A quick explanation of this: 8 days - 8 fics is a challenge we created with a friend. Basically, for 8 days, I'll be writing a fic a day (based on 10 days / 10 songs by PV Nova, a french youtuber/musician) with conditions we came up with and that I pick randomly each day. Even if the fics are part of the same challenge, they can all be read apart, nothing connect them. Now, it's called 7 days 7 fics on FF because one of the days was about OCs, but I won't be posting that on FF.

Today's conditions were: Prompt "I am very, very bad under pressure" - Fandom Harry Potter - Category Crossover (Fandom picked up randomly among the other I wrote about: Friends) - Imposed word glitters (suggested by a friend)

I really didn't mean for this to be so long, but I kinda got carried away... I liked the idea of two characters I loved talking together, I guess. And I wanted to avoid the more classical "the characters from a fandom in their Hogwarts houses" so I came up with this! It's mainly about Remus & Chandler, it's after Kip moved out but before Joey moved in, and for Remus it's a bit before he's being offered a job at Hogwarts (so, late 1992 or early 1993, probably)

The man entered the Muggle bar, surprised that it wasn't as crowded as he would have thought. It was probably due to the fact that it was the middle of the week, and still pretty early. Remus scanned the room, trying to guess if there were any wizards. He relaxed a bit when he saw no sign of magic, and ordered a beer. He ignored the few looks people gave him, now having understood that people couldn't instantly guess that he was out of place – by being a wizard, or a werewolf. He just looked like a hobo, for both Muggles and people accustomed to the Magical Word. He sighed, looking around. He was running low on money, but he had a Muggle job, now. It was shitty, underpaid, and probably not very legal, but he still could live here. If he actually found a place to live in, that is. So far, that had been unsuccessful.

He looked around, spotting a group of friends at the pool table. They seemed to be having fun, and Remus thought about the easy years he'd had.

"Oh come on, just shoot already!" the smallest person of the group almost shouted in the ears of the man apparently too concentrated into aiming.

Her friend straightened and looked at her defiantly. "You know I am very, very bad under pressure."

"Just move the game," she rolled her eyes.

He grinned, leaned a bit against the table, and did a really good shot, much to the woman's dismay. He stuck his tongue out for more impact, chuckling when the girl seemed ready to strangle him.

Remus smiled fondly, the two friends reminding him of James and Lily. They'd shared the same competitive mindset, at times, and the same ridiculous situations where one would pretend to be destabilized, only to do something really well right after. He had loved witnessing them grow into their relationship, until they had become responsible adults with a child. He sure wouldn't have bet on James having a child so soon, but he had been a wonderful father.

Remus shook his head, knowing what was coming. More guilt – survivor guilt, as he had overheard someone from the Order say once. And maybe it was exactly that. He had survived – he, the werewolf, the one that dealt with loneliness badly, the one destined to end up alone and probably murdered in a dark alley for what he was – he had survived a war that all his friends had lost.

Coming to America hadn't been that great an idea, but there were rumours about that awful Dolores Umbridge gaining more and more power in the Minister of Magic, and he knew she was deeply against werewolves. It was a bad time to be in England, and he had fled to America in the hope of finding a better life there – and because the occasion had presented itself. It hadn't been the best solution, but he had managed to find a spot to spend full moons in – he simply had to disapparate once a month to the place, spend an awful night there, and come back the next day.

One of the friends of the group left, saying something about his wife, and Remus was surprised to hear that he was married. He had unintentionally listened to and watched them, finding similarities with his former group of friends – dead friends, as his mind liked to remind him. They seemed to be young, maximum twenty-five years old, he hadn't expected one of them to be married – mainly because he was out with his friends in the middle of the week.

The two friends that had argued childishly continued playing, while their blond friend simply watched, talking with them. Remus had concluded that the two were a couple, in the way they played against each other, and behaved towards one another. He didn't usually stare at people like this, but the group seemed interesting, and he liked to see that what he'd shared with his own group of friends happened to other people. Maybe he missed it, too.

"Oh, oh!" the blond girl said after a while, as if suddenly struck by some thoughts. "I have a date right now!"

"Pheebs..." the guy started, but got interrupted.

"Well, I just forgot, okay?" she defended herself, and Remus smiled despite himself.

When she was gone, the couple – definitely a couple in the way they seemed to be communicating with only stares – still continued playing, the woman leading the game.

"So, who's gonna be your next room-mate?" she asked, looking like she was calculating the game ahead.

"I don't know, maybe no one?"

"Really?"

"I make enough to pay for the place myself," he shrugged, pouting when she took more advance in the game. "And I feel like it's too much drama."

"I'm sorry about Kip," she said, moving away to let him study the table for his next move.

"Not as much as I am," he sighed. "And I searched for someone, but there are only weirdos around."

"I found someone," she said, staring at him intensively as he finally played.

"What did I just say?" he chuckled, nudging her.

"Okay, Phoebe's weird, but she became a great friend! First impressions can be misleading," she said, patting his shoulders as she took place to play.

"Right... But the last few guys were just... creeps, you know? I mean, the guy with the eight dogs? Nope. And the glitters guy? How weird was that?!"

"The glitters guy?"

"You don't want to know," he shuddered at the memory. "Then there was the guy who talked only with his puppet, the one who changed accent every two sentences, the one who didn't even talk English! Maybe I just need to be alone for a while."

"Now, don't say that," she smiled, rubbing his arm.

"You know what I mean," he shook his head.

"And we're done!" she exclaimed as she eventually won the game. He groaned good naturedly, and they both left the table for someone else to play.

Remus, who was still listening and looking, got up without thinking, walking in front of them before they got out.

"I couldn't help but overhear," he said, surprised by his own behaviour. He wouldn't usually start a conversation suddenly like this.

"You mean you listened to us?"

"The point is, I need a place to crash at, and you sound like you have a spare room..." he said hesitantly.

The woman smiled, almost hitting her friend when he was clearly about to say no.

"Okay, come with us," the man said instead. He leaned against his friend, not so discreetly whispering, "if he murders us tonight, that's on you."

She giggled, but repressed it quickly, walking out the bar.

"It's a great location, actually right here," she said, pointing at the building above their heads. "In the heart of the city, the rent is okay, and the place is nice."

"I'm sorry, do you want to decide for me, too?" her friend asked.

"Well, you gotta sell the place! I'm Monica, by the way." She offered her hand as they were climbing the stairs, and Remus hesitated only a second before shaking it.

"Remus," he smiled shyly.

The man walking ahead scoffed. "Hey, are you a wolf?" he grinned, turning half to him. Remus stiffened, the colours leaving his face. What? How? Did he have to get out of here fast? "No, no, I can do better! How's your brother? Are you from Italy? Was creating Rome hard?"

"Don't mind him, he makes jokes when he's... Well, he makes jokes," Monica explained, and Remus relaxed, understanding the man was just finding jokes related to Remus and Romulus – he should have known, his friends had come up with more than one joke about his name, especially after finding how ironic it was.

"Nice to meet you," the man said, waving at him as they stopped in front of a door. "I'm Chandler."

"Chandler?"

"Wait until you hear the rest of it," Monica laughed.

"Bing."

"I'm sorry, what?" Remus asked as the man was searching for his keys.

"That's the rest of it. Chandler Bing," Chandler clarified, smiling.

"Oh. I'm Remus Lupin."

"Last name's Geller!" Monica said enthusiastically.

"Thanks, Mon." Chandler rolled his eyes, then pointed at the door opposite to the one they were in front of. He had his keys in his hands – finally – but didn't open the door yet.

"What about you go back to your place? I can even walk you home."

"Oh, you're no fun," she sighed, then turned to Remus. "Hey, I forgot. Chandler's got the best neighbours! I live right across the hall, with another friend."

"They're very annoying," Chandler nodded thoughtfully, opening his door.

"He pretends to hate us, but he spends his life over at ours. I'm suspecting he secretly wants our apartment."

Chandler made a childish noise of disagreement, inviting Remus to come in, Monica following them without being invited to. Remus chuckled, quickly checking the place. It seemed clean, and bigger than where he was living currently – anything would be better than his current place, actually. He then smiled at the couple who was apparently back at communicating with their eyes.

"Aren't you guys living together?" he asked distractedly, checking some Muggle technology on the kitchen counter, pretending to know what its purpose was.

"No, why would we?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know for how long you've been dating," he said, tilting his head as he looked around again. He turned on himself, facing the couple again, when there was a silence followed by two nervous laughs.

"Er, we're not... I'm not..."

"We're not dating," Monica said quickly. "We're just good friends."

"Oh, God, sorry. I just assumed you were..."

"It's okay," she smiled.

"So, do you want to know anything about the apartment?" Chandler asked, clasping his hands together, obviously wanting to change the subject.

"Where's the chimney?"

Chandler laughed, then swallowed it when he realised Remus was seriously asking. "The what?"

Remus had asked a lot of weird questions, until he had suddenly stopped, and said he was interested in the place. Chandler still didn't really know how this had happened. He hadn't even been looking for a flatmate, but he had one, and he was pretty sure it was Monica's fault.

But that Remus guy was nice, at least. And he wasn't hitting on any of Chandler's friends, which was a good thing, but he wasn't really trying to be their friends either. He was really weird – more so than Phoebe, and in a different way – and Chandler had quickly understood that it wasn't that he didn't like his friends. He wanted to be their friends, but something was holding him back. Chandler didn't tell anyone, because he didn't want to explain that he had felt like this while growing up – which explained how he just knew what was happening – and he tried to find out more about Remus instead, but that didn't really work.

He was a private person, and friendly enough for Chandler to forget that he was trying to discover things about him. It bothered Chandler at first, then he got used to it. He didn't see Remus a lot, but they shared some stories. All that Chandler found out was that they both had a pretty lonely childhood, although Remus seemed to have found great friends earlier on. He had only mentioned that once, and had shut down immediately after. Chandler hadn't insisted on the subject.

He jumped when Remus entered early one morning, slamming the door behind him – which he never did. He seemed in a hurry, holding a piece of paper in his hand. He put something on the kitchen counter, then disappeared in his bedroom. Chandler frowned and reached for the piece of wood he had already seen, but never really asked about. As he was about to pick it up, Remus ran out of the room.

"Don't touch that!" he shouted, taking it quickly.

Instead, the piece of paper he had been holding fell, but he didn't see it and went back to his room. Chandler unfolded the paper, curious. He read "We know who you are." and frowned at the perfect circle drawn above the few words. What did that mean? What had he gotten himself into, again? Was Remus actually a killer? A criminal of some sort?

He turned the paper, reading "get out of our country," at the back, and it worried him more. Before he could move, Remus got out of his room, carrying a suitcase.

"What's this?" Chandler asked, showing the paper. "Are you some kind of spy?" He was trying to joke, but he was worried it might be true.

"No," Remus snapped, taking the paper from him. "I'm... a writer," he said quickly.

"A writer?"

"An unappreciated one," he shrugged. "Look, you've been nice, really nice, and it's been great, to get a taste of... normal life. Other life. But I have to go back to where I come from."

"England?" Chandler offered, having picked up on his accent. And he had used it as an explanation of Remus being weird, too.

"Yes," Remus said, pursing his lips, looking hesitant. "It was really nice meeting you, Chandler. Your friends are good people, too."

"Wait," Chandler called, a bit taken aback by how fast Remus had changed, and seemed to be leaving. "Don't you need help to move out?"

"It's f-" Remus stopped mid-sentence, then smiled. "Help would be appreciated."

Chandler nodded, going into the bedroom that wasn't his, only to find it empty. Well, the bed that had belonged to Kip was still there, and the cupboard Chandler had bought when he had moved in too, but anything that had belonged to Remus was gone. He had already been impressed by how fast he had moved everything in – he didn't have much, but Chandler hadn't even seen him moving boxes – but this was just impossible.

"Remus, your-" Chandler frowned when he came back to an empty living room. Remus was gone, and he hadn't even heard the door.

He walked to the door, seeing that it was looked, which was even more impressive from Remus. He had been so quick and silent. Chandler turned on himself, sighing at the emptiness of his apartment now that his room-mate for a few days was gone, leaving his key behind.

It stayed one of Chandler's weirdest and most inexplicable memory. If his friends hadn't seen Remus, he would have believed it to be a dream, but they all had. He often wondered if Remus was okay, seeing how distressed he had looked before leaving, but he never met him again.