Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Café Désolé, meaning approximately "Café of Sorrow", is a play on words from Café Du Soleil, which means "Café of Sunshine". I don't speak French except for these itty bitty bits of spare knowledge, so don't expect any more French in this story.
Be forewarned, this story is extremely AU! There are time jumps and discrepancies from the original story, and some hopefully justifiable OC behavior. Please note - Remus DOES NOT KNOW that his friends were animagi, but they DO KNOW that he is a werewolf. They are still wizards/witches, but unusual circumstances have landed them in a muggle lifestyle. Hopefully all confusion will be cleared up as I go along.
Café Désolé
by
Norikio Na No Da
Chapter One
{1982}
Remus was dragging the trash out into the alley beside the café when Lily posed her question.
"Why the fuck is it named 'The Hog's Wart', anyway?"
She cursed a lot these days.
She was sitting on a stack of overturned green plastic crates by the kitchen door and patting her pockets for a pack of cigarettes. When she found the pack she tilted it invitingly in her friend's direction, but he shook his head no, so she fished one cigarette out and slipped the rest back into her pocket. Her auburn hair caught the light of the lamp over the door, split-ended and frizzed from exhaustion, but still exceptionally beautiful. Even the heavy dark smudges under her eyes and the unhealthy, unhappy tint to her skin could not blot out the underlying beauty. Some people were just like that.
"I just don't understand why anyone would want to eat at a place with such an unsanitary name." Lily cupped one hand over the cigarette and flicked impatiently at her lighter until it sparked a red glow.
"Likely riding the coattails of Hogwarts School," Remus suggested.
"One would assume, except that the majority of our customers are muggles and therefore don't know anything about Hogwarts School."
"Well, then, I suppose it's meant to have a rustic sound," he said, leaning wearily against the wall beside her. "The sort of place manly blokes named Harold or Steve can take shots of hard liquor and pinch the bottoms of the waiting staff in passing."
"No one's pinched my bottom."
"Just mine, then."
He twitched his fingers towards her with a sigh of resignation and she handed him her cigarette. He took a long, deep drag on it before handing it back, then let white smoke curl up from his parted lips into the damp evening air, and watched it dissipate with disgust.
"You shouldn't have let me done that," he said. "I'd gone three days without a smoke."
"Well. I was getting lonely at day zero."
They sat in comfortable silence until the cigarette had burned nearly to its filter. The manager was out for the evening and had left the café in his two most reliable young waiters' hands, so of course they'd locked up an hour early and washed the dishes listening to the radio turned up at full volume in the kitchen. Remus would probably have felt guiltier about shirking his responsibilities if the full moon wasn't so near – once a prefect, always a prefect, as they say, even when one is bussing tables in a seedy café – but when the full moon approached he just couldn't be bothered to put the amount of care and discretion into his work as he usually did.
At last Lily stood. "Well, I'm gone," she said, holding out what was left of the cigarette to her companion. "Go on, finish up. You've already had a drag today. You can try quitting again tomorrow."
"Bloody self-help book, you are."
"Aren't I? Lock up when you go, Rem." She kissed him on the cheek. "And careful walking home."
The kitchen door clicked shut behind her.
There was nothing alluring about the half-cigarette she'd left behind, but he sucked on the end out of habit, hunched by the wall with his left arm curled against him to ward off chill. It was a warm night, but the days preceding and following his transformations had always left him tired and cold. He pushed light brown hair out of his eyes with the heel of his hand and peered down to the end of the alley.
A dog-shaped silhouette passed the opening.
Remus frowned and straightened up quickly. He supposed it was a little hypocritical to be wary of dogs, considering his monthly bouts of devolved dogginess, but stray animals wandering the city streets were bound to be carrying all sorts of infectious diseases. It was better to stay clear of them. He stubbed the cigarette out on the wall behind him and tossed the butt into a trashcan, then went inside to lock up and turn out the lights.
When he stepped out onto the sidewalk a few minutes later, the dog was sitting across the street watching him.
The creature looked equal parts dangerous and pathetic. It was large, wolfhound-large, but lean, and its dark fur was matted with filth. Muscled strength practically rippled under the neglected coat. Its eyes regarded him with interest, but it didn't look like it was going to attack him or approach him. Still, he kept it in the periphery of his vision as he locked the café door and started down the street for the bus stop. The dog made no move to follow, but was undoubtedly still watching him, following him with its eyes until he was around the corner. The relief of escaping its intense stare was almost palpable, and he let out a shaky breath as he sank down on the bus stop bench the next block over.
Odd that this was his life, now.
{1977}
Hogwarts, Seventh Year
Lily Evans slid into the seat next to his and, under the pretense of handing him a book, whispered keenly in his ear, "I want you to take me to the dance this Friday evening."
With an amused smirk he showed to a very select group of people, Remus said, "I don't know, Lily, what with my many, many girlfriends all vying for my attention. Do you think you could possibly compete?"
"Ah yes, but I'm your favorite, aren't I?"
His smirk relaxed into an honest smile. "James would never forgive me." He shook his head and opened the random book she had placed in front of him, an act of habit - some old, collected works of an overrated poet he didn't care for. Still he flicked through the pages. "He's already barely on speaking terms with me because I'm on speaking terms with you and he isn't. It sounds so very complicated, doesn't it...?"
"But it's for James' benefit that I ask you."
"Oh?"
"Well, of course the wanker's going to ask me to go to the dance," she elaborated, "and of course I'm going to tell him no." She turned towards him slightly on the library bench, curling one leg beneath her and looking conspiratorial. "If I said yes, then he would take me to the dance, and he wouldn't actually dance, would he? No boys dance at school dances unless they absolutely have to. And if he wants the honor of escorting me anywhere, he has to work for it."
"Go on."
"I want to see James Potter dance for my affections."
He laughed quietly. "Well if anyone's going to make James Potter dance - sober - it's going to be you."
"Right. So you will take me to the dance, and he will put on one great bloody peacock display to win me over, and I will say - "
"'James Potter, you wanker, stop that this instant'." They said it as one.
" - and he will say something appropriately stupid, and I will sigh and make him dance a slow dance with me, but he'll think it was his idea all along, and he will wink at Sirius, and I will wink at you, and then he'll escort me back to the Common Room, whereupon he will kiss me on the cheek, like the gentleman I will train him to become if it takes me my whole life so help me God, and we will say goodnight and part ways, and then...!" She clasped her hands together quietly, so that Madame Pince with her hypersensitive ears would not shush them from the other side of the library, then rocked back on the bench confidently. "I will have him. At no cost to myself, and no detriment to my dignity or my standing as a lady of power and authority in this school."
"Ingenious," he drawled. "What shall I tell him when he tries to punch me for taking his prospective girlfriend to the dance?"
"Oh, he wouldn't dare." She said it with utmost confidence that made him wonder. Then she took his hand in hers. "Please, Remus? You won't even have to dance, being my date and all."
"Well...alright. I'll have to cancel my other plans. Denise, Karen, Beryl, Candice and Alice will all be shattered. But you are, as you say, my favorite girl."
She squealed softly, with the kind of eloquence that most girls can't muster while squealing. "Thank you, thank you! You're truly an angel. I'll expect you at the foot of the girls' dormitory stairs, Friday evening, looking handsome and polished as always." She stood up and kissed his cheek, radiating happiness. "I'm off. And by the by, Remus..." She leaned in and whispered this last bit in his ear. "Sirius is watching you."
He didn't see her scuttle out the library door, preoccupied as he was with turning to catch a glimpse of Sirius; Sirius, who, at a distance, looked away hastily, and accidentally knocked a study group's pile of research texts over in his haste. Sirius helped the students stack the books back up again, then glanced up and waved breezily at Remus, as though just happening to spot him in the library and offhandedly saying hello.
Remus waved back and looked down at his book of bad poetry, smiling.
{1982}
Lily didn't glow anymore. Or squeal. Or smile, all that much. And neither did he.
But Remus didn't realize that Sirius was still watching him.
TBC...
A/N: I hope you've enjoyed it so far! (And kindly let me know if you did!)