Notes: These first couple of chapters are Remus/MaleOC but the rest is for all the Wolfstar fans out there. I'm of the opinion that our dear Remus is in need of some more lovin', the poor guy, and while I don't get the appeal of dark, exotic men (my family is ethnic, so naturally I rebel and have a thing for pale red-heads – hello, Ginny), I thought Remus would.

As I said, I grew up in an ethnic family and lived for some time in Mexico, so parts of this story stem from there. I don't know if Spanish people are vastly different although I did do some research (and apparently they love empanadas as much as I do!). Also, please imagine that Madrid has a beach! I know, my lazy inaccuracy sucks.

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Chapter 1: A Spanish Sunset

Warm sand gave way beneath Remus' bare feet and he deliberately sunk his toes into the golden grains with each step. He smiled slightly and, even though he knew he would regret it later, he allowed the frayed ends of his muggle jeans to drag through the sand with a satisfying scrape, gathering the grains. People paid him no mind; the locals were used to tourists, even ones dressed in baggy sweaters and worn jeans walking along the edge of the beach, and tourists were consumed by the escape they found in their Spanish holiday.

His grandmother on his mother's side had passed away only a few months ago and in her will she'd left orders for a holiday to be arranged for her only daughter, her daughter's husband and their only son, Remus, to go to Spain for three weeks. It was a destination Remus' mother had always wanted to visit, finding the history and richness of the culture so exciting and now that they were here, Remus found that he felt the same way.

Remus' grandmother had paid enough for them to holiday in a comfortable little villa but it was not so luxurious as to completely remove them from the culture itself. It was roughly a one kilometre walk to the beach and as soon as he could, Remus had left his parents to each other and set off with a map, parchment, inkpot and a quill in his hands. When he'd told Lily of his grandmother's death, a woman whom he'd known little of, and of the holiday, she'd implored him to write to her during the summer as often possible...

"You'll visit the museums there, won't you? And the ruins? You must tell me all about them!" Lily's brilliant emerald eyes lit up with excitement and Remus felt her enthusiasm infecting him, beginning with a wide smile.

"Of course. I'll write as often as I can." Remus watched as she paddled her feet in the cooling water of the Black Lake while he sat cross-legged beside her, a book abandoned in his lap. Her face was glazed over with thoughts of distant exotic lands but suddenly she turned back to him, her eyes widened excitedly.

"Oh, and will you watch the sunset for me too? I've always wondered if sunsets look different in other parts of the world – I know it's silly but, you know, it's a childhood thought that I never quite grew out of. I've always wanted to know."

Remus considered her before giving her a smile and nodding. "I'll watch the sunset for you, Lily, and I'll tell you about it, although I'm not terribly great with descriptive writing."

"Go on," she nudged him affectionately with her elbow, "It'll be beautiful, no doubt, and I'll be green with envy when I read it, wishing I could be there to see it."

Remus picked his spot carefully, sitting down on a low brick wall on the edge of the beach, facing the sand and waves. The fresh, tangy smell of salt and sand was in the air and the sound of the waves falling to the sand was rhythmic and soothing. The grains of sand almost seemed to glow in the amber light, the orange of the sun brilliantly blinding as it burnt the sky to soft pinks and red hues. The light gathered in the water and melded itself with the waves that rolled lovingly onto the sand, spreading in foamy reflections of yellow light. Remus wondered if Lily had thought rightly and if sunsets were indeed different in other countries, but perhaps he was just charmed by the warm, exotic atmosphere and the beach simply matched the beauty of the sky, making the setting of the sun almost overwhelming.

Remus propped his back against a sharp rise in the brick wall and raised his knees up as a makeshift table. He unrolled the parchment and set the inkpot beside him, pausing before dipping his quill in to give himself time to think. He knew he should have used muggle paper and a pen in the presence of all the muggles but he preferred parchment and a quill – he found words translated themselves from his mind onto parchment better – and besides, his hands were slightly hidden anyway. His eyes scanned the horizon carefully again, trying to transfer vision into words, wondering how he could communicate to his friend the startling vividness of the different hues and brilliant colours.

He twirled the quill between his fingers as he pondered, before deciding on an opening line and dipping the tip of the quill into the black ink.

Dear Lily,

Perhaps you were right about sunsets being different here – the sky is more brilliant than I've ever seen it and you wouldn't believe how beautiful the beach is. It's as if the sky can't make up its mind to be orange or pink or a whole combination of the colours...

Remus jumped as droplets of water suddenly splattered the parchment. He stared as the ink ran from the words and melted together in an illegible mess.

"Ah, I'm really sorry, it was accident. I did not mean to get you wet."

Remus looked up to see a boy standing quite near. He wore dark red bathing trunks, white and golden sand sticking to his calves and to odd patches of his damp skin. He looked Spanish; his skin was bronzed, his wet hair dark and wavy and his brown eyes look down at Remus in apologetic worry. He looked genuinely sorry and Remus smiled easily to ease the boy's worry, shaking his head. "It's alright. It wasn't turning out very well, anyway – I should thank you actually."

The boy, who looked perhaps a couple of years older than his own seventeen years, returned the smile quickly, looking down at the parchment curiously. "A letter, then? To your, uh, sweetheart, is it?"

Remus chuckled a little awkwardly, keeping his eyes strictly on the parchment before him to stop his eyes from straying. "Err, no, actually, she's just a friend."

The boy regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before sticking out his hand abruptly in greeting. "My name is Ernesto."

Remus looked up and his gaze was met with confident, warm brown eyes. He reached out and shook the hand which was damp with sea water and clinging grains of sand. "I'm Remus."

"You are from England?", Ernesto smiled at Remus' slight surprise, "I have met Englishmen before. I have always liked their voice - uh, accent, I think you call it."

Remus felt his cheeks burn at the probably unintentional compliment, and desperately hoped that the other boy would mistake the slight red tinge for the glow of the sun on his pale, English face. He thought he saw the brown eyes linger on his cheeks for a moment but then the eyes flicked back to meet his again and the bright, white grin was wide.

"Are you liking it here, in Spain?"

"Very much. It's a beautiful place, although I'm sure you know that more than I do."

"Yes, it is beautiful; I am glad you see this." Ernesto nodded, hesitating for a moment as he seemed to think deeply, "You are visiting my wonderful Spain for few weeks and I guess that you stay in nice hotel, maybe?"

Remus wondered where this was going and was trying to remind himself that this was a complete stranger in a country he wasn't at all familiar with, even as he nodded in reply.

"Hotels are nice, yes, but you will never see true Spain by staying in hotel and taking walks by yourself to the beach," Ernesto proclaimed with a conviction that reminded Remus of someone, but he couldn't recall who, "I can show you real Spain, my country, without big hotel and with real people of Spain."

"Err, that sounds... very nice and that's kind of you. But I like it here already and I'm sure you don't want to be spending time with me – I am just a tourist after all." Remus admitted, wondering if the sunlight had suddenly got hotter and more intense or if it was just his body heating up for reasons known only to itself. Again, he had to remind himself that this was practically a stranger and that it was unlikely that this person would suddenly want to show him around just to let him get a real sense of the local culture. But just as Remus was doing so, Ernesto waved away his protests.

"It is no problem. I want to show English who come here my beautiful country. You seem nice, you would understand this – so I show you."

Remus looked out at the horizon beyond the waves. He had expressed the thought to his father that perhaps they wouldn't get to see the real culture of the country if they just followed tour guides with twenty other tourists. He'd wanted to see the real country beyond the aesthetically pleasing cover – he wanted to learn all about these people, their differences and their similarities. And this is what a holiday was about, wasn't it? Taking chances, relaxing, doing things you wouldn't normally do...

His eyes left the fading pink of the sky and returned to the smiling face.

"You really wouldn't mind?"

Ernesto's grin widened pleasantly. "Never. I want you to leave to your country with good memories of real Spain."

Remus bit his bottom lip as he considered it for only a moment more, a grin breaking his face with his decision. "Alright, then. What will you show me?"

The boy's eyes glanced at the sky before he answered. "It is almost night. Better you see everything in morning. Will we meet here, tomorrow morning?"

Remus was slightly relieved as he really didn't want to go running off with someone who he didn't really know when it was getting dark, although he seemed to be very nice. "That sounds good, what time?"

"Do you like eight?"

"Sure. I'll see you here, then."

Ernesto bent down and picked up a white surfboard from where it leaned against the wall, something that Remus hadn't seen. The boy smiled that warm, infectious smile again and stepped over the wall, waving goodbye to Remus.

"Ernesto?"

He turned back, his eyes bright with amusement at what Remus knew to be the clumsy pronunciation of his name. "Thank you for the offer."

"You're very welcome. We will have fun tomorrow!"

Remus watched the retreating figure for a minute before he turned his attention back to the parchment on his lap. Grinning with a curious giddy happiness, and even though the light was fading, he began the letter again.

Dear Lily,

You were right about the sunset. It was more beautiful than I can even describe and I wish you were here to see it with me. Words really can't do it justice but maybe your imagination can. Even better than the sunset though, are the people (the ones I've met, anyway). If all is as it seems, I think I may have already made a new long distance friend...

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Next chapters up soon. Remus' stay in Spain is going to be a couple of chapters more because I really want to capture his self-discovery, so it'll be a while before there's any reciprocated Sirius/Remus. I hope you don't mind the original character while you wait, though. I would love to see any comments – I think I really need people to tell me what they think of this one because the original character and Remus' potential OOCness makes me nervous.

Thank you so much for reading!