Lyall Lupin sprang off the couch as though the seat had ejected him, walking towards his only son with open arms and a wide smile that lit up the tiny room.
Remus met him half way and slammed into the other man's chest with enough force to take down a tree, but his father took it in stride and hugged him warmly.
"What are you doing here?" The boy asked emphatically; after a full year of solitude, he was as starved for physical affection as he was for food. Perhaps his father sensed it, and held him within his loving embrace for a moment longer.
It nearly made Remus feel human again.
"What? Your old man can't drop in for a visit?" Lyall asked facetiously, pulling away and taking the smell of sandalwood and fresh mint with him.
"No, of course you can. I just thought you'd send an owl or something. Give me some time to…" Remus looked around the room. The walls were splintered, the floors were chipping and the roof had giant holes bandaged over with plastic bags and permanent sticking charms. There was barely any furniture or carpet to clean, and no dishes since he had nothing to eat. "Well...to prepare," he finished lamely.
Lyall followed his son's gaze and took in the pathetic squalor of the semi-derelict building; his warm smile had vanished and he gave his son a pointed glare.
And here we go.
"Remus, you know you're more than welcome to come stay with me. I've told you a thousand times. There are two extra rooms and-"
Remus cut his father's offer short with an annoyed huff. "Look - I know this place isn't much, but it's home," he stated simply, shrugging his shoulders.
It was true, the house was a dilapidated shit hole. But it was his shit hole. Besides, there was no chance he would move in with his father and ruin the peaceful existence he'd waited years to enjoy.
He looked healthier than ever; the perpetual worry and stress of raising a lycanthrope a mere memory on his wrinkled face. It was a shame mother hadn't lived long enough to enjoy the same tranquil lifestyle with her husband.
"Fine, then at least let me loan you some money. Just until you get on your feet, then you can -"
Remus cut him off again, this time with a sharp laugh that came out like a bark. "I'm a thirty year old werewolf. This,"— he gestured around at his impoverished lifestyle—"is as on my feet as I'm ever going to get."
There was a short silence filled by the faint sound of wind whistling through the cracks in the walls. Lyall was chewing the inside of his cheek, a telltale sign of his effort to reign in his temper.
"You're only twenty-six, quit ageing yourself." He finally said curtly. Remus stopped himself short of an eye roll, knowing how much the other man detested the action.
Suddenly his father's figure slumped and he sighed tremendously, the soft warmth in his hazel eyes returning. "All your mum and I ever wanted was to see you happy. Especially after everything I —after everything you've been through."
The boy felt the irritation melt away as he stared at his father. The tall, once proud figure of a renowned expert was now a broken man standing in his living room, shoulders hunched under the weight of a thousand unspoken burdens.
Remus knew that deep down, his dad still blamed himself for what had happened those many moons ago.
With Voldemort's rise to power, Death Eaters had started recruiting all manner of Dark Creatures in their quest to overthrow the Ministry, who in turn had armed themselves with the top minds on said beasts.
This included Boggarts, Ghouls and Poltergeists- of which Lyall was the utmost authority. Upon joining the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, the man had come face to face with the most savage Werewolf in recent history - Fenrir Greyback - who had been brought in for questioning regarding the deaths of two Muggle children. Greyback had convinced the overworked and underpaid members of the interrogation committee that he was simply a homeless Muggle, but Lyall had not been so easily fooled. After trying and failing to convince the other members to detain the tramp until the next full moon, Lyall became enraged and spoke the words he would come to regret for the rest of his life.
Had he not provoked Greyback, the Werewolf would've had no business bothering the Lupins. But as fate had it, Fenrir forced his way into Remus' bedroom window and attacked the innocent toddler, hoping to exact his revenge by taking the life of Lyall's only child. Luckily, the wizard managed to drive the beast away with a series of powerful curses - but the damage had been done.
Remus Lupin had become a fully fledged Werewolf just before his fifth birthday.
The realization and crushing guilt which followed afterward had nearly consumed his father. But despite his own inner demons, he'd given up everything to keep his family safe and spent every minute showering Remus with unconditional love and affection.
The young man felt terrible for snapping at the other and ran a hand through his sandy hair to steady his nerves.
"Just remember, I'm always here to help. It's the least I can do." Lyall offered, a potent look of sadness momentarily painting his features.
His son sighed, smiling apologetically. "I know dad. But I do okay, I promise."
Lupin Sr. gave the boy a stern glare but decided not to press the matter, instead leaning forward to clap him softly on the cheek before making his way back to the sofa. He plopped down with an exaggerated huff, lifted both feet off the ground and sat straight up again, wide smile once more in place.
"So, tell me. How's this new job been treating you? Any pretty girls?"
Remus stared blankly at his father, frantically trying to remember if he had told him about Tinsley's.
"H-how did you know?"
"About the job or the girls?"
Both.
"The job."
Lyall gave a crooked smile and tapped the side of his nose. "I've got spies everywhere."
Unable to stop himself this time, Remus rolled his green eyes skyward.
"To tell you the truth, the reason I came here today…" His father's tone was abruptly serious and he fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, playing with the end of his sleeve. "A lovely witch named Miriam came to visit me this afternoon."
The young wizard was trying desperately not to jump to any conclusions, but it was not working.
Was he starting to date other women? Was he here for some kind of blessing?
"Works in the department of Accidental Magic…" Lyall gave him a sidelong glance, trying not to look insinuating while still pausing long enough to let his son interject.
Remus' heart sank.
So the Ministry had caught wind of his little incident.
He reached for his face and pinched the bridge of his long, straight nose in an effort to subdue the oncoming headache.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
The boy frowned deeply, not sure if he even knew what to talk about. But he took a deep breath and kept his eyes closed as he spoke.
"I don't really know what happened. One minute I was fine, just shaking her hand and-"
"Her?" Lyall asked, trying much too hard to keep his tone neutral.
"A co-worker. Far too pretty for me, before you ask again."
The other man's loud scoff was ignored, as was the sudden flutter of butterflies in his gut at the thought of Neoma.
"It was like I'd been hit by lightning." Remus recalled the sensation and felt a shiver travel down the length of his spine. "But the minute I closed my hand around hers...I just lost control."
Lupin Sr. stared at his son for a few seconds in complete silence, his expression unreadable.
"So I take it you've decided not to go back."
It was a statement, not a question.
The young man smiled ruefully at his dad.
"Am I that predictable?"
"Remus…" the older man started, getting to his feet again. "You are kind, and clever and wonderful"—He closed the gap between them in four strides, placing a hand behind his son's back and steering him towards the deep blue, moth eaten sofa, forcing him to sit—"but you're also too considerate for your own good. And I know you think you're some kind of monster"—the boy flinched at the word—"but you're not. Not even close."
Remus sat in contemplative silence, staring at the chipped floor while his father bent over him sympathetically. He spent so much time thinking he was a monster, that it nearly felt wrong to hear someone try and tell him otherwise.
Lyall sighed in defeat as though reading the young man's self deprecating thoughts and ruffled his son's hair before straightening up.
He walked over to a black duffle bag sitting at the foot of the extinguished fireplace and dug in, the sound of rustling plastic filling the air before the clinking of glass joined the medley.
Lyall extracted two gleaming bottles; the stout obsidian vessel of 'Ogden's Olde Firewhisky' and a massive, narrow necked flagon of bright orange Iron Bru - Hope Lupin's weekend indulgence for Remus.
The boy grinned from ear to ear, the sudden wave of nostalgia nearly making his eyes brim with tears. He could barely remember the taste of the sugary beverage, only that it reminded him of a safe place, nestled between his parents with a full belly and a comfy blanket. He eagerly reached for it, but his father smirked and pulled back the bottle.
"Ah! Not until after you've had your supper, young man!"
"Er...All I've got is half eaten apple pie."
Lyall shook his head disapprovingly before setting both bottles down on the floor with a faint thud. He returned to the duffle bag and this time produced a sagging plastic sac.
The smell of raw meat hit Remus like a truck and he nearly howled on the spot.
"Good thing I brought us dinner then," he remarked, brandishing the bag towards his son who was trying desperately not to snatch it from his father and eat the entire package in one bite. "We still have to cook it, mind you. Well… I have to cook mine."
Lyall reached in and dug out two, juicy, oozing, crimson steaks - thankfully too preoccupied with a rip in the plastic to notice the inhuman spasm in his son's neck at the sight of raw meat.
~~~~~O~~~~~
The delicious, warm aroma of a cooked meal wafted throughout Lupin's cottage like a welcome stranger, clinging to the musty drapes as a reminder of how a home ought to smell.
Both Lupin men had finished their steaks, and now sat wordlessly sipping on their beverage of choice in front of a roaring hearth.
Remus had never felt better. Not only was he full, he was stuffed - and it was positively glorious. The young wizard ran his tongue over his teeth, the faint coppery aftertaste of the bloody steak filling his mouth again before he settled on trying to suck out a piece of meat that had lodged between his molars.
"Now if only I'd remembered dessert," his father tutted, disheartened by the lack of after dinner sweets.
Suddenly remembering the half eaten pie, Remus was about to lean back and grab it when he hesitated. Did he really want to give up the last few slices of her gift?
Oh please- you barely knew the woman! And your father just gave you your biggest meal in over two years.
Frowning at his momentary stint of selfishness, the man leaned over and pulled at the silver tin which sat, just within arms reach, on the only table in the room. His long fingers fumbled with the container before he snatched it, brandishing the dessert at his father in triumph.
Lyall's face erupted into a huge grin. "Hey!" He cheered, clapping his hands in jubilation.
The boy smirked at the other man's enthusiasm- it was clear whom he'd gotten his sweet tooth from.
Passing the tin over, Remus watched as his father carefully plucked a large slice from the container and bit into it, his hazel eyes widening with the first few chews as he re-examined the dessert in his hands.
"This is amazing! Where did you get it?"
"Work - a 'welcome to the team' gift." The younger of the two explained before he retrieved the silver plate and helped himself to the second last slice. His heart momentarily dropped at the thought of nearly finishing the entire pastry in one night, but one bite into the buttery, flaky crust and he could focus on nothing except the delicious, sweet harmony of apples, cinnamon and nutmeg which danced upon his taste buds.
The weary werewolf was so distracted by the foreign feeling of satiety that he didn't notice the silence which filled the air as his father studied him carefully.
"I don't think you should run away from this job."
Remus was slightly taken aback by his father's interjection and took the opportunity of having a mouthful of pie to try and think of a worthy excuse.
Lyall's feathery brow was cocked, his broad shoulders were tense and his mouth was set in a thin, hard line; he was ready to argue.
Finally swallowing, his son opened his mouth, set to satisfy the other with a fantastic explanation.
"I-i...I just have to."
"Bollocks. You're choosing to run away because you don't want to deal with your problems," The man simply declared, staring at the boy with obvious disappointment.
Remus grit his teeth, the truth of the statement stinging him like a wasp.
"You don't understand. With what happened today...I could have hurt someone." The young wizard meant Neoma in particular, but his father didn't need to know that embarrassing detail.
"Who? This girl you've shaken hands with once?" Lyall challenged, the biting sarcasm in his words making his son's ears glow red.
"Yes and no…I don't know if I can trust myself around her. What if-"
"You are a good man, Remus,"—each word was slow and drawn out—"One of the best I've ever known!" Lyall exclaimed, smacking his knees in earnest declaration. "You just need to give yourself more credit."
"But what if I hurt someone?"
His father let out an exasperated sigh. "Out of all the years you'd known James, Pete and Sirius when did you ever hurt them? Accidental or otherwise?"
At the mention of his old friends, the boy visibly recoiled as though Lyall had smacked him in the face with their names.
A floodgate somewhere within Remus threatened to burst, but Lyall - realizing his error - instantly picked up the conversation once more.
"Just promise me you'll give it another go."
His son ran a hand through his hair and nodded curtly.
"I'll think about it."
"Atta lad! Now I can give you this," his father reached into the pocket of his tweed cardigan and pulled out a plain, white business card.
Curiously reaching to take the item, the werewolf turned it over in his hands as he read the drab lettering in the centre of the paper.
Miriam Matthews
Secretary to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes
Third Floor
Whitehall, London
Remus looked up at his father quizzically, wordlessly coaxing an explanation.
"That young witch I was talking about earlier, she told me to give you her card -said you could use her name the next time you apply for a position at the Ministry."
The younger Lupin blinked stupidly for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "Dad, that's brilliant- but then why do you want me to give Tinsley's another go?"
"Tinsley's?"
"The grocer's,"
"Good God, that's a terrible name for a store."
Remus smirked as he reached for a swig of Iron Bru. "Tinsley's Tally, actually."
"Sounds like a pet name for his cock," Lyall said with a look of distaste.
The young wizard nearly choked on his drink, fighting to keep the carbonated beverage travelling down the right pipe.
"That's disgusting and also besides the point- you don't think I'll have a chance at the Ministry?" Remus asked, a small part of him already knowing the answer.
Lyall took a deep breath before reaching for a sip of Firewhisky. "To be honest? No."
There was a short silence, interrupted only by the sound of the cracking fire.
"Because of my condition." Remus offered flatly, feeling his last ounce of hope wither away at the confirmation.
"Because people are cruel and ignorant," His father corrected sternly, taking a long draught from the gleaming, black bottle. There was a slight shade of red creeping up the man's neck as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "We tried so damn hard to keep you off the Registry, to keep things quiet,"—his was voice steadily increasing in volume—"but somehow enough of those bastards at Whitehall know about what I did. About what happened..." Lyall's voice faltered and he made another move to down more whisky but was stopped short by his son.
"Er...I think that's enough of Ogden's Olde for you tonight," Remus declared, firmly plying the drink from the other man's hands and setting it down on the floor.
By the time he looked back up, his father's eyes were suddenly brimming with tears, a look of complete anguish painting his features as he wordlessly gaped at his son. "I-I'm so sorry, Remus," he choked, ducking his head in shame.
The young man sighed internally before reaching over to rub his dad's shoulder soothingly; it wasn't the first time this had happened. "You have nothing to be sorry about."
"I ruined my little boy's life," Lyall stated limply, staring into the darkness beyond the warm light of the fire as his tears finally broke free and streamed down his stubbly cheeks.
"You did no such thing and we both know it," Remus snapped, abruptly exhausted. Everytime they drank together, his father would break down in tears and spend hours torturing himself for things that could not be undone. The first few episodes had resulted in both men weeping like old women on each other's shoulders, but now? It was just annoying.
Lupin Sr. buried his face in his hands and rubbed away his tears, emerging with bright red cheeks and watery eyes. He cleared his throat and sniffled as both men sat in silence, staring at the long, flickering shadows cast about the walls like looming spirits.
"Come on, let's get you to bed," Remus finally announced, getting ready to help his father up. But the other man shook his head.
"I've got a few spare rooms, dad. I can afford to give one up for the night." None of the rooms had a lick of furniture, but he didn't need to know that when a table could easily be transfigured into a bed.
"No, I should get back. Got work in the morning," Lyall sniffled again, bracing his hands on his knees as he stood up, instantly making for the door without a single look behind him.
"I'll see you there - going to drop off another application," the younger Lupin called, waving the white card of Miriam Matthews in the air.
His father stopped suddenly, his hand on the doorknob. "You're still going to try at the Ministry?"
"Of course, I've got nothing to lose and ...I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a backup in case I get sacked from Tinsley's," he decided, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
Lyall looked back at his son, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Atta lad," he whispered before reaching over with open arms to give his only child a warm hug goodbye.
~~~~~O~~~~~
Remus stood by the window, thankful for the cloudy night which blotted the waxing gibbous from his view as he twirled the business card in his hand for what was probably the fiftieth time. Poking his finger with one of the sharp corners, he thought of returning to Tinsley's.
In part, he had only made it seem as though he was going back to cheer up his father, but Lyall had a point.
Perhaps he was overreacting.
He wouldn't endanger anyone if he just kept his distance.
And yes, becoming infatuated with Neoma was a very real possibility, but that didn't mean she would reciprocate his feelings even remotely. If anything, he was giving himself far too much credit in even assuming that she'd ever look at him again.
Maybe he would go back for the time being; put food on the table for a few weeks while he tried again with the Ministry.
Lupin sighed and pocketed Matthew's card, finally having come to a decision, but didn't move from the window. His elbow was numb from leaning against the unforgiving sill as he stared up at the yellowish blotch which marred the inky sky.
There was still something gnawing at the man, something his father had mentioned which had left a painful ache in his heart.
He did run away from his problems. Or he hid them away...
Turning from the cold glass, the young wizard yanked his coat up from the floor where it had been discarded earlier and pulled out his wand before dropping the jacket again carelessly.
Remus walked slowly towards the mantle, the once roaring fire had died down to nothing more than a few glowing embers, sputtering in brilliant flashes of red as he stopped to glare at a seemingly ordinary, purple vase.
It was plain and bereft of flowers, dust had collected on its smooth surface and there was a dead wood beetle laying by its side.
Lupin blew the insect away and coughed at the cloud of dust which billowed about, making a mental note to scourgify the house later.
He raised his wand and pointed it at the only item above the hearth.
"Revelio."
Instantly the vase vanished and in its place appeared a beautiful, jewel encrusted glory box with purple leaves painted around the lid. Black scorch marks tarnished the otherwise pristine facade where in the dying light he could make out the name Lily Evans.
The young man recalled visiting the wreck of Godric's Hollow just days after it had happened. The cozy, loving home had been razed to the ground and the sight of it, along with its distinct lack of inhabitants, had nearly destroyed Remus.
He'd found the glory box sitting innocently among the black, sooty rubble like a gleaming beacon of hope and clung onto it like a lifeline. Inside had been a bundle of birthday cards, a pair of blue earrings and the tiny plastic bracelet which had come home around the wrist of their infant son.
Lupin spent hours searching through the debris for everything and anything else that could be salvaged- anything that would maintain the memory of the happy little family who had once lived there.
By nightfall he'd curated over twenty pictures, a muslin baby blanket, a blue binky and a pair of lion head cufflinks - the same ones James had worn on his wedding day.
He remembered staring at contents of the box for hours, trying to make sense of his world which had come crashing down when he'd received the news just that morning.
But none of it did make sense and Lupin buried his despair, along with the agonizing memories of his friends until he could scarcely bear to hear their names.
But now, five years later, it was time to grieve.
It was time to heal.
The young wizard's heart was hammering painfully against his ribs, half in protest and half in yearning at what he was about to do.
He reached forward tentatively, as though the box were an open flame he might burn himself upon, and gingerly flipped it open.
The forgotten keepsakes laid in a jumbled mess - untouched since the moment they'd been stored. Old photos sat in the centre of the pile, the subjects smiling and waving happily at the man who dared to retrieve them with trembling fingers.
Lily Evans, her beautiful red hair shining like dragon fire, blew a kiss at the camera while she jiggled on her hip a chubby infant with unruly black hair.
James' hair.
A thick knot formed in Lupin's throat at the thought of him, suddenly wishing he could be there for the child of his dearest friends.
Quickly wiping the moisture from his eyes, Remus tucked the picture back into the glory box and stared at the new set of faces which peered up at him, waving from inside a shoddy canoe - all beautiful, happy and frozen in time.
There was James, his ever present black spectacles glinting in the light of the mid morning sun as he stood up at the helm and gave a captain's salute. Then there was Peter, whose mousy brown hair was slicked back into an atrocious ponytail. He was sitting and smiling sweetly next to a young Werewolf who had far fewer worries and a much brighter smile as he waved up the older version of himself.
And then Remus' eyes lingered on the last of the quartet - his handsome grin and blinding personality nearly coming through the photo as he picked up a wooden paddle and smacked James' backside with it.
Sirius.
The one who had betrayed them all.
Abruptly feeling nauseous, Lupin was about to toss the remaining photos back into the chest, but somehow stopped himself.
Instead he took a deep breath and moved to the couch, wordlessly reigniting the hearth as he grabbed the half empty bottle of Firewhisky.
He sat down with the pictures and took a long drink of the smooth, burning liquid, preparing himself to go through each and every photo - to relive each and every memory.
It was time to heal.