NOTHING GIRL || Remus Lupin

-Twenty One: Star Wrapped-

Remus sat at his desk, eyes skipping over the lines of correspondence between himself and Helia. They had started a new piece of parchment, this one bigger. The writing's had started off as proper letters, and devolved into the wizard-equivilent of texting, often flying between them five or six times a day. Remus had been sure the family bird now hated him with a fiery passion ever since he had found some suspicious looking brown pellets in his sock drawer. He didn't question how the owl had got into his sock drawer, but was sure it required more effort than the animal put into delivering it's post on time.

FROM: HELIA BLACKSMITH

R,

Hey, I was wondering, when you do your whole wolf thing, do you actually remember anything that happens? Can you send me a list of symptoms? I'm trying to work out if the reality of werewolves is more like The Mortal Instruments or Teen Wolf or whatever. It'll give me a good gage and also an excuse to binge watch TV.

From H

FROM: REMUS LUPIN

Hi H,

I've attached a list of the stuff I remember, but I have no idea what teen wolf or the mortal instruments are. To be honest I've barely watched any TV. My mum's a muggle, but I don't really know a lot about the culture.

-R

FROM: HELIA BLACKSMITH

R,

Okay, I've identified a serious problem right now. Here is a new list detailing all of the movies you NEED to have watched to claim you've achieved anything in life (you can skip the Star Wars prequels btw). How's life?

-H

Remus glanced at that particular note, and then at the hastily drawn up to-do-list accompanying it. There were several that he had heard of (The Avengers, Toy Story, Finding Nemo), but for every one of them, there were ten more that he had no idea about. Smiling, he jotted a quick note and sent it flying out of the window.

FROM: REMUS LUPIN

H,

I do not have the free time to watch all those films (also, Forest Gump sounds like a disease). Merry Christmas, by the way, if you don't get this until tomorrow. I think our owl is one late-night letter away from going on strike. No school, so life is good, but I'll admit, it's weird not seeing you around.

-R

Remus leaned back in his seat. Less than a minute later, the bird reappeared. Remus' first thought was that it had finally had enough of his bullshit, but then he saw the muggle parchment (which he later learned was called paper) attached to it's leg.

FROM: HELIA BLACKSMITH

Look outside.

...........................

The place Remus called home was a small English cottage resting comfortably between two hills. It's thatched roof and adorably mismatched wooden furniture were what made it so comfortably charming. It was the kind of house that was beautiful without feeling like you were ruining it just by being there.

Glancing out of his window in the attic, Remus was greeted with the familiar sight of the neatly mowed grass overflowing with wildflowers and the picket fence that ringed the perimeter, finished with a small iron gate.

What was different, jarringly so, was the small figure sat in the middle of the lawn, dark blue eyes turned up to the window that she had seen the owl disappear through. Her black hair cascaded down around her pale, freckled face, escaping from the confines of her cloak.