the one where the American meets the Marauders & the rest is water under the bridge
oc x remus lupin
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According to the letters, Hope was thrilled that Remus and I would be returning for the beginning of the summer.
According to the letters, Hope had repainted the Lupin's small suburban house a soft blue, growing tired of the plain white that coated the wood.
According to the letters, Hope made Lyall clean up the entire yard as well, and the home would be unrecognizable when Remus and I arrived.
According to the letters, Hope had set up the mattress in Remus's room, fully knowing I wouldn't be needing it.
According to the letters, Hope was healthy.
But, when she didn't show up to the platform to pick us up, I knew she had lied.
When she didn't show up to the platform to pick us up, Remus knew she had lied, too.
"Where is she?" He asked his father curiously.
"Come, Remus."
Remus did not move.
"Where is she?" He asked his father sharply.
"Remus-"
"Where is she, Dad?" He asked his father quietly.
"She's at home."
Remus did not move for a moment. It was as if he were a statue, rooted to his spot on the platform; oblivious to all of the students reuniting happily with their families, but not oblivious to the fact that she had lied.
It was me who took Lyall's arm in preparation to Apparate, not Remus. Remus was a statue.
We Apparated back to the Lupin's small suburban cottage, and the walls were still a chipped white. She had lied.
I gripped Remus's hand tighter, doing all I could to break him from his daze, doing all I could to keep him from turning solid.
We walked down the dirt path, past clumps of tall grass which knotted together in an ugly and disorganized fashion. She had lied.
The house was not recognizable, there Hope had told the truth. The couch cushions were decorated with blankets and bed pillows. Cups and bowls littered the coffee table and piled in the kitchen sink, threatening to crash and shatter at any moment. The dining room table was home to stacks of books and photos and memories.
I led Remus up to his room where the floor was vacant of an extra mattress. She had lied.
Remus stared blankly at his things, his trunk gripped tightly in one arm and my hand in the other. I placed my suitcase down carefully and slid my backpack off of my shoulder before slowly prying his whitening fingers off of his bag handle.
"Rem?" I asked softly, and his eyes flickered to meet mine.
They were a void, his eyes. Typically they were golden, enrapturing, and hypnotizing, but now they were dark, dry, and full of emotions; anger, confusion, sadness. But he was still there. He had to still be there.
