A.N: This will be a collection of stories involving the great, wild and wonderful world of Muggledom and the interactions a certain werewolf, by the name of Remus Lupin, has in said world. There will be plenty of OCs, but nothing really romantic. This is gonna be a whole lot of renewing Remus's faith in humanity. Hah I also just wanted to make him do a bunch of muggle jobs.
Have fun (or something)
Rudefool
Chapter 1: Syzygy of a Lost Man: Together with the World's Sport
The first time of all the times it had been a Tesco. It was an easy job- almost insultingly easy after one conquered the basics of the pound note, electricity, shelve stocking and apathy at the register. The mindless patterns were like the cheap linoleum tiles that spread the store's floor: simple, thoughtless and numbing.
It was an easy job for Remus Lupin, who had always had some stormy sort of love affair with his occupation. This was not a position to fawn over. Under the rows of fluorescent lights and between isles of produce and snacks and meat and dairy, he found an ease so unlike any before.
Despite all the numbers and buttons and switches, Remus Lupin had happened upon a wonderful simplicity. It helped very much in regards to his very dead and very incarcerated friends.
With his disconnect from the world that caused him so much suffering, he was able to move on with his life.
It was a very lonely, tedious life, though. Most of his effort was put into forgetting things. It was kind of unfortunate.
Something about Sunday mornings was pathetic. Grey and dreary like every day in London, that particular Sunday marked the 3 month anniversary of Remus acquiring the job at the High Street Wembley Tesco. By extension, it was the four month anniversary of James and Lily Potter's deaths. Monday would bring the anniversary of Peter's. It was the cusp of March, damp and somber with constant smatterings of chilled raindrops. Quintessential London in its oppressive shroud, Remus found it only fitting that the weather suit his mood. It always suited his mood.
At five thirty in the morning Remus would climb up from the Wembley Central tube station looking exactly like one would expect a person to look at five thirty in the morning. After a short walk, he would reach his destination and a blissful day of complete mundanity. The clientele at that particular Tesco was polite and as equally apathetic as their cashier. Often enough, they even spoke different languages. The store was like all its fellows- except maybe the few by his flat in the East end that were exceptionally shabby, accompanied by a brand of terrifying youth Remus had never encountered before. Everything was brightly lit with harsh white light and the isles were narrow, orderly and bland. Nothing was obtrusive or offensive. It was a very normal job. Remus wasn't sure if the job made him feel equally average or if it somehow highlighted his irregularities.
The manager was shrewd and immaculately clean, a 56 year old immigrant from India. Remus was fascinated by the way Mr. Gupta spoke with the distinct lilt, but somehow managed to make everything, even questions, sound like a demand. Despite the tight shift he ran, Mr. Gupta was surprisingly lenient with his cashier's frequent sick leaves. One time, after watching Remus intently for an afternoon (the werewolf was very nervous about this), the manager offered to take his employee to his nephew who had just finished medical school at Oxford. It took a massive amount of verbal maneuvering to slip away from Mr. Gupta's offer-demand.
There were a handful of co-cashiers that Remus interacted with depending on day of the week and time of day. None of them were particularly awful individuals. A few of them were really quite pleasant. Because it was Sunday, however, the wizard was subjected to the presence of Chantelle. The young lady didn't have much claim to that title as she was as far from a lady as possible. Remus felt bad about judging as he was often subject to the prejudice of those in the wizarding community, but Chantelle seemed to go out of her way. She was short with a thickness that suggested she was once a skinny child. A massive pile of permed, blond hair sat on her head and her day-glow pink lips held behind them a massive amount of gum that she snapped at intervals throughout her shift. Remus really wouldn't have had that much of a problem with her if her language wasn't so coarse and slurred. On the rare times she had anything to say to him, the werewolf had to stop whatever he was doing to devote all attention to decoding her dialect. She read the tabloids most of the time, favoring sensational nonsense to coherent interaction with fellow human beings. Recently, Remus discovered Chantelle lived in the apartment complex across the street from his. He was not very keen on sharing that bit of knowledge with her.
After lunch, Nazir, Mr. Gupta's other nephew joined Remus at the other register. In contrast to the Oxford graduate, the Tesco manager derived little joy from Nazir's occupation. The young man had been born in London and was a first generation Englishman with dreams of Manchester football. Remus found him refreshing with his tireless enthusiasm and fanatical love for the sport. In some pained way, though, the wizard was instantly reminded of James.
As he settled into his Sunday morning shift, Remus cast a forced smile at Chantelle, who only snapped her gum in response. Straightening his muggle clothes, he let another melancholic day begin.
Maybe if Nazir hadn't felt so positively about his own life he wouldn't be so susceptible to feeling bad for others. There was his Uncle Sahib, whose life revolved around the management of the little Tesco in Wembley after his wife and son died in the conflict with Pakistan some ten years ago. Often enough, the prospective football player would feel slightly guilty for fighting his uncle so vehemently when it came to passion versus occupation. The older man had enough to worry about. There wasn't much that could be done about that issue, though. Nazir would work dead end jobs at a thousand Tescos before he gave up his dream. Sahib Gupta would have to accept that.
Sometimes he felt inexplicably sorry for Chantelle. Recently, she had gotten into a fight with her boyfriend. It was obvious things got physical as Tuesday revealed one of her earrings torn from her lobe. The sad part was how she still wore the other chunky plastic hoop like some frumpy, store-girl pirate. It was almost distressingly pathetic to witness.
Remus Lupin, however, was a complete mystery. Nazir worked with the man regularly. They were around the same age. That was probably the only thing the two held in common. Lupin was tall and quiet and in a constant state of placid dejection. Nazir was none of these. The man spoke with even words that, despite their hoarseness, could read a child to sleep. The idea of doing books on tape was suggested by the football player on multiple occasions. Nazir got the feeling Remus didn't know what a book on tape was.
Uncle Sahib had voiced concerns over Lupin's health before. Apparently, the employee would call in sick a few days a month. Nazir's uncle would have fired Remus the second instance if the man hadn't returned to work, after two days off, looking like someone who should have still been on sick leave. The way Sahib worried for his workers was almost endearing. Still it left Nazir with a bitter taste. Employees didn't replace a lost wife and son.
That afternoon, he had the shift with Remus. It was strange being around the other man. In London, everyone seemed ready to chat football with Nazir. Not Remus Lupin, though. Remus Lupin knew next to nothing about football. The first time Nazir brought the sport up, his fellow cashier asked something along the lines of "Is that the one with the black and white ball?" leaving the young Indian to repeat the question a few times incredulously.
"What are you? An American?" he had finished with equal disbelief.
"Ah. Sorry to disappoint, Nazir. I'm as British as tea and crumpets."
Nazir only shook his head
"Not British enough for football apparently."
At this, Remus chuckled and put down the book he was reading (Remus was always reading).
"I know about rugby and..." he quirked an eyebrow as if second guessing his next word "cricket?".
"Uncle loves cricket. Says it's a real, Indian game."
"Hmm..." and Lupin would always do that. Insert the unobtrusive "hmm" when he was thinking how to respond. Nazir found the man did a large amount of thinking- it was almost excessive. He wondered if Remus simply planned out the conversation before it started, but cancelled the thought. Predicting the future was impossible anyway.
"Say, how about a game of football?"
The was a brief pause at this sudden suggestion
"I don't know Nazir... I'm not the best company."
"Nonsense. I'll take you out with my mates on the team, show you the ropes- it'll be great. You'll love it."
Another thoughtful break. A sigh.
"Well I don't have much else to do. Don't count on being impressed, though. Never was much of an athlete."
Nazir grinned impossibly wide at this, completely ignoring Remus's reluctance.
"You'll love it."
That was really how everything began. Nazir had yet to corral Remus into a game, but the weather may have been a contributing factor. Winter seemed very reluctant to relinquish its grasp on England and was going out with a endless sheet of grey, icy rain. As the constant offers of getting Remus out for a game became less concrete, they transformed into a running joke. It seemed Nazir couldn't walk into a room containing Lupin without mentioning a play date. It became a sort of humorous greeting.
On that exceptionally drab Sunday things were little different from other days.
"Hullo Remus!" Nazir called over the shop bell and followed up with "Fancy a game of football?"
"Only if you fancy a game in this weather." the man at the register countered wryly, somehow always projecting his mild voice over the din of the store. Nazir shook his head fondly, this banter had become somewhat a practiced ritual. It was pleasant.
Beside Remus in the second register, Chantelle cracked her copious wad of gum and rolled her heavily done up eyes.
"You're invited too." he told the girl.
"I ain't goin' out in that rain. Just got mah 'air done." she fluffed the cloud of perm around her head and went back to her Princess Diana spangled tabloid.
"Well, we all have our priorities." Remus commented cryptically- at least to Chantelle who was either too focused or too clueless to realize the direction of the jab. Nazir only grinned and made his way by the Cadbury display.
"I'm off to have a word with Uncle. I'll treat you to lunch?" he was past the registers and at Sahib's office door. Turning, hand grasping the knob, Nazir dodged Remus's inevitable protest
"You don't have to-"
"Great! I'll see you right after this." and slipped into the other room deftly avoiding any other word from the man. He shut the door behind him with a resolute snap.
"Getting Lupin a square meal, Nazir?" Sahib Gupta was grinning past the files and catalogues spanning his desk.
"I'm not a caretaker, Uncle. We're getting lunch as friends."
"Ah, of course." he straightened a stack of papers, quirking an eyebrow at the younger man. It was times like these when Nazir felt his uncle forgot impossible dreams and settled for being proud of his nephew for simple things like kindness to others. Behind the thick framed spectacles, Sahib's magnified eyes twinkled.
"So what is it you wanted to speak about, Nazir?" the older man stilled his hands with this query and the small office was quiet between words. Biting his lip, Nazir ventured on. Surely his uncle would not be happy with the news about to be delivered.
"I'm moving to Manchester soon." as predicted, Sahib was frowning at him.
"Have you found a job there?"
"...Sort of?" Nazir wished he didn't have to sound so unsure. His uncle was raising his eyes skyward and uttering some quiet curse.
"Sort of? Nazir, I don't know were my brother went wrong, but it appears he did not teach you the value of planning ahead."
"Why do you always have to bring my father into things?"
"My brother was never a cautious man. I see where you take after him."
"And is that a problem?"
"Yes, Nazir. It is a problem!"
"Dad taught me to take chances, Uncle Sahib!"
"Of course! And look where that got your father!"
"And look where not doing just that got you! Managing a Tesco! Where's the glory? Where's the joy in running a bloody Tesco?"
There was a horrible pause where the air in the small office was suffocating. Nazir wanted to take the whole conversation back. He felt horribly guilty. Across the desk, Sahib Gupta had his head in his hands.
"I did take a chance, Nazir." he spoke quietly through his fingers "I took it, and I lost my family."
Swallowing hard, Nazir attempted to reforge the calm with which they had talked earlier.
"Uncle..." he clenched his fist before continuing "I'm sorry Uncle, but I need to do this. I can't live any other way."
"You just can't be a good boy, can you?" the older man asked roughly, but with distinct affection. Nazir released something between a laugh and a sigh.
"I would if a could."
Shaking his head slowly, his uncle stood and rounded the desk to face Nazir. With his careworn face folded into perfect long suffering, Sahib straightened his Nephew's collar.
"At least let me help you." he said, patting the young man's shoulder.
"And come back if things don't work out."
Nazir nodded with few words to say.
"I'm sorry uncle Sahib."
"Don't be Nazir. Don't be." he stilled his hand to rest on Nazir's shoulder and they met each other's eyes for a moment.
"I believe you promised Remus Lupin lunch."
"I did."
"Well, don't keep the man waiting. We'll talk about Manchester later."
And the young football player was pushed out the door.
"Lupin!" the manager barked "Take your lunch break."
Nazir plucked the book form Remus's hands feeling less awful about the previous conversation. Now devoid of his reading material, the man gave Nazir a mock glare.
"I guess there's no way to reschedule?"
"You're not getting put of this mate. Uncle says so." they both turned to Mr. Gupta who nodded expectantly
"What are you waiting for? Lunch break isn't all afternoon."
"That's the thing about football, though! All you need is a ball." Nazir's eyes were bright and his hands busy as he explained.
"It's the world's sport. Everyone plays: the rich, the poor, men, women." he placed his fork on the rim of his plate with careful bravado. Slowly, almost in awe, he began again.
"You don't even need shoes or a field. All you need is a ball. It's amazing."
Remus was grinning at him from across the table. It was one of the first times Nazir could identify distinct happiness on the other man's face.
"Are you trying to convert me to some religion?" Remus asked, humor evident. Of course, Nazir laughed, but as his chuckles died down, he replied with a serious "Yes."
That only prompted more mirth from the other man.
"You're crazy."
Nazir only nodded. "I know."
They lapsed into a spot of easy quiet and the football player alternated between peering at his companion and gazing around the restaurant. Remus looked terribly washed out surrounded by the rich jewel-toned drapery of the Tandoori Palace. The man always looked pale and tired; Nazir would always wonder what put Remus in his state. Did he have some chronic disease? Amidst the bright cloth, those thoughts seemed especially dark and depressing and Nazir scrambled for conversation. No doubt Remus, who was prone to somber, contemplative silence, was casting his mind to even darker spaces. It would be best if Nazir said something, anything to pull them both from that sad morass. Gathering his wits, the young man began with a sharp tug.
"How's life?" upon further consideration, Nazir considered this a very poor choice of words. It was clear how Remus's life was going to someone who spent long hours with the quiet, lonely man. Sure, he could put on one hell of a brave face, but Nazir could see past that.
"Life isn't on my side at the moment, Nazir." Remus told him with that soft calm. Something wistful hinted in his words. Nazir swallowed.
"How about a lighter fare, then?" he asked with what he hoped was easy diversion. "I heard from a certain someone that another certain someone's birthday is, oh, about eleven days from now?"
The man across from him was smiling that tired smile so synonymous with Remus Lupin.
"Now, I thought my employer was not supposed to disclose personal information."
"Not if he is disclosing it to he favorite nephew!" Nazir grinned and leaned back in the booth seat. He saw Remus roll his eyes in the warm light.
"So any plans?"
"I'll visit my mother."
"Anything else?"
"Hmm. A bar of chocolate, alone in my flat?"
"Oh. You make me sound like a bad friend, Remus!" Nazir pouted and moved forward to prop his elbows on the dark wood table.
"So I have other options?" The other man was giving him that rare, humored look. Most of the time, Remus's mirth only managed to reach his voice and maybe the corners of his mouth. This instance, Nazir saw far more as his companion's eyes lit up with barely concealed mischief.
"No. You only have one option."
"And what's that?"
Nazir allowed himself a wicked smile
"I'm going to finally treat you to that game of football and then we'll go to the pub."
"You're not just saying that?" it was an odd mix of levity and tentativeness in Remus's voice; Nazir wasn't sure how to school his expression so he simply continued with dogged conviction.
"Nothing will stop that game. I don't care if it's raining, misting, bloody sleeting. Hell, if it's snowing I'll just buy you a anorak for a gift and we'll play one on one."
"I'm not getting out of this, am I?"
Nazir shook his head, glad that Remus's reluctance was mostly an act.
"You're part of the world, Remus. You need to play its game."
Wednesday, march tenth was practically astronomical compared to the Sunday eleven days prior. It must have been a greater power that ordered the planets to align on Remus's birthday. In all honesty, he had no idea what it meant. If the event had any massive metaphorical implications, they were lost in the riot of Muggles claiming apocalypse.
The part about the world ending on his birthday was somehow more believable.
Still, the orderly line the planets found themselves easily eclipsed by proceedings on one small, blue sphere in one small, insignificant country, in an even smaller insignificant city. The smallest and most insignificant of aspects was the man to whom all this happened to. Certainly, for a brief time in history when homo sapiens were the dominant creature of the planet, his name would be referenced in papers about modern war and civil rights, but in the grand scheme of the universe was that really anything?
Remus Lupin pondered this in the cold afternoon mist of London. Somehow the pondering of his inconsequential existence had lifted him from near constant brooding. It was fitting he realized this on his birthday. He was a year older after all.
So on March tenth, the planets watching from alignment, Remus followed Nazir Gupta (who had not needed to invest in an anorak) to the park in Wembley. His friend's warm eyes were bright in the grey fog and his dark hands rolled between them a ball of great consequence. Perhaps in some distant solar system where all nine of their planets also happened to be aligned, this ball was worshiped like a proper, monotheistic deity. On earth, it remained just what it was: a ball, but if one observed reverence with which Nazir held it, they might have thought otherwise.
Grinning, the young man spun to glance at Remus.
"I know the weather is awful, but a promise is a promise. And it's totally worth it."
"I'm not complaining." said the man who had come to Nazir's world to escape.
On March tenth, 1982, when all nine planets aligned, something else fell into place in Remus Lupin's tattered life. What was once deemed an easy avoidance of what was lost, became something more. Because good people who went out of their way to do good things existed even in the most mundane, most non-magical places. And that in itself was astronomical.
Remus didn't mind the weather as they passed through the park gates and walked onto the empty football field. They sat on the bench for a few minutes as Nazir explained the game. All the while cold damp seeped into both men. Nazir apologized for the weather a fifth time when Remus quieted him.
"I don't mind the mist" he smiled fully and genuine "Something about it makes me feel more alive than I've felt in ages." Nazir nodded at this like some tacit truth engraved on every plaque in the universe.
Moments later they were on the green playing one on one, puffing great exhales of steam into the late winter air. Nazir was excellent. Remus could hardly stay upright. All the while he was grinning, closer to the world than ever before.
"Everyone in the world plays football." Nazir had told him once, months before
"And it makes everyone part of the world."
He was stumbling across the field, slick with dew. Water clung to his skin and the exertion made him hot in the cold air. He breathed in sharp and hard, the world smelling fresh and clean. Never before had Remus felt so truly and sincerely included.
Final note: the planets did actually align on March tenth 1982- okay... Maybe they didn't align perfectly but they were juat degrees away from a true zysygy (that is actually a word). Events like that only happen in a millennia. Congrats to those of you alive then! Also, hope my britishims were accurate! I'm doing my research.