ghosting
Remus Lupin hates being a student advisor, but today he hates it that much more. He sits in the waiting room of McGonagall’s office, slouched in one of her uncomfortable armchairs, positively freaking the fuck out.
Remus had arrived at school a day prior to the beginning of school, much like everybody else, but probably a significant amount of extra weight on his shoulders than the rest of his peers.
////
His dad’s been drinking again.
He had been doing well, it had been almost two weeks since his last bender. He was looking for a job. A real job. Not some odd corner store clerk gig or picking up junk on the side of the road.
Remus walks into the living room of his parents apartment, his sneaker bumping a tall boy can across the stained carpet. He pauses, taking a deep breath to try to settle himself, but the thick smell of alcohol in the apartment only sets him more on edge. He wants to call through the apartment for his mom, but he doesn’t even know where his dad is at the moment. He glances over to his parents door, the one with the hole in it above the handle. It’s closed. Remus starts to move towards the closed door, knowing his mom is in there, until a noise through the kitchen causes him to snap his head up, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.
He laughs at himself internally. He really thought it was going to be different this time?
He's an idiot.
The door to the only bathroom in the apartment slams open, hitting a kitchen cabinet with a loud crack. Lyall Lupin stumbles out, wiping vomit from his lips with the sleeve of his unbuttoned flannel shirt. It takes Remus’ dad a moment before he notices his son standing in the living room, just in front of the front door. Remus had just gotten home from his last shift at Arthur’s, the corner store a few blocks away from the Lupins’ apartment, before the fall semester starts up at Hogwarts. Lyall just glances at him, barely an ounce of recognition flashes his influenced gaze before turning to the beat up refrigerator, pulling another tall boy out of the fridge. Remus grits his teeth.
“How many have you had, dad?” Remus says, clearing his throat, but not moving from his spot in front of the door. His dad looks up from the fridge, opening the can with his teeth and slamming the fridge shut behind him. Remus grinds his teeth together harder, repressing the flinch that builds up in his chest with some difficulty. Lyall starts taking slow steps through the small kitchen, inching closer to Remus. “And how, son, is that any of your business?”
Remus doesn’t reply.
“Hm?” His dad says, cocking his head to the side, his greasy blonde hair falling over his forehead. “I asked you a question, son.” Remus doesn’t know what to say, is the problem. Because no matter what he says, he’s going to get hurt. So, he strikes.
“Where’s mom?” And Lyall seethes.
He’s on him in a second, and Remus is immediately shoved into the front door behind him, his head smacking the wood with a dull thunk. Lyall has him pinned by the neck, breathing into his face. Remus does flinch now, the stench of vomit and cheap beer warming his face. Lyall is tall, but still falls short of Remus by an inch or so.
But he still makes Remus feel small.
“That is none of your fucking business.” His dad says, unrelenting in the grip around Remus’ throat. Luckily for him, Remus has become an expert at breathing around a vice grip on his windpipe. “You’ve got quite the nerve, ignoring my question to poke your nose where it don’t belong,” Lyall says, hitting the side of Remus’ scarred nose with the base of his beer can. “Now, I did ask you a question, didn’t I?” Remus is avoiding his gaze, turning his face away from his father as far as humanly possible, straining his neck to the side with difficulty. Growling, Lyall throws his tall boy into the wall beside them, instead grabbing Remus’ face and redirecting his gaze roughly to meet Lyall’s own, his dirty fingernails breaking the skin on Remus’ cheek. Remus breathes in as much as he can, enduring the stink of his father’s breath in order to survive. “Is it any of your business, Remus?” His dad repeats, looking into his son’s eyes that match the boy’s mother.
Remus closes his eyes for a moment, steeling himself. “No.” He replies to his father, whose throat releases a low growl, bringing his hand up to slap his son on the side of the head, Remus’ cheek colliding with the door with the force. “No, what?” he barks, and Remus purses his lips, earning him a shake from his father, who still grips his son’s neck with vigor.
“No, sir.” Remus replies hoarsely, the effect of the large hand around his neck starting to take it’s toll. “Good boy. I knew you had it in you.” Lyall replies, patting Remus’ cheek roughly as he releases the boy’s neck from his grip, red marks blooming as he lets go. Remus deflates a little, taking a large breath in, wheezing a little. Lyall turns away, going to collapse on the couch in front of the TV. “Get me another beer. And clean up my last one. You made me waste it.” He shouts at Remus from where he hasn’t moved.
Remus is tired. He gets his dad the beer and grabs a towel from the cabinet to mop the beer from the wall and carpet on his hands and knees.
His mom does not reappear that night, merely giving Remus a kiss on the cheek before he walks out the door with his bags, where the greyhound is waiting outside to take him to school.
///
It’s only been twenty-four hours since the run-in with his dad, and now he has to show a new student around the school who he–quite frankly– doesn’t give a fuck about. Student advising is just a requirement for scholarship students, and it just happens to be Remus’ unlucky day. He’s the only student assigned a new student. She’s a junior. A transfer, he supposes. He has little motivation to do more than the bare minimum today, and his voice is still incredibly hoarse. To avoid questions, he’s decided he will simply talk as little as possible. It’s then that the Headmistress’ office door opens, the woman’s head peeking out of the small opening. She doesn’t even have to say anything before Remus is hauling himself up, grabbing his bookbag in one swift movement and following McGonagall into her office behind her, ducking his head slightly at the low entrance. He meets the eyes of the girl he’s supposed to be letting trail behind him all week briefly, catching a glimpse of her yellow-green eyes. Despite his exhaustion, he does recognize she’s a pretty girl. Not that he really swings that way, anyway. She has long coppery hair that she’s obviously curled, and a pale, freckled complexion. She’s wearing a soft looking white knit sweater, the front of it tucked into a black skirt, black tights underneath, and some black Mary Janes on her feet. It reminds Remus of how badly he wants a smoke.
He hears McGonagall introducing them, and the girl sticks her hand out for him to shake. The last thing Remus wants to do is touch somebody right now, but he takes her hand briefly, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up for the second time in twenty-four hours. He removes his hand from her grasp quickly, and catches a slight frown run across Lily Evans’ face before disappearing, a kind smile replacing it.
Remus can’t wait to get this over with.
He almost feels bad, but doesn’t have the energy to push that from almost to actually feeling bad for the girl. He drops Lily off at her first class, briefly seeing Sirius and James in the back of the room before he makes his way to his own first period. He doesn’t pay attention in Algebra II Honors, instead finding a crack in the wall and carefully studying it, his eyes going in and out of focus, for fifty minutes until the bell rings. He hauls himself out of the second uncomfortable seating arrangement for the day, and if his professor calls his name on his way out of class, he doesn’t hear him. He makes his way back to the end of the corridor where Lily’s class is, pulling out a book and leaning against the stone wall. He sees the words on the pages but he’s not reading them.
In his peripheral he can see Lily approaching him from across the hall, and James Potter quickly diverting her attention to him, jumping in front of her and blocking her path to Remus with a clumsy grace that only James could pull off. He rolls his eyes, watching the two from over the cover of his book as James and Lily shake hands for a painful amount of time, neither of them pulling their hand away. It’s disgusting. Remus decides he’s had enough, shoving the book back into his bag and making his way to the two in a few short strides.
“-cause it’s only junior and senior high, of course.” He hears James saying before clearing his throat, causing it to throb just slightly. James jumps exclaiming something about Remus sneaking up on the two. Lily is still looking at James, who’s only sign of diverting his attention from her to Remus is his head turned to meet the tall boys’ eyes. Remus doesn’t want to be mean to James, and suppresses the urge to snap at his best friend and teammate as he explains that he has to take Lily to her next class, chemistry, waving his lanyard in front of James. James’ eyes obviously don’t catch the lanyard, and Remus immediately regrets even bringing attention to any space near his throat. He knows it’s bruised, even though he hasn’t looked in a mirror since the incident. He can feel the blood in his skin pulsating around the fingerprints on his neck. James meets Remus’ eyes, a question in them. Remus does his best to communicate to his best friend not to say anything. Not here, not now. James seems to catch on, a grin washing over his features quickly as he turns back to Lily. Remus breathes a small sigh of relief as James tryings to get the girl’s number. Remus interrupts him, trying to get Lily and him away from James as fast as possible. He loves James, but he really doesn’t have the patience for his lovesick schemes right now. And he doesn’t really want to be late to his next class, whose professor will be less forgiving of his tardiness, student advisor or not.