Title: A Small, Simple Thing
Author: Remus J. Lupin-Black
Rating: PG
Era: Post-Marauder, Pre-Prisoner of Azkaban
Genre: Angst/Drama
Pairing(s): Arthur/Remus, mentions of past Remus/Sirius and Arthur/Molly
Summary: Christmas Eve 1981.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Yes, I know, shitty summary. Don't kill me, please. The bunny refused to leave me alone after I wrote "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love". This is sort of a companion piece to "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love", but you don't need to read that piece in order to get this.
-

It was at ten o'clock that Remus decided he hated the winter holidays nearly as much as he hated Halloween and the second of November. He had been spoiled the last eleven years, hadn't he? Never alone and, if forced to be alone, at least there would be gifts. There would be no gifts this year. James and Lily were dead. Harry had been shipped off, on Dumbledore's orders, to Lily's sister's home for his own safety and his contact with the wizarding world was cut off so Remus could not see him. Not that he wanted to. Or rather, not that he had the courage to face the son of the man and woman that he had in some way, played a part in the murder of. Dumbledore would argue; had argued; that no one had seen it coming, but Remus was closer and he should have seen the signs of betrayal in his loyalist of friends.

He hadn't given up though, he told himself as he stirred his tea lazily, he had petitioned to get Sirius Black a fair trial, but the Ministry had denied it and Dumbledore had done nothing but send Remus a letter filled with apologies of his loss. Something still bothered him, still raged at the fact that there had been no trial, no question, nothing but the articles in the paper. He couldn't even get into Azkaban to speak with Sirius. After all, what idiot would let a werewolf, a known dark creature, in to see the darkest of criminals?

But, the flat was paid out until the end of next year and the vault that Sirius had opened in his name was filled with enough gold to spread carefully and still keep the flat for at least a little while longer. He had gone carefully over the budget. He could stay for another four years before he would no longer have enough money to pay the rent and eat. This wasn't something he was used to, eleven years in a well to do home, seven years in Hogwarts, and then two living with Sirius had made him used to having things at his fingertips.

Remus smiled derisively as his thoughts turned suddenly to his parents and how his pure blood father ruined the Lupin bloodline when he married a muggle. There had been the hope from his grandparents before they died that he would marry a nice pureblood girl. Instead, he and Sirius had, in one fell swoop, put an end to not only the Lupin family line, but the Black line as well. Sirius had taken great pleasure in that. Of course, Sirius had honored his mother and father in the end, had he not?

There was a knock on the door. It was quiet, careful, but with enough force behind it to get one's attention. Standing, Remus abandoned his cold tea at the kitchen table and crossed the small flat, wondering who would be here on Christmas Eve at ten in the evening. Unlatching the door, he pulled it open.

"Oh," Arthur Weasley stood in the hall, covered in a soft sprinkle of snow and wearing a ridiculous knit cap and scarf. Molly's making no doubt. "I wasn't sure you were home. Knocked a couple of times now."

"Sorry about that," Remus said, stepping aside so that Arthur could step out of the hallway and remove his coat and gloves. "It doesn't matter though. Good to see you, Arthur. I wasn't expecting you though, thought you'd be with Molly and the kids."

Arthur shrugged, unwinding the orange and red scarf from around his neck and pulling off the matching cap as well. Remus smiled in amusement as Arthur's red hair stuck up. With a chuckle, he set about fixing the thin strands of red hair with his fingers. Arthur watched him carefully.

"Molly kicked me out. Told me not to come back till morning," he explained. "Bill and George wanted to come with me, but Molly wouldn't have any of it. I figured I would be welcome here."

Remus pulled his hand away slowly, frowning.

"You're all ways welcome here, Arthur," he said simply, taking the scarf and cap from Arthur's hands and setting them on the back of the chair. "You're soaking wet. Did you walk here?"

"Floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron and walked the rest of the way. It was a bit lonely, but I managed it," Arthur replied.

"That's a thirty minute walk," Remus said slowly. "I've got hot water. Take a bath."

"Right," Arthur nodded. "Look, Remus, I wanted…I'm sorry to impose on you so much when Molly and I have a row."

"It's fine," Remus said, holding up a hand. "Besides, I was only wallowing in self-pity. I needed a distraction."

Arthur smiled.

"Course," he shivered. "So, you mentioned a hot bath?"

-

Dressed in a pair of flannel pajamas, too short for his long legs, Arthur was sitting in the middle of the sitting room, deeply absorbed in the inner workings of a small pocket watch that belonged to Remus. It had stopped working when its face had been broken. Remus was staring intently at a book as he sat sidelong in a chair by the fire, his face still flushed from Arthur forcing out of his just how he had broken the watch's face.

The room was quiet except for the occasional turn of a page from Remus, the pop and crackle of the fire, or the quiet sounds of the watch pieces as they were sifted through and removed. An underlying tension seemed to linger in the air despite the comfortable setting and Remus shifted carefully in his chair, gazing momentarily across the room to the empty chair across from him.

With a soft sigh, he looked back at his book and turned another page and stared blankly at it, lost in thought. He had to say something. Had to address the thickness in the air before it consumed them both.

"I wanted to apologize for what happened last time," Remus looked over at Arthur as he spoke. He bent over the watch as it rested on the table, the tiny cogs and pieces scattered across the wood surface.

"It was my fault," Remus said finally, as Arthur looked up and met his eye. "You told Molly, didn't you? That's why you're here."

Arthur was quiet as he dropped his eyes back to the table and pushed a few silver cogs across it. Finally, he looked up again and shook his head.

"No. I couldn't tell her," he answered. "Men don't cheat on their wives."

"Clearly you haven't met too many other men," Remus said simply.

For the briefest of moments, Arthur looked ready to hit him.

"They don't cheat on their wives with other men."

Remus hummed quietly and nodded.

"Well, not all men," he said. "Some I suppose."

"Did Sirius ever…"

"No," Remus answered quietly. "At least…no. I would have smelled it on him."

They were quiet for another minute and then Remus spoke again, "Would it make you feel better about taking the blame if I told you that I was upset and you took advantage."

Arthur ran his fingers nervously through his hair. Remus watched him carefully as he shook his head.

"No. No it wouldn't."

"Good," Remus said. "If you must know, I took advantage of your sympathy. I'm lonely, and I suppose I thought to use you to hurt Sirius. As if it could."

"If you could speak to him," Arthur said gently.

"No, I just don't think he'd have given a damn."

"He loved you. He would have cared if he knew," Remus didn't bother pointing out that all ready he and the rest of the world were talking about Sirius in the past tense. As if he was dead.

"We're getting off topic," Remus said.

Arthur shook his head.

"Maybe you did it to hurt Sirius, but he isn't going to know now. He's in Azkaban for life."

"I am aware of how long the sentence was for, Arthur."

"Sorry."

They were both quiet, gazing intently at each other.

"It only happened once anyways," Remus pointed out carefully.

"It could happen again," Arthur put in.

"I'm lonely."

"So am I," Arthur replied and he looked away from Remus to the pocket watch before him on the table and Remus turned back to his book.

"I miss him," Remus said finally.

"I know," Arthur nodded.

"It won't fix anything."

"I know, but its better than sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves," Arthur said.

Remus nodded, gazing intently at his book, his throat had closed and the words on the pages were blurred.

"You could try to fix things with Molly," he suggested patiently.

Arthur sighed.

"I could," he said. "I could, but I won't. Not yet."

-
Author's Note: -hides under desk- I'm sorry! I don't know why I wrote this!