Remus’ terse greeting immediately caught Sirius’ attention, despite only having woken up ten minutes ago. Of course, he’s set his priorities straight: he had a mug of hot coffee in one hand as he puttered around the kitchen, looking for a spoon to stir his drink. Sirius’ hair was all over the place, and he was still donning his pyjamas when Remus had returned.
His head pokes out of the kitchen, the curiosity on his face morphing into worry upon seeing Remus’ tense posture. “What is it?” He didn’t give Remus time to respond, though, because Sirius was already making his way towards the werewolf, his frown deepening at the newspaper in his hand, peering over it.
Mass breakout. Death Eaters at large. Feeling his stomach lurch as he perused the article, Sirius let out a shaky breath, feeling more awake than he had been these past few minutes. “Bloody hell.” He said finally, the gravity of the situation dawning on him. “Merlin, this is a right mess,” he mumbled mostly to himself, taking a sip of his coffee to ground himself, but he can’t seem to stop reading the title over and over again. “Well, this certainly isn’t a great way to start the morning. Heard anything from the others?”
Remus took a step towards the other wizard, leaning in his direction as the other man read over his shoulder. Glancing to his side, his eyes traced over his friend’s expression, watching with interest as he glanced over the dark words. He shook his head, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He didn’t have to wonder what would be going through the other man’s mind.
“I haven’t yet—” He handed the other man the copy of the Prophet, walking towards the kitchen as he spoke. “I came here first.” Moving towards the pot of coffee, he picked up his empty mug from where it sat on the counter.
“I’m guessing Dumbledore will be holding a meting soon.” The werewolf continued, his hands absentmindedly tracing over the ceramic handle. “I don’t know how it happened. No one-” He exhaled, his breath uneven. “No one has been able to break out of Azkaban before." He filled his mug with coffee and took a deep sip, looking for a distraction as he finally turned back around to face his friend. “If they’ve been able to do it once, what’s stopping them from doing it again?”
Dated: August 9th, 1985
Location: London; Remus and Sirius’ flat
@sriusblvcks
Remus apparated with a crack, the noise echoing down the hall in the narrow entrance to their flat. He waved his hand to remove the protection charm at the door before twisting the handle and pushing it open.
"Padfoot-” Remus called, shutting the door behind him. His shoulders were stiff, voice earnest as he continued. “Sirius, you need to see this.”
The werewolf’s knuckles were white where he grasped onto a copy of the Daily Prophet. He hadn’t heard the report that was streaming on the Wizard Wireless Network earlier that morning, instead glancing at the headline on his way to the store. All thoughts of groceries and the breakfast he had planned to make for the pair disappeared from his mind as soon as his eyes had scanned the dark words staining the front page: Mass Breakout at Azkaban.
“There are at least seven.” He continued, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown as he read over the article. “Maybe more.” The werewolf recognized some of the names: a few of them, they had come to know more intimately over the years, having come to face to face with the figures in dark masks. He wondered how long it would be until Dumbledore reached out to the Order and called a meeting.
matthew hitt, twenty-five, cis male, he/his + i just saw remus lupin down at diagon alley. apparently they’re a bookseller these days, who knew? guess it makes sense, they were always pretty resilient & loyal. i wonder how their secretive & self-loathing behaviours have been treating them during the war. where do you suppose a half-blood like them stands, anyway? with the order of the phoenix, i bet. they always make me think of messy hair, ink-stains on fingertips, and bruised knuckles hanging onto the sleeve of a wool sweater.
For as long as Remus can remember, he’s lived a double life. He’s no stranger to secrets, and has been fighting a war inside himself for a lot longer than the one that’s raging outside their doors.
Bitten by Fenrir Greyback at the age of four, he quickly learned to live life within the confines of four walls. In an effort to conceals condition, his family moved more times than he could remember from the wild Irish countryside to the cool Welsh coast, all of these changes making the young werewolf more independent, curious, and achingly lonely. As a child, Remus was taken to countless healers and medicine men and women from across the globe, all filled with empty promises that did little but cost the family everything they had and leave their son with physical and mental scars that would last a lifetime.
His life changed drastically when he met Albus Dumbledore, a man who introduced himself as a headmaster and welcomed him into the Wizarding community when no one else had before. At school, he wasn’t just given opportunity and education, but also friends that would quickly become family.
Remus is exceedingly clever and kind, with a quick-witted sense of humor. On the surface, he appears quiet and unobtrusive; patient and level-headed, moving through life cautiously and in carefully crafted layers. Few have managed to break down these barriers in the past, but those who have earn his unwavering loyalty.
Albus Dumbledore invited Remus to join the Order’s forces when he was eighteen, and accepting was a decision that came naturally to the werewolf. He fights to protect the people he has grown to know as family, and build a more accepting and open-minded world.
He prides himself on his work ethic, a stubborn habit that carried him through his time at school and the early years of the war unwaveringly. He refuses to give up and concede when things get difficult, and doesn’t allow his condition to define or limit him. In recent years, his desperation to prove himself and help the people he cares about has become more reckless, something that worries those closest to him. He continues to push himself too hard and too far, constantly balancing on a fine line and ignoring a rapidly approaching breaking point that looms in the distance.
The part of the war that he struggles with most is the fear of something happening to his friends when they’re out of his sight. At the beginning of the war, this was little more than a hesitant, quiet fear slipping into his thoughts when he lay on the edge of sleep, and easily excused by his friend’s firm and reassuring words— they would be okay, they would all be okay. However, after having to stand by and watch as this fear slowly became reality, it now feels more like an overwhelming current, the crippling sensation threatening to drown the wizard. The loss of Peter was a turning point for the wizard, only validating his worst fears. In the recent months, it has been increasingly difficult for the werewolf to justify all of the pain and heartache that he has had to witness. On nights when he knows that his friends are out on missions or performing various tasks for the Order, Remus is often unable to sleep, his anxiety keeping him up as his mind runs over all of the worst possible scenarios. Instead, he resorts to distractions to drown out these fears: some obvious, and others more hidden.
janainaart
theartofmadeline
gummygunk
pixelskylines
baratheonpilled
dailybridgerton
