Strangeways, Here We Come

Too old…

As he sat down Remus' joints cracked loudly, and he winced. As if there weren't enough signs of his age, what with his greying hair and lined face and occasional fuddy-duddy ways… Now there was aural evidence to add to already long list.

He glanced down at the glass of liquor in his hand. People always claimed they'd feel better after a drink, but alcohol was a depressant – and accordingly, it always managed to dredge up his rather morose thoughts. Why had he even consented to drinking in the first place?

"Wipe that look off your face, mate!" Sirius called from across the parlour, raising his own glass of Firewhiskey. Ah yes, that was why – his friend had insisted he joined him. By now the other man had drunk just enough to make him cheery, but not quite enough to push him over the edge and into melancholy – yet. "I can recognize a Moony Mope from a mile away – what's the problem this time?"

"No problem," he responded with a sardonic laugh. "Only my age, but there's hardly anything that can be done about that."

"It's a good thing you've got Tonks around, then!" Padfoot called, delving straight into the heart of the matter as usual, albeit unwittingly. "Don't know a better person to make you feel young again."

Remus contemplated that. Yes, being with Tonks was more effective than any De-Aging Potion – but like the potions, the youthful, carefree feelings were temporary. She said she didn't care, and he tried to convince himself that he didn't either, but that hadn't been very effective. "I'm too old for her…"

The Black snorted and took another sip of alcohol. "Oh, bollocks! Loads of men date younger women, it's nothing unusual. Why would you be special?"

"Thanks for the compassion, Padfoot," he replied dryly. "And it's hardly the same thing… I doubt you often see a thirteen year age difference. Good Godric, I'm old enough to be her father!" He put his hand over his eyes while his stomach sank at the thought.

However, Sirius roared boisterously in laugher while sloshing amber liquid all over the floor. "Thirteen-year-old Remus Lupin, studious bookworm, tutoring impressionable young girls in anatomy lessons? That'd be the day!" Perhaps it was a good thing that he found the idea so ludicrous – but it was still technically possible, wasn't it? But before that could be pointed out, the other man poured himself another tot and suggested, "I doubt you'd be so opposed to me dating somebody her age."

"Well, that's hardly the same thing," Remus sputtered, but was quickly interrupted.

"You wouldn't, and you know it! And you'd better believe that if I could get out of this bloody house, I'd damn well try…" he affirmed, tossing himself back on the settee with a scowl. "Now don't start with any of that 'I'm old' rubbish – we're the same age, and Death isn't knocking at our doors just yet!"

"No, just Death Eaters," Lupin retorted as he polished off his own drink. But knowing there was no arguing with his friend when he got like this he then conceded, "Very well – perhaps I'm not actually old, but I'm certainly too old for Tonks."

"Says who?" hollered Sirius, his voice growing louder with every sip he downed. "Is there some sort of magic number? What about nine years, would that be all right? Maybe even ten! But oh no, anything over ten and a quarter would be simply too much…"

"Padfoot –"

"Besides," he continued to ramble, "You should be jolly well pleased with yourself! If it was me and I'd managed to bag a younger bird, I'd be taking her out and soaking up blokes' jealous glares!"

Yes, that was exactly what Sirius would do – but Remus received quite enough glares from other people, and none could remotely be interpreted as jealousy. He sighed, shaking his head. "I'd always thought lowly of men like that, the ones that paraded around showing off their trophy wives and girlfriends…"

At this point Sirius, who had given up using his glass and was drinking Firewhiskey straight from the bottle, choked on it. "Bloody hell, Moony, the point is that you're nothing of the sort! D'you think Tonks would hang off the arm of anybody, let alone some wanker she didn't care about? And she's obviously not with you for your money…"

"Thank you," Remus groaned. "That certainly lifted my spirits." He should have known better than to reveal his worries to Sirius – he may have had more experience with women, but that didn't mean he had learned to be particularly sympathetic.

"Oh, just trust me when I say Tonks doesn't care about any of that," the man declared, getting to his feet and wobbling slightly as he made for the door. Then as he left the room he threw over his shoulder, "You worry too much, mate – age only matters when you're a wine! Hmm, I wonder if we have any wine left…"

Like a fine wine, Remus would only get better with age, no? ;) But hopefully it won't take an age for you to review! Oi, that was lame… But still, please do drop me a few words!

Toodles,
- ish -