Strangeways, Here We Come

Too poor…

"Can I help you, sir?"

The cashier at Flourish and Blotts emphasized the last word in a disdainful tone as he stared at the patches and holes in Remus' robes, no doubt wondering whether a respectful address was necessary.

With a nonchalance built up after years of practice (and prejudice), Remus ignored it. "I'm here to pick up a package," he responded mildly. "Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts – I received an owl this morning telling me it had arrived."

"Yes, it's here," came the reply, and man turned to search behind the counter. He found the set and eyed it skeptically, but appeared mollified after noting the attached receipt that indicated it was already paid for – courtesy of the Noble and Most Ancient bank account of Black. But of course Lupin's name was the one listed, and he tried to hide his surprise that the bedraggled customer could have actually scrounged up such an amount.

Remus accepted the books with a tight smile, then shrunk them, stuffed them in a pocket, and left the store through a crowd of holiday shoppers. He watched with a bit of envy as they perused the goods, considerations of funds and budgets barely crossing their minds. If only he had that luxury…

He tried to push those thoughts away and hurried to leave Diagon Alley, not wanting to be surrounded by countless items he couldn't afford. His task was done, he had only come to pick up Harry's gift – a job Sirius insisted made him entitled to as much of the bestowal as he was.

"You picked it out and picked it up, I paid for it," he had reasoned. "That means it's from both of us – and if you try to act all noble, I'll just sign your name to it anyway."

It was hardly fair, but Remus had stopped arguing in the end – when Sirius had his mind made up there was often no changing it. And it wasn't that he hadn't wanted to give the boy something; it was just that he wished he could have provided it himself. The same went for the others as well: the Weasleys, the rest of the Order… and especially Tonks.

He hadn't even been able to take her out on a proper date yet; and realistically, with all the current legislation in place, he probably never would. With that hanging heavy in his heart the werewolf hurried off, eyes set straight ahead so as not to be distracted by any shiny baubles or colourful items that would be perfect for her.

It wasn't often that the gloom of Number Twelve was preferred over the outside world, but once Remus returned his brooding had been diverted by Padfoot's antics, much merrier now that he had company for Christmas. Just how Sirius had managed to Spellotape his hair to the volumes as he attempted to wrap them Remus would never know… Molly had joined in the chuckles, and he had been glad to see her laughing, especially with poor Arthur still in the hospital.

Had it not been for the slightly paler shade of her face and the tired bags under her eyes, he might not have guessed that greater worries were plaguing her – especially since she was knitting madly, as usual. He realized she was probably making something extra for her husband, and privately predicted that Weasley-made warmth would heal him much faster than whatever Muggle remedies the man tried.

Remus found himself watching the needles move swiftly back and forth, the soft clicking sounds actually becoming quite soothing. Would another jumper soon be taking form? Or maybe a scarf, or an afghan? He found it admirable, her toiling away to make gifts for her family like that – sometimes a labour of love was much more valuable than any old material possession.

And as he thought that, he chuckled ironically to himself. Why couldn't he have taken that attitude earlier, when he had been musing on his financial difficulties? After all, if anybody understood such hardships it was the Weasleys – they had endured multiple points in their lives where they had been forced to pinch their Galleons, and they had still managed to thrive…

He knew he could manage as well. There was never any doubt about him surviving on almost nothing – he had done it before and could do it again, surely. The uncertainty came when adding another person into the equation. What of he and Tonks – could they do the same?

Yet then there came the irrefutable truth: she deserved better. She shouldn't have to struggle to make ends meet, skipping meals and scrimping on the littlest things, not being able to buy gifts for the people she cared about… She deserved better.

Long after Molly and Sirius had left he remained seated, staring into the fire and repeating that mantra to himself over and over again. He was only shaken from his reverie when Tonks stumbled over the threshold, greeting him with a "Wotcher!"

He managed to greet her warmly in return, and she plopped down beside him and sighed. "Bugger, I've had a crap day! The only thing that got me through it was hoping for an early Christmas present tonight."

She shot him a cheeky wink, no doubt expecting a playful rejoinder, but instead Remus' stomach dropped. Merlin, what could he say to that? But before he had a chance to answer, Tonks dragged him up and over to the doorway. She stared at him with those always-sparking eyes, and they trailed up over his weary body and above.

He followed their gaze and landed on the mistletoe Sirius had hung up on his manic holiday decorating spree. "Oh..."

She grinned and leaned in, meeting his lips for a heated kiss – one that only ended minutes later with her pulling away slightly and whispering, "Mmm, you're the best gift ever…"

Wouldn't we all like to find a gift-wrapped Remus waiting under the tree on Christmas morning? Although if that's not possible, I'd settle for some reviews… ;)

Toodles,
- ish -