Bewitched | wolfstar au

Thirty-two

Remus is shaking his head before he can even process it. 

"No," he says firmly, taking a step back. Sirius' hands fall from his shoulders, leaving a cold sensation behind. 

"Oh," Sirius frowns for a second, but his face brightens up again immediately. "Well, it's this potion that you can use-"

"I know what Wolfsbane Potion is, Sirius," Remus can't help how offended he sounds. Of course he knows what Wolfsbane is.

"Then why did you say no?" Sirius asks, raising an accusatory eyebrow. 

"No as in we can't use it," Remus sighs. He would've brewed it himself if he could. 

"Why not?" Sirius frowns again, deeper this time. "Do you have an allergy?"

Remus almost snorts at that. "I'm not. I just can't afford it." He shrugs, then looks down at his feet. 

Now it's Sirius' turn to look offended. "You don't have to," he drops himself down on the chair he was sitting on before, and crosses one leg over the other. "If you haven't noticed, I'm quite rich." He shoots Remus a beautiful smirk, and Remus has to look out the window to make sure that he doesn't melt into a puddle of werewolf.

"I... Wolfsbane is really expensive, Sirius. There's a reason why hardly anyone uses it."

"That's why we have this very useful thing..." Sirius tilts his head, a finger on his chin. "Mm, what's it called... Oh, yes. Money! Ever heard of it?"

Remus shoots him a look.

"I can't let you buy me anything else, Sirius..." I feel bad enough living with you rent-free, Remus adds to himself. 

Sighing, Sirius stands up, coming close enough that Remus can smell the familiar scent of flowers on his skin. "I wasn't exactly asking for permission, Remus," he's mocking Remus, and Remus can't decide whether he likes it or not. 

"I can go home... there's a basement..." The look of horror on Sirius' face stops Remus' words in his throat. 

"I'll be fucking damned if I let you leave this house to lock yourself up in a basement."

The sudden edge to Sirius' voice surprises Remus. While not the ideal place to spend your summer holidays, his basement isn't that bad. Especially if you just ignore all the scratch marks on the wall... and the peeling paint... and the cold of  the stone floor. But watching Sirius' face, expressive as it always is, Remus feels uneasy. Even the room feels a little darker than it was a minute ago. 

"Sirius..." Remus trails off, unsure. Sirius looks at him, lips pursed. "Just let me take care of it," he says, and then adds, "Please?" 

Remus looks down at his hands, but turns his eyes back up as soon as they fall on the pink scars on his skin. He wants to argue against it, wants to stop Sirius from wasting his money, but God knows how much he hates going home.

It's not the creaky chairs that smell of cheap liquor, nor the void of a cabinet that once proudly bore Hope's china. And it's not the garden that never bears a flower anymore. It's not the sad wreck of a house that was once a home, and it's not even Lyall Lupin who hasn't been sober for the past decade.

What Remus can't bear is his mother. Her kindness, and that smile that blooms on her face when she sees him, no matter what she's going through. Remus hates it, he hates that she loves him so much. He hates even more that she loves Lyall so much, refusing to leave his side. He hates how hard she tries to find in a drunkard the man she fell in love with, the man who once loved her.