@starstruck4moony @marlenemckinn @withrewings @confunded-gryffindor - we’re the Missing Cat Poster club now? (also @purplechimera8 for making me post this) I got carried away with it but it’s also the only thing I’ve really written in the past four days, so hey, writers block.
Remus Lupin’s schedule is tightly regimented. On Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays he goes to the coffee shop on the corner to work through his copy with a vague change of scenery. He leaves the house mid-morning on an otherwise indistinct Thursday and strolled down the street, vaguely appreciating the sudden appearance of the warmer weather that negated his need for a jacket.
At the corner, whilst fielding a few texts from his editor and best friend Dorcas, Remus sees a tall man with thick-rimmed glasses affixing a poster to the lamppost, an incredibly pregnant woman with deep red hair beside him, a soft smile on her face. Her hand is on his arm and it strikes Remus with startling affection so that he has to look away. Probably for some part-time band with a gig at the local pub, he thinks. With a shrug, and a shocking ability to ignore everything that isn’t directly related to him, Remus starts down to the coffee shop, already thinking of that paragraph on page 73 that needs an entire redo.
Late afternoon when Remus retraces his steps, messenger bag over his shoulder and not much further along in his work, he stops at the lamppost.
Missing (1) One Fucking Pest of a Cat
The little bastard doesn’t answer to anything but we love and miss him so if you see him, you could try baiting him with tuna but he’s a fucking mastermind so good luck with that.
Mister, if you see this you’re in so much trouble you better come home right now. Daddy is mad but he loves you.
There’s a phone number and a photograph of possibly the most frightening looking cat Remus has ever seen. It’s a huge, grey-ish tabby with yellow eyes, and it’s meowing at the camera with a look that says I have seen Hell, human, you cannot scare me.
Remus laughs a little at the photograph, but he has to admit he feels a little sorry for the owner of the cat. He might not be an animal person himself - too much responsibility - but he remembers when Dorcas’ wife Marlene lost her dog for a whole of three hours, and both of them were beside themselves until they had been reunited. (Pickles had ran off to follow a French Bulldog he’d taken a fancy to, apparently.)
Remus decides he’ll keep an eye out for this terrifying Hell-Cat - if only out of a sense of self-preservation - and tries to peer dutifully into all the hedgerows and bushes on the way home. The next morning on the way to the coffee shop it’s all but forgotten about, though, the Missing poster just an additive to his usual backdrop now.
It’s maybe six weeks later that Remus is walking back from the coffee shop - gleeful because his edits are finally done - and sees the poster is still there. Out of curiosity Remus pulls out his phone and texts the number on the bottom.
Remus: hey, you ever find your cat mate?
Unknown: yeah!!! the little bastard is back home! we all missed him so much! Snuffles the most, obv!!
The reply is almost instantaneous. It’s accompanied by a picture, and Remus has to blink a few times to fathom out exactly what it is he’s looking at. He realises then that it’s the Hell-Cat from the photograph, along with another, equally fluffy, ginger and white cat. They’re laying on the person taking the photograph, and the man seems to have his head resting on the belly of an enormous black dog (although Remus is pretty sure it must be a sodding wolf at that size), and there’s another dog licking the mans cheek. But Christ on a bike the man is gorgeous too. He’s grinning in the photograph, the corners of his eyes crinkling, the setting sunlight casting warmth across a bone structure that frankly should be illegal.
Remus: Glad to hear he’s back!! Kept seeing the posters around. Snuffles is the ginger cat?
Remus doesn’t know why he’s replying, beyond the fact that this man is exceedingly handsome and Remus thinks he might even be happy that the Hell-Cat is back home. He throws his bag down by the door and treads into the kitchen, trying not to watch his phone for a reply.
Unknown: nah Snuffles is the Newfoundland, the big black dog. they are best friends!
Remus: you named your massive dog Snuffles?
Unknown: great name isn’t it?
Remus doesn’t quite know what to reply as he puts the kettle on and retrieves a mug from the cupboard, but another reply comes.
Unknown: you got any pets?
Remus: nah. they all yours?
Unknown: yup, cant resist a rescue. and besides, you cant pass judgement on my naming skills when you dont have any yourself. maybe Snuffles is a standard name for a dog, like you’d know ;)
Remus: well, I am a member of the weird name club myself
Christ, Remus thinks as he sits down with his tea, one photograph of a man with disgustingly good hair and you’re here telling him your life story, Lupin? But he wants to keep talking. This man is kind of funny, and Dorcas has been harping on at him to get out of the house for more than just a walk to the coffee shop and back - Mrs. Figg makes a mean latte but she’s far from riveting company.
Unknown: no way, I’m the same. awful family tradition. what’s your weird name?
Remus: Hippie parents more like. I’m Remus, wbu?
Unknown: Sirius, like the star.
Remus: oh, maybe Snuffles isnt such a bad name then ;)
It’s followed by another picture message of the man - Sirius - and the black dog. Sirius is pouting, his arm thrown around the dogs neck, and even the dog somehow manages to look a little upset that Remus has insulted his name. But Sirius is even more bloody gorgeous and Remus’ heartbeat picks up. Remus laughs, it’s ridiculous, it’s absurd, he’s finally lost his mind. But he replies, because he can’t leave Sirius hanging.
Remus: sorry to you and Snuffles.
Unknown: proof of you being apologetic, please. Snuffles wont accept it until we see a repentant looking face :P (selfie will suffice)
Remus shakes his head and stares at his phone for a moment in disbelief. Fuck it, what has he got to lose? He ruffles a hand through his hair and adjusts his glasses before bringing his phone up and snapping a quick selfie of him looking as apologetic as possible. He sends it off before he can second guess himself and throws his phone onto the coffee table in some bid to distract himself from the fact he’s just sent a photograph of his face to a gorgeous looking stranger with a menagerie of anthropomorphic beasts. There’s no reply for long enough for Remus to utterly regret his decision.
Unknown: … jfc. Snuffles accepts your apology, but has told me I’ll be unable to until you agree to meet me for coffee.
No way. He gapes at the phone, thinking of all the ways this could be construed. But so far his brain only comes up with one way, and it’s the most obvious - Sirius wants to meet him for coffee (Christ, at least he’s literal, the sarcastic little creature in Remus’ chest says - maybe he does have a pet after all).
Remus: yeah, alright. Coffee sounds good.
Unknown: tomorrow, Bear Coffee at the end of Nicolson Avenue, 1pm?
Remus: yeah, see you then Sirius.
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