Carry You Over To A New Morning
As he'd promised, Remus returned the file first thing in the morning. The girl, Martha, greeted him, her eyes intensely blue. They decided on a date and time – he was going to pick her up from her flat, which she shared with four friends, and take her out to a restaurant near Diagon Alley – and then they said goodbye. She smiled beautifully at him when he left, guilt weighing heavily in his stomach.
Tuesday came around quicker than he would have liked, at the end of a seventy-two hour shift that had him bleary-eyed, a headache pounding quietly in the corner of his mind. He was never very good on very little sleep. But, he was cheered as he made his way down the stairs of St Mungo's, his white Healer robes tucked neatly into the bag slung over his shoulder, because it was his first day off in a very long time, and he was looking forward to spending it at home.
He nodded to the receptionist, who nodded back, disinterested, as she turned her attention to the patient standing in front of her. He stepped effortlessly through the glass display and was shocked to be swallowed up by the crowd of people, which swelled thickly around him. Then he realised, a bit belatedly, that it was Boxing Day, which would explain the fact that the shops across from the hospital were open, Christmas displays twinkling cheerfully in the cold, winter air.
Remus hunched his shoulders, tucking his neck into the scarf his mother had given him for Christmas, and mindlessly made his way towards his flat, which was only a fifteen minute walk from the hospital. It was located above a flower shop. He had found it being advertised in a newspaper, and he had shared it with Marlene and Alice. The rent had been easy enough to manage between the three of them, but after Alice had gotten married and moved out, it had been a bit harder. Marlene and Remus had each needed to work more hours, which they signed up for in tacit agreement the moment Alice and Frank Longbottom – who was training to be an Auror at the Ministry – announced their engagement.
When Remus arrived home, the flat was quiet, which meant Marlene was out. He hung his bag up on the coat rack Alice had bought and glanced at his reflection in the mirror across it. He looked tired, weary, a slight stubble staining his cheeks. He scrubbed his face as he made his way into the living room, which Marlene had lovingly decorated in shades of bright blue (she'd insisted blue reminded her of Hogwarts, and Alice and Remus had shared a fond smile between them). The flat was arrogantly cold in winter, and when Remus shucked his shoes in front of the sofa, the floor beneath his feet was like ice. Ignoring this, Remus collapsed onto the sofa, his face hitting the comfortable pillows, which sagged under his weight.
He closed his eyes. He wanted a nap really, really badly, but there was still so much work to do. For starters, he had to finish working on the Healing Charm he'd been trying to develop for many painstaking months now. His supervising Healer had told him it was a brilliant idea, but said it would be useless if he couldn't find a way to work it out properly. Remus had bit back a biting retort, and had promised to try and finish it this week.
'Hello!' came Marlene's cheery voice, from far away, and Remus opened his eyes slowly, sleepily.
Marlene's smiling face drifted into view, and he blinked.
'Shit,' he said, sitting up, groggy and alarmed, when he realised he'd fallen asleep. 'What time is it?'
'Five,' Marlene said.
'Morning? Evening?' Remus said, standing up and muttering something very foul when his bare feet came in contact with the cold floor.
'Evening,' she responded, sounding amused. 'Why?'
'I'm supposed to meet Martha for dinner,' Remus said, who had stormed into his room and was in the middle of changing into something more suitable.
'Who?' Marlene asked, following him into his room and sitting down on his bed, her knees tucked beneath her.
'Martha,' said Remus impatiently, grabbing a blue shirt out of his closet and slinging it on, doing up the buttons hastily.
'I've no idea who that is,' Marlene said.
'She works down in Filing,' Remus explained, popping into the bathroom – which was located directly across his room – and splashing his face with cold water. The shock of it against his skin woke him up fully, and he quickly brushed his teeth. Glancing at his reflection, he decided to shave, too; in his haste, he nearly nicked himself on the chin. When he was done, he sprayed on some cologne, which he always kept in the bathroom, and then made his way over to the sofa towards his shoes, wincing every time his feet hit the freezing floor.
Marlene followed him, wordlessly handing him his wallet.
He gave her a grateful smile. 'Cheers.'
'I still don't know who she is, but have fun,' she said, cheerfully, grinning at him.
He gave a small wave, then Disapparated.
Remus Apparated back into the flat around ten, feeling utterly exhausted. Marlene was sitting on the sofa, completely engrossed in a book, and looked up slowly, as if she was having difficulty leaving the pages. She looked tired. All around him, the flat smelled like apple crumble, and he spotted a half-finished piece on a plate that was balancing precariously on her right knee when he flopped down onto the sofa next to her.
'Was it nice?' she asked.
Remus shrugged. 'It was all right.'
Marlene gave him a searching look.
'We went to that new restaurant,' Remus said, eventually, because he knew she'd badger him endlessly if he didn't at least give her some sort of information. 'I had salmon.'
'That's nice, then,' Marlene said, sounding amused.
'Yeah,' said Remus noncommittally. He stood up, stretching lazily, and made his way into the bathroom, undressing as he went.
All in all, his first day off in ages hadn't gone at all like he'd planned: he'd slept through most of it, and it had ended in a date that wasn't really worth repeating. Martha had been only seventeen, full of stories of Hogwarts and her first real job at St Mungo's, and he'd found it hard to concentrate on anything she was saying. After he'd paid, he walked her back to her flat, and she kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for a nice evening. After she'd closed the black-panelled door behind her, Remus had gone into a nearby deserted alley, and Disapparated.
Now, he emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered. His hair dripped onto the wooden floor and his arms were immediately covered in goose-bumps as he stepped out onto the cold floorboards. They'd come to accept the cold, as any Heating Charms cast on the floor faded ridiculously quickly, and weren't worth the effort, in the end. Marlene had fallen back into her book, and took no notice of him crossing the room, kicking the clothes he'd been wearing that night out in front of him.
'Night,' he called, turning once he was in his room.
'Night,' Marlene echoed, absently.
Remus smiled at her, even if she couldn't see, and closed the door behind him.
The day of Alice's New Year's Eve party, Remus woke with a start, the ceiling of his bedroom slowly coming into focus. He couldn't remember what had woken him, the dream fading and blurry, tucking itself away at the edges of his mind. He dressed lazily, his stomach rumbling for breakfast. A glance at his wristwatch, which had been a Christmas gift from Alice and Marlene, told him it was only six o'clock. When he stepped out into the living room, the flat felt warm and cosy, lit up by the Christmas tree Marlene had set up by herself, the fairy lights twinkling and the silver and gold baubles reflecting their light.
Remus made his way into the kitchen, which was tiny, if you really thought about it, consisting of only a few cabinets, a sink, a plastic-y counter top, and a fussy old stove, which hiccupped out gas well-enough, but never the amount you needed. He made some toast, buttering it lazily, and then paid the owl that delivered the Daily Prophet through the miniature kitchen window.
He was still engrossed in the newspaper, reading the Quidditch section, when Marlene appeared in the kitchen, yawning. Her black hair had been tied in what he presumed had been a braid, at some point, but it had come loose in the night, wisps of saggy curls framing her face.
'Morning,' she called, putting the kettle on to boil.
'Morning,' he responded.
'I've the day off today,' she said, conversationally, and he glanced up, catching her eyes over the newspaper. 'I'm going to help Al set up for the party. She's expecting loads of people.'
'How many, you think?'
'Oh, you know,' Marlene said lightly, pouring hot water into a mug for tea and sliding into a seat across from him when she was done. 'Two hundred or so.'
Remus stared. 'Two hundred?'
She grinned at him, obviously joking. 'Maybe even three.'
'Shut up,' said Remus, returning to his newspaper.
'What time will you be there?' she asked.
'My shift finishes at nine, which is when the party starts, so I'll change here quickly and stop by then,' he said, turning the page, and she hummed in response, sipping her tea.
'All right,' she said, and then reached for the book which had been lying underneath the post on the table (Marlene always kept half-read books in the most unlikely of places), burying her nose in it.
They spent the rest of the morning in companionable silence.
When Remus Apparated home at around half twelve, he was in a foul mood. As was almost tradition, the day had been filled with patients who had – drunkenly, mistakenly, or both – set off magical fireworks early, and in the wrong way. Remus had restored eyebrows, set arms, regrown ribs and, in one memorable case, removed a half-exploded piece of firework from the inside of someone's – well. And now he was late, and dirty, and tired. He shucked his Healer robes in the middle of the living room and stormed into the bathroom for a quick shower.
Twenty minutes later, he found himself in the garden of Alice's house, having Apparated directly from the flat. His hair fell into his eyes and he brushed it out of the way impatiently, making his way over to the front door, which stood open invitingly.
'Hello?' he called. He stepped through the door and could just make out a banister painstakingly wrapped with holly, before he was enveloped in a tight hug, the faint scent of daffodils surrounding him. He smiled into Alice's hair, wrapping his arm around her waist.
'Hi Al,' he said, squeezing softly, and she drew back, looking at him with wide, worried eyes.
'Shift ran late,' he said, by means of explanation, 'And then Ruaraidh cornered me, wanting to discuss some of the new spells the Ministry were recommending for our use.'
Alice nodded sympathetically. Ruaraidh Kinnaird was the Head Healer of Remus's department, an elderly, bespectacled man who often engaged people in long, winding conversations about the Ministry's guidelines for St Mungo's. He was getting on a bit, and often didn't remember he was the one who suggested most of the guidelines to the Ministry in the first place.
Remus held up two bottles of wine, and Alice grinned.
'You're a star,' she said, linking her arms with his, and shutting the door behind him. She led him into the formal dining room, which was filled to the brim. Remus guessed there must be at least thirty people there. A far cry from three hundred, but he was relieved. He'd never been the best at parties.
'Found him!' Alice announced to the room, and most occupants turned to look at him curiously. 'Everyone, this is Remus.'
Remus recognised most everyone there, and exchanged polite greetings and nods. Marlene appeared at Alice's side, grinning and carrying a tray of speared, grilled sausages, which she offered up to him. He tucked into one gratefully, Alice leading him around the room to formally introduce him to everyone. The room smelled like food, and a fire was burning cheerily in the fireplace, lighting up the room. The Christmas tree in the corner appeared to have been magically carried over from the living room, if the unexpected smattering of pine needles around the skirt was anything to go by.
'And these are the Potters,' Alice said, leading him to stand in front of a man with messy, greying black hair and a beautiful blonde woman. 'Remus is a first-assistant Healer. He works at St Mungo's with me.'
Remus smiled at the Potters, holding out his hand. 'How do you do,' he said.
'Lupin, nice to see you again,' Fleamont Potter said cheerfully, shaking his hand with vigour. Remus returned the sentiment, and then shook his wife's hand.
'And this is our son, James,' Euphemia Potter offered, stepping aside to reveal James Potter, who had been sitting on the stone edge of the fireplace, and was looking up at Remus in surprise. He pulled himself up to his feet nonetheless, and shook Remus's proffered hand.
'First assistant-Healer Lupin,' he said formally, a far cry from the last time Remus had met him. His eyes twinkled mischievously.
'And my son brought a friend,' Fleamont said, and Remus somehow knew it was going to happen before it did. The man stepped aside, revealing a boy with wide, panicked grey eyes, who was looking up at Remus.
'This is Sirius Black. Perhaps you've met?'