A/N: Wow. I LIVE! Lol. It has been a while since I last wrote. Quickest update on my life: over the last year I matured some, I depressed some. Whatever you want to call it. Either way I'm not quite so bouncy happy anymore. Hope you enjoy this story. Here's a full summary, since I think the one before the fic got cut off.
Remus Lupin is having a little trouble coping with the loss of his good friend. He takes a vacation to relieve himself of the tension and heartache. Guess where he decides to go? That's right. Our favorite werewolf is coming to the USA. Hence the title. While on vacation, Remus is going to meet someone who just may fix his hurtin' heart. RemusXOC. The title is a play on the old movie "An American Werewolf in London", although this fic is totally different. (And also, that movie was horrible! Werewolves look nothing like that, I mean those werewolves looked like bears! Hmph.)
It was about nine in the morning, a warm morning. The sun shone down through a cloudless sky. Birds were still singing that morning song. People were moving around outside, walking, enjoying the crisp fresh air. Yes, it was indeed a fair London morning when Remus decided he couldn't stand it anymore.
Grimmauld Place, no less dreary or drab then ever, had become almost hauntingly so since…the incident at the Department of Mysteries. The werewolf sighed. It was too hard to call it anything but that.
Downstairs he could hear other people milling around, the earlier risers of the residence. Probably Molly and some of her children, getting breakfast on the table. Sighing Remus rolled over, and pulled his warm comforter closer around him. Despite how warm it might be outside, this part of the grand house always seemed quite cold. Remus had some theories about that, but none that he cared to think about now.
His room was on the first floor, down one of those large pathways. It happened to be the room right next to Sirius's old one. Great…Now that he'd gotten himself thinking about his old school friend, Lupin knew there was no way to forget him. With a growl, he jumped out of his bed and dressed quickly.
As he pulled on his tattered old robes, Remus observed himself in the full length mirror. Just three days ago it had been full moon, and the aftereffects were still evident. His skin was pasty, almost translucent. All around his eyes were dark patches of gray, and the lines there were more obvious too. Werewolves, as Remus had learned fifteen years ago, were not keen on grief. In fact, they couldn't stand it. His latest transformation had been nothing short of hell, only topped by the first transformation after the Potters' death. Dark red scratches crisscrossed on his chest, making the long silvery scar that he'd born for years even more noticeable. Remus noted vaguely that his ribs were sticking out just a bit, and perhaps his robes were too loose on him. At the moment it mattered very little.
Stumbling out of the room, Remus nearly ran into Fred-or maybe it was George-Weasley. Whichever twin it was gave Remus a small smile and excused himself before moving on. The werewolf blinked in his direction, attempting to stutter out a response.
"N-no. My fault." but alas, it was too late. The redhead had moved out of earshot down the hallway, exiting through the door that would take him back into the main hall. After another moment's hesitation, Remus followed him. Once inside the entrance hall he turned and went down to the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. As he came into the room he observed that the other house members were already there. They looked up as he approached.
"Remus, dear, you're up! Join us, will you." Molly Weasley smiled brightly at him as she motioned for him to take a seat. "I was just putting breakfast on the table." Silently Remus sat down opposite Ginny, who also gave him a smile. In an attempt to smile back, he may have grimaced her way. Really, all these cheery people. Sirius would have been sick, or else punched some sense into these unfeeling people. Remus' stomach clenched painfully as the food was placed before him.
"Thank you, Molly." Remus tried to smile again, this time succeeding in making it seem realistic. Around the table the usual morning chatter picked up; Molly was admonishing Mundungus for bringing in another illegal animal, Dung was defending himself, the twins were happily telling Ginny about their joke shop, Kingsly and Tonks were deep in conversation about some Order job, Hermione and Ron were debating whether or not they should contact Harry. Slowly the werewolf ate his food, listening to it all and rarely saying a word. He only spoke if spoken to, and these words were usually short. It really was an endeavor to contain one's feelings surrounded by people like this. Also, despite his best efforts, Molly's wonderful cooking only tasted like ash in his mouth.
Remus finished what he could rather quickly, and pushed back from the table. He excused himself, sighing with weary, pretending that his exhaustion and lack of appetite were do to the recently passed full moon. Although she seemed loathe to let him go, Molly only smiled at him as he exited the room.
Three hours later, after he'd done nothing but stare at the dark ceiling, Remus decided something. His bedroom was rather boring. To relieve himself from the unending dullness of it, he grabbed a book and headed towards the study.
On the way up the stairs he bumped, quite literally, into Molly Weasley going down the stairs. Losing his footing, Remus tumbled down a few steps. Molly, so as not to fall down with him, sat down on the stair beneath her. Since he was quicker to regain his footing, and being a gentleman, Remus offered Molly a hand.
"Thank you, Remus. I'm sorry, I'm afraid I was not looking where I was going." She said, smoothing her red hair back into it's bun.
"Nonsense, Molly. The fault is mine. I was walking much too fast and was lost in thought. I should be the one to apologize." Remus countered, his soft voice flowing over the words. He could be quite charming, this man.
"We were both at fault. Say, it's about lunch time. Would you care to accompany me down to eat? I was going to whip up some sandwiches."
"No thanks. I'm not hungry. I was just going up to read, actually." Remus indicated his book.
"Ah. I see. Perhaps I will send something up to you. You really should eat, you know. You're nothing but skin and bones."
With her motherly nature, Molly Weasley was sure to watch over him. There was nothing that would keep her from coddling him. Remus nodded, sensing it was easier to just agree to it. Quick as he could he moved past her and up the final few stairs to the study.
He hadn't been there long when the door reopened. Assuming it was the sandwiches Molly had said she's send up, Remus book-marked his page and looked up. If he had been expecting a Weasley he was terribly mistaken. Standing in the doorway, framed by the light from the hallway, was an elderly man. His gray hair matched his beard and both were long enough to nearly touch the floor. On his person he wore midnight blue robes, and just beneath the hem big black boots were visible. Dumbledore, looking over his half-moon spectacles at Remus, was carrying a large silver tray of sandwiches.
"Dumbledore! What a pleasant surprise." Remus voiced cheerily, motioning with his arm at the chair across the coffee table from his own. "Please, take a seat. If those are the sandwiches Molly said she'd send up, I'd be more then happy to share. I don't doubt there are too many for just me."
Dumbledore smiled a little, an echo of his usual smile. "Thank you, Remus. These are indeed sandwiches that Molly was sending up here. Since I was already looking to have a chat with you, I offered to bring them up with me." The old man took the seat across from Remus, setting the tray down on the table between them. For a moment Dumbledore and Remus looked at each other, the former trying to read the look in his ex-pupil's eyes and the latter attempting to hide what was so forcibly being read. After a few more seconds the brunette looked down at the tray as he grabbed himself a sandwich. Not that he was really hungry, but anything to look away. He took a bite; it was a turkey and Swiss sandwich, but he couldn't really taste it.
"So, you said you wanted to talk to me?" Remus asked after swallowing.
"Yes." Dumbledore answered, but did not immediately elaborate. He too took a sandwich, effectively using it to buy time.
When he couldn't stand the silence any longer, Remus questioned "What about?"
"Remus, in light of recent," Dumbledore paused, "events, new stress has been brought on all the order. However, none have become more stressed then you. Perhaps it would be wise to take time off in order to grieve for our losses."
Remus gazed at his former Headmaster for a short while. Sometimes the formalities and polite chatter bothered the werewolf, but the formal talk made it easier in the end. No one could guess how you were feeling if all your words came out emotionless. Still, to think of Sirius as a "loss", and one mentioned so lightly, made the blood in his body run cold.
"I do not think I have become more stressed then all others." Remus, thinking of Harry, chose his words carefully, "The work the Order of the Phoenix does is so greatly important that to take time off, for a reason of mere stress, seems totally undoable." They shared a look, in which Dumbledore got a glint of the feeling behind the words. He was about to say something when Remus continued, "However, it is no light matter that creates the stress. Perhaps you are right, a vacation would do me some good. If I may, I would take one."
"You may. I have already arranged it for you. You will be taking a trip to Los Angeles, California. I have the plane tickets right here." Dumbledore pulled two British Airlines tickets from his robe pocket and set them beside the forgotten plate of sandwiches. Remus glanced down at them, thinking it highly remarkable that in all that he had forgotten or disregarded about his friends over the years Dumbledore managed to remember Remus' desire to visit the States and his comfort with Muggle transportation.
"Thank you. I know I shall enjoy this vacation." Remus smiled at him, but Dumbledore did not miss it's falsities. The older man took another sandwich and left the room, smiling benignly and waving jovially as he left. The werewolf picked up his book and continued to read, nearly laughing. Dumbledore thought a vacation would help him escape? How very wrong he was.
"Flight 47, now boarding at Gate 18." boomed a large box overhead. It crackled as the voice faded out. Remus jumped up, moving towards the gate the voice had said. Handing the lady standing by the gate the ticket, he walked out to the plane.
It wasn't long until Remus had located his coach seat and sat down. He squirmed around a little to get comfortable. The flight attendants strolled up and down the isles, asking people to put on their seat belts and taking requests for drinks. As one passed Remus asked her for a pillow and blanket set. She smiled at him, reminding him to keep his seat buckled, and walked away to get it. When she returned she handed it to him, and then leaned over him to ask the woman next to him if she wanted anything. Remus didn't care. He put the pillow underneath his head and spread the blanket over him, getting comfortable as he prepared to sleep through the flight. The jets started, the plane moved forward, the flight attendants took their seats as well, and everybody got ready. Soon the plane was taking off, the wheels tucking away, the sky rushing down to meet the plane. But Remus was already asleep.
So, what you think? I think I rushed that ending and the writing came out bad. Ah well. More chapters to come. Please please review. Flame me if ya want to, I suppose. Tell me to never write again. Just tell me something. I LOVE reviews.