Changes
“He can’t deliver the tables.”
Sirius looks up. Remus is standing at the door to Alphard’s old office, arms folded across his chest.
“Okay,” he nods. He hoped for good news, but he hasn’t allowed himself to be too optimistic. “He told you that?”
“No, his sister did,” Remus replies. He takes a step further in.
“Oh. He’s not in the business anymore?”
“Well, no.”
“Shame. And no way around it?” Subconsciously, he touches the wallet in his front pocket. He hates to admit it, but it does usually work for most things.
“Afraid not.”
“None at all?”
“He died ten years ago, Sirius. So, I’m afraid not.”
Sirius clamps his mouth shut. “Shit. That’s... sorry to hear.”
Remus shrugs. “Suppose you won’t get your matching tables now. What’s plan B?”
“I have to find something else,” Sirius says, pulling his laptop towards him and opening the window with numerous tabs of different woodwork companies. He has tried to find ones nearby with the hope of getting them delivered as soon as possible.
Remus joins him at the table, bending over and placing one hand on the desk. They peer down at the screen. “This one’s nice,” Sirius comments, flicking through the tabs. “This one... not so sure. A bit too dark, maybe. This one’s way too big, we could only fit a few in so that doesn’t work...”
“I like that one,” Remus says when Sirius opens yet another tab. “You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because it looks exactly like the ones we have right now.” He straightens up again and looks down at Sirius. “Is this really necessary? I feel like you’re just wasting money. Our money.”
“Our money?” Sirius repeats, raising his brows.
“You know what I mean,” the other man grumbles. “You could use it for something much smarter.”
“Let me guess... not selling the pub?”
Remus clicks his tongue. “Bingo.” He rounds the desk and starts walking towards the door again. Sirius stands up, quickly.
“Fine,” he says. Remus stops in his tracks and turns around slowly. “Fine, maybe the tables aren’t the most urgent thing. I can ask someone to refurbish them. You know, a bit of whetting, a fresh coat of paint...”
Remus looks positively surprised. “That... actually sounds like a good idea. And a cheaper one, too.”
Sirius spreads his arms wide. “See? This is why I need you.”
“I’ll do it.”
Sirius blinks. “Huh?”
“I said, I’ll do it. I’ve done it a few times before, helped Effie and Monty with some of their furniture. That way, you can just pay me directly. It’ll be even cheaper that way.” He smiles wanly. “I’m cheap.”
“Are you—are you sure? I mean, it’s not an easy job...”
“Really, I don’t mind. Wouldn’t mind the extra money, either.”
Sirius considers it for a moment, but in the end, he can’t really find a downside to it—other than the fact he has no proof of Remus’s skills, of course. But he doesn’t think he would offer to do it if he wasn’t confident in himself.
“Alright, then,” he says. Remus looks mildly surprised again. “Yeah, you can do it. I’ll pay you whatever you want.”
“Just tell me when you want them done, boss.”
Sirius rolls his eyes at the obvious jest. “By the end of next week would be ideal,” he says, “but if that’s too soon—”
“No, I’ve got it. Just means we’ve got less tables to sit at in the pub.”
“Eh, it’s fine, as long as you don’t take all of them at once. Er... do you need help with transporting them? I can call a—”
“No, I’ve got a van.”
“Oh! Oh, yeah. Good, then.”
Remus nods. “Good.”
He turns again and leaves the office, whistling to himself. Sirius stays standing for a few moments, then sits back down. There’s a funny feeling in his stomach, almost like he’s nervous. Almost like—but it can’t be. Sure, Remus is smart and clearly very handy, and he’s not necessarily bad-looking either, but... it can’t be. Sirius wouldn’t fall for someone like him. They’re too different from each other – far too different. Stuff like that only happens in the movies.
And his life is far from a movie.
***
James is in the kitchen when Sirius returns to the house in the evening, working around the stove. It smells delicious, and his stomach immediately begins to grumble. James grins at him over his shoulder. “It’s ready in five,” he says.
“Oh, no, thank you, but I can go and get something for myself from the—”
“No, no. I made enough for you, too.”
“Oh. Thank you. That’s really kind.” Sirius joins him at the stove and clears his throat, feeling nervous again. “I’m not sure why you’re being so nice to me now,” he admits.
James simply shrugs. “Can’t stay angry for too long, can I? Drains my energy.”
“So... everything’s fine?”
“No. As long as the pub’s getting sold, everything’s not fine. But I’m not going to waste my time glaring at you from across the room.”
“That’s, er... nice.”
“How was your day?”
Sirius huffs. “It’s... not progressing as fast as I hoped it would.” He winces at his own words. James doesn’t want to hear this—he doesn’t need to hear this. In fact, he’s probably one of the worst people for him to confide in when it comes to preparing the pub for getting sold. But he’s there, and he’s asking. “I don’t know a shit about what I’m doing. Yeah, there are a lot of things at the pub that don’t work, that need to be changed, but every time I try, it ends up being a dud.”
“What do you mean?”
“I tried to get new tables, similar style to the bar counter, but that didn’t work out. And I want to tear down the tapestry and replace it with something nicer, but...”
“But?”
“But, everything I try to touch has some sort of sentimental value – whether it was Alphard’s favourite floorboard or a toenail he clipped off fifteen sordid years ago.”
James smirks, raising his brows. “Seems like you’re joking about it, though.”
Sirius shrugs. “Oh, well. Haven’t got much else to do.”
“So, what did you decide on? For the tables?”
“Remus promised to take care of them,” Sirius huffs. “So, I guess I’ve got to trust him.”
“You can,” James says, “Trust him, I mean. He’s good at... well, a lot of things. He can definitely get those tables refurbished.”
Sirius smiles wanly. “I’m glad you say that.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“Yeah, I know.”
The other man glances at him. “You do?”
Sirius lets out a quiet laugh. “Of course. Yeah, he treats me like a prick, but maybe he’s entitled to do that.”
“He loves the pub.”
“I know.”
“Probably more than anything.”
“I know.”
James looks at him and then at the food on the stove. “I think it’s ready,” he says.
They sit down together to eat, both very quiet now. The food is incredible, warming Sirius up from the inside. He tells James as much, not wanting to seem ungrateful.
“It’s my mum’s recipe,” James tells him. “I make it every time I’m feeling down.”
Sirius lifts his gaze. “You’re feeling down?”
The other man sighs. “A little bit, yeah. This... this is going to sound silly, but there’s this person I really like. And she’s around quite a lot, and maybe there’s something going on, but... maybe there’s not.”
“Ah. So, you’re confused.”
“I keep dropping hints!” James defends himself, fork clattering to his plate as he raises his hands up. “Like, really obvious ones. But either she doesn’t notice or she’s simply not interested.”
“Hm. That sucks.”
“It’s stupid. I shouldn’t feel so down because of it.”
“It’s understandable.”
“I guess... You ever been in a similar situation?”
Sirius tilts his head from side to side, thinking. “I used to like this person,” he says, carefully, “but I knew from the start it wouldn’t work out. I was keeping up false hope. And it really hurt me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. It was stupid, trying to get into these situations where I thought something might happen. But nothing ever did. He—they turned me down, quite harshly. It was clear from then on that it would never develop into anything other than a one-sided love story.”
“Oh... that’s tough.”
He shrugs. “It happens. But this person... you like her a lot?”
James laughs, glumly. “Since years. But she’s a friend. I don’t want anything to ruin that.”
“Ah. Classic.”
His companion laughs again, this time more brightly. “Tell me about it.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Well, I... I guess I can. I don’t think you’ve any reason to tell her, so...” James sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “It’s Lily. You’ve met her.”
Sirius straightens up, curious. “Lily? Really? But I thought she and...”
James frowns. “You thought she what?”
He’s a bit embarrassed now, because clearly, he was wrong. He clears his throat and murmurs, “I thought she was dating Remus.”
James’s brows lift, and then he bursts out laughing. “What? Oh, no. No, no. Sorry, mate, but that could never happen. They’re best friends, but the two of them dating? Nope.”
“Oh. I... must’ve got it wrong, then.”
James huffs a laugh, looking almost melancholy. “Yeah, well.”
“And what’re you planning to do about it?”
“Hm? Oh, I don’t know... it seems too risky. Like, if she finds out I like her, maybe she’ll think it’s weird. And I can’t stand for it to be weird with her.”
“You’ll never find out if you don’t try, though.”
“No, you’re right. But I don’t know what’s more worth it – finding out she likes me too or preserving our friendship as it is.”
“Yeah... it’s a tough spot to be in.”
They finish eating, Sirius chewing on this new information in his head. He truly thought there’s something going on between Remus and Lily—not that he’s put a lot of thought into it, of course. But they’re often together, and they seem very fond of each other. But then, that’s how friends often are. He just assumed there’s something more there.
He does the dishes while James puts away the leftovers. Sirius likes it, the atmosphere in the kitchen on nights like this. It feels homely, much more so than his own home ever has. The pub is still on his mind, but he no longer feels like that’s the only thing he’s here for. Somewhere, deep inside, he has started enjoying these small, quiet moments that he has never really got to experience before.
“Thanks for helping,” James says when Sirius finishes drying the final bowl.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. He twists the kitchen towel in his hands, hesitantly. He needs some advice, and James seems like the perfect person for that. He’s both helpful and friends with Remus. And besides, what more can Sirius lose? “Listen, James,” he says, “Could I ask you something? I need a bit of advice.”
“Go on, hit me.”
“I’ve just been wondering... how do I get through to Remus? He’s clearly set on hating me, and since it seems I’m going to need his help more than I thought...”
James smiles amusedly. “He’s a tough one to crack. Took me a while, too.”
“Oh?”
“He always got along with your uncle really well. Not because Alphard treated him specially, but because he treated him like anyone else—mind, he treated everyone very kindly. But Remus can’t stand anyone sucking him up. Won’t work on him.”
“I haven’t been—flattering him. I just want to find some common ground. Make him see that this might be a good thing for us all.”
James raises his brows, slightly. “And how exactly?”
“Well, I’ve told him that—”
“No,” James cuts him off, “I mean, how exactly might this benefit anyone but you and your family? What’s in it for the employees? The village? Us?”
“It’s going to be a big place,” Sirius says. “Plenty of jobs on offer.”
His companion hums, tilting his head from one side to the other. “Well, that’s one thing. Won’t convince a lot of people, though.”
“Tourism. It’s not just any chain restaurant – people come to these places from surroundings towns, from further away, even.”
“Alphard’s, too.”
“Right, uh… It would also, er...”
“That’s your problem, right there. You need to see the situation as it is. You’re going to sell the place and return to London with a fatter wallet, and you won’t ever have to sacrifice another thought to this village, let alone your uncle’s pub.” James smiles sadly and folds his arms. “Us, though... we’re going to feel it for a long time. Not just here,” he says, patting his pocket and the wallet hidden inside, “but here, too.” He pats the left side of his chest next.
“But I didn’t come here to—”
“Yes, I know. You only came here to get the job done. I know, Sirius. You do what you have to, then. But at least stop pretending we’re all on an even playing field. You’re here,” he demonstrates with his hands again, lifting one high above his head and lowering the other as far down as he can, “and Remus is here. You can’t befriend him unless you make sure you’re on the same level.” He takes the now wrinkly kitchen towel from Sirius’s hands, gently, and hangs it to dry on the handle of a cupboard. “And as long as you keep ruling, you never will be.”
Sirius laughs, a tad too loudly. But he can’t stop himself. “This isn’t the British Monarchy, James. We’re all equal.” He turns to the sink to wash his hands. “But I am the owner of the place, and somebody’s got to make the decisions.”
James sighs. “Yeah, I know.”
Sirius shrugs, indicating they’ve reached an end with their conversation, and then heads towards the door. Just before he steps out, James says, “Are you busy?”
Sirius turns, slowly. Of course, he’s not busy. He’s never busy here after the workday is finished. What could he possibly have on his to-do list – watching telly? Walking around, looking at the Christmas lights in town? Baking?
“Probably just going to go up and sleep,” he responds.
“Well, if you’re not tired yet...”
“What’re you planning?” he inquires, suspicious.
James takes a deep breath, apparently bracing himself for something. “Maybe you ought to see the place from a different perspective. You know, in the evening when people go there not to have lunch or a few beers, but to meet each other. To have fun. That sort of thing.”
He lifts his brows. “You want to take me to the pub? My pub?”
It still feels weird to say. Yes, he owns the place, but nothing about it feels his own. He hardly knew Alphard, and the village is strange to him too – not to get started on the people there. He has made approximately five acquaintances, none of whom he actually feels familiar with.
He shakes his head, quickly. He shouldn’t have let any of them get as close as they have. James, although he knows why Sirius is there, is being so very kind. Euphemia and Fleamont too, though they have no reason not to be – they still think he’s Alphard’s nephew who has simply come to take care of his uncle’s things. Technically, that’s true. It’s just much more complicated.
They have already made a crack to his shell, the one he thought would be easy to keep up. He doesn’t enjoy working for his father’s company – in fact, he loathes most of the people there. But it’s the path he’s chosen, and a good businessman doesn’t let other things interfere with their work. Money comes first, his father always says. Other things will follow.
“I don’t think you’re seeing the potential of the place,” James reasons. “I promise I won’t lecture you about it – you’ve clearly already made up your mind – but I think you’ll enjoy it, a night out at the pub. We don’t have to stay late.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think so.”
“Just one beer? Or wine, I don’t know what you drink.”
Sirius scoffs. “I do drink beer.”
James smiles. “Never know with you posh people.”
“Oh, alright! Now who’s putting a gap between us?”
His companion shrugs, lightly. “What do you say?”
“Fine. But just one beer.”
James grins. “Perfect. I’ll go change.” He eyes Sirius’s work attire and pulls a face. “And maybe you should, too.”
***
The pub is much more crowded now than earlier when Sirius left work. There’s loud chatter and laughter as people drink their beers or hot chocolates. He doesn’t spot one empty table. He has never seen the place so full – but, admittedly, he has never stayed that late, always busy to get back to the guesthouse after finishing work.
“It’s a good night,” James comments. He gestures towards the bar counter, guiding Sirius to turn by touching his shoulder. “Let’s get something to drink and find a seat.”
They push past crowds of people to get to the bar, where there’s a bit more space to move around. James looks around them again. “Maybe we can just sit here. Everywhere else seems to be full.”
Reluctantly, Sirius sits down on one of the high stools. He would rather sit in some quiet corner, where no one – especially not Remus – could see him. But there he is.
They wait a few minutes as other people order their drinks. Sirius crosses his fingers that it’ll be Poppy who comes to ask them instead of Remus, but of course, luck’s rarely on his side. Remus finally turns to them and then falters, seemingly only now noticing it’s them. “Hi,” he says, warily, eyes darting between the two. “Uh... you looking for something to drink?”
“No, Remus, I’m just trying to decide what the new coasters should look like,” Sirius fires back, gesturing to the stack on the counter.
“Two pints, please,” James intervenes. “I’m just showing Sirius what the pub’s like after everyone gets off work.” He and Remus share a long look, likely with some meaning behind it.
Remus turns away to get their drinks. Sirius glances at James. “He’s not happy I’m here,” he says. It’s not a question – it was clear as day, the expression on Remus’s face.
“He’s just surprised,” James counters.
Remus returns soon with two pints, plopping them down on the counter with a bit too much aggression. “Enjoy,” he says before walking off to take someone else’s order.
Sirius watches him go, then takes a sip of beer. “I don’t think he’s just surprised,” he comments. “I think he gets a headache from looking in my general direction.”
“I’d say you’re wrong,” James says, his eyes on Remus too, “but I don’t think you are.”
They finish their beers almost in silence, but it’s not as awkward as he thought it might be. He’s eager to get back to the house, though. He might’ve almost enjoyed James’s company, but he feels uncomfortable, sitting there at the counter. It’s his pub, for fuck’s sake, and he still feels like a complete stranger.
Remus saunters over again soon, taking the empty pints from them. “Anything else?” he asks, avoiding Sirius’s gaze.
“We’ll take another round,” James smiles, “Thanks, Moony.”
Remus nods and gets to it. Sirius glances at James, curiously. “Moony?”
“It’s just... a nickname.”
“For Remus?”
James chuckles. “Well, his name is Remus Lupin. You know... wolf, wolf? And I call him Moony because most of the time – and I say this with all my love – he can be a moody git.”
“So, you agree!” Sirius says, delighted.
James sends him a look. “Yes, but I get to say it aloud because I happen to love him.”
“Fine, alright. But I think he’s a moody git, too.”
Another two pints appear in front of them. Remus looks him directly in the eyes. “Back at you.”
“Oh—I didn’t mean to—”
“Just drink your beer.” Remus makes to turn away, but Sirius quickly reaches for his arm, touching it briefly. Then he pulls away.
“I’m sorry.”
“For touching me or for calling me a git?”
“For both,” Sirius says. “I shouldn’t have said that. Or... or done that.”
“You’re forgiven,” Remus says dully. This time he does turn away, not to serve another customer but apparently as a sign of dismissal. Sirius and James share a look.
“Should I...?”
“Probably,” James mouths.
Sirius stands up, feeling tipsy despite having drunk only one beer and a bit of wine earlier with dinner. He walks past a dozen people to get to the other side of the bar counter. Poppy looks up at him in surprise. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realise you’re working tonight.”
“I’m not,” Sirius says. He glances past her. “Can I talk to Remus for a moment? In the back?”
“Yes, go ahead. I’ll manage.”
He smiles gratefully and swoops around her to where Remus is standing, back still facing the counter. He taps him on the shoulder. “Yeah?” Remus says, lifting his head. His eyes turn stony very quickly. “Oh, bugger off.”
“Do you smoke?”
“…Maybe. Why?”
Sirius jerks his head towards the door, hoping to come off casual and not desperate. “Have a cigarette with me?”
Remus’s chest heaves with a deep breath. “Do I have to?”
“I’d like for you to.”
“Poppy will be alone at the bar.”
“She already gave me the green light.”
Shutting his eyes for a second, Remus turns and pushes past him. “Alright, fine,” he murmurs as he goes. Sirius rushes to follow him, dodging people this way and that as they make it out of the door. Outside, it’s freezing cold. Remus is wearing only his work t-shirt.
They walk to the side of the building to get away from the door and windows. Sirius pulls his cigarette pack out of his coat pocket and shakes one out, offering it to Remus next. Then he digs out his lighter and lights the cigarette behind the shelter of his palm.
“Didn’t take you for a smoker,” Remus comments, lighting up as well. “Any of your lot.”
Sirius smirks weakly. “We hide it well.”
The other man shivers, wrapping an arm around himself. “So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Nothing in particular,” Sirius responds. He feels bad now – he’s wearing a jumper and his winter coat over it. “How’s it going?”
Remus eyes him suspiciously. “Am I getting fired?”
“What? No!”
“Then why are we out here?!”
“I wanted to apologise...”
“Well, you could’ve told me that sooner! Or better yet – inside!”
“I didn’t mean to call you a git! It’s just, James said something, and—”
“Oh, honestly, Sirius, I don’t care what you think of me.”
“I don’t actually think you’re a git, though!”
“I don’t need to hear this.”
“I think you’re a great employee – one of the best I’ve ever seen, not that I’ve been anyone’s boss before... well, a manager, sure, but never—”
“I forgive you. Can we go inside?”
“You’re such a hard worker, and you really, really care about the pub—it’s obvious—and you’re super handy, and—”
“Enough with the compliments.”
“—and you’re not a git—”
“I said, enough with the—”
“—and I really, truly appreciate all the work you do.”
Remus closes his mouth and stares him in the eyes, cigarette halfway to his lips. Then he nods curtly. “Thank you.”
“Just thought you should know.”
“I... appreciate it.”
Sirius looks away, taking a drag and blowing it out slowly. Then he eyes the way Remus’s skin is now on goosebumps. “You can have my coat,” he offers.
“No, thanks. I’ll just go inside.”
“Remus. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
Remus shrugs. “You’re the boss, I’m the employee.”
“Yes, but you’re way better than me at all of this.”
“Are you gifting me the pub?”
Sirius huffs a quiet laugh. “I wish I could.”
Remus brings his cigarette to his lips, exhaling the smoke slowly. “Yeah, I wish so too.”
“Hm.”
“And why can’t you? Not to me, I mean, but... why do you have to sell it?”
“I told you already.”
“No, you didn’t. You told me you’re selling it. You said it’s because you’ve no intention of keeping it. But why sell it onwards?”
“Because, it’s—”
“Easy, right?” The look on Remus’s face is full of disappointment. Sirius stares at him for a long time. It’s not easy, actually. He wants to tell him that. None of it is easy – moving there, getting the pub all ready, telling everyone what they are going to be faced with in just a few weeks. Firing people. Tearing things down. It’s not easy.
His father’s words ring in his head. You’ll travel there to get that thing off the bottom of our shoes. It’s probably nothing but a grimy little hole, but it’ll give us some sixty thousand pounds at best.
He knows what it’s all for, and Remus does, too. Of course, they’re selling it for money. Alphard didn’t leave anyone anything else – just the pub. Sirius doesn’t even know where he lived, as there was no other property mentioned in the will. Maybe he lived with someone else, off the record. Not that he cares... much.
“Yeah,” he says, then, into the dark night. “It’s easy.”
Remus drops his cigarette butt on the floor and stumps it beneath his shoe. “For some people,” he grits.
“I’ll look for other places for you. Somewhere to work. Put in a good word for you.”
“There aren’t many places in the village,” Remus says. “And I’m not leaving the village.”
“Yeah, that’s... that’s fair.”
“I’ll go inside.”
“Hey, wait. I was, uh... I was just wondering. Unrelated.” He chuckles awkwardly. “Do you know where Alphard lived?”
Remus blinks at him. “You mean, you don’t know?” Sirius shakes his head, and the other man heaves a sigh. “Fine. Come on, I’ll show you.”