AN: Hello readership, thanks for giving this a go. This is sort of a teaser chapter just to test the water a bit, so please do let me know what you think; your input is massively important to me. This is an AU story for obvious reasons. Also, Sirius may pop up at some point but this won't be slash just to warn you. JK owns all, including me. Hope you enjoy it!
The joints in Remus' knees creaked as he forced himself up the next staircase, leaning heavily on the handrail that was on the verge of coming out of the wall. One more flight, he told himself, gritting his teeth. It was getting worse, he was certain. Every month he did this walk and every time it was worse.
First there was the painful shock of consciousness, followed by ten minutes of desperately willing his tired body to get up off the frigid concrete and put some clothes on. Once that was done, he'd stumble out into the seemingly blinding light of the dull, grey morning, locking the metal door behind him. He'd discovered the disused concrete building when he'd first moved into the area and it had proved invaluable. It was set a little way from the reclaimed council estate he lived on and used to be where the generator, circuit boards and other stuff with lots of wires (he didn't claim to be an expert on what exactly these were) were kept and was consequently covered in bright yellow stickers warning people to keep out. The generator was long gone now though, so with a few added wards the place was safe to transform in without danger of escape, discovery or electrocution.
After sneaking out, he'd then walk past the young lads who sat on the low wall outside the estate smoking and throwing dark looks at him before he reached the graffiti covered stairwell. Then there were the flights upon flights of increasingly insurmountable stairs and then finally, finally the comparative heaven that was Remus' flat.
It was a one-bedroom affair with a small dingy kitchen, a living room furnished with previous tenants unwanted furniture and a lightly moulding bathroom. Remus called it minimalist when he was feeling generous; a shit hole when he wasn't. But it was home and that was what really mattered. It was somewhere to sleep and eat and that's all he really needed.
He'd been living in the muggle world for a while. It was better than the constant pitying glances or the suspicious looks when he missed yet another day of work. Here, he was nobody, just that shabby looking bloke who lives at number 115. He liked it that way.
But there was no escaping the fact that he was impoverished. He'd gotten jobs, he'd lost jobs, same as always but this had been a long period of unemployment even by his fairly low standards. Qualifications, that was the problem. He had a rather impressive set of them but unfortunately none that could be applied in the muggle world, so consequently it was dead end jobs or nothing. It was infinitely frustrating. Day in, day out, he would wake up at 7.30, go to some unrewarding , unstimulating ball ache of a job and spend the next eight hours stacking shelves, or assembling parts, or flipping burgers in some undignified uniform that would have had James cackling in delight. He was bored. And worse than that, he had no one to share that boredom with.
Which was why, when his grandmother, a muggle, suggested he did something with himself and become a teacher or something (she'd also suggested fireman, doctor, lawyer, priest and astronaut. Privately, Remus thought she just wanted him to stop coming to her house, eating all her chocolate and complaining about work. He couldn't really blame her. He bored himself), he leapt at the idea. He was good with children, patient and knew the basics. It was a job that carried a reward beyond money. It was a new start.
So he lied. He applied for a job and he lied. According to his application he had: nine O levels; seven at A, two at B; Three A levels; all at an A grade; a second-class degree from the University of Bristol in history and had also achieved Qualified Teacher Status. It was all absolute bollocks and he loved it. It sparked a feeling of gnawing excitement deep inside him that he hadn't felt since he, Sirius, James and Peter had been causing mayhem in Hogwarts. Of course, it required forgeries of many documents, all of which was not only hugely illegal but also completely immoral and, if he were caught, would lead to prison and accusations far worse than 'werewolf'.
But he wouldn't be caught because he was good at that sort of thing. It shamed him to say it, and he in no way meant it as a boast, but he was a brilliant liar. He could lie for England. Sirius… no, Black, he reminded himself… had told him it was the lethal combination of his soft Yorkishire accent and his ability to look earnest whilst telling the most barefaced of lies. It had gotten them out of trouble on countless occasions, solely because the teachers seemed to find it inconceivable that Remus Lupin, Gryffindor prefect, would lie to them. And it was for that reason that Remus knew he could and would get away with it. So he forged his documents and applied for a job.
He'd gotten to the interview stage much to his delight and fared well, fabricating his "wonderful" experiences as a teacher's assistant but speaking quite honestly about his desire to teach and do something truly valuable. He couldn't say if it had done well enough to get him the job however. Now it was just a waiting game.
It wasn't until he dragged himself through his front door that fateful morning that he saw the reply. There, lying innocuously on the doormat, was his future. With slightly trembling hands he picked the letter up and limped to the sagging sofa, collapsing onto it with an audible sigh of relief. He turned the envelope over a few times in his hands, chewing his lower lip before he took a deep breath and picked the envelope open.
As with all long awaited letters, he didn't read it properly, just scanned it, searching desperately for the words that would make or break him.
Mr Lupin… Thank you… application… St. Grogory's Primary…much consideration… many candidates… competitive… uniquely qualified… we are pleased…
YES. There it was.
We are pleased.
Merlin, what beautiful words. He read it properly then, savouring each word, unable to keep the grin off his face. Finally, something to make it all worth it. It wasn't friends, it wasn't family but it was opportunity and Remus was done waiting.
AN: Quick note regarding Remus' made up qualifications: O levels are what preceded GCSEs in the UK. They're pretty much the same thing- just think OWLS. They're what Remus would have taken had he gone to a muggle secondary school at the time. Historical accuracy, yo.