Friends Beyond The Past
Remus groggily awoke to the sound of Regulus coming back home. He could hear him and Lily talking quietly for a bit before the front door shut again, and silence fell. His door creaked open, and he cracked open an eye to see Regulus’ form backlit and shadowy.
He knew he wouldn’t ask. Lily had undoubtedly told him what happened, but Remus knew he wouldn’t demand an explanation. He never did. It was an unspoken agreement, forged after Regulus snapped at Remus for asking about his family, and Remus refusing to explain why he’d had a panic attack after getting a paper cut.
Instead, the two looked at each other, Remus waiting and Regulus assessing. After a long moment of silence, Regulus turned and left. Remus let his eyes close again, and listened to the sound of tea being put on. Regulus was the only one allowed to make tea in the apartment. He always complained that Remus did it wrong.
Europeans.
A little while later, and a steaming cup of herbal tea was presented to his face. With a grunt, Remus sat up and accepted the offering.
“It’s chamomile.” Regulus said quietly. “It’ll help you sleep.”
“Nothing a bat to the head can’t do.”
“As amusing as that would be,” came the hummed response. “you can’t afford to lose any more brain cells.”
“Low blow, Malfoy.” Remus cracked a smile. Regulus’ mouth twitched. “How was the shit probe thing?”
“Stizprobe, you twat. It went…well.”
Remus squinted at him. “Doesn’t sound like it.”
“It did. Seeing the actors was just surprising.”
“You’ve been playing along to their voices for months, though.”
“Seeing them, Lupin.”
“Why?”
Regulus frowned down at his tea.
“Nothing. It’s all starting to become real, I suppose. Things are falling into place.”
Remus nodded, and drained the rest of his cup.
“I know what you mean.”
Regulus plucked the cup from him and stood up.
“Sleep.” He commanded. “I expect my breakfast in the morning.”
“Yes sir.” Remus huffed a laugh. “I’ll expect my coffee.”
He was asleep before Regulus even left the room.
——
Remus coordinated with Marlene, Dorcas and Lily to hang out after work that evening when he knew Regulus was free. That morning, he woke up as usual to his alarm and coffee, cooked breakfast as demanded by his roommate, and dressed for work. He had the afternoon shift at Sanguini’s, which left him a few hours to stop by the Clay Cat to check out the studio McGonagall offered him.
He was very pointedly not thinking about Sirius Black or what happened last night. It was a cruel twist of irony that the moment his future starts, someone from his past crops up, but Remus refused to allow himself to be distracted.
New York City was huge—the odds of ever seeing that face again was almost impossible. He could only hope Sirius didn’t try to come back to Sanguini’s— Pilsner and Lager, who he could only assume were Peter and James—were more sensible, and could hopefully convince him not to go.
Luckily, there was no way he got recognized at Sanguini’s. The dim lighting plus the face mask, plus the fact that Remus had grown and slimmed a considerable amount since their high school days, meant there were no identifying features to see. No one from high school saw him after The Incident, so if Sirius had seen the few scars that sat above the mask, he wouldn’t know them to be Remus’. He was also sure, had Sirius recognized him, he would’ve said something. He’d always been blunt like that.
Remus couldn’t believe he didn’t recognize his old friends sooner. The light was dim, yes, but in hindsight it was painfully clear who they were. He’d even admired Sirius when asked to make a deduction about him. He grimaced at the thought.
It wasn’t until he was standing in front of the Clay Cat did Remus realize he was doing the very thing he swore he wouldn’t. Sirius Black always weeding his way into his mind, even when he wasn’t trying to.
Huffing, Remus firmly shoved the dark haired boy from his mind, greeted Molly, and wandered upstairs to the rented out studio spaces. The spiral staircases made him dizzy to climb, and his legs burned by the time he reached the top floor. He swung open the door to the Studio and sucked in a sharp breath.
It was beautiful. The once-rooftop greenhouse had been converted into a well-loved art space. The ceiling and every wall except the one connecting to the building was glass, in which light floored the entire room. Worktables with a few random tools and abandoned projects sat strewn about. Paint spattered the concrete floor, and there were various mannequins and other objects for modeling shoved in a corner with easels and stools. Remus spied the dumbwaiter McGonagall mentioned on the back wall, as well as an industrial sink.
A part of him couldn’t believe this was his life. Working in a studio like this, all day, was all he ever wanted to do. He dumped his bag on one of the worktables, pulled out his sketchbook, and started to think.
——
Sanguini’s in the daytime was quieter and slower. Remus usually manned the bar alone during the day shift. More of the talkative regulars were in, all who knew Remus and would happily chat with him while they ate and drank.
Turn to Lily’s word, Slughorn didn’t seem to care about his fit the other night, and spent most of his time at one of the booths, schmoozing some guy in a fancy suit. Perfectly fine with Remus, of course. He wanted to pretend last night never happened. And if he kept snapping his head up every time the door opened, dreading to see dark hair or a leather jacket—well, that was no one’s business but his.
Thankfully, his shift went undisturbed—until the very end of it. Remus was clocking out just as the Prewetts took over for the night. Just as he pushed past the staff only doors, the club’s entrance chimed open. Remus caught Sirius Black wandering in, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his leather coat, alone. He ducked into the back, nearly braining himself on the door frame just as silvery eyes drifted his way.
Remus hurried to grab his things and escape out the alley before Sirius started asking questions and the Prewetts gave answers. Thankfully, he was able to speed walk to the subway without any run ins.
He was sure Sirius didn’t mean any harm—he’d probably stopped by the apologize to the poor bartender he’d freaked out. But Remus knew how he got around Sirius Black—he was like a magnet, pulling him in without really trying, and Remus letting himself get dragged. If he spoke to Sirius again, the magnet would start pulling. If he let that happen, Remus ran the risk of disrupting the small slice of peace he’d built in New York, as well as dredging up a past he did not want to remember.
Marlene, Dorcas, and Lily were already at the apartment when Remus arrived. They were laughing about something with Regulus, who’s laugh was actually a slight smile on his face. They’d already opened a bottle of wine, and something delicious was cooking in the oven. The girls shouted greetings at him—Regulus gestured to another glass of wine waiting for him.
Remus felt the anxiety of Sirius Black leave him, and he eagerly joined his friends. Dorcas was recounting a funny story about one of the kids at the Clay Cat while Lily got control of the bluetooth radio to play David Bowie. Marlene got up every ten minutes to check on dinner, while Remus and Regulus simply sat back and listened.
They preferred listening and watching to talking and entertaining. Remus supposed that was why they liked the girls so much. He knew Regulus also had a few friends from the conservatory who were a bit on the wild side. Both of them had their moments, but mostly they preferred laying low.
Marlene had made her famous baked ziti with garlic bread, and Remus’ empty stomach growled as they dished out plates. It had been so long since he’d had home cooking that wasn’t his own. Marlene’s family were Italian, and she had mastered noodles and sauce in ways Remus couldn’t dream of. The ziti had handmade noodles and sauce and almost made him want to cry. The bread was from Marlene’s mother, who ran a bakery with her husband in Lower Manhattan. Paired with whatever red wine her dad undoubtedly chose, it was the best thing Remus had eaten in a while.
“You are a miracle worker, McKinnon.” Lily said through stuffed cheeks.
“All thanks to my great-grandmama.” Marlene said proudly. “That lady was a culinary genius.” She wiped her plate clean with bread, taking a chomp before pointing it at Remus. “Alright, Lupin. Tell us what happened with McGonagall.”
Remus gave them the run down, filling them in on the MoMA opportunity and the free space and materials given to him. As he spoke, the reality of the situation seemed to hit him. It was actually happening.
Of course, Dorcas and Lily let out small shrieks and Marlene hollered in celebration. Regulus very quietly congratulated him.
“Remus! That’s amazing!” Lily squealed, grabbing his hands and bouncing up and down. “A piece at the MoMA! Ooh, do you think they’ll have a gala for it? God, that would be so cool.”
“Well, I have to be selected by the curator first—“
“The Minerva McGonagall basically guaranteed you a spot!” Marlene punched his shoulder. “Dude, that’s awesome! What are you gonna make?”
“Who is Minerva McGonagall?” Regulus asked cluelessly.
“She’s one of the most famous sculptors in the world right now,” Dorcas explained, beaming at Remus. “she single-handled brought a new age of classical to the contemporary. She’s basically credited for an entire art movement!”
Judging by Regulus’ face, Remus figured he only cared to understand ‘famous’. The world of art confused him just as much as music confused Remus.
“Do you have any ideas yet, Remus?” Marlene asked again as Lily rushed off to the kitchen to open another bottle of celebratory wine. He shook his head.
“Just sketches. Nothing’s struck me yet. I only have six months, and McGonagall said the curator was looking for something big. Larger than anything I’ve done before.”
“Well, that’s because our workspace is small.” Dorcas reasoned. “You’ve got a whole studio now! And unlimited access to the Houses. You and your brilliant brain will think of something spectacular.”
Lily refilled their glasses, and raised her’s.
“A toast! To our lovely Remus, and getting a piece in the MoMA!”
“Hear, hear!” Marlene and Dorcas shouted heartily. Regulus raised his with a small smile, and Remus couldn’t help the grin that crept its way onto his face.
Why care about the whereabouts of Sirius Black or his old friends when he had better ones right in front of him? It had been seven years. None of them had power over him. Remus was moving on with better people.