Champagne & Dishes
You never imagine the world ending on the most normal of days. The most ordinary of weeks. At least, Remus didn’t. He expected the end of the world to be preannounced by zombies, a nuclear war, a worldwide drought or all of the above combined.
But not like this. Not while washing dishes, hands submerged in soapy water, while a book podcast played softly in the background about Tolkien and the creation of Elvish.
A few many hours earlier
Remus groaned as his alarm went off. Today was a good day—emotionally, at least. He and Mary would finally meet the landlord of the neighboring property to sign the contract that could change their business for the better.
Physically, however, he felt like he might die. His joints screamed with stiffness, his knee pulsing with an ache that flared angrily against the cool morning air. For a moment, he debated staying still, willing the pain to recede.
When his phone buzzed, he sighed, forcing himself to reach for it on the bedside table.
“Hi, yes, this is he speaking... Okay, I understand. Perfect, we’ll be there at noon. Great, have a nice day.”
As soon as he hung up, Remus let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
It was relatively late yet he groaned and hit snooze, indulging himself with ten more minutes of deep breathing beneath the safety of his blankets. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference—just ten precious minutes of quiet stillness. When the alarm struck again, Remus carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed. He paused, steadying himself as he stood, the cold floor greeting his bare feet like an uninvited guest.
His morning routine was familiar, unhurried. A calm steadiness seemed stitched into the fabric of his life. He chose his softest sweater—a well-loved, oversized knit in a muted gray, with faint pilling on the cuffs and a stretch that swallowed him like armor. His cane, worn but elegant with its polished wooden handle, leaned faithfully against the dresser. He grabbed it as he moved through his apartment, the tap-tap of its rhythm trailing him like a quiet friend.
The kitchen was filled with the comforting hum of his coffee machine, a shining silver beast sitting proudly on the counter. Remus scooped coffee grounds into his prized possession: the ridiculously expensive coffee machine he’d gifted himself last Christmas. Because priorities. He’d rather shiver through a sub-zero winter than skimp on quality coffee. The machine purred to life, and the kitchen filled with the smell of dark roast. He added a splash of hazelnut syrup—always hazelnut, sometimes chocolate, never both. It sweetened things just enough to start the day on a softer note.
Breakfast was less romantic. Toast, plain and slightly over-toasted, grabbed one-handed as he swiped his keys off the counter and headed out the door.
The drive to Lunar Pages was quiet, the streets just waking up alongside him. The sign outside their little bookshop cafe caught the first glimmers of light. The name was painted in an elegant blue font across dark wood—nostalgic yet modern he thought. Today was Mary’s turn to open—an unspoken ritual where they traded shifts each week—so by the time he arrived, the faint aroma of fresh pastries and roasted beans already wafted through the air.
Inside, the shop was quiet, a safe space of soft murmurs and warm lighting. It was slow this morning, just as Remus preferred. A couple of minutes later and their shop was slowly being filled by their regulars, Remus greeted each one of them with a warm smile, his tone soft and steady—a contrast to the vibrant energy Mary would bring later. An older woman ambled in, her knobby hands resting on the counter. She squinted up at him over her glasses, smiling kindly.
“Hello Remmy” She insisted on calling him by what Remus knew to be a horrible nickname but he would never tell Teresa as much.
“Good mornin´ Teresa, how are you today? Are you looking for anything in particular or just here for Mary´s cookies?”
Teresa laughed, nudging Remus lightly “You silly boy, actually I was looking for something and was hoping you could help me, you see my niece loves those vampire books. The ones with romance. She’s read Twilight more times than she can count. Got anything like that?”
Remus rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, glancing at the shelves. “I think I have just the thing.” He stepped over to the YA section, his cane tapping faintly against the wooden floorboards, and returned with Tocar el cielo by H. M. Zubieta. “This one has vampires, romance, and a bit of bite. I think she’ll like it.”
The woman’s brown face lit up. “Oh, she’ll love you for this. You’re a treasure, dear.”
A girl no older than fourteen came in next, with a Percy Jackson tote bag slung over her shoulder she leaned over eagerly. She hesitated at the counter, looking at the pins they had neatly placed there “Hello Sir, so okay, I need something new. I’ve read Percy Jackson like... way too many times. You got anything with magic? Or swords?”
The girl grinned up at him. Remus arched his brow. “You’re looking for epic adventures and well-written characters?”
“Obviously.”
Remus smiled fondly, his gaze soft. “You should try Brandon Sanderson’s Start with The Final Empire. Trust me.”
“Deal.” The girl beamed, nodded and ran off in search of said book. As the morning ebbed on, Remus moved through the shop with his usual quiet diligence: reorganizing shelves, refilling the display of bookmarks. At some point, he made his way to the back of the shop, where the warm glow of sunlight poured into a small prep area. There, elbow-deep in what looked to be pastry dough, was Mary Macdonald.
Mary was a force of her own—a vibrant splash of color against Remus’s quieter palette. Today she wore a flowy pink blouse, dotted with faint white flowers, tucked into high-waisted red corduroy pants. Her curly hair was tied back with a soft scarf, strands escaping around her face as she worked. Her hands moved with practiced rhythm, kneading the dough, her brows drawn in concentration. The kitchen smelled of sugar and butter and just being there felt like entering a different, cozier world.
“So are you as nervous as I am?” she asked suddenly, not looking up. “I mean, geez, I’m trembling, Remus. This expansion could mean everything for us. Can you imagine? A full-on restaurant bookshop. Twice the size of this place. Just imagine Moony, walls covered in books, from top to bottom. And then—” she gestured excitedly with a flour-covered hand, —“tiny little tables that give off fairy cottage core vibes. Literally my dream.”
Remus sighed gleefully leaning against the doorframe, shifting his weight carefully “More than nervous? I’m... cautiously terrified. Economically, this might be the least intelligent thing we’ve ever done. But then—” He sighed gleefully, his lips curving into a small smile, running a hand through his hair. “But at the same time… I’m like, fuck it. Let’s do it. I’m so excited, I could even scream”
Mary gasped exaggeratingly and grinned, finally glancing up at him. “You? Screaming? I’d pay good money to see that.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Not happening.”
“Fine, but I’ll take pastries and books as consolation.” Mary dusted her hands clean and leaned her hip against the counter. “Oh, by the way, the old ladies’ reading club is meeting tomorrow. They requested more cushions for the chairs.”
“Of course they did,” Remus replied with mock exasperation.
“So,” Remus added after a beat, “what’re you working on?”
“Pastries for the old ladies’ book club,” Mary replied, folding the dough with a graceful flick of her wrists. “And speaking of books—did you finish Written in the Stars last night?” Mary got all excited as she stared up at her friend.
“The sapphic one? Opposites attract?” Remus had not even started it, if he was being honest.
“That 's the one! It’s so good. I swear, Elle and Darcy might be my favorite book couple right now. I’m telling you, you need to read it.”
Remus smirked faintly. “I’ll add it to the list.”
Mary’s grin turned mischievous. “Anyway, speaking of opposites attract..., how’s the cute doctor? Did he come by today?”
Remus froze, turning slightly red. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, Remus John Lupin. The hot doctor. The one Lily one hundred percent sent your way.”
“I swear to God, she never gives up.” Remus busied himself by fiddling with a coffee cup, avoiding her gaze. “At least this time, the guy doesn’t seem half bad.”
Mary snorted “Not half bad? Remus Lupin, that’s the highest praise I’ve ever heard you give a man, that's practically a love confession coming from you. Should I start planning the wedding?”
“Oh! shut up, you dork or I'll make Lily interested in your love life again, you know she loves to play cupid”
“You wouldn't dare.”
Remus checked his watch, the teasing dying down as reality came rushing back. “We should go.”
Mary sighed theatrically, throwing her apron onto a nearby hook. “Give me two minutes.” She disappeared into the small storage room and reappeared moments later, now wearing a tailored pink coat and ankle boots that somehow made her look effortlessly chic.
Remus had already placed a small sign at the shop’s entrance: Out for a break, back in ten minutes. He locked the café carefully, his movements precise. Next door, two men in charcoal suits stood waiting for them, their briefcases tucked neatly at their sides.
Mary nudged him with her elbow as they walked. “Ready to charm the pants off these guys?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Too bad. I’m wearing my lucky boots. They’ll have no choice but to love us.”
He didn’t respond, but as they approached the men, he allowed the faintest smile to tug at the corner of his lips.
They stepped forward together.
The sound of clinking glass echoed softly through the quiet, book-lined walls of Lunar Pages as Mary popped open the bottle of champagne with an audible pop. Remus flinched slightly at the sound, but the smile on his face never faltered.
“To the dream!” Mary announced dramatically, raising her glass high.
“To reckless decisions and barely checking our bank accounts!” Remus added with a snort, raising his own glass in return. They clinked their glasses together and took a sip—Remus smile reflected his giddy happiness.
“You know,” Mary said, slumping comfortably against the counter, “if my mother ever found out I just agreed to a lease without triple-checking it with a lawyer, she’d lose her mind.”
Remus chuckled and leaned his weight against the back wall. “Your mother thinks I’m a bad influence. She’d be sending me ‘I told you so’ letters by tomorrow.”
“Please,” Mary scoffed, “she loves you. You’re like the responsible older brother she wishes I had.”
“Responsible?” Remus quirked a brow. “I’m pretty sure I encouraged us to sign that lease after two hours of convincing myself I wouldn’t vomit from the nerves.”
Mary grinned, topping up their glasses. “That’s what makes you responsible—you worry first. I, on the other hand, live in delusion. But look at us! Soon, we’ll have a fairy cottage-core haven, like something out of Pinterest. Pastries and books—what’s better than that?”
Remus grinned. “Pastries and books and a sturdy business loan we’ll be paying off until we’re sixty.”
“That part,” Mary mumbled, raising her glass again. “Cheers to being forever broke!”
They laughed, and Remus took another sip before placing his glass down and fishing his phone out of his pocket. “We’ve got to tell Lily before she finds out from someone else,” he said.
Mary groaned, already knowing where this was going. “She’s not going to pick up. She’s either at work or chasing Harry around like he’s the Tasmanian Devil.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Remus said, dialing anyway. Predictably, Lily’s voicemail picked up almost instantly:
“Hey, Lily Evans can’t come to the phone right now, but if it’s important, please leave a message after the beep!”
The beep sounded, and before Remus could speak, Mary snatched the phone from him. “Hey, Lils, it’s your girl Mary here—and Moony, obviously—”
Remus leaned close to the phone, his voice conspiratorial. “We have terrible news.”
A dramatic pause.
Mary finally chimed back in, her tone teasing. “We’re going to be horribly in debt because we just signed the lease for the business next door!”
“Yes, Lily,” Remus added, his voice warm and giddy, “we’re incredibly excited. We want to celebrate with you whenever you can.”
Mary, smiling broadly, finished with, “Give Harry tons of kisses from us. Tell him I’m bringing cupcakes next time I see him.”
Satisfied, they ended the voice note. Mary handed the phone back to Remus, smirking. “She’s going to cry when she hears it. From joy—or stress.”
“She’ll probably stress over us not reading the fine print,” Remus said.
Mary waved him off. “Oh, she’ll get over it.” Then, she stretched her arms dramatically. “Speaking of celebrating, I’m texting Marlene and Dorcas. We’re hitting their restaurant tonight. You coming?”
Remus hesitated. “I’ll pass this time. I think a quiet evening in will do me good.”
Mary frowned, her face softening with concern, but she didn’t push it. “You sure? I could bring you something back.”
“Nah,” Remus said with a small smile. “Go have fun. Say hi to the girls for me.”
Mary sighed but nodded. “Fine. You’re a stubborn old man, you know that?”
“Better than being a reckless young one.”
They shared a smile, and Mary grabbed her coat, giving him a quick hug before heading out. Remus turned the sign on the door to “Closed—Back Tomorrow!” and locked up behind him.
On his way to his car, Remus couldn’t resist stopping by the small thrift store two doors down. The golden hour light filtered through the windows, spilling onto mismatched furniture and bookshelves that looked as though they had been there for decades.
He wandered aimlessly, running his fingers over spines of old books and worn jackets. Then, a ring display caught his eye. Small, tarnished rings sat nestled in a velvet tray, each one unique. He picked up two—a silver one with intricate vines etched into it and another, simpler band with a small red stone. They felt like treasures, like something that belonged to stories. So he had no choice but to buy the rings.
He kept walking through halls he had visited millions of times but each time new items seemed to appear, for instance a bookshelf pulled him in, and a small, battered copy of La Celestina caught his eye. Its edges were yellowed, and when he opened it, he found small handwritten notes in the margins—thoughtful musings, underlined sentences, someone else’s interpretation of the text. He loved books like this; they felt lived-in, full of someone else’s quiet love for the words. Like the rings he took it with him.
Finally, as he made his way toward the counter to pay, he spotted something small—a plush toy, soft and gray, shaped like a baby wolf. He smiled to himself, immediately thinking of Harry. Next time I see him, he thought, he’ll love this.
With the thrifted treasures tucked safely in his tote bag, Remus stopped by a small deli he liked. The smell of freshly baked bread hit him immediately, warm and comforting. He ordered a simple sandwich—turkey, brie, and cranberry chutney—and grabbed a small soda for the road.
When he finally made it home, the day’s exhaustion washed over him. He placed the rings on his nightstand, the plush wolf on his desk, and the sandwich on the table. He let out a slow breath, finally feeling at peace in the quiet stillness of his little apartment.
After changing into a pair of soft sweatpants and a worn T-shirt, Remus sat on the couch with his sandwich and the old book, flipping through pages and smiling at the small, scribbled notes. But the long day had taken its toll, and before settling in completely, he indulged in the one ritual that brought him true comfort on days like this—a hot bath.
He padded softly to the bathroom, flipping on the light with a quiet hum of satisfaction. With practiced ease, he turned on the taps, adjusting the water temperature until it steamed faintly and began filling the clawfoot tub. As the room warmed, he lit a few candles placed haphazardly on the sink and windowsill—soft lavender and vanilla, their familiar scents mixing into something calming.
Remus poured himself a glass of deep red wine, a small indulgence he rarely allowed but always savored, and set it within reach of the tub. Stripping off his clothes, he gingerly lowered himself into the water, wincing slightly as the heat met his aching joints before his body finally relaxed into the embrace of the water.
For several minutes, he simply lay still, eyes half-closed as the tension seeped from his bones, the subtle flicker of candlelight casting dancing shadows across the walls. Then, balancing the wine glass on the edge of the tub, he reached for La Celestina. He thumbed through the well-worn pages, delighting in the commentary scribbled into the margins—inked fragments of someone else’s thoughts, as if he were reading alongside a ghost from the past.
The bath became a quiet sanctuary, an hour carved out of time just for him, where he could let his thoughts drift, uninterrupted. He didn’t rush—he never did when it came to these baths. When the water had finally cooled and the candles had burned lower, he climbed out, wrapping himself in a thick, fluffy towel before slipping into his softest, most well-loved pair of pajamas.
The small rituals continued as he moved through his apartment—he poured a glass of water to balance the wine, grabbed his sandwich from earlier, and settled back onto the couch. This time, he turned on How I Met Your Mother, the familiar theme song lifting his mood instantly. He laughed softly at the episode playing, though it was one he’d seen countless times before.
Biting into his sandwich, Remus felt a strange but welcome peace settle over him. Between the warm bath, the good food, and the quiet comfort of his evening, he could finally let himself breathe deeply—content, grateful, and just a little bit excited for whatever came next.
A few episodes later and his dinner completely gone, he forced himself to stand up and walk towards the dishes. He obviously did not own a dishwasher, he thought they were overly expensive for something he could do himself and being one person he rarely had much to wash anyway.
That’s why he’d usually let the dishes pile before actually doing them, today though he thought he might as well do them, seeing as he had extra time.
He pulled a chair beside the sink just in case he needed it, opened his phone and noticed he had a couple of unread messages from Lily, Remus quickly made note to answer them later.
Then open Spotify and played the episode of his favorite book podcast Tengo Opiniones. He laughed every so often, carefully scrubbing plates and mugs.
He had almost finished when his phone started ringing, turning left he saw the number was unknown, which was odd, given few people had his number. So drying his hands quickly on his pajama pants, he picked up the phone.
“Hello…who do you wish to speak to…Yes this is he…Police station?! Is everything okay?…Yes I can come down immediately but please tell me what’s going on… A car crash? I’m confused. Is everyone okay? Who was in the car crash?”
On the other side of the line the police officer slowly read three names. Three names that made Remus fall to the ground, his knees crashing against the floorboards. His left hand covered his mouth silencing his chocked screaming. Remus was sure the police officer kept talking but all he could hear was a deafening high pitch.