The Stars and Forbidden Cigarettes | Professor Remus Lupin

The Impending Dinner

Still reeling from the close call with Dumbledore and Fudge, she waits for what feels like hours -- but truly is only a few minutes -- to leave the alleyway. Running back to the Honeydukes cellar, she's out of breath by the time she reaches the One-Eyed Witch Passage and exhausted once within the quiet halls of Hogwarts.

The passage is treacherously close to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, and her heart is beating a thousand miles an hour as she waits for a minute in the hallway, straining her ears to hear any footsteps from that direction. The silence leaves her wondering if Lupin had even gotten back yet, and refusing to feel any subconscious disappointment, she walks to the Gryffindor Tower and the couch by the fire.

~~~~~~~~~

At dinner that night, McGonagall stands to speak to the 20 or so students eating in the Great Hall. A hush falls over the already quiet room when she stands, and Reverie knows that, as much as she doesn't want to be looking towards the front of the room, she has to look up at her.

She forces her eyes to remain poignantly on McGonagall, resisting any temptation to wander somewhere towards her left.

"Good evening, students, and of course, Happy Holidays to you all. Seeing as there are so few of us here, Professor Dumbledore, the staff, and I have agreed that a pleasant, formal Christmas dinner is in order --- for those of us who celebrate and would like to celebrate with others -- on Christmas Day at 7 o'clock in the evening. If this is something you would like to partake in, Professor Lupin has very courteously offered his large, adjoining office." As she finishes, she looks back towards Dumbledore, who just nods as if to say she covered everything there was to cover. McGonagall looks back towards the students and nods and proceeds to take her seat.

As the Hall begins to hum with light chatter once again, Reverie feels Lupin's eyes burning into her. Of course it has to be in his office.

She's surprised at first that he apparently offered it, given how private he can be, but then she remembers how amiable he is with seemingly everyone else but her, and she feels a jolt run through her veins as she thinks about his lips on hers the night before and what he'd told her before leaving today.

Sufficiently amiable, she thinks, and then mentally slaps herself. She makes it a rule to not think like that.

Her cheeks redden with the thought of being in that room with him once again, and she tips her goblet back vigorously to avoid his gaze. She knows from her peripheral vision that he's looked away. He doesn't look back for the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~~

On Christmas Eve, Reverie skips dinner to sit in the library. Her parents used to hold an extensive Christmas Eve dinner for close family and open a select number of presents that night, and she knows sitting and eating in the Great Hall as if it were just another day would be too much. Instead, she finds a book called Using Magic in the Muggle World: An Analysis, and immerses herself in it. She figures building her knowledge and argumentation for her parents sake is as much repayment as she could offer in her current state. She wonders how Fudge would feel about another strongly-worded letter being the first thing he reads in the new year.

She leaves when it's pitch black outside and she's sure that everyone is in their rooms if not already asleep. Only when she smells a very faint aroma of chocolate and cigarette smoke does she realize she's wrong, and when a large, warm hand wraps around her arm, she looks to her right and her eyes meet Lupin's, and she lets him pull her in.

They're suddenly close together in a small nook off the main corridor, by a hidden staircase. Lupin can't help but notice that they're not as close as they had been in the alleyway behind the Three Broomsticks. She looks down at his hand around her upper arm, and then back up at him. He forces himself to not look away.

"You have got to stop doing this," she says, accusingly.

He lets go of her arm. The candle light from the hallway just barely lights up her face, and he isn't sure if this is a good idea anymore.

"Look, I don't think it would be good if you came tomorrow night." His voice is deep and dark and raspy, as if he hadn't spoken or slept in a day. The sound travels down to her core.

Two beats pass. Reverie is looking up at him bewildered. "What?"

"I don't think you should come to the dinner tomorrow night," he repeats, already regretting it. They're too close. The point of this was to put distance between him and her.

"Why did you even offer your office in the first place?" She asks, growing irritated.

"I didn't," he hisses back, pulling her deeper into the shadows as footsteps echo in the hallway perpendicular to them. They both look back towards the entrance as the sound fades.

How is he supposed to tell her that, when McGonagall suggested his office, he wanted to refuse because the student that had been inside twice had already perturbed the air within -- as well as him -- and he wanted to be able to prevent another invasion of his personal space from a safe distance, when he wasn't acting on instinct and emotions?

But, their breaths are heavy in the hot air of the small, dim space, and his thoughts are already jumbled. She forces the heat out of her mind, turns back towards him, and glares.

"How can you go from saying that you wouldn't have been fine without..." her voice falls and she lets the missing words hang in the air between them, "...to telling me to stay out?"

In the small space, it feels as if he is towering over her. He feels the heat off of her body and wonders if her skin would burn him if he lifted his fingers just so. He doesn't move, but it was getting hard not to.

"Not regretting something and knowing it can't happen again are two separate things."

One beat passes. She makes it a point to not look away.

"And what does me coming have to do with it happening again?"

His eyes flit to her lips before meeting hers once again, intensely. "You coming has everything to do with it happening again."

She hates how flustered she gets, and she hates looking into his dark green eyes because all they do is remind her how much she likes them. He hates how much he likes being so close to her.

It's self-destructive. He knows he won't get any sleep tonight.

She shuts her eyes and turns slightly away from him. "I'm so alone, all of the time. And now you're forcing me to be even more alone on Christmas?" She turns back towards him. "That's a shitty move. I'm going to be there."

He doesn't dare try to touch her again, to get her to stay, to get her to see reason, and so she leaves the nook.

For the record, he was right: he didn't get any sleep that night. But, neither did she. 

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A/N: Chapter 15! It's shorter than preferred BUT I decided I'd split this chapter and the next up -- my excuse is that good things take time (???) Anyway, stay tuned for the next chapter soon!