Cold.. He was cold. It was the bitter, bone-chilling cold of a dry December day. At least, he thought it was December. He wasn't sure anymore.
He stumbled into The Hog's Head, tattered cloak pulled tight around him. He stumbled into a stool at the bar and murmured, "Food, as much as this will buy," dropping a silver and a few bronze coins on the counter. "Or firewhiskey. You know what, no food, just whiskey." The bartender took the money and poured three shots of firewhiskey. It burned his throat as he drank it, but there was solace in the burn. It was relief from the pain he faced living.
His childhood was long gone. Any remnant from it was lost, forever lost. James was dead. Lily was dead. Now Sirius was dead. And Peter was worse than dead, a traitor and a murderer. He had no money, no job, no home. Evicted into to cold last night. He couldn't face twelve, Grimmauld Place. Not yet. He hadn't been there since last June, not for more than ten minutes.
A new drink was slid in front of him. "I didn't order this," he said croakily.
"From the lady." The bartender pointed to a women, a cloak half hiding her face and golden-brown hair. He picked up the glass, and saw written on a napkin, "Meet me in the corner." She walked silently to the corner booth, so he followed her.
"Remus Lupin," she said softly, her voice gentle and warm. "It has been far too long."
"Who are you?" he asked, though something in her eyes seemed familiar.
"You don't remember me? My name is Hope."
A/N: Sorry so short. This is just a teaser, though. More to come, if you review.
