Long awaited drama. I wanna hear your thoughts!

From the playlist:

? - dodie

Run Away to Mars - TALK

are you okay? - Winnetka Bowling League

Forever - Lewis Capaldi

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Ch. 4. - The Surprise

The sound drew Remus's attention to the witch that had been holding the teacup…

…and his stomach plummeted into his shoes.

"Forgive me, Professor Dumbledore," she muttered, swishing her wand over the shards to put the cup back together. Setting it on the side table nearest her proved difficult with her hands trembling.

"Are you quite alright?" Fudge bumbled.

"Would you all excuse me?" She didn't wait for anyone's permission before snatching up her briefcase and rushing out of the office, speeding right past Remus on her way down the stairs.

… Oh dear God.

What came over him then was a bit like the way he felt just before a nasty fever took hold, but accelerated by about tenfold: the body heat drained from all his extremities, his forehead became tacky with sweat, and all his muscles turned suddenly wobbly and gelatinous like they'd been replaced with cold custard.

He twisted around, but she was gone.

Fudge humphed disapprovingly. "I suppose we'll just have to get started without her. Time is of the essence, Dumbledore."

"It would appear that I have double-booked myself," Dumbledore said innocuously, turning to Remus. "Might we postpone our tea? I seem to have a meeting with The Ministry."

"YescertainlythankyouSir," Remus word-vomited before jetting out of the office.

Dumbledore smirked to himself as he watched him go.

By the time Remus reached the bottom of the stairs, she'd already sped halfway across the corridor.

"Wait," he called, wincing as he broke into a jog.

Pretending as though she hadn't heard him, she continued to retreat.

"Emmeline, stop. Please."

She teetered to a halt, but kept her back to him. Remus allotted her a fair amount of distance, staring wide-eyed as he wondered if she could hear how mercilessly his heart was thudding against his ribcage from where she stood.

Several seconds passed before either of them moved a muscle. Then, ever so slowly, she turned to face him.

Merlin have mercy.

She had grown up so lovely, Remus thought. At first, it was nice to see her all grown up. He'd imagined it loads of times, but beholding her now was a different story. Statuesque and striking, she wore that same emerald green shawl over sleek Ministry attire, and had on some very elegant makeup - that did absolutely nothing to attenuate the apparent rage painted all over her face. Even the lovely brown-ish red lipstick, while flattering to her full and usually distracting lips, could not distract from how her jaw was clenching so tightly, the muscles along the bone were protruding. Her hair had been blow-dried to smoothness and swept back out of her eyes, but now that he could see her in the light, he noticed the slight streaks of gray amid the chestnut. This was of no consolation or comfort, and it didn't diminish her - to him, it only made her look like she was gilded with silver.

Except for her hair and the fact that her figure had filled out a bit, in many regards, she appeared much the same as she did all those years ago; but she looked more…searing. Not warm. Not sunny. Searing. As if she could burn you for getting too close.

Then, when Remus's initial shock had subsided, the ache arose. It was always there in the background, but for the first time in many years, it forced itself to the surface in the worst possible way. After a rude awakening back to his senses, he wondered what had compelled him to chase after her; because now, he was subjected to her gaze again. He remembered his shoes.

"...Merlin, Morgana, and Mungo," Emmeline muttered, letting the briefcase drop from her grasp as she leaned up against a window sill.

Remus dared to get a bit closer. "Are you alright?"

Amid her shallow breaths, Emmeline shot him a look of utter bewilderment.

"Am I-... Am-...No, as a matter of fact , I'm NOT! "

"You're right, it was a foolish question-"

"What the hell do you expect me to say to that?"

"I'm sorry, If I'd known you were going to be here, I wouldn't have come."

"What are you doing here?" she asked like she was conducting an interrogation.

"Well, I've-…I've just accepted a teaching position…"

"...Right, yes." Recalling what Dumbledore said moments ago, she swallowed a few times to return the moisture to her mouth, then congratulated him with shocking sincerity. "That's...that's fantastic, Remus."

Hearing her voice curl around his name like that made something inside of him shudder. "Why are you here?"

"...Ministry business."

"Right, of course…"

"I didn't need this today," she mumbled to herself, rubbing the space above her eyebrows with her middle finger and thumb. "Today of all days…"

Remus pretended he hadn't heard.

There was a cumbersome pause as both parties tried to conjure up the next thing to say. Remus was focusing very hard on his tattered shoes, praying she hadn't noticed them. But he thought if the silence went on for much longer, she might end up following his gaze - if she hadn't already - so he cleared his throat and tried to proceed.

"...How've you been?"

"...Small talk? Really?" Emmeline griped, bracing her hands on her knees.

"I'm sorry, I just-...I hope you're well. I wonder, you know..." Damn it. That last bit had just sort of slipped out…

Emmeline narrowed her eyes. "...Well, you could've asked me. An owl or-... something."

"I didn't think you wanted me disrupting your life-"

"Oh for God's sake," she huffed, taking a couple of steps away from the window. "Spare me the saintly bullshit Remus, alright? It hasn't become any less exasperating."

He supposed that he deserved the acid in her tone.

"...Emmeline, you must know that I feel…badly…for how things had to be-"

"Okay- Do you know what?" Her lips twisted into a scorching scowl. "You've managed to rear your head on the worst day possible, and I'm supposed to be in a meeting right now, so forgive me if I'm a bit prickly-"

"I didn't mean to-"

"No- stop it," she snapped. "You had your chance in the letter. Now it's my turn to talk."

Remus readied himself for the imminent verbal lashing as she adjusted her stance.

"I don't want to hear any more small talk out of your mouth. Not one more word of it, do you understand? I don't want to hear that you 'wonder how I am,' or hear that you would've felt like an imposition if you'd written, and I especially don't want to hear about how 'badly' you feel," she spat. "I've completely lost my appetite for your martyrdom act. You do not get to stand there and-...Remus Lupin, you look at me when I'm talking to you."

His eyes had drifted to his shoes again, but came swiftly back up when she reprimanded him. "...Obviously, this is very uncomfortable for me," he offered meekly.

"Yeah? How the fuck do you think I feel?!"

Flinching like McGonagall might come around the corner again and give them both detention for profanity in the hallway, he stopped himself short of shushing her.

"Is the sight of me that repulsive to you-?"

"Of course not."

"-Because if you can stomach it, I think I'm at least owed a bit of eye contact, since you didn't lead with an apology."

Remus was scrambling for the right thing to say. There didn't seem to be a right thing to say.

"...I thought my letter was fairly straightforward."

"That letter was not a proper apology," she smoldered, taking one hostile stride towards him. "It was your clever way out of giving me any say in the matter."

"Yes, as if you've never done that before," he retorted in his agitation, then scrunched his face in immediate regret.

Emmeline released a laugh that made her sound mad, nearly pulling her hair out. "For the love of Merlin, will you ever let that go?! Just under ten months can hardly be compared to just over ten years!"

"Okay, alright, you're right-"

"You're such a hypocrite-!"

"Look, I'm well aware, but could we perhaps not-"

"If you're going to pretend that you can still hold that against me-!"

"Please- Emmeline- this is neither the time nor the place for us to be shouting at each other," he hissed, shoving his hand out towards her. Regardless of the absence of students, something about the school being his place of employment now made him feel more frazzled than he would've if this were happening, say, in the middle of the street. "If you'd like to discuss this, we'll have to do so elsewhere. Like adults."

Emmeline cocked her head menacingly, and again, Remus regretted his choice of words. He swallowed, retracting his hand.

"Come again?"

"...I didn't-…What I meant to say-"

"I refuse to let you make me feel as though my reaction to this is ridiculous. You can save the lecture for your students."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

Surely she would turn and walk away - Remus could see that she was considering it. But she didn't. She just stood her ground, staring him down. Then, gradually with each breath, her fury seemed to melt.

"...I wasn't sure you were still alive…" she exhaled like she'd already mourned for him.

"...I can take a running jump out that window if you'd like to be absolutely certain."

Before Emmeline could stop it, the smallest hint of a chuckle bubbled up out of her, and the corner of Remus's mouth turned up ever so slightly.

Her smile faded as she drew what was perhaps the first full breath she'd been able to manage since she laid eyes on him.

"...It's good to see you," she admitted softly.

"...It's good to see you, too. You look..." Gorgeous. "...well."

"...You look-"

"I know." Horrendous.

She motioned to the spot above her ear. "If you'd've let me finish, I was only going to say I think the grays suit you."

"...Oh." He pawed self-consciously at the side of his head where his own hair had begun to sprout silver. At least she hasn't said anything about the shoes.

Even still, she was studying him a bit too closely for his liking. He wondered if she could still read his mind like its contents were splayed on pages for her to thumb through. Did he have misfortune and solitude written on his face in ink? She was looking at him in a way that made him wonder, because despite her fury, her eyes just… held him. Her stare made him want to wriggle out of an embrace he couldn't actually feel.

"...Are you okay?" she murmured.

At the tone of her voice, Remus's posture collapsed a bit. She's definitely noticed the shoes.

He tried to appear a bit less forlorn. "…I'm fine."

It could have been a trick of the light, but he thought he might've seen her lip quiver. If it had, it swiftly returned to normal.

"...What now?" she asked.

"...Haven't the slightest."

Logically, Remus knew it would be best if they both went on pretending this encounter never happened. But come the fall, Emmeline would know where to find him, and he had a feeling that she would not abide by their previous game of extreme hide and seek.

"...If I write to you, will you answer?"

Remus shuffled his feet. "...Yes."

But she was eyeing him doubtfully, and rightfully so.

"I'll answer if you write to me," he repeated sincerely.

She still looked skeptical as she turned from him and started back towards her briefcase. Kneeling down, she unlatched it and retrieved something from its main compartment.

Is her wand in there? Has she decided to hex me?

Once she found what she'd been searching for, Emmeline shut the case again and approached him. Remus was not proud of the fact that he flinched a bit as she held out whatever she'd grabbed.

A business card.

His fingers stuttered as he accepted it from her grasp.

After the exchange, Emmeline motioned dispiritedly toward the spiral staircase. "I should get back."

"Right," Remus agreed, stepping out of her path as she passed. Despite himself, he continued to gaze after her as she walked away, and felt as though the daylight was shifting around him.

Just before she reached the stairs, Emmeline glanced back at him with her brow furrowed somewhere between perplexed and vexed. "…Do you suppose Dumbledore gave himself a scheduling conflict on purpose?"

Remus heaved a nettled sigh through his nostrils. "Now that you mention it, I'm almost certain this was his doing."

"Typical," she muttered under her breath as she stared up the steps, leaving Remus gawking in the corridor.

The universe - and Albus Dumbledore - had a tremendously hilarious sense of humor.

…

When Remus Floo'ed home, he made a B-line for the celebratory six-pack of Guinness he'd splurged on; only it wasn't going to be drunk in celebration at all. Not anymore. Dispensing one into a glass, he proceeded to sit on the floor up against the refrigerator door to sip it - far less cheerful than he thought he was going to be when he'd made the purchase.

Today was supposed to be a good day. He was looking forward to the fresh start. He was embarking on a proper career. He'd seen the common room for God's sake! He thought he'd be able to ride that high for the rest of the summer. He hadn't been excited about anything in so long.

There were only about three and a half things that could've put a damper on his day, and whatever had just happened might've been at the top of the list.

He wished he'd just sucked it up, taken cold showers, and bought new shoes. It was summer, he could've managed. She'd definitely noticed the shoes…At least, toward the end there, she'd spoken to him like she'd noticed the shoes. Who am I kidding? She notices everything.

And she looked lovely. So lovely…Like she'd lived well without him.

… Was she going home to someone?

Of course she was. And even if she wasn't, it wouldn't matter.

But without a doubt, she was.

If he'd been able to see the future, he would've spent a bit more money and purchased something stronger than beer. He could drink the lot of the stouts, and they wouldn't do a thing to soothe him; he'd metabolize their measly alcohol content too quickly. Merlin, he craved a cigarette. The surprise encounter had set his entire body on edge. Ever since the teacup, he'd been at the precursor to trembling and had yet to re-regulate. He still felt pulpy.

And that Ministry business card. She'd complained about small talk, then gone and handed him a business card? The mere offer of a business card from Emmeline Vance was bordering on insulting. He hadn't forgotten her name.

He really wasn't sure what he was hoping for out of that encounter, but it wasn't that. Perhaps he hoped she would've seen him and smiled, saying something to the effect of: "We had some good times;" which was a foolish notion. Emmeline had a lot of grace to offer, but not that much. Really, he hadn't wished for that encounter to ever occur at all, enchanting as it was to look at her.

He suddenly became aware of just how sweaty he'd gotten. Gulping the remainder of the beer down, he shucked off his jacket, yanked off the tie, and peeled off the button up until he was down to his undershirt. It didn't seem to help.

As he was carefully extracting his feet from the stupid shoes so as not to damage them further, he remembered: she said she was going to write. Which meant he and Emmeline were going to be communicating again.

Merlin.

Godric.

Bollocks.

And now, he had to write her back, because he said he would. What the hell was he supposed to say that he hadn't already said? Did she want him to grovel? To what end? Just to spite him? He didn't have an enormous sense of pride, but he had to maintain some sliver of dignity to function. He had nothing else.

Maybe she wanted to reduce him to nothing. He wouldn't put it past her. He'd seen how vindictive she could be. "Hell hath no fury" and such.

Whatever she wanted from him, the prospect of reading what she might have to say after nearly eleven and a half years of silence was only marginally less frightening than it had been to look at her today.

Just as he was about to remove the cap from a second Guinness, an envelope swooshed through the letter box onto the floor.

Well that was quick.

He pushed himself up and approached with caution as if he expected it to detonate. Best to get it over with, he thought; though he was relieved to feel that the envelope was relatively lightweight.

Tea tomorrow, 4pm. Do endeavor to show up.

275 Kings Street

New Malden

Surrey

KT3 4DU

- E

Tea.

Tea?

Why in God's name does she want to have tea?

Tea was proper; civilized. And a very odd backdrop for an inevitable row.

Remus cracked open the front door to find a portly Ministry owl perched outside, waiting patiently for a treat. "Just- hang on a moment," he petitioned the creature, doubling back to pen a quick note. He did say he would write back.

I'll be there.

-R