The Stars and Forbidden Cigarettes | Professor Remus Lupin

Doomsday Continues

Lupin stands before her, holding the door open, leaning his side against it. He looks disheveled and worn out, but he tilts his head as he looks at her, and through the darkness, his eyes glint. Reverie's chest is rising and falling as she drags her eyes over the cuts and scrapes and scars adorning his arms, as well as the tears in his shirt. She shakes her head slightly, almost in pain, as her concerned eyes find his tired ones. He rests the side of his head on the doorframe and raises an eyebrow.

"It's late, you know." His voice is low and fills her ears in the deafening silence. "You should sleep more."

"So should you." The corner of Lupin's mouth twitches upwards at this, and he pushes the door open wider and walks into the room. Reverie follows slowly, and she shuts the door lightly behind her as she takes in the room.

It's in a starkly different condition than when she saw it last – the shutters along the windows are hardly still hanging, some floorboards are broken in and others are gone altogether, the bed has fallen into disrepair, and the room itself is dark and dusty and not as bright and warm as she remembers it. But, she notices the couch she'd laid on is the only thing that seems untouched, in the same place before the fire. Lupin glances at her as her eyes fall on it, before pointing his wand to the hearth, the flames beginning to dance and cast a warm, intoxicating light over the room. Reverie looks away from the couch and towards Lupin, who is now holding a hand at his side as he leans against the cabinet by the fire.

She makes her way to the window, gently pushing aside a shutter to look out over the grounds and towards the castle. From this distance, it looks much smaller than she ever imagined it could be. She feels his eyes burn into her back, and she lets the shutter fall before turning around to meet his eyes.

"Does it hurt badly?" She asks, quietly.

Lupin keeps his eyes on her face. "Not much now."

Reverie drops her gaze to the hand at his side, before looking away. Lupin watches as she makes her way towards his trunk on the side of the room.

She drags her hand along the edge, and then she traces the three letters along its side. "Remus John Lupin," she says.

"I'm convinced you know too much about me," Lupin says, watching her fingers glide along the wood. They slow to a stop at his words, and she turns to look at him.

"Does that bother you?" She asks, quietly. He holds her gaze for a few seconds longer before pushing off of the cabinet and making his way to the table by the fire, wrapping his hand around a bottle of what Reverie can only assume is firewhisky. She watches his arm flex as he pours the drink into two glasses. His hand begins to shake as he sets the bottle down, and he holds on to the edge of the table as he grabs a hold of his side. The jolts of pain shooting through his body begin to subside, and he stares into his glass before tipping his firewhisky down his throat in one move. He shuts his eyes before pouring himself a new glass.

Reverie looks down at her hands. "I'm sorry. I won't pry any further. I shouldn't have, to begin with."

Lupin walks towards her, and he places one of the two glasses down on the top of the piano beside them. "Stop apologizing," he says forcefully, tilting his head down to meet her eyes. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and his pulse trips. "It doesn't bother me. Maybe it should, but it doesn't."

Lupin straightens, and Reverie glances at the glass on the piano. She takes it quickly and tips back half of the drink down her throat, flinching at its strength. She puts it back down on the piano, before moving past Lupin and through the room.

"Was this place built just for you?" She asks, without looking at him.

Lupin follows her movements with his eyes. "Yes."