, never around enough to see the impact on Remus created from Millie Michaels’ rejection. But the Prewett twins had noticed. Remus stopped hanging out with them, as he always did during summer, and they worried. They got Molly to paint a beautiful picture of Betsy grazing in the field, and baked chocolate chip muffins along with their mother’s help. It had snapped Remus out of his daze. Who was he, Remus Lupin, to be upset over a girl? He had never been crazy about them before, why start now?

So for the following weeks, he spent as much time as he could with the Prewetts, doing anything and everything—including stealing shitty things for Gideon—to get his mind off of it. And it worked.

He worked more than he had to with the animals, taking care of most of the Prewetts’ workload before they had even woken up. He spent the late mornings on the porch with Molly while the twins did little tending to their animals, talking to her about whatever the hell happened to be on their minds. Remus had a different, familial connection with her that seemed to transcend blood. And just past noon, the twins would come in from the field to bother Remus, and they would hang out until late at night. It all kept Remus in a routine, tightly knit so that he would never even have time to think about Millie. Which he was doing less and less of anyway, now that summer started.

So, walking along the railroad tracks with the twins nearly a month later, Remus found that he had no cares in the world about romance. Or just girls, he thought shyly, glancing sideways at Fabian balancing on the railroad track, freckled arms outstretched. He was laughing childishly as he nearly lost his footing, to which Remus immediately braced himself for, walking on the flat ground beside the tracks and subsequently, the flailing Fabian.

For a brief moment, Remus felt shame rise within himself. How could he be this way towards another man? He knew it was not right, but made no effort to put distance between them regardless. It was perverted to be thinking so passionately about someone in the way he did.

But he could not stop.

Being around Fabian was nearly addicting. Remus did not fully understand why, only that his morals should override this insignificant personal error as soon as possible. But, he found himself thinking as he followed Fabian dumbly, was it really all that wrong?

His hands guided a fumbling Fabian back onto the rails as his eyes stared into the side of his head—the splattering of freckles, the deep set flush, the slight dampness of his fiery hair from the heat—all of it, openly roamed by Remus’s wandering eyes. 

His hands lingered far too long; a good couple of moments of contact. And Fabian noticed. But rather than laughing and commenting loudly like his brother would have, he smiled softly, turning his head so that his sparkling eyes would meet Remus’. He had a soft smile remaining from his previous laughter, stretched on his pink lips in a way that taunted the other boy. 

“Hey,” Fabian breathed, jumping down from the tracks heavily to be closer to Remus. He  kept the contact, despite how unnecessary it really was. 

“Hey yourself,” Remus replied, breathy and unlike himself. It did not feel like his real voice. 

Fabian gently slid his arms in Remus’ grip, and Remus assumed he was detangling himself from the hold until he moved so that they were nearly holding hands. Just shy of full on, a few fingers of both hands latched together. Remus wasn’t sure if he was properly breathing or not. 

Probably not.

Fabian’s fingers slid to rub small circles on Remus’ and he felt the world tilt on its axis. What the fuck? 

He looked down momentarily at their hands, shielding himself from the intense gaze of Fabian’s eyes, before glancing up again. Fabian opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but Gideon’s teasing tone cut through the tension.

“Y’all slow as Dottie!”

And the regular Fabian look returned—slight mischief and slight boyishness—and the moment was gone. It slipped out Remus’ fingers, just how Fabian was slipping his hands away at the moment. It was as if a light had switched. 

Without taking a moment to properly mourn what might or might not had been happening, Remus flipped his switch along with Fabian, grinning slyly and saying, “Bet you can’t beat me.”

And they were running, pushing each other foolishly, and laughing without worry. The only thought in Remus’ mind was, those thoughts don’t matter as long as I can keep this. 

Chapter Text

June 12th, 1978

Remus didn’t want to fucking be here. In California. With his dad. He never would’ve chose this for himself.

All he wanted was to be back in Virginia, where he could be by himself without people staring. At him, his scars. And it’s not like he could cover them up, through he tried well enough to. There was one on his face.

He knew well that face wasn’t normal. The scar was long, crossing from his right temple, through his eye, and across his nose, ending on the left corner of his lips.

And, because life just hated him so much, he was blind in his right eye. Not to mention it looked different than the normal one. What had he done to deserve this?

While Remus was busy pondering this, his mom was ranting about how good it would be for him to bond with his dad.

His dad had left when he was five, but apparently on good terms. Remus never saw him, and barely even remembered him. Whenever he did remember, it was vague and unsettling. Remus could only think of one good memory—being taught how to ride a horse. And it wasn’t like he was wallowing in self-pity over it. There had never been a longing or desire to know his father; his mother was enough for him. But now she had this stupid trip to France, and all he was left with was mysterious man known as Lyall Lupin. 

“Remus, are you even listening to me?” She scowled. Her fingers tapped in an incoherent rhythm against the steering wheel of her 1964 Ford F100. Her scrutinizing gaze landed on Remus, a place her never wanted to be in.

“Of course.” Remus kept his eyes off of her, favoring to see outside the window instead of his wound-up mother. The hours of time together in the car had not done them good.

“Hm…right. Well, I suppose I can’t force you to like him,” she mumbled, dejected.

Remus turned his head slowly, suddenly feeling miffed at himself for not even entertaining the idea of listening to her. The last year, they had not been very close, and this fact was starting to really catch up on Remus’ mind

“I’m sorry mom,” he sat up straight. “I promise I’ll do my best to get to know him.”

Her face scrunched up. Okay, maybe that was the wrong thing to say. She didn’t like to think about how he didn’t really know his dad all that much. It bothered her when Remus would talk about him like a stranger, which he was, and she expected Remus to pretend like he was still with them, favoring to act like he had just gone out on a business trip or something of the sort. Reality and his mother did not mix very well.

“I mean, I’ll do my best to have fun with him,” He quickly said. This seemed to be the right thing to say, but she tilted her head as if he should add something. He supposed she had been reprimanding him about this mystery addition to the rules, but Remus had been too caught up in his sulking to really pay attention.

“And…and I’ll go outside plenty?” he tried.

Her nose scrunched. “And you’ll make lots of friends, Remus. I don’t want you to be all by yourself,” she said quietly.

Remus looked at his lap, at his fingers that twisted together. “Okay,” he breathed. He didn’t really want to make any other friends than the ones he had, but being hundreds of miles away did not aid this hope of isolation.

“Thank you.”

That was the end of that. After Remus looked back out the window at the planes of flat he wasn’t used to, the radio was turned way up.

Oh, she takes care of herself,
She can wait if she wants,
She’s ahead of her time.

Remus was asleep when they pulled up to his dad’s place. His mother shook him awake, and he took in his new residence for the next two and a half months. It was a brick house with structure as those in the sixties, and was probably built then. There was a skinny concrete walkway and no driveway, so Hope Lupin was parked on the grass. Three steps led to the porch of the house, which was adorned with huge windows. Remus tried not the think about the fact that he liked how the house looked. He didn’t want to like anything about his dad.

He got out the car alongside his mother, carrying the singular duffle bag full of his belongings with him. His mother looked excited, giving him wide eyes while stretching her hands out, just to have something to do with them. Remus stretched his neck from the position he had been sleeping in. Nerves floated around his stomach, and he suddenly that the thought that he would do anything to postpone meeting his dad.

Before he could think of an excuse to force his mother to drive him all the way back to Virginia, a voice boomed. 

“Remmy!”

Looks like he couldn’t put it off any longer.

Quickly, he was scooped into a firm hug, which he tried his best to reciprocate.

His dad pulled away from him, keeping his hands on Remus’ shoulders.

“My boy!” He had darker eyes than Remus, and lighter hair. It was a wheat color and straighter than Remus’. His nose was straight and his skin was tanned, smile wide and seemingly never-ending. Remus didn’t let himself compare their eyes, he knew it would be far off from similar. He had Hope Lupins’ eyes—he had been told by everyone under the sun. “It’s so good to see you!”

Remus nodded. “‘S good to see you too,” He mumbled. Remus watched his mother’s expression become pleased. He had said the right thing.

She mouthed words that Remus had to squint to see.

Thank you.

“Thank you for having me this summer,” Remus said, wide-eyed in anticipation of what reaction this would provoke in his dad. He didn’t know him, didn’t know his mannerisms.

But his father only smiled harder. “Aw, Remmy!” He shook Remus’ shoulders. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I have you?”

Because you left me and mom when I was five to pursue your stupid movie star dream.

Remus only said, “Well, thank you anyway.” He put on a smile, not completely fake, but definitely played up.

Lyall turned to Hope now, and they exchanged a look. “I better show Remmy around,” He said excitedly.

“Alright. Remus, don’t forget those things we talked about.” She wiggled a finger and Remus nodded. “Have fun.”

She pulled him away from his father’s lone hand that was still on his shoulder, and hugged him ferociously. “Be safe, or not,” she whispered in his ear. He lightly chuckled, then pulled away to face his dad.

“So, Remmy. What kind of music do you like?”

This was going to be a long fucking summer.

Chapter Text

June 13th, 1978

It was Tuesday, so of course his dad had work. Not an acting job, like Remus was aware he left to pursue, but a job at the front desk of the bank. Remus couldn’t have found a job more boring.

He didn’t really blame his dad. But deep down there was resentment that had had 17 years to fester in his mind. And Lyall could have changed that if he visited. At all. Or even sent birthday cards. Maybe he forgot his birthday, at this point.

It was strange being stuck in an unknown house in an unknown state on the first day of being there. He had no idea what to do, and was fucking bored. He tried not to snoop around the house too much, opting to turn on the television for some background noise.

But it was one PM, Remus was still in his pajamas, and he was bored. It wasn’t like he had many friends other than the Prewetts to tell about this, so he found a pen and a journal that his mom had sent with him, a i’m-so-sorry-i’m-leaving-you-for-the-summer-to-go-to-a-really-cool-place-and-leaving-you-with-your-asshole-dad gift from his mother. He assumed it was for drawing, as he was decently talented at artistic things.

Instead of drawing, (due to the lack of references; what was he to draw? A microwave?) he wrote. His handwriting was butchered and his hand already hurt after just a couple minutes of writing, which he assumed was due to not writing when being out of school.

Dear diary,

Today I am at my dad’s place in California for the very first time and I am so soooooo excited to be here until Aug. 18!!! can a Journal detect my lame sarcasm??

Remus

He thought for a minute, before adding the date. Without friends, maybe he would make this a normal thing.

After sitting around, laying upside down off the couch and humming songs he liked, and trying his best to not give into his desire to snoop for two whole hours, Remus got fed up. He had to leave the house, as painful as it was to have to try and talk to people outside of his mom, animals, and best friends (Gideon and Fabian Prewett, twins who he had grown up neighbors with. He didn’t see much of their older sister Molly.)

He was dressed in some jeans, a white tee shirt and brown shoes. He tried not to think too much about the fact that people would be able to see the scars on his arms. It was too hot out to wear a long sleeve. Maybe when he gets older he could move somewhere you never have to wear less than five layers at all time. But still, his face. No hiding that.

He wandered through the streets, vaguely concerned he would get lost. But getting lost sure beat being bored inside.

He barely paid attention to where he was going, and didn’t realize he was heading towards a beach until he saw the sign, “Black’s Beach”

Right. His dad lived close to the beach.

Remus walked through the small clearing in the trees, getting sand in his shoes. He didn’t really care.

He had bad experience with beaches. One year when he was fourteen, his mom took him to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. He didn’t understand why they had so far to a place where you can do the same as in their pond, but he sat along for the near-seven hour drive. Apparently it was a special place to his mother because of her and Lyall meeting there when they were young. But being there was horrible. He felt completely and utterly exposed as people stared freely at his lack of shirt, eyes roaming his scars and picking them apart. He had never felt so insecure in his whole life. The only people he felt comfortable taking his shirt off in front of were his mom and the twins.

One more so than the other, on occasion.

But he wasn’t stressed out yet. No one was forcing him to take his clothes off and go swimming in front of hundreds of watching eyes. Judging eyes. He didn’t even see anyone at all on the beach, so he kept walking.

The waves were beautiful. He could barely find the words to describe how free he felt watching the water change, rise and fall, and rise once more.

He sat down, far enough away to not be touched by the waves. And he watched.

Remus didn’t know how long he had been there, just sitting, mesmerized by the salty air and now coloring changing waves. The sunset was beginning.

In the back of his mind, he remembers that his dad would be back by six. It was definitely after six. 

No matter how much I want life to slow down, to stop, it never will. Every day the sunset comes back to sign off the day, and the inevitable happens. Change. Whether I want it or not.

Remus was lost deep in his thoughts when a voice sounded from behind him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

He jumped, coming to a stand and seeing the source of the accented voice.

It was a boy, seemingly around his age, with dark wavy hair and overwhelming blue eyes. They looked amused, along with his smile.

“Jesus. You go sneaking up on people like that often?” Remus was annoyed, but found himself intrigued. Maybe he wouldn’t have to try too hard to have friends here.

The boy slightly squinted and scrunched his nose, but seemed to think better of it and gave a rather expressionless face.

Remus thought he looked like an old painting, but did not speak that thought.

“Remus Lupin.” He didn’t know what else to say, and it was apparent the boy was not leaving.

“Regulus Black,” the boy said, feigning off a small smile. He reached his hand out and Remus shook his hand. It felt rather formal, but he didn’t know exactly what people did in California, so he didn’t question it.

“French?”

Remus sorta hated himself. Why was he so bad at small talk? At any talking? Why did God have to give him a horrible exterior and horrible interior as well?

“Ah, yes. How’d you know?” He put his hands into his pockets. They looked like fitted pants of some kind, and Remus immediately knew he was rich. He had never seen anyone wear pants like that in his life.

“Accent.”

This was horrible. Remus wracked his brain for anything he knew about France, apparently stuck on the subject.

“My mom’s in France right now.” Remus didn’t know if that would be the key to their everlasting (summer) friendship, but he said it anyway. He felt unbelievably awkward. He couldn’t even remember how he’d made friends with the Prewetts anymore.

Regulus didn’t say anything for a moment, and it suddenly left Remus feeling very self conscious. About his body. His face. His eye. His scars.

He shifted under the gaze of intense blue—much the same color as the ocean behind him—and looked off to the side. He crossed his arms and absentmindedly rubbed gently at the scars there.

“How lovely.” Regulus’ tone was anything but.

Remus locked eyes with him and raised his eyebrows. “I guess so,” he said, just shy of a whisper.

“Well, Remus Lupin. Have a nice day.”

And then he was gone. Remus watched him walk off onto the beach, becoming smaller and smaller until Remus couldn’t tell if he was still walking there or not. Regulus didn’t turn back once.

As if snapped out of a trance, he realized the sun was beginning to lower in the sky. He estimated it was almost seven.

This set his body into motion. He ran off the beach, back through the little clearing in trees next to the sign, and onto the street. He couldn’t remember how he got here. Why am I so stupid?

He wandered street after street, going down ones with vaguely familiar names until he finally recognized a house with a pale flamingo in the yard as being on the same street as his dad’s.

He had slowed down to walking in the twenty minutes of wandering, but he sped up when seeing that flamingo. He raced down the street like his life depended on it.

He yanked the house key that his dad entrusted in him the night before, saying “If you live here now, you deserve a key,”

Remus wondered if he would still be living here after sneaking out.

Well. Maybe not sneaking out. He was seventeen and his dad never told him not to leave the house. But his mother always needed to know where he was at all times, so he did his best by assuming Lyall Lupin was the same.

But when he wrenched open the door, he found there was no sign of life inside. Had he raced all the way here for nothing?

He cautiously made his way deeper into the house, passing rooms plunged in darkness. He checked the clock that hung in the living room. It was 8:04. Where the hell was his dad?

His mind raced, thinking of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to him. On the very first day staying with him too! What was he supposed to do if his dad was dead? His mother was all the way in France by now, probably lounging on some beach!

A moment of panic seized him, but then passed. At least he wasn’t in trouble. And it wasn’t very likely his dad was dead. His shoulders sagged in relief, and he briefly wondered what was so wrong with him, what caused his mind to jump to conclusions and panic.

He didn’t mull over it for long, instead his gaze was caught on something in the corner of the living room, just a couple feet from the tv. It was a record player!

How did I not notice this before?

Remus strode over to it, pulling out a little cardboard box with records in it. He flicked through them, looking for something he recognized. He pulled one out, feeling comforted by the familiar cover. It had been a baby shower present from Mrs. Prewett next door. Often times his mother remarked on how music would soothe him to sleep, calm him from angry fits.

So, he put it on. There were moments with nothing but the breeze outside and the crackle of the record before he was plunged into song. He didn’t know how long he had laid down on his back, limbs stretched out.

The last thing he remembered before drifting off were the words, “I am yours, my love, till the end of time. Till the end, till the end, of time.”

And in the fleeting moment before he was pulled under and lulled to sleep, he couldn’t help but think he had never felt more at home.

Chapter Text

June 14th, 1978

There was an annoying sound. Someone was singing.

He clenched his eyes shut even more, trying to block out all light. But it was impossible.

The singing was not singing after all. It was chirping. The birds were chirping.

The other sound he heard was the crackle of the Flamingos record beside him. He squinted his eyes open and sat up slowly, massaging his neck and grimacing. How the hell did he fall asleep here?

Then the prior day came rushing back, and he remembered about his dad. Had he come home?

“Dad?” The name felt unfamiliar in his mouth, but he would have to get used to it. Not that he wanted to.

“Dad?” He called out louder this time. But really, he should have been answered the first time, as the house wasn’t big enough to have to shout.

Remus got up to check the clock in the kitchen, and saw that it was seven in the morning. His head whipped around the house. Had something really happened to his father? Should he start panicking now?

But before he could formulate a plan in his sleep addled mind, the pale blue phone began ringing. He rushed to it, and answered in a rush. He held the phone with both hands, clutching it as if he would drop it any moment.

And he waited. For the police officer to start talking and declare him injured, or dead. He held his breath.

“Rem?”

The voice was slurred and barely made out by Remus.

“Yes? Dad? Are you alright?” He was rapid fire with his speaking. “Where are you?”

“Whoa-whoa! Remmy, you should know bet-better than to yeeeellll at a hungover man!” Lyall chuckled, seemingly out of it. Remus’ concern wavered. He didn’t even know this man. Why would he care that he was hungover.

“Are you alright?” He repeated, voice dropping.

“Yes, Remmy. You know how to take caaaareee of yourselfffffuh…right?” There was a lengthy pause as Remus tried to wrap his brain around what the fuck was happening. He felt like he was parenting his own father.

“Well, Remmy, I’ll see you after work.” There was a giggle in the background. Remus thought he heard a woman say “No, you won’t”, but chalked it up to mishearing things, until Lyall muttered into the phone again. “Or maybe not.”

“W-what about money?” Remus asked. He realized he hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday (which was leftover McDonald’s.)

“Money?”

“Yes, money.”

“For?”

“Food.”

“Oh! Yes, yes!” Lyall was laughing breathlessly, and Remus heard what sounded like lips on skin. He resolved not to think about it, and instead tugged his bottom lip in his teeth, chewing.

“There’s some money in my bedside drawer. Go all out.”

Remus was pissed and anxious. “Ok. Bye.”

“Have a good day, Remmy!”

Remus didn’t think he had been called “Remus” since arriving.

He debated being kind back, telling his father to have a good day. where ever the hell he was, but decided ultimately to just hang up.

So, Remus J. Lupin was stuck across the country from his home, with no one to talk to and nothing to do.

The first two hours were mindless. Going through random books on his dad’s bookshelf, getting halfway through the first chapter and going onto the next. The house wasn’t very well air conditioned, and he could feel yesterday’s jeans starting to feel uncomfortable, and his t-shirt was damp with sweat. So as he got to the fifth book’s page fifteen, he called it quits and got ready.

The bathroom was cramped. He had to duck to get under the doorframe, and he couldn’t even see his whole face in the bathroom mirror. He brushed his teeth while looking at a damp spot on the ceiling, the sound of a crackling record droning on slowly in the background.

He couldn’t get his mind off that boy he saw yesterday. The exact color of blue was haunting his thoughts. He had never seen someone as…well, pretty as the boy on the beach. Sure, he found people attractive, but never pretty.

While he rinsed his toothbrush, his mind wandered. He missed his friends, Fabian especially. He even missed Molly, though they didn’t talk much. He wondered his Fabian would answer if he called.

Five minutes later, he’s fully dressed standing by the phone, fingers dialing with muscle memory.

The ringing is making him anxious. After the last time him and Fabian were together, Remus wouldn’t expect Fabian to even want to talk to him.

“Hello?”

It was Molly. Remus is stunned for a second, but quickly recovers, clearing his throat and swallowing.

“Hey, Molly!” His voice sounds excited, but in actuality he’s nervous.

“Remus! Ah, we’ve missed you here. Not the same without you keeping Gid in check, is it?” Molly laughs easily and Remus nervously chuckles.

“I’ve missed you too, Molly.” There’s a silence where Remus just smiles into the phone. “Is Fabian around?”

“Yes, actually-“ There’s some shuffling and Remus hears voices in the back.

He waits patiently as Fabian gets hold of the phone, and cracks his knuckles nervously, holding the phone up to his face with his shoulder.

“Remus?”

“Fabian.”

“How’s California? Any tanned supermodel girls trailing you around yet?” Remus can hear the amusement in his voice. He laughs unexpectedly, which comes out more as a small yell.

“Nah, not yet. Expecting them any day now, really,” Remus puts his hands back on the phone, spinning around so his back is against the wall. He bites his lip. “How’s Betsy? Eating well?”

“Yeah, she’s doing good. Gid rode her down Smith’s trail the other day, she was all excited. Y’know how she gets.”

Remus hums in acknowledgment and looks down at his socked feet.

“Look, Fabian-“

“Remus.”

“I just want to talk about-“

“Not now,” Fabian says firmly. Remus knows it means something serious, so he shuts up and nods. Which is stupid, it’s not like Fabian can even see it.

“Okay,” Remus says softly. “But we have to-“

“Remus, I’m being serious. Everyone’s in the house right now, and I-“

“Okay, I get it.” Remus can’t help but feel hurt over how swiftly he dismissed him. He closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath to stop his watering eyes. “Is Gid there? Can I talk to him?”

“He just left.” There’s a tense silence. “Look, I gotta go, Remus. Go find you a supermodel.”

It’s a weak attempt to mend whatever has wounded their once strong relationship, but Remus smiles anyway. “See ya.”

Fabian doesn’t even say bye.

Remus briefly thinks about trying to find that journal he started writing in, just to get some of the things he’s feeling out, but instead thinks about that money in his dad’s bedside table.

He hangs the phone on its hook and nearly runs to his dad’s room. He quickly puts the books back on the shelf, disregarding the fact at least one is out back upside down, and goes to the bedside drawer. Inside is two hundred dollars. Good enough to get some food, right?

If it was his mom’s money, he would take a twenty and leave the rest. This is not his mom’s money.

He quickly finds his shoes and keys and leaves the house. The feeling of home from last night has dissipated into a feeling of resentment. The phone call with Fabian had done no good.

His wandering feet lead him back to the beach. He can’t help but stand there, socks and shoes in his right hand, watching the waves. It’s hot as hell outside, and Remus is already sweating in his jean shorts and tank top. There’s a few people out on the beach, but not many and not any close enough to see his face.

Remus likes how he’s able to taste the salt in the air. He takes a deep breath. He tries not to think about Fabian. Or his dad.

“Remus, is that you?”

The familiar voice hits him from behind. He turns his head and squints through the afternoon sun to make out the features of Regulus Black.

“French man.”

Regulus gives a small smile with no teeth. “Weird seeing you again.”

Remus notices how he doesn’t say nice or fancy. He tries not to think about it too much as he gathers his response.

“Well, don’t know much else except the beach.”

Regulus walks closer and stands beside Remus. He pushes his lips together and keeps the small smile on his face. Remus turns to fully face him.

“Did you just move here?” Regulus asks conversationally.

“For the summer. I’m living with my dad,” Remus feels nervous talking to someone new. He can tell Regulus is curious about his scars, his eye. He bites his lip and turns his head to look out at the sea.

“While your mom goes to France?”

His heart skips a beat. His face lights up a little as he turns his head slowly back to meet Regulus’ eyes. A stupid open-mouthed smile works its way onto his face.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. He suddenly gains awareness at how uncool he’s being, and schools his expression into something more controlled. “How about you?”

“Staying with a friend.”

Suddenly, hands are on Regulus’ shoulders. Regulus jolts forward at the impact of another person jumping on him. His face looks exasperated.

“Reggie! What are you doing here?”

Regulus brushes the other man off with an annoyed roll of the shoulders, and the other man takes his hands away before putting them back. He doesn’t even see Remus yet.

Remus’ eyes go wide and he gulps. The man is truly something else. His hair comes to his shoulders in gentle dark waves, and his eyes are a pale grey surrounded by dark, prominent lashes. Remus can see the resemblance to Regulus immediately, but there’s something so different about him. His eyebrows are darker. He has more freckles, more of a blush. He has a mole on his face, right below his eye. Remus could name a hundred things he noticed about this mysterious man at first sight.

Jesusfuckingchrist.

The man settles down, and he notices Remus. Remus suddenly is hyper aware of every single scar, every pimple, pore, and mistake on his fucking body. He’s aware as his eyes rake his eyes. His eye. Remus can only look him in the eyes for so long before he has the feeling of being burned.

He replaces grey eyes with bright blue sky, waiting for the inevitable disgusted comments.

“Who is this?”

“Sirius, be civil please.”

Remus has the strength to look back down. The man, Sirius, has taken his hands away from Regulus’ shoulders, and they are lying by his sides. Sirius straightens up. Remus notices that he’s slightly taller than Regulus.

“Um…Hi?”

“Sirius, this is Remus Lupin.” Regulus gestures to Remus, speaking as if Remus hasn’t, and Remus bites his cheek, adjusting his grip on his shoes. “Remus, this is Sirius Black. My older brother.”

Sirius smiles nervously, then sticks out a hand. Remus shakes it, and it’s much different than the one with Regulus. He barely has a grip, and it’s over within a second. Remus can’t help but think it has something to do with the way he looks.

“Nice to meet you, Remus,” Sirius says politely. His accent is less prominent, and his vowels are more American than Regulus’.

“Um, nice to meet you too. Sirius.”

Regulus seems incredibly bored for some reason, and turns his head to Sirius. “Why are you here?”

“Damn, can’t a guy want to talk to his brother?” The silence after is filled by the sound of the ocean.

Regulus just stares, with a look that tells Remus that Sirius annoys him on a daily basis.

“Okay, I wanted to get you back because James got the girls to come over tonight. And…we need alcohol. Obviously.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Just use James’ parent’s liquor cabinet.”

Remus is feeling a little put out at the easy flow of conversation between the two. Who the hell is James?

“His parents don’t have vodka,” Sirius says stubbornly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Remus shuffles and darts his eyes back to Sirius. They’ve been following between the two the whole conversation.

“Pourquoi diable avons-nous besoin de vodka, Sirius?” Remus is definitely lost now.

Sirius groans and rubs his hands over his face. The wind picks up and blows his hair in his face.

“You know it’s my favorite!” Sirius whines after emerging from his hands. “You like vodka, right Remus?” Sirius’ eyes are suddenly piercing into Remus, and he sharply inhales at the attention.

“Um…Yeah,” he says, nodding dumbly. Sirius seems to take this well, and finally takes his gaze off of Remus.

“See?” He brandishes a hand towards Remus. Regulus looks between Sirius and Remus in contemplation.

“And how are you planning on getting this vodka?”

Sirius smiles, all teeth. “A little criminal activity?”

Regulus’ eyebrows raise and disappear into his hair. Sirius keeps the same smile, unrelenting.

“I could help.”

Remus isn’t sure where the sudden confidence came from, but it only wavers slightly when both brother’s heads whip to him. Regulus is standing with one hand on a cocked hip, expression unbelieving, and Sirius’ jaw is dropped slightly, eyes wide.

“I could help steal vodka.” He says it half to convince himself. “I’ve stolen before,” Remus says plainly. It’s true. The first time was when Gideon wanted to steal a porn magazine from some random shop. A couple other times with Fabian, or Gideon, or both, just small things.

Sirius breaks the silence first.

“Well, Remus, let’s get on the road.”

Chapter Text

This was nothing like Remus had known before. Convertibles were whizzing past him down the street, people were absolutely everywhere. There was building after building, with little trees to provide shade from the mid-afternoon sun. Remus suddenly remembered the money in his pocket after seeing someone eye him curiously.

He followed blindly behind Regulus and Sirius, with Sirius occasionally looking back and smiling. It was a toothy grin, full of something wicked. Remus just averted his eyes whenever it was directed towards him.

And averting his eyes gave him a salubrious view of the beach; waves glistening, people surfing and lying about, playing volleyball or some other game Remus had no inquisitions about.  Large, fluffy clouds painted the vast blue sky, which was granted with a smooth ombré from the seashore and beyond. It was a sight Remus could only imagine on a rainy day in Virginia, something so very pleasant that it implemented something in his soul to feel a sense of belonging. It was incomparable and incomprehensible to a Remus from just a few days prior.

While waxing poetics about the picturesque scene in front of him, he had nearly forgotten why he was here. A brutal reminder came in the form of slamming into Sirius’ back, as he had stopped in front of the liquor store.

He quickly regained his composure as Sirius smiled devilishly at him, chuckling slightly. Regulus was pointedly avoiding them, pulling out some foreign kind of cigarettes Remus had never seen before.

“Distracted, Lupin?”

Remus huffed and rolled his eyes. “Shut up. And why are you using my last name? It’s weird.” He could feel his face heating up as Sirius’s pale eyes stared into his own.

Sirius opened his mouth to say what Remus was sure was an incredible jab when Regulus cleared his throat loudly. Remus’s vision shifted to accommodate the other Black brother. Regulus was standing there, arms folded, with a long white cigarette between the fingers of his right hand. Smoke was rising in the air above him as he raised his eyebrows.

“Get the shit, Lupin,” he said expectantly. Smoke came out his nostrils as he looked Remus up and down. It intimidated Remus to have someone look at him in such a scrutinizing manner.

He looked back at Sirius, who was smiling in a more mute way now, and back to Regulus. He sighed. “Alright. I’ll be in and out real quick.”

He shuffled past Sirius and the smaller Black, and was opening the glass door to the store when Sirius yelled, “Better be!”

He turned, gave him a head nod, and went in. The bell rang as the door swung shut behind him.

The store was huge. He had never seen a store have isles and isles of liquor before.

He quickly found his way to the vodka and did his best picking out what he wanted. Nothing too expensive. Nothing inherently cheap. Big enough for all three of them. And whatever girls they had mentioned.

He suddenly remembered that he didn’t have his fake ID. God, I’m so stupid! How could I agree to this without having a fucking plan?

So, he made his way up to the checkout and was greeted enthusiastically by a pretty girl of what looked to be Korean descent.

“Find everything today?” She asked brightly, putting numbers into a calculator beside her. She was chewing something, probably gum. When she popped it, it became clear that it was cherry bubblegum. He could smell the strong artificiality of it.

“Yes, thank you,” he said agreeably, leaning his forearms on the counter. His eyes wandered as she counted money he had put down. Outside, he saw Regulus and Sirius standing around, leaning on a brick wall. Sirius was excitedly explaining something, cigarette burning down to ash, while Regulus smoked leisurely, legs crossed. Remus saw the exact moment the cigarette was done for and burnt Sirius’s hand. He yelped and dropped it, wiping his hand on the front of his t-shirt, which Remus read “The Stooges.” Regulus was shaking with laughter as he took his next drag, which made Sirius frown even more. Remus unconsciously smiled at the sight, biting his lip to try and keep it down.

“You got a girl?”

He snapped his head away from the window to look at the cashier. Her dark, ember eyes were focused on him.

“Me?” Remus looked down at himself, his stained white tank top, his scars, his awkward demeanor. He straightened up.

She smiled even wider than before. “Yes, you, silly! Who else would I be talking to?” She gestured around the store, where it was completely empty.

“Oh, uh…” He thought about back at home. With Fabian.

“No,” he decided, smiling politely.

“Well…” the girl said, planting her hands on the counter and leaning closer to him. Remus licked his lips as she moved her face inches from his, angling his head down to look her in her eyes. “I’m not trying to be too forward, or anything, but-“

The door slammed open and she shrunk back.

“Lupin! What the bloody fuck’s taking so long?” Sirius near-yelled.

Remus looked at the girl’s face change from an emotion of flirtation to one of discontent and boredom.

“Sirius, you know him?” she asked.

Remus turned to see Sirius behind him a few feet, hair looking more disheveled than just a few minutes ago, and a look of disbelief on his face.

“Em, are you seriously flirting the new guy while you’re at work?” He crossed his arms petulantly.

“I didn’t know he was the ‘new guy’!” She exclaimed, using her fingers to add quotations.

“God, Em!” Sirius yelled, rubbing his temples with his finger pads.

“You didn’t even tell me there was a new guy!” Em exclaimed, throwing up her hands in frustration.

Sirius worked his jaw, hands on his hips. Remus felt awkward just standing there, so he grabbed the vodka and leftover change, stuffing the cash in his pocket. Sirius seemed to realize at this moment that Remus was just standing there while they were arguing, and looked at Remus for the first time.

“Sorry, Remus. I’ll be outside,” He said curtly, giving a nod to himself, staring at his shoes, before stalking off and announcing his departure with the shrill ring of the bell.

Once he was gone, Remus awkwardly looked back at Em, trying to smile in a way that seemed pleasant.

Em seemed to like his attempt well enough, and a pretty cerise blush rose to the middle of her cheeks as she smiled shyly back at him.

“I’m truly sorry about him, he’s a right dick,” she said softly, no real malice in her words.

“Maybe. I just met him today,” Remus said, placing the bottle back on the counter with a dull thud.

“Really?” Em asked, eyes growing surprised. She blew a bubble and fiddled with one of her silver hoops. “Are they making you get alcohol for the party tonight?”

Party? Remus nodded, districted. He recognized a song that was faintly playing over the radio, and softly hummed along under his breath.

Well I’m not dumb, but I can’t understand

Why she walks like a woman and talks like a man

Oh, my Lola

Em made a disgusted face. “And you’re letting Sirius Black make you do that? Have a little self-respect.”

Remus gaped a little at her before chuckled, finding himself amused at the girls blunt nature.

“I-I just realized,” Remus said, smiling widely. “You never told me your name?” It wasn’t intended to be a question, but he almost made it one with the way he was uncertain about what he was doing. Trying to flirt? He had never tried that before. There was virtually no one to even do that with back in Virginia.

His mind supplies him images of Fabian that are shut down quickly. A lovely girl is stood in front of him, this is no place for wallowing.

Em responds well to the insolently half-muttered attempt, and smiles wide, revealing her slightly crooked teeth on the bottom and how she started chewing her gum more aggressively. “I’m Emmeline Vance. And you are?”

She’s shaking his hand, which Remus finds weird, but goes along with anyway. Unlike Sirius, she grips tightly and places her opposite hand on top of Remus’ arm, making it last much longer than needed. Remus find himself unconsciously moving into her grasp.

“Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“Oh, well, alright, Bond, James Bond, nice to meet you too.”

She lets go and brushes her bangs away from her eyes in almost a nervous manner. “I expect I’ll be seeing you tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says around a grin, picking the vodka bottle back up and holding it by the top. “See ya, Emmeline Vance.”

As Remus opens the door to leave, he hears the call of “See you, Remus Lupin!”

Outside, Regulus is still smoking, probably on his third. Sirius was sitting on the ground with his knees folded and bent against his chest, digging his nails into the denim of his jeans. Remus approached them, raising the bottle in conformation of a successful liquor store run.

“Excellent,” Regulus said around the puff of his cigarette. He didn’t look like he was sweating, despite the Californian heat and his black turtleneck sweater combined. “How’d you do it?”

“Just bought it, no need for anything too illegal.” Sirius stood up and made eye contact with Remus for the first time, reaching to take the bottle from him. Remus let it go willingly, following Sirius’s gaze to the label. Somewhere inside of him desperately hoped he got it right.

“This should do the trick,” He muttered, rolling the bottle over in his hands. “Now, we gotta get to Jamie’s before a cop tries us.” His eyes reached Remus’, and Remus nodded.

He realizes the sun is getting lower in the sky. Remus thinks about his dad, about the phone call this morning. Surely he’d be okay to have some fun tonight, right?

“Remus, do you have anywhere to be?” It’s Regulus’ grounding voice, lulling him away from overthinking.

“Nope.”

“Good, because you have shit to do,” Sirius says from his left, winking and walking away. Remus has no choice but to follow.

Chapter Text

Sirius set an intense pace, so much so that Remus was tripping over his feet to keep up. Regulus maintained a steady walk behind them, hands in the pockets of his ironed dress pants.

“Sirius, slow down.”

“Why?” He grinned. “Can’t keep up?” And he proceeded to walk even faster. Remus thanked the lord for his long legs.

“So,” Sirius said after a few minutes. Remus glanced at him sideways. Sirius had slowed down a little, seemingly being out of breath. Was the walking just to torture me? “Emmeline.”

Remus blushed without even trying. “What about Emmeline?”

Sirius licked his lips. “Seemed like she was pretty into you.”

“Maybe.” He looked at the side profile of Sirius, taking in the straightness of his nose, the cracked texture of his lips, his haughty chin. “I don’t really know what she’s looking for from me, though.”

Sirius finally gave him a glance. They walked leisurely, the sound of gravel coming from their footsteps. Remus could hear Regulus’ not too far from them. For a moment they just stared at each other. Alarm bells went off in Remus’ head: this was too much attention on his face. He turned his head down, away from the iciness of Sirius’s eyes, and looked at his shoes. Ragged, dirty shoes.

“Probably to be with you. You know. Dating,” Sirius said softly, turning his eyes down to his shoes as well.

“Maybe.” He thought about Fabian, 40 hours away surrounded by miles of farmland. He thought about his old life, not even a couple days ago. That version of him never thought that coming to California meant girls would like him and people like Sirius would talk to him.

Suddenly Sirius stopped, and Remus thought he had said something wrong before he realized they were apparently at their destination.

“Holy shit.”

It was an absolutely huge house, completely surrounded by trees and sand and plants. He had never seen anything like it, ever.

“You will get used to it,” Regulus said, walking past Remus’ left.

He suddenly realized that his jaw was dropped, and shut it with a clank of his teeth. Sirius was looking at him amusedly, shaking his head and walking away.

“What!” He threw his hands up.

“Nothing,” Sirius said, sliding away and following Regulus’ path to the front door of the house. Remus stared after him dumbly before setting his feet in motion.

The inside of the house was somehow even more impressive than the outside. Tall, seemingly endless ceilings and halls, rugs with insanely intricate designs, and art covered every surface. As he followed Sirius’ booming footsteps, he vaguely wondered if he could actually get lost with how many different rooms they went through.

“Don’t stare, Lupin. James’ll start to think you’re impressed. It’ll get to his head,” Sirius spoke, still walking miles ahead of Remus. Remus didn’t even know how Sirius had seen him staring. Did he sense it?

“Not my fault there’s so many fucking rooms.” Sirius’ laughter bounced off the walls and landed in Remus’ ears. He tried his best to keep up, performing a half jog.

Sirius suddenly stopped and caused Remus to jolt, trying and failing to stop himself from falling into Sirius. Not for the first time that day, too.

“Easy, Remus.” Sirius was beaming, hands on his hips.

“Oh, so I’m Remus now?” Remus teased, a smirk falling on his lips. He studied Sirius’ face: no blemishes, seemingly completely soft and blank, and…was that eyeliner?

Sirius’ roseate lips were moving, but Remus was distracted. Did men wear eyeliner in California?

“What?” He blurted, suddenly feeling something nauseated and wetting his lips.

Sirius smiled and chuckled, eyes shutting lightly and shaking his head ever so slightly. “I said we need to go get James. And Regulus, I suppose. Who knows where that fucker got off to.”

Then he was gone, leaving Remus with a flushed face and a dry mouth. He had no choice but to follow Sirius up the stairs.

Sirius turned into the first room on the left. The doorway was circular with pretty engravings on the top. The door was wide open, propped open with a pair of huge weights.

James’ room was insanely big. Covered in paintings and posters of bands like Beach Boys, which Remus found laughably stereotypical. He had a giant record player at the front of his room, along with what looked like a brand new T.V. playing some movie with men yelling on a boat. Remus kept his hands to hisself, stepping around piles of dirty clothes to follow Sirius.

Sirius took deep inhale. “Jamie!” he bellowed, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“In the bathroom!” A voice yelled from afar. Sirius turned to Remus with an amused grin which Remus stared blankly at. He turned and jogged across the room to what Remus assumed was the bathroom. With Sirius gone, Remus had a chance to look at the room more closely. His bed was huge, probably a California king, and had a deep maroon duvet spread across it, as well as several ugly knitted blankets of all different colors thrown wildly across the bed. There were probably more than a dozen pillows, all varying in shape, that were covered in the same maroon color, except they all had some kind of designs embroidered onto them. The smallest pillow, in the middle, bared the initials J.F.P.

“Remus!” called Sirius.

“Coming!”

He stepped gingerly to where Sirius had disappeared and peaked in. He was met with two pairs of eyes staring at him, Sirius’ icy ones, and a pair of dark brown.

“You must be James,” Remus says, a little timidly.

“And you, Remus?” His smile was pearly white and straight. He had dimples. “Thanks for getting ol’ Sirius that vodka he asked for.” His accent was miles more American than Regulus’ or even Sirius’, and his skin was much darker. His hair was nearly black, and came in a mess of ringlets and waves.

“Of course.”

At this moment, Remus noticed he did not have a shirt on. He avoided eye contact with his pierced nipples and muscled torso, instead placing his eyes on the fully dressed man in the room.

Sirius did not meet his eyes. “So, when are the girls getting here?” It was addressed towards James. Remus stood awkwardly in the doorway of the bathroom, eyes wandering around the endless walls and ceilings of the place.

“Marly said she’s getting her brothers car and driving them all over at 7.” He reached for his comb and began to run it through his hair, only succeeding in making it more messy.

“That gives us, what? Thirty minutes?” Sirius said, eyes bulging in disbelief.

James looked back at Sirius with a lazy grin. He kept combing his hair and Remus grimaced with each pass it made. “Go get your shit on, lover boy,” He said to Sirius, drawing out the last two words dramatically.

Lover boy?

“Lover boy?” Remus accidentally voiced. It made James snort.

“Yeah. Him and Emm-,”

Suddenly, Sirius strangled James, slapping his palm over his mouth and pulling his arm around his neck. James made a muffled sound before biting Sirius’ palm, causing him to shriek loudly and yank himself away.

“Maybe, I didn’t want the new boy knowing all my fucking business!” Sirius exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air and dramatically sighing. His hands came to rest on his hips as he stared at the floor, clicking his tongue against his teeth. James went back to combing his hair, reaching for a jar of what Remus assumed was hair gel, like the main character from some romance movie his mother probably owned. His mother kept all kinds of sickening movies around the house, and while Remus pretended to detest when Hope put them on, he secretly was enveloped in every second of it, entranced with every will they, won’t they.

Suddenly, Remus comes back to himself to find Sirius’ eyes boring into his face. “Remus, I’m sorry.” The way he pronounced his s was just slightly French, and Remus liked it. “I’ve kind of dragged you everywhere with me today, and yelled at you, and made fun of you a whole lot. I swear, I didn’t mean to-“

“You made fun of me?” His voice works of its own accord. He couldn’t remember a time when Sirius had specially made fun of him.

“Oh, well maybe that part was in my head-“

Remus shook his head, biting off a smile.

“The point! Is that I am sorry. I was taught to be better than this.”

At this, James freezes. Remus isn’t sure why, and chooses to ignore it. Eventually James’ fingers continue slicking his hair back.

“It’s ok, really. It’s been quite the day. Better than if I would’ve stayed at home, let me tell you that.”

An endearing sort of look falls upon Sirius’ smiling face, and Remus isn’t sure what to do at the receiving end of its affect. He avoids eye contact, instead landing his eyes on James.

“So, James, are you from here?” A devilish smirk is shared between Sirius and James, the nature of which Remus isn’t privy to.

“Not exactly,” James says, making eye contact with Remus in the mirror. “I grew up in California, then moved to France when I was about eight years old. We moved to England for a year when I was twelve, but it wasn’t very pleasant so we moved back to France. That’s where I met Sirius and Regulus. At school.”

“Ah, that makes sense. So, you moved back to California? Is this your house?” He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms.

“Ha. No,” James says jovially. “My parent’s second home. We come here for the summers, but they are having a trip to the Appalachian mountains right now. Staying in some cabin, claiming it to be a peace retreat or some shit like that. They’ll be back on the eighteenth.”

Long time to leave your children alone, Remus thinks. He wonders about how Sirius’ parents trust him and his brother enough to send them to be alone on the other side of the world, but remembers about his own mother leaving him with the sorry excuse he has for a dad, and doesn’t say anything.

“Oh ok. Is their first home in France?”

“Yes, yes. In Lyon. Sirius only lives about ten minutes back home.”

Sirius claps his hands, pupils wide. “Alright, enough France talk. Where’s your criminal shit, Potter?”

“My criminal shit?” His eyes bugged as Sirius rolled his own.

“Your alcohol, James,” he drawled, voice dripping in sarcasm.

James whipped around, back facing the mirror. “Don’t use that attitude with me!” But he was smiling. Sirius took off, a wild look in his eyes and his hair billowing behind him.

“Come make me!”

And James was gone too, leaving Remus alone in the vastness and unknown of James’ room. Without much time to mull over the events that had just occurred, a shrill ringing reached Remus’ ears. He scanned the distressed room and his eyes landed finally on the bright red wall phone. James had a phone in his room.

Hesitating slightly, Remus blinked rapidly and cast his sight around the room in a disordered way. When his search came fruitless, he marched forward across the room to the phone. He slowly took it off the receiver—as if it would grow legs and walk away if he was too hasty—and greeted the mystery person.

“Hello? Potter residence?” His voice sounded out of sorts to even himself.

“Hello? James?” It was definitely a girls’ voice, but it was deeper than most and carried a sort of masculinity that was not unlike some girls back at home.

“Uh, no. He was just…here, let me find him.” He allowed the phone slack and covered the mouthpiece before yelling out James’ name. A loud bang, and then tussling of clothes and the thump of footsteps. They must not have gone very far.

“Yes?” James appeared, breathless, in his own doorway. His cheeks were flushed a deep maroon and his hair was definitely messed up from his poor attempt at school it. His glasses lay crooked against his face, and he was missing a sock.

“Someone called,” Remus said after taking inventory of James’ disheveled appearance. He heard the unmistakable sound of more footsteps coming closer; probably Sirius.

“Who?” James said incredulously, smoothing his hair (or at least trying to) with the palm of his left hand. His other came to rest against the door frame.

Remus furrowed his brows and felt a small smirk pile onto his face. He scoffed and shrugged.

“How’d you expect me to know?” He said as Sirius came sliding in, directly hitting James in the back. They toppled and Remus watched with half amusement and half terror as they wrestled for a moment before James was pinned.

Sirius smiled up at Remus like a dog who had caught something for its owner, his impossible sharp canines seeming to overtake his whole expression of unadulterated glee. Remus was smiling back before he even tried to.

He was snapped out of it by rather loud words from over the phone, which caused him to flinch away and drop the phone, cursing. When he picked it back up from where it dangled, Sirius was looking at him and laughing, and Remus felt himself flush against the steel-like gaze of the other boy.

James did not even acknowledge the falter. “Remus, who is it?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I told ya already—“

“It’s MARLENE! Tell him it’s fucking-Charlie, wait!” And the line went dead.

Sirius smirked down at James. “Think it was Marlene.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus said. Sirius whipped his head around. “How’d you come to that conclusion? Was it from her screaming it in my ear?”

And Sirius was laughing, which meant James was laughing, and Remus felt a little bit better about himself, being in a completely foreign house with unknown people.

They clambered up and James took the phone from Remus, dialing her back as he fought the last few chuckles. He and Sirius were left with pleased smiles, crinkly eyed and sweet. Regulus appeared in the doorway, looking like an omen in all dark colors. It was insane how off-putting he looked in James’ space.

”What are you idiots laughing about?” He said, scowling and crossing his arms.

“Nothing,” Sirius smirked and walked towards the doorway, ruffling Regulus’ as said boy scowled menacingly. Remus had to fight off a laugh as it happened, watching silently with a bitten lip as Sirius mumbled an excuse me to his brother to exit the room, leaving his brother with an even more intense disgusted expression. 

“C’mon then, Remus,” Sirius said, unstopping. Remus didn’t know what he was being called for, but sure as hell didn’t want to have to guess and get lost. 

He mouthed a sorry to James, who shrugged it off, as he left the room. Trailing after Sirius, who seemed to walk at an inhuman speed, he questioned where they were going. 

“To set up the basement, Remus,” he said without sparing a glance at him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

”Why the fuck are we hanging out in the basement if James has this whole fucking house to his self?” Remus muttered, not really expecting an answer but getting one nonetheless. 

“‘Cause that’s where his skating rink is. We wanna skate.”

”Of course. How silly of me to forget.” He was half-amused, half-annoyed by the nonchalance Sirius carried. It bothered him in a strange way that Remus was yet to work out completely. “Is everyone you know rich?”

Sirius scoffed. “James is barely rich. New-money at best, it’s all his parents.” 

They were rapidly going down the main staircase, and Remus tripped trying to keep up. 

“Barely rich? You call this barely rich?” Remus kept his eyes on his shoes, not willing to trip again. 

In his dedication to doing so, he didn’t notice when Sirius stopped, and nearly ran right into him. 

Sirius’ eyes were on him, and Remus’ skin prickled with the feeling. 

“Well, this house is amazing. But he is not wealthy like the Black family. His parents started a very successful law firm, but were practically broke before that. The Blacks have been affluent for many years.” He said it like a salesman rattling off a speech dedicated for the fourth Pontiac Grand Dam of the day. 

“So? Just because your family’s been rich longer doesn’t mean you’re better than them,” Remus shrugged. 

At this, Sirius’ face darkens in shade, and he avoids eye contact, spluttering, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” 

And he promptly turns, running down the stairs once more. 

“Sirius.”

Another twelve steps.

”Sirius, I’m sorry if I said something—“

Sirius was nearly at the end of the staircase, setting Remus into motion. He catches up with Sirius within thirty seconds. 

“Sirius, look,” He grabs Sirius’ shoulders and turns him three-sixty to face him. Sirius proceeds to wriggle out of his hold and push Remus square in the chest. It sends him stumbling back. 

“Watch yourself, Lupin.”

Remus stands there, mouth agape and staring dumbly. Before he can think of something to say, the doorbell rings and Sirius is rolling his eyes and huffing, pulling at the roots of his hair. 

“Listen, I’m getting the door. You just stay here. Don’t move,” He says, turning and walking backward momentarily, pointing in an accusatory way, before pivoting and stomping away. He hears James yelling from upstairs, (which must have been a great feat) asking who it is.

Remus is momentarily unsure if he should obey Sirius’ words, standing awkwardly in the hall, or follow him to the door. A part of him wants to prove something to Sirius by staying, but another is intrigued by the voices he hears at the door. They’re not close enough to make out, but he can tell Sirius is raising his voice. Suddenly, he yells out for his brother. 

“Reg, tes potes débiles sont là!”

The curious part of his mind leads his feet on the path that Sirius had just taken less than a minute ago. He hears the sound of someone—most likely Regulus—running down the stairs. They reach the front door at about the same time, Regulus coming just a couple seconds after. 

Walking through the doorway were two men—one, a man with hair and eyelashes so light it was nearly white, and the other a deep brown. They both had faces totally mutilated in piercings, and a small part of him—the farm-boy from Virginia—flashed ideas of delinquents and unholy Satanic anarchists. But the larger part of him—the new Remus, who lives in California and has girls flirting with him openly—found it incredibly intriguing. How would he look with one through his eyebrow, like the man of white hair had? 

Sirius, who was holding the door open for them, slammed it as soon as they crossed the threshold. He looked even more annoyed than he was when he left Remus in the hallway. 

Remus inched closer hesitantly, unsure if Sirius would blow up when he saw him. In doing so, the eyes of the dark-haired boy lit up. 

“And who is this? Sirius, you didn’t mention you had any new friends.” His voice was much higher-pitched than expected, and carried a sense of teasing that Remus could not explain. He almost looked maniac in his excitement, and it scared Remus slightly. Delinquents, his mind supplied unhelpfully.

Sirius whips around, eyes wide and hands pulling at the roots of his hair again. Remus wished desperately that he would stop that. 

“Re-I told you—“ He pursed his lips in a frustrated manner and looked between the other man and Remus rapidly. Regulus and the light-haired man were watching interestedly a few feet away. 

“Sorry.”

Sirius waves him off and squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s okay, anyway, Remus, this is Barty, Barty, this is Remus.” He waves his hands back and forth between the two. Remus, unaware of what to do, sticks his hand out for a handshake. It lingers in the air between them for half a second before Barty grasps it roughly, shaking a few times quickly and keeping the grip. 

“Nice to meet you,” Remus says kindly, voice low and quiet. 

This makes Barty smile even wider, which was thought previously impossible. 

“Well, Sirius, a gentleman, too? Where did you find this boy?” The way he smiles and looks at Sirius makes Remus feel somehow mocked. He doesn’t have much time to ponder over it before Sirius is gently shoving Barty off and pulling Remus’ arm, dragging him backwards down the hall they came.

The other unknown boy waves at Remus, who waves back, and speaks his name loudly. “Evan Roiser.” There’s something strange about his voice, but Remus doesn’t have the time to think about it very much. 

”Nice to meet you,” he mumbles before being dragged around the corner. 

Once they’re in the hallway, Remus shoulders Sirius’ hand off his arm, turning to face the direction they’re walking. Sirius is walking as quick as ever, and Remus hauls ass to keep up. 

“What the hell was that?” Remus asks, brows furrowed. 

“Just Barty being a dumbass, don’t worry about it,” he breathes. 

“Oh-kay. Cool.”

They reach what Remus can only assume is the basement door. He stands back as Sirius yanks it open, leaving it to bang against the wall in a way that makes Remus cringe, hurrying to follow Sirius before it closes again. The stairway is carpet—nicer than any kind of basement stairway Remus has come into contact with before—and Remus finds himself once again in awe at how luxurious James’ house seems to be. This isn’t even his main dwelling place; merely his summer home. He wonders if the Potters’ have property anywhere else. 

Sirius, like always, rushes down the stairs in a way that leaves Remus breathing heavily when they reach the bottom. 

The basement is incredibly decorated—with obvious influence from James Potter himself—there’s color everywhere, but somehow it all seems to flow in a nice way. It is not stuffy like normal basements would be in the summer, but rather is cooled by what seems to be an AC unit in one of the windows, along with multiple fans; ceiling and plug-in. 

He wills his mouth to shut from where his jaw has dropped and follows Sirius to the sound system set up by the bar, which—by Remus’ curiosity—has an assortment of alcohol. Why did they have to get vodka? Was it just Sirius’ preference? Maybe it was some kind of initiation ritual, Remus thinks nervously. I hope I passed.

Sirius pulls out a box of records, pulling off the top and rifling through them quickly. Remus stands awkwardly just behind him, watching in silence.

”Remus,” Sirius says, stilling his hands and turning back with a smile. Remus has learned to deal with Sirius’ mood swings by now, and adapts, smiling back softly. “What kind of music do you like?”

Remus thinks back to home—the farm, Gideon, Fabian, Betsy, his mother and his old girlfriend. What did they listen to?

“Well, my mother loves Billy Joel. Like, a whole lot. And she has a bunch of older records from Nancy Sinatra and stuff like that. Uhm…my friends, Gideon and Fabian, well—Gid likes Steely Dan, and Fabian likes the Eagles, though I know he listens to this real sappy shit sometimes.” Sirius displays no emotion, so Remus figures he does not like Billy Joel, or Nancy Sinatra, or Steely Dan or the Eagles. He searches his brain for anything else. “This girl I dated, well, she really liked Joni Mitchell and stuff like that. She tried to get me to dance to it one time, let me tell you, she did not like my dancing skills.” He fidgets at Sirius’ silence, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and rocking back and forth on his feet, avoiding eye contact.

”Remus, I didn’t ask what kind of music your former girlfriend liked. Or what kind of music your mom liked,” He says quietly, turning fully to face Remus, back pressed against the box of records, leaning on it and crossing his feet at the ankles. “I wanted to know what music you like.”

”Oh, well…” Remus brings his hands out his pockets, rubbing the back of his neck with one and glancing away sheepishly. He didn’t think he had ever been asked what kind of music he liked. “I’ve never been asked that before.”

He always just listened to what others played. He had never even bought a record before. Was that unusual? 

”Well, you have been now. So you better figure it out.” Sirius smiles, perfect teeth—almost unsettlingly so—being displayed in a way that had Remus struggling to look away. Sirius turns, keeping his eyes on Remus, and steps away from the box of records, waving as if to say ta-da.

Remus looks back and forth between Sirius and the records, hesitating, before Sirius gives him a small nod and kind smile. This side of Sirius is not correctly aligning in Remus’ head with the man who got frustrated quickly and had intense outbursts. He waited for the switch—the minute change in Sirius’ face from that of patience to that of being tested—but it never came. So, he stepped forward and began to look at the records. He’s slow, picking each up and reading the front, back, and inside, before moving on to the next. The steady presence of a calm Sirius behind him, “setting the place up” tells him it’s okay to do so. 

He is allowed to meticulously analyze three records before the basement door is being slammed open and people are running down the stairs. Like a startled animal, Remus drops the record he holds and turns, hands behind his back like he was caught red-handed. From behind the bar, where he’s pouring drinks, Sirius laughs. 

Down the stairs comes Barty and Evan, along with Regulus—who is definitely not running—yelling some nonsense. They both hop over the couch and sit there, sprawled out, facing the television. Remus picks up the sound of them arguing about who won their race, and it dawns on him that the strangeness about Evan’s voice is the fact that he is British. His eyes widen. This place keeps shocking him, over and over. 

Just as he’s about to turn around and continue looking through the records, a shrill sound fills the air, which nearly everyone in the room winces at, excluding Regulus, who is channel surfing, sitting on the couch between Evan and Barty with his legs crossed and posture straight.

Remus has no idea what’s happening until it’s already over. 

A blur of curly hair and plaid dress, a girl comes running towards him, hugging him around the middle so tight he thinks air circulation may have been cut off. He’s too stunned to hug back, and doesn’t fully register what’s happening until she pulls back, hands coming to clutch both sides of his face. 

“Oh my god, Sirius, where did you find him!” She squeals, squeezing Remus’ checks together as he furrows his brows, arms stiff at his sides. “He is just the cutest thing ever!” 

She has the most lovely brown eyes he has ever seen, along with  dark complexion and beautiful hair that reaches the tops of her ribs. Her dress comes mid-thigh and is a red and white plaid pattern that reminds Remus of picnics he used to have with his mother on Sunday afternoons. Why she is squealing and clutching Remus like a long-lost friend, Remus hasn’t the faintest.

”Actually, Mary, I was the one who found him,” Regulus calls, only sparing a brief mildly interested glance at them before continuing his business with the television. Remus, with lost hope in Regulus helping him getting out of her embrace, looks back at Sirius, who is betraying him by laughing, doubled over behind the bar. He sobers for a moment to yell a retort. 

“Yes, but I’m the one who brought him here. You should be thanking me.”

Remus tries and fails to speak, the only thing leaving his mouth a muffled noise of protest. He looks back down at the girl keeping him captive, watching as her smile grows even wider. 

“You’re Remus, right?” Her tone is hopeful, and Remus is about to answer something when another girl comes strolling down the stairs, an amused expression on her face.

”Mary, we talked about this. You can’t just grab the new boys, you’ll scare them off.”

She is probably the coolest looking girl Remus has ever seen—shaggy blonde hair and eyeliner so close to her eyes it might as well been painted on her eyes. Black clothes and chains, complete with a leather jacket even though it had to be at least a hundred degrees out. She had an effortlessly cool air around her, reminding Remus much of his ex-girlfriend. 

Mary lets go begrudgingly and steps back a little, having the decency to look a little sheepish. “I’m sorry Remus, sometimes I get a little excited with new boys. It’s been so long since he had a change around here, y’know?” Remus felt himself nodding along with Mary even though he did not really know.

The blonde girl comes over to the bar as Mary goes to sit down on the floor in front of the couch, right in front of Barty. He immediately lets her settle her head between his knees, grabbing his hands to play with while talking to him about some band she heard was playing on Friday. Remus goes back to rifling to the records when the blonde girl comes over. 

“Hey, Remus. I’m Marlene Mckinnon.” Remus nods. 

“Nice to meet you, Marlene.”

”And that girl who damn near strangled you when you came in—that’s Mary MacDonald. Sorry about her, by the way,” she smiles, lifting her drink—something dark. She sipped.

“It’s alright.” He picks up a record, looking at the cover with scrutiny before turning it to the back. It wasn’t one he had ever seen before.

”You seem startled. I know coming into this—our little group—may seem frightening at first. But if you stick around, you might like it.” 

He nodded. “Nothing better to do this summer anyway.”

”Ah, right. You’re from Virginia, right? Probably not any friends here yet?” 

He took the record out the sleeve and put it on the player, moving the needle to the first track. No sound came out the speakers, leaving a puzzled expression on his face. 

“Not yet.” He fumbled around with the needle, putting it back on the beginning grooves and biting his lip when nothing happened again. 

”Well, that’s the spirit. By the way…” She reached behind the player as Remus fiddled with the volume on the speakers, turning it all the way up to no avail. “You have to plug it in.”

She connected the wires and suddenly, the room was filled with noise. Remus covered his ears as the sound of music blasted. A few cheers from the others in the room, a “Finally, some music!” countered by a “Shut up, Crouch!” from Sirius. 

Marlene patted Remus on the shoulder twice before walking away, winking and shouting, “Nice choice, Lupin!”

He’s in love with rock and roll world

He’s in love with getting stoned world

He’s in love with Janie Jones’ world

He don’t like his borin’ job, no

He’s in love with rock and roll world

Chapter Text

The night progressed without Remus’ permission. If asked at this exact moment who he was—where he was—he would have had a full-on psychological breakdown. Who was he? Where was he? And, why was he there?

Not the passing night, but the days before—the weeks, and even years leading up to this very moment—all seen from Remus’ perspective as a distant memory. 

But a larger question—were the very events that happened prior to the current moment just a precursor for the inevitable future to come?

He stared blankly at the movie that was playing. Somewhere along the line, Regulus must have quit his fruitless search for a sufficient channel. Was it recently? Was it even the same night at all? Remus couldn’t recall the events leading up to the present. Am I dreaming?

He surveyed his surroundings sluggishly, feeling dizzy. Even the slightest movement disoriented him. From somewhere beside him—or was it behind him?—someone spoke, echoing and distorted from his vision. 

“Oh shit. He’s definitely high.”

There was laughter; a heating and horrendous noise, if you asked Remus. 

Slowly, he laid down, stretching and running his fingers through the plush, shag carpet beneath him. His head was set down gently, and he the feeling of sinking into the carpet overwhelmed him. 

Remus laid for an immeasurable amount of time, breathing slowly and coming back to hisself in pieces. The events of the night were not remembered in chronological order. They came back in fragments, mixed in order and muddled by his unaware being. 

At some point, he had been laughing about something with a beautiful, red-haired girl. God, what was it? It was something about Sirius. Something about his emotions. Sirius had gone somewhere, right?

Before that, what? What had made him leave, sulking? The girl from the liquor store—Emmeline Vance—had been there, was there. Wasn’t she? Yes. She had been smiling up at him as she poured herself a drink. She had not arrived for the first few hours, claiming her shift ran late. God, was tonight the same night I had bought vodka for the group?

He had made her laugh a lot. They moved from by the bar to a nook of the basement as she got tipsy, falling into his chest. And Remus was drunk enough to forget about the accusations of Sirius being a “lover boy” to Emmeline. When he put a steadying hand on her waist, Sirius had stormed out, followed by James. Emmeline did not seem to notice, but was dragged to the bathroom by Mary not a couple minutes later, leaving Remus sitting in a bean bag chair in the nook, alone. That’s when the red-haired girl approached—Lily Evans—and they had joked about Sirius’ whiplashing emotions. 

Lily had gotten there with another boy—Peter Pettigrew—about an hour after Remus had put the music on. There were already a couple drinks in his system when they walked in, with even more drinks for the group. Everyone had been cheering while Remus talked to Sirius by the bar. 

They had talked about music. Sirius had an unbridled passion for rock; particularly the Stooges and Led Zeppelin. Remus listened with rapt attention as he detailed the talent of Jimmy Page, his admiration of Robert Plant and the other band members. Remus had never spoken to someone so wholly devoted and affected by music before, so he took in every word with bright eyes and a listening ear. When Sirius had turned the question on him—Who was his favorite band?—he found himself saying more than he had before. He talked about how he liked music that made him feel at home, how he was particular to a Flamingos album. How he liked listening to America, apologizing because it wasn’t as cool as Sirius’ taste. 

Sirius waved this away, eyes lighting up and leaning in, a look of absolute wonder detailing every feature of his face. Remus felt his heart race accelerate, a feeling building in his stomach as Sirius opened his mouth to reply.

But whatever it was disappeared with the arrival of Lily and Peter, who slammed down two six-packs. (“To make up for lost time!”)

He remembered vaguely what had happened right before the current moment. Barty offering something that would “rock his world,” and Evan promising it wasn’t dangerous as he lit it up. They all sat criss-cross in a sort of triangle on the carpet in front of the television. Passing, and passing, and passing until Remus was too out of it to accept the next pass.

James had come downstairs a few minutes after Remus had put on the music—an album that Marlene said was called “The Clash” and was the best band ever—with a stack of VHS movies, piled insanely high in his hands to the point he couldn’t see. Regulus jumped up from where he was chain-smoking cigarettes to help him down the stairs, muttering about “damn fools” and something in French that Remus didn’t know but amused Sirius and caused James to pout for a little bit.

In the present, the music was loud and intense and the lead singer was moaning in a way that made Remus slightly uncomfortable, but the guitar was insane and he found himself nearly getting emotional. Sitting up, the surveyed the room with a clearer mind than before. 

Barty and Evan were sitting on the floor, giggling and still passing the weed between them, paying no mind to anyone else. Regulus sat on top of the bar, sipping a bottle of beer with a disgusted look on his face. James stood close, laughing. Mary and Emmeline were still absent, which Remus remarked meant they had been gone for possibly hours. Marlene and Sirius were dancing by the sound system, and Peter was noticeably absent as well. Remus stood up all the way, wobbling slightly before making his way to Sirius, with the goal of apologizing on the tip of his tongue. When he got to him, though—dancing and singing, carefree and passionately—all words evaded his system. 

His inky hair flowed in the air as he thrashed his body around, perfectly in sync with his blonde companion. His voice, exerted (he was screaming at the top of his lungs,) sounded like a rockstars’. And Remus was stunned. It must be the weed. And the alcohol, his mind supplied. What else could this lack of function be from?

When Sirius noticed him, he went into overdrive. Surging forward, he grasped both of Remus’ hands and pulled, singing even louder—something previously thought impossible by Remus.

“I’ve been a-working from seven, seven, seven to eleven every night! And it kinda makes my life a drag!”

Remus allowed himself to be pulled and pushed at the will of Sirius, still singing. Well, it was less singing and more belting. Screaming the lyrics at a volume Remus has never heard attempted before. Maybe it was the marijuana in his system, but he didn’t think somewhere had ever been as loud as here. 

Sirius drops to his knees dramatically, followed by Marlene, clutching the backs of Remus’ thighs with digging fingers.

“Since I’ve been lovin’ you! I’m about to lose my worried mind!”

Remus stares down at Sirius, whose eyes are shut and forehead is creased. He glances to see Marlene doing much of the same to Lily, who is rolling her eyes and smiling fondly like she just can’t help it. Remus begins to form a smile of his own, unguarded and free.

”Watch out!” Sirius jumps up, nearly hitting Remus in the face as he spins around, mimicking the guitar solo. As he catches sight of Remus’ face on the fifth spin, he grins uncontrollably and yells, “C’mon, Remus!”

Remus obliviously smiles like a fool as Sirius jolts forward and grabs Remus’ shoulders. His hands instinctively push at Sirius’ waist as he falls forward slightly.

“Said i’ve been crying…” His face is so full of emotion, like he was the one that wrote it. 

And then he’s gone, holding onto Marlene with an intense grip as he continues to sing the song. Remus looks at Lily, recently abandoned like him, and they share an amused smile. 

It’s cut off by the sound of James’ booming voice from behind him. 

“Listen up shitheads!”

”Hey!” Comes a yell from the couch, most likely Barty. Lily goes to turn the music down, causing Marlene and Sirius to groan dramatically.

”Mary here had the fantastic idea to play spin-the-bottle!” He grins like he won the lottery, which is not an unusual grin for James. Evan and Peter groan, Peter mumbling “not again,” as he rolls right off the couch. 

”Yeah but where’s the bottle?” Barty yells. James narrows his eyes in thought before landing on Regulus’ barely-sipped beer glass. He yanks it out of his hands and downs the whole thing in three seconds flat, brandishing it above his head with a proud expression. 

“Right here, shithead.”

That’s how spin-the-bottle started that night. 

Everyone—regardless of reluctance—sat in a circle on the carpet between the couch and television. The same carpet a disoriented and high Remus had just come to on just a couple minutes ago. (Or was it longer? Remus could not be sure about timing anymore.) A new song starts up in the background, and Remus wonders who changed the record. He quite liked the other one Sirius had been singing.

Did you ever wake up to find

A day that broke up your mind?

Destroyed your notion of circular time

Directly across from him sat Sirius, with James on his left and Mary on his right, giggling conspiratorially with Emmeline, whispering unknown thoughts. Beside Remus to the left was Barty, and to his right was Lily, fidgeting with her gold heart pendant and ruffling her long, wavy hair; smoothing it down again only to mess it up a second later. Every few seconds, she cast nervous glances in the direction of Sirius, James, and Peter. Remus found himself longing to reach out and comfort her, but unaware about how to go about it. Lily was practically a stranger.

His right hand twitches awkwardly in its place, resting on his knees, and he’s about to take action when Sirius yells a demand to being the game, huffing.

”Losers!” He fidgets sitting positions, eventually ending up with his legs folded yo under himself. “It’s time…” he looks around the circle with a mischievous glint in his eyes that almost scares Remus.

”Aye, aye!” James cheers, lifting his beer can and causing a ripple effect of much of the same around the circle. Remus finds himself wondering drunkenly why they have both beer cans and beer bottles. 

“You all know why we’re gathered here tonight…” Black continues, the same glint in his grey eyes. 

“Piss off and get on with it!” Yells Evans, earning a pat on the shoulder and grin from Barty. 

“Okay, okay!” James sets the bottle down in the center of the circle, giving it a good spin. “The rules are simple; we go counter-clockwise from whoever the bottle chooses…and if you refuse to kiss, you must drink. And let me say, it would right rude to do that, wouldn’t it?” Sirius and a few others hum in agreement. The bottle slows.

“Looks like…” Mary trails off as it completes the turn, coming to a stop. “Peter!”

Several loud whoops and cheers fill the bussing air as Peter grumbles, making a show out of picking up the bottle; reaching out just to pull back, just to reach once more. Remus finds himself drunkenly smiling, carefree, making the mistake of glancing around the circle to make eye contact with Emmeline, who blushes and bites her lip. He smiles even more foolishly back, waving unnecessarily, making her giggle and wave back. As his eyes drift back to Peter’s display, he finds himself attacked by the furrowed expression of Sirius’ stormy eyes gazing with an emotion Remus could not have named in his inebriated state of mind. It looked akin to anger.

Peter spins the bottle, and it continues on for what feels like forever—the group watching with bated breath—before landing on Mary, who blushes unreasonably and smiles shyly. Peter goes red all over, the color trailing down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his X-Men shirt, and Remus feels something like pity towards this poor boy, practically a stranger to him. 

His mother had always said his ability to empathize was a gift, but from where he saw it, empathy presented itself as quite the opposite. In school, it was a weakness; he had been conned out of too many records he would now never have the pleasure of hearing. But who knew? Maybe his new friends had them, and were willing to share. 

Millie, his ex-girlfriend, had said his empathy was nice in a relationship, but would inevitably get him hurt one day. Molly said more men needed to act like him; and if they did, the world would be a better place. Fabian never talked about it, really, and Gideon just said he was a pussy. 

The kiss lasts two seconds, only traveling as far as being a quick peck, in all seriousness, and is so obviously guided by Mary. Barty whistles loud, directly in his ear, while Sirius loudly praises “Oh yeah, Pete, get some!”

Going counter-clockwise, James is the next to spin. When it lands on Sirius, Remus expects them to laugh and spin again. That’s what Gideon would have done, after all. 

James takes a gulp of his beer and right when Remus is adjusting his vision to look at Sirius, whose turn it would be next, James grabs the back of Sirius’ head harshly and pulls him in for dramatically wet smooch. Sirius laughs, wiping his mouth and smiling.

It’s as if life moves in slow motion for Remus. What? How? How is everyone okay with this? A glance around tells him everyone is obviously amused. He thinks about what Gideon would say. Maybe these people were all in on some kind of joke?

So, faking a laugh with the rest of them, he says, “What are y’all, a bunch a queers?”

Laughter dies as everyone turns to look at him. Their expressions go from amused to confused, some even angry. Remus smile is wiped, too. With each pair of eyes, a feeling of being exposed is brought. He hadn’t thought about his facial deformities all night, but now he was doing more than thinking. He could feel the judgement seeping into his skin. He longed to reach and cover up his scars, even though he knew each one of them had already seen how ugly he was. 

“What? You got a problem with that or something?” James asked, face dead. Serious in the midst of a buzz. Remus didn’t even know James could look serious, let alone be serious. 

Remus sobers entirely. “Uh-What? No, I-“

”Did no one tell him?” Mary asked innocently, carrying no bite, unlike James.

“Barty’s queer,” Says James. Simply. 

The man in question’s stone cold face comes into view as Remus scrambles for an answer.

”James, be patient. He’s probably never seen it before. Y’know, living up in Virginia. Didn’t you say he lived on some farm?” Lily swoops in effortlessly, graceful and well-spoken, despite Remus knowing, for a fact, that she had even more to drink tonight than James. 

“It’s okay, guys, I promise,” Barty grins, switching back to his usual self in record time. “He’s a little sheltered.”

Everyone was quiet for a long, staging moment. The only sound was the record behind him, playing the Rolling Stones at an uncomfortable volume.

I watched you suffer a dull aching pain

Now you decided to show me the same

No sweeping exits or offstage lines

Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset anyone-“

Lily places a reassuring hand on his arm, giving him kind eyes and a kinder smile. “It’s okay, Remus. You didn’t know.”

Remus swallows and looks down at his lap, silently wistfully hoping everyone would turn away. Nothing to see here, thank you very much.

Without a word, Sirius picks up the bottle and gives it a hefty spin. Remus looks up, fighting tears in his eyes as he listens to the crooning voice of Mick Jagger.

Wild, wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away

It lands on Evan, and Sirius quickly crawls across the space to give him a short kiss on the cheek, which some people groan about. Remus watches silently as he crawls back to sit cross-legged in his spot. Remus looks, really looks at the man across from him, thinking back to the one who had been screaming Led Zeppelin just some minutes ago. This one seems so reserved in comparison, and Remus is enthralled by these mood changes Sirius has. He is stricken with the need to know exactly what causes one mood to change to the next. Remus continues to watch him shamelessly as Mary spins next. He doesn’t realize who she even lands on until Mary’s making her way across the circle to give Lily a kiss on the forehead, smiling sweetly. He locks eyes with Peter, who is bright red and staring at Mary still. 

This seems to break the trance of watching Sirius, and he’s able to watch as Emmeline picks up the bottle, hesitating and being encouraged by cheers from Barty and a hand on the shoulder from Mary. Finally, she spins. 

And it lands on Remus. 

Remus feels everyone turn to look at him. Oh shit.

He’s just beginning to wonder if he’ll have to go to her, or apologize for seeming like an anti-gay dickhead when she gets up and walks to him, sitting down in front of him and taking his head in her hands tenderly. It almost feels intimate, the way her hands cradle his jaw. One wanders, going down his neck until it fists in his shirt and pulls him to meet her lips. 

He knows what to do, of course. He’s had practice with both genders. He has an odd thought that he would rather like to make it known to everyone that he knows what’s he’s doing. 

He reaches out to cradle her face in return, and perhaps gets a little to carried away in doing exactly what that odd thought told him to, because James is wolf-whistling, Mary is laughing, and Regulus is saying, “that’s quite enough.”

Remus pulls back, feeling partly self-satisfied at himself for putting that blush on Emmeline’s cheeks, and getting her lips to be that way. Her hands linger on him for a moment more before she hurries back to her spot, sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest and touching her lips absentmindedly. 

Barty grasps his shoulder, ruffling his hair and saying something positive that Remus can’t really hear. He’s too busy gauging the reaction of the man across from him. 

His eyes are intense. Deep set. Remus feels sorry for a second. He did just show up and take Sirius’ girl. Lover-boy, his mind repeats. He makes a vow to apologize to Sirius and talk to him, next time they’re alone. 

The next to go is Regulus. He does no-nonsense, spinning quickly and crawling over to James, kissing him on the lips with something no deeper than a peck. It looks almost formal, and they both appear unaffected. Except, when Regulus returns to his spot, Remus can tell his face is a shade darker around the apples of his cheeks. 

Remus looks around the rest of the group, curious to see if anyone else is witnessing this very interesting development. But no one is, they’re all drunk and talking loudly to each other over the record. As Remus looks back at Regulus one final time, he’s staring back, eyes narrowed. When Regulus is sure Remus can see his situation, his eyebrows lift, as if to say “Try me, dipshit.”

Remus lifts his eyebrows too, smiling smugly. Regulus is stone-cold in his expression, turning away. 

Just as Marlene gets up to change the record, someone pokes their head from the door at the top of the basement stairs. It’s no one Remus knows—some jock looking guy that could probably crush anyone in this room at so much as thumb war. 

“Hey, Jamie. We got a situation. Linda and Maggie are at it again,” he says to James, not even sparing a glance at anyone else. James gets up, murmuring an “Oh, shit,” and jogs up the stairs. Sirius is close behind.

”Need help?”

James waves Sirius off. “Nah, we got it, right Mike?” The man nods once, and Sirius’ shoulders fall. He looks defeated.

Remus’ gaze travels back to their circle as Sirius comes back. Regulus nearly looks like he’s gonna jump up at any minute. He deflates—exactly like Sirius did—and turns back around. 

“I didn’t know there were more people here,” Remus says as Marlene places the needle on the new record. 

Some people laugh. Emmeline’s the only one who responds, looking at him softly.

”What’d you think I meant when I said it was a party, Remus?” 

Remus shrugs, earning some giggles. 

Generals gathered in their masses

Just like witches at black masses

As Marlene came back to sit down, Remus asked, “What is this song?”

Marlene’s jaw drops. “Remus-You’ve never heard of Black Sabbath?”

He shakes his head no. 

“Well,” her mouth forms a smile. “Do ya like it?”

”Yes. Now, what was it you said it was called again?” Marlene smiles like she won something, looking over at Sirius who had a similar glint in his eyes. Remus smiled as an effect of looking at them, not really seeing how it’s a big deal. “Is this new?”

Marlene closes her eyes and pinches between her eyebrows, and Sirius takes over her part in the conversation. “No, Remus. About eight years old, now.”

Remus really thinks about this for a minute, zoning out at a spot somewhere behind Sirius’ head. “Huh. Well, thanks for showin’ it to me, then.” 

Sirius raises his beer can and drinks. Remus tries to reach for a drink of his own, but comes up empty. The fumble makes Sirius smile wider. 

They continue spin-the-bottle; albeit a little slowly, drunk and meandering through the game. Evan kisses Lily on the cheek sweetly, Barty kisses Remus briefly (which Remus strangely finds himself being upset about), Remus kisses Marlene, Lily lands on Peter, and the game ends before Marlene gets a turn to spin the bottle. 

After the game, everyone disperses. James eventually does come back, obviously a little more frustrated than before he left, sitting on the couch and watching The Twilight Zone on the television with Regulus and Peter. The girls all get their hands on some magazines—the content of which a mystery to Remus—and congregate on the floor next to a pool table Remus hadn’t even noticed before. Sirius is standing next to the couch, talking to his brother in quick, quiet French. Remus is left sitting at the bar that Evan and Barty stand behind, drinking whatever they serve him as they talk. 

He learns that Barty was kicked out of his home at ten when they discovered he was gay—how, Remus did not know—and he had wandered, staying with partners until one day he met Evan, who wandered in at the age of fourteen on summer vacation from England. Barty had made fun of his accent and Evan made fun of his clothes and crooked teeth, and they got along just fine. That summer of 1972, they terrorized the streets of California, getting involved in things it was certain no fourteen year old had business being involved in. By the time summer came to an end, Evan had convinced his parents to allow them to move to California. To Remus, it sounded like a fantasy. Really, convincing your parents to move just because you made a friend? When he vocalized this, Barty laughed and Evan said his parents had been wanting to get away from their crowd back in Europe. 

Evan had gone to the same school as James, Regulus and Sirius when he lived there. He was friends with Regulus when they went to that Scottish boarding school, and had never really interacted with James and Sirius due to them being a year older. 

The whole story seemed like a bit of fiction to Remus. Like some romance story.

He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud until Barty was cackling maniacally and Evan was smiling and ducking his head, making Remus another dark concoction that was placed right next to the other untouched drink. 

“Sorry,” Remus said. “Didn’t realize I said that.”

”You’re drunker than I thought,” said Barty. 

Remus rolled his eyes. “Y’all’s the ones givin’ me the drinks.”

”Y’all?” Evan said, trying out the word for himself.

”Yeah,” Remus said, gesturing between Barty and Evan. “Both y’all.”

They laughed, perhaps a little too loud. Remus took the opportunity to look around. 

Sirius, Peter, and James were gone, Regulus left alone on the couch. He still sat near the armrest, despite having the whole couch to himself. The girls were still on the floor, all red-faced and laughing about something. Emmeline looked up when Remus looked and smiled in a private sort of way that made Remus’ heart speed.

He grinned foolishly back and watched as she got up and walked over to him, her blouse ruffled and jeans wrinkled, eyes wide and locks of dark hair ruffled. Without thinking, Remus took his hand and smoothed the hair sticking up, running his fingers gently through some of the knots. Emmeline’s already flushed face got a shade darker, and Remus retracted his hand.

”Would you like to go on a walk with me?” She said, hands behind her back. Remus rose from his seat at one of the bar chairs, gaining height on her as he did so. 

“Of course.” 

He didn’t hear Barty’s whistles or Evans snickers as they walked up the stairs.

The actual house was in complete disorder. Remus grasped Emmeline’s hand in the dimly lit house, shoving past at least a hundred people on the way out the house. Outside, plastic cups littered the yard and one even floated in the stone fountain. There were all sorts of vehicles everywhere. They continued to hold hands, even when out of the chaos.

”So…” Remus said.

”So.” They caught eyes and smiled, both looking at their shoes after. 

“Remus…”

He stopped abruptly. “Yes?”

As they turned to face each other, hands falling from each others’, thoughts of what Sirius had said earlier—dating—came to mind. Her asking if he had a girl, earlier in the shop. Her glances to him all night. The-

“That kiss sure was something, eh?” She said, interrupting his very similar thoughts.

”Sure was.” 

There was a weighted silence. 

“Would you like to try it again, then?”

And she laughed. Full-on, head back. And then she put her hands on the back of his head, wrapping and holding tight, running her fingers through his hair. And then she was kissing him. 

He was momentarily stunned. Then, put into action. His hands grasped her waist, pulling her into him as they kissed. It was not held back; completely unlike the kiss during spin-the-bottle. 

Remus lost track of time. They stumbled back, finding a perfectly placed tree for her to push Remus against and continue kissing. Hands roaming-

“Holy shit!” 

They break apart, startled by the appearance of Peter. His dick is out, and clearly he was about to piss. Quickly, he turns away and zips himself up, turning back a moment later to look sheepishly at a mortified Emmeline and annoyed Remus. 

“Jesus, Pete,” Remus said, running his hand over his face and placing a hand on his hip. Emmeline stands there, looking a bit in shock before speaking.

”Oh my god! Peter, I did not want to see your dick tonight!” She exclaims, looking genuinely pained. Remus laughs at Peter’s spluttering. 

“Bet you wanted to see someone else’s though,” comes James’ voice from somewhere. He appears from thin air, startling Remus. Then, Sirius calls a plea for them to wait for him, and they’re all having a reunion in James Potter’s front yard, awkwardly standing in two groups—one, Remus and Emmeline, the other James, Peter, and Sirius, the latter looking bewildered, hair out of sorts and face flushed, breathing heavy like he had been running. 

“Well,” James says, awkwardly, hands on his hips and looking like a mother. “Let’s all get back inside, why don’t we?” He claps his hands and sets off towards his house, leaving the rest to trail after. Peter goes first, then Sirius, then Remus tries to, but is stopped by a gentle hand on his arm from Emmeline. He stops in his tracks, looking down at her; her dark hair that’s slightly mussed, her glossy lips, her wild eyes. 

“Remus,” she rasps. She suddenly looks like she’s about to say something incredibly important. 

“Yes?” he says, face crunched trying to find an explanation from her facial expression.

”I-I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” There’s silence for a couple moments. Then, “Just-“ She sighs and turns away, throwing her head back like she can’t find the right words. “I know you just got here, and all, but I don’t want to be treated like some kind of disposable…thing for you to just play around with.” Remus nods, and she continues. “I’m not saying we have to have a…relationship, or anything, but I just want you to know how I feel about these kinds of things before we get too far, y’know?”

”Emmeline, I completely understand. I wasn’t-Well, I wasn’t really planning on doing that. I wasn’t really planning on doing much of anything here, and now that I am here, there’s a lot of new stuff. And some really surprising stuff. I-I think I might like to be with you, if you really wanted. I don’t know. Can I take you out?” He spits it out in one go. Then the regret comes. Shit. Sirius is Emmeline’s Lover-boy. 

It’s too late to take it back, however, and Emmeline’s face lights up. She smiles bashfully, bracketing Remus’ face in her hands and getting on her tiptoes to bring him into a slow kiss, much sweeter than anything before. Remus reciprocates before it ends a moment later. 

“There is something, though,” Remus says, looking away from her wide eyes. She physically deflates in his arms. “I need to talk to Sirius.” 

At this, she pulls herself away, face growing guarded and stony. “About what? What did he say to you?”

”Well, it’s just…James was teasing him earlier, and I thought y’all might’ve been together. Recently, or in the past, or…maybe he likes you, or liked you. I don’t know. It wasn’t mentioned in great detail.”

She crosses her arms, looking away and biting her lip. “Me and Sirius…It was short lived. Last summer. He-Well, we don’t need to get into that right now, Remus. C’mon.” Emmeline offers her hand, pulling him to the house. As the approach the porch, Remus speaks. 

“I really must talk to him, though, Emmeline.”

She nods sadly and they walk inside together, separating hands as they do. 

Inside is still chaos; everywhere he looks there are people, and drinks, and yelling, and music. Even strange colored lights that were certainly not here earlier. Were they?

Sirius. I need to find Sirius. 

Emmeline disappears almost as soon as they walk in, and Remus is left trying to pus his way through these sweaty people. His eyes latch on to a glimpse of a person with dark hair, feet following of their own accord. They’re walking fast, so Remus had to shove past some people, muttering unheard apologies over his shoulder. 

“Sirius!” It’s no use with the music this loud. How did it get this fucking loud anyway? He looks back to see Emmeline has disappeared; he’s stuck in the crowd, with only the option to pick up the pace to hopefully talk to Sirius. 

“Sirius, wait!” 

Finally, the dark-haired man turns. He catches Remus’ eye for a brief moment before walking back, grabbing Remus’ arm and tugging him harshly through the crowd. Remus tries multiple times to speak, but his voice continuously gets drowned out by the people and music surrounding them. Before he knows it, he’s being dragged down a dark hallway, into an even darker room. He has no idea what room he’s even in until Sirius meanders through the dark—letting go of Remus’ arm—to flick on a lamp, causing a warm glow to envelope the room. 

It’s surprisingly a small library. Remus only has a couple seconds to gaze around in awe before he remembers why he needed to talk to Sirius so badly in the first place. 

“Oh! Right,” Remus says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down sheepishly as he feels his face heat up, the razor sharp gaze of Sirius piercing his skin. He sobers quickly. 

“Hurry up, Lupin.” Sirius sounds slightly amused. That’s a good sign. I thought he’d be mad. 

His mind unhelpfully reminding him that he’s about to be.

”Well. There’s no easy way to say it.”

”Try.”

Remus makes brief eye contact with the other man, shifting from foot to foot as the stern posture of Sirius—arms crossed, eyes now haughty, tone sharp—gives him an anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach.

”Emmeline-“

Sirius holds up his hand, and Remus has no choice but to shut up. 

“Listen, Remus, I don’t care about Emmeline. Well, that sounds wrong. I care about her, but I’m not romantically interested in her, you see?” Honestly, Remus was a little distracted by the sound of his Hs in that slight accent of his, seemingly a little more pronounced now that he was under the influence. Instead of voicing this, he merely nods. 

“It’s just, with what James said, and-“

”James is an idiot,” Sirius says hotly, tightening his arms where they were crossed across his chest, sounding heated towards Remus more than James. 

“Right, but the way you’ve been acting-“

”Mhm, how have I been acting? How have I been acting? Go ahead!” His voice raised to a near-shout. “Tell me exactly how I’ve been acting.” He steps closer, eyes squinted and face flushing from anger. “You don’t get to come here and act like you know everything about me, Remus! I met you this morning!” He takes another step closer. “So go ahead, do whatever the fuck you want with Emmeline! I don’t give a damn!” He pointed his finger, jabbing it on Remus’ chest aggressively. “I don’t give a damn!” 

With the lack of a response from Remus, Sirius shook his head disbelievingly and muttered something in French, looking away. Remus let him calm down for a moment before jumping back in. 

“Sirius, I can tell you maybe still have some…feelings for her, yeah? And that’s why I wanted to talk to you. My mom says that communication is key,” Sirius closes his eyes, looking throughly annoyed. “And even though, yeah, her marriage didn’t really work out great, I still trust her word. So, I want you to know that I asked Emmeline out. And I’m sorry.” 

There were a million other things he wanted to say, but Sirius’ side profile put him at a loss of words. He looked mad. Actually mad. But as Remus opened his mouth, nothing came out. 

“Remus. It’s fine. I swear.” But his forehead was wrinkling and his eyes looked homicidal. Before Remus’ brain can supply anything, Sirius is pushing past him and leaving him in the room. He stands there stupidly for a moment before exiting. Although he takes no time doing so, any trace of Sirius is gone. 

He has no choice but to walk back into the main part of the house where everyone is, head pounding. The only thing playing in his head is the desire to get another drink. 

He does exactly that, finding a bar with plastic cups and dark liquid in a glass bottle he cannot read the label on. 

Remus isn’t sure how long he stands there, drinking. He isn’t sure how many times he refilled his cup. He only vividly acknowledges a figure pulling him through the crowd, laughing. It makes him laugh, too. 

Before he knows it, he’s being pulled downstairs, stumbling on the steps and cursing. He now recognizes the person towing him to be Barty.

”Barty?” He slurs, tripping and holding onto the wall to help him stay upright. Barty tightens his grip on Remus’ hand, using the other to place a steadying hand on his side. “Wha-“

”Oh, Jesus Christ, Barty! What did you do to him?”

Evan. 

“Nothin’. Found him like this, mumbling with some guy in the corner about fuckin’ horses,” Barty laughs, almost maniacally. Remus’ eyes shut from the light of the basement. 

Fuck, it didn’t seem this bright earlier did it?

”Fuckin’ bright,” Remus hears himself say, covering his eyes with his arms as he stumbles off the stairs. 

“Oh, Remus, come on.” He doesn’t even know who says it, but follows the gentle hands, guiding him to the couch. As he lays face-down, there’s some rustling. Then, a blanket is laid over him and something is set down rather loudly beside him. He whines and covers his ears. 

The light clicks off, and the voices quiet. Then, a whispered, “Goodnight, Remus.”

He’s not sure if the mumbled goodnight of his own reaches their ears or not. 

Chapter Text

June 15th, 1978

The first thing he heard the next morning was music. Loud, really fucking loud, music. God awful, disgustingly loud-

“Remus Lupin!” 

Who the fuck?

He blinks his eyes open blearily, watching as a freckled red-head comes into vision. Where- 

The events of last night flood his brain. Dear lord, Gideon and Fabian are gonna get a kick outta this. This girl—Lily Evans—his new friend, possibly, a girl he does not know, is standing over him and yelling his name at God knows what hour and-

Shit. His dad. Did Lyall come home last night, terrified of where his teenage son went? How could Remus stay the night here?

His mouth is dry, his head is pounding, and his stomach is churning. He has no time to warn Lily before he’s turning to the side and promptly throwing up, right into a metal trash can held by that lovely red-head. Perhaps she did not need the warning. 

Remus makes the foolish attempt of raising his head to speak, which makes all sorts of things go wrong in his body and cause another wave of vomit exile itself from his body.

“I said, ‘Move over,’ once, ‘Move over,’ twice, C’mon baby, don’t be cold as ice.”

He shut his eyes and groaned as the Beatles blared, seemingly having no effect on Lily, saving a that for him.

“My head,” he moaned, curling up where he now was lying on the floor, that same shag carpet comforting him. Lily redirected him, pulling him back up to a sitting position. He covered his eyes with the palms of his hands and scrunched his eyes as tight as he could.

“No, no, Remus. You need to get up. Remember what you said last night?” Her voice was soft and careful.

He shook his head minutely, hoping she’d get the message.

“I got my bag, run to the station.”

“You said you had to get home as soon as possible in the morning because of your dad.” Goddamn her for sounding so patient.

“Fuck my dad,” he heard himself grumble. Part of him chastised hisself for using such language in the presence of a lady, but that part was killed by her soft laughter.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t like to hear that.”

She pulled gently under his arms, helping him stand, a little wobbly, and smiling perfectly when he got his balance, retracting her hands from under his arms to bracket them on the outside instead. Remus blinked rapidly, adjusting to the morning light. He looked around, turning back to Lily almost incredulously when he saw the place abandoned except Lily and hisself.

“Where is everyone?”

She laughed again. It seemed like she had been doing a whole lot of that, laughing at me, he thought, frowning.

“Upstairs. Guest rooms. James has a lot of those.”

Remus made a sound that sounded a whole lot like Hmph, but something like that would never be confirmed by Remus. “So they chose to leave me down here because…?”

He knew that having this much attitude was not a good impression, but his hungover state did not seem to allow him to give much more grace to the world around him, at the moment.

“Trust me, we tried,” she said, walking off with an intriguing expression on her face. “Barty and Evan came up, telling James about your…state. Me and the girls were getting ready for bed, and Sirius was vanished. James was trying to find him, talking to us about his…disappearance. Then James heard about you and came down, so I came too.” She spoke about James with a kind of admiration. “But you would not get up. Heavy as a sack of bricks, James said.”

“Is Sirius okay? Did he-did you find him?” They scaled the stairs and came out in the house, walking through the halls.

“Oh yeah, he’s fine. Regulus found him somewhere. Oh, by the way, Emmeline said you went to have a talk with him right before he went missing.” She looked over at Remus, green eyes disarming, stopping in her tracks and forcing Remus to stop with her. “Did you guys have a fight?”

“No? I don’t think so. He yelled a little bit, but I didn’t do any yelling back,” Remus said, recalling their talk. He bit his lip, head suddenly pounding much worse.

“Hm. Okay.” She resumed walking, and so did Remus. They emerged in the kitchen after walking in silence for a few moments. Before walking into the room that was the source of the noise in the house, Lily promised to take him home whenever he was ready. Before he could say he was ready now, she turned on her heels and turned the corner, forcing Remus to follow.

The kitchen was a disaster. James was frying something that looked a whole lot like eggs, wearing an unnecessary apron that said something in Spanish. Marlene and Peter were doing something with a blender, having Mary chop up fruit for it. Barty and Evan were chasing each other around the island, getting yelled at by James, who sounded strangely like a mother. Sirius was sitting on the counter next to James, kicking his feet against the cabinets below, making a loud banging sound with each hit. Emmeline was putting something into the oven, brows furrowed and bottom lip being tugged at by her teeth, swatting a preoccupied James away from stove as to not burn him with the oven. Nobody even noticed as he came in with Lily, sliding in the seat next to Regulus, who was reading some French book that looked far too serious to be  anything Remus could come close to comprehending with a hungover mind.

Eventually, though, someone did notice him.

“Remus!” Mary ran over, dropping her knife with a clatter and leaving several blueberries to roll to the ground, causing Peter and Marlene to sigh and say her name exasperatedly. Mary paid no mind, focusing on wrapping her hands around his head from behind, hugging tight. He found himself smiling despite his hangover.

“Mary, be careful. He’s severely hungover. Just threw up twice,” Lily says amusedly from her place on the counter next to Sirius.

Sirius notices him next, quirking a brow that Remus took as a challenge. He wasn’t sure what the challenge was, exactly.

“Oh, Remus. I’m sorry,” James said sincerely, turning and leaving his back to his scrambled eggs, spatula in had. “But believe me, you’re in for the best breakfast of your life. My delicious scrambled eggs and Emmeline’s little cinnamon toast will bring you right back to life, trust me.”

All he could do is nod. His vision shifted to where Lily tilted her head at him like to say, “You ready?” Remus nodded back, and she hopped off the counter, going to open a cabinet, looking around for something. 

“Jamesy,” Sirius sing-songs. “I think your eggs are burning.”

He turned back around, mumbling curses and getting to work as Sirius and others laugh at him together. Remus looks over at Regulus, who gives no sign of turning away from his book at any time, and gets up. Feeling out of place, he begins to walk away from the chaos of the kitchen, attempting to use his memory in order to find his way out. Lily will probably meet him outside, and if not, I can walk home. 

“Wait, Remus!” It’s Emmeline, jogging slightly, coming from the kitchen. “Don’t you want to stay and eat with us?” Her eyes are wide and pleading, giving Remus a hard job of sticking to his original plan of heading home as soon as humanly possible. 

“Sorry, Emmeline. I-uh, well, I don’t want to intrude. And I need to get back to my dad, check in. I haven’t been home since yesterday morning.” He rubs the back of his neck, stepping backwards slowly. She bites her lip and look down at the floor, twisting her hands together. She looks utterly disappointed. 

”Uh. What are you doing tomorrow?” Remus asks, on a whim, halting his attempts to make an escape. “I promised you a date, I believe.” He puts on his best smile, trying to look half as charming as Sirius or even James.

She lights up, body language completely changing. “I-I guess you did! Well, there’s this film showing that I really wanted to see…if you’re into that kinda thing. We could invite Peter and Mary, make it a kinda double date?” She waved her hands around, jumping a little excitedly. “Mary’s been looking to date and Peter’s been smitten with her for as long as I’ve known him, I think. It would be perfect! Just perfect! Oh, Remus can we?”

”Uhm. Yeah,” he mutters, smiling unconsciously due to the positivity radiating off of her. 

She squeals and jumps up and down, in a way that reminds Remus of Mary, before settling down and grabbing his arm, smiling wide. “I’ll ask Pete or Mary if we can use one of their cars. I doubt you have one, right?”

”Right.”

”Okay,” she said, looking off and trailing her hand off his arm, allowing him to step further back. She stepped back as well, saying “Okay,” again, a faraway look in her eyes like she was imagining the whole night already. “I’ll see you, Remus. Call me.”

Remus muttered a goodbye and walked the remaining distance between him and the front door before reaching out and catching sight of the something scrawled on his hand. Further inspection reveals it to be a number, most likely Emmeline’s number. Huh. When did that happen?

Before he can open the door, Lily bustles up from behind him and appears with a plate of James’ (slightly burnt) scrambled eggs. It looks different, more colorful than any scrambled eggs he’d seen before. In her other hand is a fork. She shoves both in his hand before opening the door, rushing out with a “eat.”

He hurries after, shutting the door behind him gently. Outside is messier than inside. The lawn is covered in the obvious remnants of a party, and there are several cars parked. Lily walks right up to a shiny red car, unlocking it and sliding in behind the wheel, wasting no time to start it and ask where Remus lives. 

As they drive, he asks questions about the previous night. (After finishing his delicious scrambled eggs, of course.)

“When did Emmeline write her number on me?” He brandishes the numbers to her as she looks scrutinizingly.

After a couple moments of silence she admits that she doesn’t know, reaching to turn the radio up.

”Well I’m hot blooded, check it and see.

Got a fever of a hundred and three.”

Lily does not waste time to turn the knob, changing the station. 

“I’m gonna take you to the top,

So baby, hold on to me.”

She nods to herself and settles back behind the wheel. 

“So, Remus,” She smiles. “Tell me about yourself.”

Remus scoffs, bringing his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, laughing from the sheer absurdity of the situation; being driven home, hungover, by a cheery stranger who wants to know more about the guy that threw up (almost on her) twice that morning. Lily smiles, too, looking over.

“What? Is it a crime to want to know something about the potential Mr. Vance?” Lily teased, making Remus groan and bury his head in his hands. “I want to make sure this so-called Remus Lupin is good enough for her, that’s all.”

Remus recovered quickly. “Well, Miss Lily Evans, there’s really not that much to me. I just got here, livin’ at my dad’s for the summer, that’s it.” 

“Oh, stop, I know there’s more to know about you. I’ve known you practically ten hours and know little other than you’re a heavy drinker who caught the eye of one Emmeline Vance, all mysterious in those boots and rugged with those scars.”

She said it jokingly, but Remus stilled regardless. Nobody, not one, had made any indication that they even noticed his scars before now. 

Lily immediately senses his discomfort and sends a brief, worrying glance towards him, biting her lip and suddenly looking about ten times smaller. “Remus-“

”No, it’s fine. Just startled me, having someone talk about them.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to-“

”No, no. Lily, you’re fine, I promise,” he said, albeit a little harsh. “Nobody has even mentioned them since I got here. I guess I sort of…” He looks away from her, subconsciously trying to hide his face from her viewing eyes. “I sort of forgot they were there for a little bit, y’know?”

Lily nods, perfectly curled hair bouncing as she did. When did she get the chance to do her hair? “Really, though, I’m sorry.”

”It’s fine.”

A weighted silence fills the air. Remus takes to looking out the window until he can’t bear it anymore. 

“It’s also fine if you want to ask.”

The words are quiet in the air, mingling with whatever song playing on the radio, but Remus is sure Lily heard him. She tightens her grip on the wheel, looking over for a second before putting her eyes back on the road. 

“I won’t make you tell me, Remus. That would be a cruel thing to do, and I don’t want to be a cruel woman.”

There’s another silence of much of the same air of the previous. Remus, again, breaks it. 

“I don’t actually remember what happened, but my mom told me about it.” Nothing. “My mom said that my dad got into a car crash when I was four, with me in the cab. Unbuckled. I think…he was drunk. There was no legal action, he ran away. To…here.”

Lily looks like she’s just about holding back tears as she pulls up to the street his dad’s house is on. Remus spies the pink flamingo of their neighbor and almost feels a sort of peace in knowing he has landmarks here. Just like at home, riding horses in the woods. 

“I’m sorry, Lily. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or sad,” he says, looking straight forward and avoiding eye contact. Surely, if those misty green eyes met his, he would start crying too. To his surprise, when he finally looks, Lily laughs softly, a little wet. 

“What-“

Wiping her eyes carefully as to not ruin her makeup, she smiles. “Well, I guess I learned that you’re good enough to be Mr. Vance, after all.”

Remus furrows his brows. “‘M sorry, I’m confused. What?”

She laughs again. “Remus, you apologized to me after telling me you were in a traumatic situation. Oh my. Remus, thank you for apologizing but really I should be the one apologizing to you.” 

“Oh,” he says stupidly. “Sorry.”

This sets off her laughter again. He edges his hand on the door handle, slowly opening the door.

”Well, thank you Lily. For the ride, and listening to me. I hope to see you soon.” He steps out, feeling awkward and out of place. 

“Bye, Remus. Be careful.” 

He waves and shut the door, unsure of what she means by be careful, but continuing on. 

He hasn’t been thinking about what’s waiting for him inside, but as he walks up to the door, waving goodbye to Lily once again as she drives off, he finally does. He thinks about his dad being angry. Throwing things. Yelling. Being violent. Hitting, kicking. Taking his keys, forcing him to stay in his room and taking his things. His journal. 

But then he realizes his dad doesn’t even know him well enough to know taking away his journal would be a punishment. 

So, he pushes away any emotions from Lily and his talk, any anxiety he might have from unlocking that door, and shoves his key in the lock.