forgive me father, @remlupus - Tumblr Blog

(m&r); old sport / 1920s

enchanted-effervescence:

Neon lights brought the city to life. The streets never dimmed, the bright sunlight being replaced with the artificial glow of marquee signs and the beams of streetcars. The fluorescent glow made the whole world seem more like a dream than reality. Mary became hypnotized the first night she stepped foot on Lenox Avenue. Even the dull pavement glistened. The neon signs seemed like a tunnel of lights out of the window in her taxi cab. The sight never lost its luster, even after many trips up the avenue. The cabbie glanced up to the rear view, catching her eye. “You meeting a lucky fella tonight doll?” Her harsh laugh filled the car as the cab pulled up to the curb. “Oh wouldn’t you like to know, bub.” Her words floated like bubbles despite their teasing intent. The man raised an eyebrow, but shook his head at her while she slipped him two folded bills. “Keep the change.” With a bat of her lashes she stepped out of the cab and into the party. THE COTTON CLUB. The double doors swung open, revealing the illustrious world that hid in plain sight. Immediately the club attacked her senses. Vibrant red velvet lined the club, while the girls wore dresses of every hue in attempt to best show off their features. The smell of liquor and cigarettes filled the air and the brass swing underscored what could only be equated to a scene in the pictures. Mary intended to fully immerse herself in the atmosphere. Her hips swung a bit to the beat as she headed straight for the bar. After all, the libations served as half the fun. Her tiny frame leaned against the bar a bit as she waited for a bartender. His attention quickly shifted from his talkative male customer to her. “What can I get ya little miss?” “Mary Pickford, be a doll and throw in a cherry for me.” Her usual Brooklyn accent all but disappeared. Her elbow rested on the bar top as her chin perched on her palm. Scarlet nail polish only brought more attention to her cherry red lips. The bartender blinked a moment, before nodding and turning around to make the drink. Mary ate up all the attention she got in clubs like this, only letting it escalate to a safe level. The high energy of the club, even when it lulled, starkly contrasted Mary’s day to day life. A Brooklynite muggle born, throwing into wizarding world of the city just as WWI began. The war was over before she had graduated, and her life felt mundane despite the magical influences. She had a job at the ministry, filling her days covering up the mistakes of others. Hardly noticeable at work, Mary fled the monotony through these muggle clubs. The air always felt lighter. She felt more alive with her little black dress swinging to the beat. Anonymous yet catching eyes: the perfect combination for her. The clink of a glass on the granite snapped her out of her daze. “First one’s on the house.” She grinned and happily accepted the drink with nothing more than a wink. She turned on the barstool, scoping out the crowd. Her eye was drawn toward the show near the back of the club. A burlesque dancer, no doubt. Girls tended to be the main attraction of the night, though aside from admiring skills they had little entertainment value for Mary. No, her kicks were found watching the watchers. Inspecting the crowd that sat back. A small spark of white light in the midst of red velvet drew her eye. Her stomach sunk a bit as soon as she identified the source. Hogwash. She mumbled to herself as she downed the rest of her drink quickly. The lipstick stained glass served as a placeholder at the bar. The source of light had been from magic, which turned out to be a ridiculous parlor trick. A bouquet of white roses appeared from thin air and the muggle girl who had been on the receiving end had not batted an eye to the trick. Mary doubted she would have noticed anything even if the gesture had been more grand, but that was neither here nor there. “Never off the clock….” Mary mumbled to herself hopping of her barstool. She made her way across the club. On her way she eyed the man behind the magic. The man was tall, dressed to the nines and sported a flirtatious smirk that most of the men lounging shared. He seemed particularly disinterested. Mary slowly walked up to the area where he sat, another woman sitting beside him. The poor thing seemed desperate for his attention, though from his body language she seemed more eye candy to him than entertainment. With a swing in her hips, she walked to the side of the love seat. Without a word she picked up the glass on the arm and sat herself down. Her legs weren’t particularly long but they still looked alluring draped over the edge of the arm. Lord knew she was still going to enjoy herself tonight, even if she had to mix a bit of business with pleasure. “You know that little trick of yours was cute and all but…” her fingers reached out and grazed his as she snatched the cigarette from him, “ya know you’re not supposed to be doing that so out in the open doll.” The last part she whispered close to him, before taking a drag. She turned her wrist toward him, offering him back the cigarette. “Or is nobody home?” She teased with a raised eyebrow.

It all happened in a blur. He caught her before she reached earshot; the sway in her hips capturing his senses. One moment she was crossing the floor, time slowing to a snail’s pace around her as his eyes paid their respects to her porcelain legs, and the next his cigarette was ripped from his lips. Reality slammed into him like a freight train. His head spun and his mouth all but hung open in surprise at her close proximity. Her words floated around him like the smoke of the cigarette, and he reminded himself to concentrate.

“My apologies miss, I must have had too much.” he offered slowly, his eyebrows relaxing from their confused pinch. He retrieved the cigarette eagerly, a good hit would clear his mind. White smoke filled his mouth, hot and angry. It swirled, fighting against his tongue for freedom. Remus’s shoulders coiled back as he pulled in a secondary breath of crisp air, cooling the smoke while pulling it deep into his lungs. His eyes nearly closed in ecstasy as he exhaled, the peace that the smoke brought him washed over his entire body and as he assumed cleared his blurry mind.

Feeling steadier now, he took the chance to gaze directly at her. Her eyebrow still sarcastically raised, and her bright red lips drawn back into a coy smile. Scarlet lips, like scarlet velvet. She reminded him of a child, the bright glow in her eyes telling him that she felt some sort of pleasure in calling him out. For what the consequences were he didn’t fully understand. However he wasn’t keen on playing dumb, and she wasn’t the first person to look down upon his party tricks.

“Cute?” he scoffed playfully. “Not feelin’ left out are we?” he teased, relaxing back into the loveseat once more. His free hand draped over the back of the lounge and curved across the shoulders of his almost forgotten company. The blue eyed woman perked up and returned his touch, resting her thin fingers against his chest. She shot a stale look to their new visitor, Remus was unsure if he appreciated the glance. He merely was teasing after all. He found the childlike woman interesting, which was rare. Unfortunately for someone who spends as much time in the company of women, it was seldom that they made him as curious as she.

The music’s tempo transitioned into a slow rhythm, soft and amorous. The melody weighed heavy upon the club, and he contemplated asking her to dance. To steal her away for some privacy, for she seemed to hold some sort of knowledge that he hoped to discover.

#[ p.old sport ]#[ m.macdonald ]#[ new york 1923 ]

#[ illustrative ]#//edits by m

(r&open); melancholy / sep. 13

The splintered walls of the Shrieking Shack looked as unsteady as they did every year. While examining it now from a distance Remus was reminded of the first moment he was introduced to the shabby little hut. It was Dumbledore’s idea, and although the lad will always trust the headmaster he couldn’t help but think that the wizard might have lost his marbles. From a young age he had done his research and knew well enough that although the shack may be able to withstand the power of an adolescent werewolf, by the time he reached maturity there was no way. Yet here it stood, six years later. Six years of trial and error. Six years of learning and self-training.

Remus let out a long exhale, shoving his fists into the thin pockets his trousers offered. A heavy musk of petrichor hung in the air, evidence of fresh rain and the welcoming of fall. Twigs and stray leaves lay scattered along the ground, the ejectamenta of a heavy rainstorm. Hogsmeade weekends were his favorite. Escaping the castle for a moment gave the lad time to think, time to be on his own. Despite its great size, Hogwarts offered very little personal time. This semester’s first full was slowly approaching and had his mind in all sorts of a twist.

#[ g.melancholy ]#[ seventh year ]#[ september 13th ]#lom.starter

(m&r); old sport / 1920s

Scarlet velvet coated the entire room. Velvet booths, velvet table cloths, soft threading stained with the scent of cigars and lavender perfume filled his mind all hours of the day. Remus often found himself dreaming of red velvet. His mind’s eye replayed that succulent moment, as the long velvet curtain of the stage drew back to reveal a delicate bare leg equipped with a sparkling heel; ready for the crowd. Velvet represented the greatest pleasures in life, and as he sank into the overstuffed loveseat located in the back corner of the club all recollection of anything other than red velvet escaped his mind.

The club held an elated vibe tonight, despite the low crowd. Nights like this were his particular favorite. When a man could simply exist in a crowd. A club loses its essence when overpopulated, but times like this allowed each guest to thrive both independently and intimately.

His shoulders curved back into the large cushion of the chair, relief coiling through his arms and down into his busy fingertips. A double pour of whisky rested in his right grasp, and as his body wed with the velvet the liquor stirred safely within its glass. His left hand searched blindly for a moment, his eyes directed to the stage at the head of the room, before softly grazing against the naked shoulder of the cerulean-eyed woman settled beside him. She didn’t seem to mind his absence of mind, but found comfort in his existence rather than his presence.

The company of women were always a given. Where there was velvet, there came women. Claiming that he rarely accepted the opportunities they brought would be a lie, however Remus often found solitude in the women. Never truly satisfied, but merely distracted.

“Lovely isn’t she?” the woman whispered softly beside him, probably in hope to strike up meaningless conversation. A small flag flashed in his head, altering him that he had missed something while captured in the trance of the woman on stage.

“Wha’– oh, yes. Choice bit of calico for sure.” he answered boldly. It was a stretch, saying such a thing in front of another woman, but frankly he didn’t give two shits. The blue-eyed woman only faltered slightly before pulling herself closer to him, marking some sort of label on him. Everything revolved around labels, and he enjoyed breaking them.

The sway of a tasseled dress fringe caught his eye. As the thin pieces of cloth ricocheted against one another, his eyes trailed to the slender wrist hanging down beside them. Expertly his left fingers snapped out to catch said wrist. “Miss, you seemed to have dropped something.” he recited quickly, stopping the beginnings of an objection. The girl in the tasseled dress fell victim of a wide smile as Remus flicked his wrist making a bundle of white roses appear out of thin air. A trick he had down to an art. Consider the label b r o k e n.

A small chuckle was shared between the two, and the woman retrieved her flowers bashfully before walking away. Feeling accomplished he sank back into the comforting velvet of the couch where the woman at his side sat boiling in her own jealously. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” was all he offered, patting her thigh halfheartedly before resting his glass upon the couch’s arm and drawing a fresh cigarette to his lips.

#[ p.old sport ]#[ m.macdonald ]#[ new york 1923 ]

remlupus

(r&j); disappearing act

remlupus

messr-james:

James quirked an eyebrow. “They do too. It’s like a… like clucking sound. Sometimes we make sheep noises. Similar to it, anyway.” He waved his hand, by passing the subject. He waited in anticipation as Remus flung open Peter trunk. He frowned a moment later. The quills were gone. That’s where he had put them… Peter must’ve found them first.

He laughed because this time they really had been stolen.

“Pete’s probably got them with him, mate.” And this was probably true since they had been on his trunk earlier that morning. James wasn’t thinking too hard about it though. He wanted to get on his broom and fly, but Quidditch wasn’t until later. He flopped down on his bed right as his owl tapped on the window. “Oh, buggar. You’ve got terrible timing, Bludgie.” He sulked over to the window and let the large bird in. He dropped a letter on the floor and dashed right back out. “Sodder never stays for long. To think I actually got treats for him this time.” He retrieved the letter off the floor and examined it. “It’s from me dad.” Not that he really thought it could be from anyone else.

James went back to his flopped position on his bed and ripped into the letter. “Says he’s doing alright. Mum’s flowers still haven’t died, that’s good. Though unbelievable. How do orchids last all summer and then some? Aren’t they winter plants anyway?”

Remus puffed slightly to himself, a tad miffed. He sat back and pulled his knees up parallel to his pectorals. The lad allowed his lanky arms to rest atop of his legs and reached his fingers out to unconsciously toy with the tail of Peter’s sloppily made bed sheets while focusing on the change in James’s demeanor.

Halfway into the summer Remus received a letter from Sirius explaining that he had been staying with the Potters due to being kicked out of Grimmald Place. At first Remus was eager to reply with many questions regarding James’s well being, but Sirius pressured him not to waste any time. So, with best wishes from his parents, Remus set off to join the boys at Godric’s Hollow. Peter arrived a few days following; designating that summer to be the first summer all four boys were together.

James had yet to receive owls from his father, and although none of them voiced it the lads had been awaiting this moment. Remus listened closely as James halfheartedly summarized the letter.

“Actually, they’ve got a nickname to them...” he stretched his lanky limps to a full, grunting a tad like an old man as he stood. “The immortal flower.”

Remus dusted off his trousers and crossed the room lazily to James. “Bet it’ll offer your dad a bit of hope, yea? Them survivin’ so long.” He said, patting the lad on the shoulder. It was a movement he had picked up from his own father.

Despite being dubbed as one of the more sensitive boys out of the Marauders, Remus hardly knew what to say during moments like this. (Again, like his father. A man of few words.)

However, a distraction he could manage. His specialty.

“Ay’, mate –– wh’ya say we skip Potions today?” he called softly as he turned toward the large window across the dorm. The early morning sun’s bright glow could be seen upon the wooden rooftops of Hogsmeade. “Go for a flight?”

#[ p.disappeaing act ]#[ j.potter ]#[ seventh year ]

lilydearx-blog

Wolfsbane||Lily&Remus

remlupus

lilydearx:

The look on his face startled her, to say the least. She had seen Remus ruffled, exasperated, even angry, but the panic that had settled deep into his skin took her off guard and simply solidified her determination to get him some help. Aconite wasn’t supposed to affect the skin the way it was Remus’ and there were very few exceptions.

She practically had to run to keep up with him, holding onto him tightly so he wouldn’t forget about her in his rush and leave her behind. Remus was still harried as he made one silent decision after another and she was quickly trying to remember anything from her books that would help the violent rash that steadily grew more vibrant against Remus’ skin.

To make matters worse, his body was warmer than it usually was, and Lily felt she was a fair judge of that given how often she spent jumping on top of the boy or burrowing into him on a sofa. He was naturally warm, but this was different, she could feel his heartbeat throbbing and his skin pulsed with fever. If he kept running about the corridors with her in tow, she didn’t like to think of the consequences, and the miserable attempt she’d be making to get his unconscious body up multiple flights of stairs.

“Remus,” She said when they finally slowed, tugging on his hand so he would look down at her, “Remus, you need to breathe, you need to calm down, l’right?” Her free hand grabbed at his shoulder to steady him. “Breathe.”

His pace faltered as they reached the empty bastion of the castle. Everything seemed in a blur, and Lily’s presence faded in and out as the pain in his wrist fluctuated. Relax– right. I can do that. A burning sensation ignited in his viens, like fireworks bursting into the air. SHIT.

Remus’s uninjured hand ripped from Lily’s and clung to his currently on fire wrist and squeezed; hoping to release some of the pressure by cutting off the blood flow, and also to semi-distract himself with a different source of discomfort. His hazel eyes rushed over the blistering mark created from the interaction with the wolfsbane plant. It seemed as though no major difference had taken place in the past short moments. It seemed possible that it was beginning to heal?

At an early age Remus began using a trial and error tactic in order to execute the many myths and rumors regarding lycanthropy. He learned through experiences that most were silly myths. However, there was a small sense of truth regarding werewolves’ sensitivity with the metal silver – frankly the texture of the element sent shivers down the lad’s spine. But that could just as easily be categorized under his odd quirks ( like preferring to dog-ear the pages of his books verses using a bookmark, and his preference of wool-knitted socks. )

One myth that was oddly proven to be a reality was a werewolf’s ability to heal at extremely heightened rates. Though this ability was proven factual by Remus during the early years of his transitions ( back when he resorted to body-harming in order to restrain from busting out of the Shrieking Shack and going off on a wild rampage ) , it was only prominent during the week of the full. During the Gibbous phase ( Waning or Waxing ) Remus often underwent a variety of odd or out-of-body experiences, and as he slowed his movement to a halt while inspecting the wound it looked as if before his eyes the festering burn across his hand and wrist began to heal. A thin layer of skin formed across the apical surface of the abrasion, taking away a large sum of the irritation and blisters.

His light hazels fluttered in surprise, taking at least six or seven double-takes at his wound. His own skin just healed itself. What. the. fuck.

“I think I’m an alien.” he whispered softly.

#[ p.wolfsbane ]#[ l.evans ]#[ fifth year ]

likeawilderland-deactivated2017

anticipation | dorcas & remus

remlupus

likeawilderland:

There was a certain comfort in solitude. Perhaps being a product of life as an only child, Dorcas found merit in her own company. Quiet brought simplicity of her thoughts, allowing them to settle rather than escalate. In her mind’s eye she could create whole cities, claim whole castles for herself. She would sit, imagining the very one she would later claim. She imagined what the stone walls would feel like under her fingertips, she thought of immersing herself in the world of her father and making it her own. In the early morning or late hours, it nearly felt like that. She could entertain the thought for a bit, she could even find it exhilarating. Ultimately, though, Dorcas always came around to the same truth. Though she could be alone without much of an issue, though she could find her peace in a quiet moment, it was always better when it was shared with someone.

Lucky for her she had surrounded herself with people who were just as good of company as she found herself to be. There was one particularly suited for the quiet moments. For sunrises and late nights trying to catch shooting stars and learn the name of each which still stayed in place. She managed to keep two feet on the ground though they really hung over the side of a stone wall, she managed to accept just how infinite the universe was and not at all feel forgotten. A summer was a long way away from the Astronomy Tower, though she never truly appreciated how much she missed it until she was there.

The movement of another caused her grin to warm like the sky, she left any kinship down with the pink and blue hues when Remus set beside her - her smile erupted. She still moved with all the time taking in such a sight granted her, no hasty pushing her hair from her face or frantic hand movements, Dorcas could instead paint a tie-dye sky with slow moving fingers, she didn’t need to pounce on him at first sight. Instead an almost lazy ( though she possessed no such bone in her body ) hand moved to weave her arm through his.

❝ Something like that. Those birds get a pretty stella view too. ❞

Teeth clamping down on her lower lip, Dorcas turned back to the horizon and took a deep breath, she nodded as if she had sought out her own confirmation. Any thoughts of her own sleep had long since been shaken away but she was curious as to how her note had found him. ❝ Were you already up? ❞

The smoky glow the sunset caused upon the Great Lake caught Remus’s attention and he found himself taking minuscule movements as he pressed his shoulder lightly against her’s. His smile tugged upon the corners of his lips and reached up to touch his cheekbones. Anticipating for this reunion motivated his mind to create an artificial reality, but never had he pictured the feeling he was experiencing. The saturated hue of the sky, the crisp breeze that kissed his skin; that was all there, but he had forgotten to imagine the sense of contentment that was currently radiating in his chest. This moment had far surpassed his expectations.

“D’at they do.” was all he could manage, his mind distracted. It was all relevant, why Remus enjoyed sunsets and books, why he couldn’t recall his dreams once he awoke, and why he thrived while within Dorcas’s presence. Dorcas thrived off of adventure, and so did Remus. It was odd that he had never noticed before, and he absentmindedly offered himself a little chuckle.

He must have looked a little silly, laughing at himself. Quietly he cleared his throat and reverted his thoughts to the present.

“Somewhat. I um– ‘ad a bad dream.” he answered sheepishly, glancing over to Dorcas with a coy grin. “Involved ‘eadless people, I believe.” Remus shook his head slightly at himself like he had before directly after the dream. The dream’s theme seemed silly to him now, despite sending his heart into a rapid pace at the time.

“D’at note av yers practically attacked me, y’know?!” he blurted out as the memory hit him, his body jumping slightly with excitement.

#[ p.anticipation ]#[ d.meadowes ]#[ seventh year ]

Remus Lupin –– Mood Board #001: General Demeanor

#[ illustrative ]

remlupus

(r&j); disappearing act

remlupus

messr-james:

James watched in amusement as Remus walked slowly across the room towards the other beds. He looked more like a wolf here than he did on most full moons. “C’mon, boy.” James teased, crouched down to look under Sirius’ bed. “Get it. Find it.” It was a ruse they pulled often with Remus, teasing him about his condition. Because to them it wasn’t debilitating and it didn’t make him any less of a person.

“You’re so concerned about these quills that you’re actually going to be late for class.” They were just sitting on Peter’s trunk though. It wasn’t like in third year, where he actually hid something on top of Remus’ four poster bed. In fact, James wouldn’t be surprised if it was still up there. Though he couldn’t remember what the object had been that time.

The Marauders were a special group of friends. They were known for pulling pranks and creating chaos around the school but there was more to it than that. They knew everything about each other. There weren’t any secrets - that they knew of, of course. Someone could keep a secret if they wanted to, but as far as James went there wasn’t any. They were the first people to know about anything going on with him. They were the first people to find out when his mum had passed, because there were no other people he thought of besides them. They were basically brothers. They fought all the time and laughed even more than that. It was a sort of unconditional love, where you hate the person but you also kind of adore them. Siblings.

Remus rolled his eyes slowly at James’s teasing. It was a familiar verse James and his other dorm-mates had sung far too many times. By now Remus had learned to take it as a sort of ‘term of endearment’.

“Y’ bettah be lucky that deer don’t make any noise.” he retorted, crouching towards Peter’s trunk. Remus imagined Sirius standing beside him, correcting his statement by making up some random and highly embarrassing noise to go along with James’s choice of Animagi –––– “M’ahhhaa!” Sirius called out in a nasaly voice, his nose crinkling and his tongue poking out as he strained for the correct tone. For a moment he wished that Sirius were present to do just that, but then, on second thought, maybe not. Sirius may be capable of only making matters worse; not just for James but Remus too.

“It’s just g’me stuck. This a l w a y s happens.” he quickly revealed the trunk of it’s lid, a deep breath building in his chest as he prepared to sound out in triumph–– but instead found the trunk empty aside from wrinkled robes and dress shirts. Remus tilted his head to the side slightly in confusion. “I don’t get it.” he sighed, disappointed.

#[ p.disappeaing act ]#[ j.potter ]#[ seventh year ]

likeawilderland-deactivated2017

anticipation | dorcas & remus

remlupus

likeawilderland:

The night before had proved to be an event. The youngest member of her adopted McKinnon kin had been sorted into a non-Gryffindor house ( now known as ‘sodding Ravenclaw’ ) leaving Dorcas with the duty - no, the privilege - of soothing Marlene’s anxious mind. Coaxing her to sleep with an idly hand through her hair it guaranteed that by the time she woke up the next morning her friend would still be slumbering soundly beside her. Two beds between those two girls would seem to be a luxury. One almost always was left neglected through the year as they generally preferred to stay close to one another. It was with Marlene’s toes tucked under her calves that Dorcas’ eyes opened to the day.

Well, just about the day.

No por mucho madrugar amanece más temprano, her tired mother used to say to the excitable child. Waking up early won’t make the sun rise any sooner. In most cases a proverb meant to force one to accept the unpredictably of the world. Some things could not be controlled. In the particular case of one Dorcas Meadowes, the meaning was much more literal. She was most decidedly a morning person - forever eager to be what seemed to be the only person on the planet who welcomed the sun as eagerly as she did an old friend. The sun could takes its time, she would tell her mother, but she would still be waiting.

The light blue hue was as invigorating as beams of sunlight poking through the velvet curtains of the girls dormitory. Within moments she was out of bed, hastily and haphazardly throwing on her robes while her wand directed a quill towards some parchment. Her movements were coordinated enough that no one was disturbed in the whirlwind of a girl who blew through, the collective breath of the Gryffindor seventh years was left slow and steady. Soon she was snatching the parchment from the air and hopping down the steps two at a time.

No, there would hardly be anyone willing to interrupt their last seconds of summer sleep in order for a welcoming of the new day. No one but one in particular.

No por mucho madrugar amanece más temprano, she had written to Remus. She had spent enough sunrises and sunsets with him to believe he would understand - no view was better for the sun than the astronomy tower and no one could appreciate such a sight. Another enchantment sent it up the boys dorm - a hand delivery was a bit beyond her capacity at the moment. Knowing it would land somewhere on his face, she darted out.

When there was somewhere to go, merely walking never suited Dorcas. She sprinted.

The cool blue was beginning to warm as she reached the top step of the Astronomy Tower. Though she smiled to no on in particular, it felt contagious. It felt chronic. She found her usual spot just where she had left it, climbing up to a ledge she could dangle her legs over. In anticipation for his hoped for arrival, she brushed debris which seemed to have been blown onto Remus’ spot over the course of the summer. He would be allowed the luxury of sleep if he chose it but if he wished she and the sun would be waiting.

Remus could recall very few memories of dreams. In fact it felt as if he hardly ever dreamed, and even when he did he usually began to forget important details within moments of awakening. So he steered away from mentioning the dreamworld. It was no fun trying to explain something you could hardly remember. Yet, despite his efforts of keeping off the subject, Remus always found himself sitting in awe as he listened to the elaborate fantasies his dorm-mates could create in their sleep. Normally he wished that he could share the same feeling, but not today.

As he startled awake he realized that this experience with dreaming was not what he had anticipated. Remus shook his head hastily, trying to erase the dark images that seemed to stain his subconscious, and focused on collecting his breathing. His green eyes examined their peripherals; discovering the other Marauders to be sleeping soundlessly in their respectful beds. Slowly he began to relax. No sign of the faceless figure from his nightmare, or headless corpses. The coast was clear. It was all just a dream.

A small chuckle betrayed him, falling off his lips as a slight scoff and slowly developing into a full bundle of laughter. He began laughing at himself; feeling foolish for allowing his mind to take advantage of him in such a way. Weren’t nightmares supposed to be reserved for children afraid of the dark and monsters under their beds? He was practically an adult and shouldn’t allow his mind to get preoccupied with nonsensical things. Remus subsided his laughing, but a small smirk remained as he settled back into his bed. He silently drew the covers up over his shoulders and pulled his pillow close, preparing himself to fall back into slumber.

Moments passed and his eyes tightened, he promised himself not to open them. If he could manage some sense of patience he would be asleep soon enough; all he needed to do was wait. That was until a slender shimmer of light began to creep into the boy’s dorm room. As the sun began to rise outside the window, a subtle cerulean hue captured the room. With his eyes betraying him, Remus peaked awake just as a single piece of parchment cascaded across the dimly lit room and collided directly with Remus.

“Wha’ tae?” he muttered in an excited whisper while trying to retain the charmed parchment from leaving a nasty paper cut across his nose. The lad wrestled with the note for a moment before the charm slowly began to fade and the paper returned to its normal, non-moving, state.

No por mucho madrugar amanece más temprano, it read in hasty handwriting once he turned it over. Remus focused in on the words as the very rusty and tired cogs in his brain began to turn. He was not very talented with Spanish, but had a relatively developed foundation in French. The lad recognized enough of the phrase to gather that each word’s literal meaning was irrelevant. It was a proverb. Although he was only about seventy percent sure what it meant, he was certain of its source. Denying any further wasted time he quickly gathered to his feet and crossed over to his trunk, searching for the proper missing pieces to his wardrobe and began throwing on items and worrying about adjusting them later.

As he raced out the dormitory he found his laughter slowly returning. The moments when Remus allowed himself to let go and for his body to react freely like this (laughs, snorts, groans and all) were by far underrated, but in this moment he couldn’t feel more boastful. Dorcas would be waiting for him at the Astronomy Tower, their usual spot, when he arrived. She would welcome him in and they would chat and she would listen. Interactions with Dorcas were by far some of Remus’s favorites. They were simple and yet so detailed, and she always managed to keep him on his toes.

As he conquered the last steps of the spiraling staircase that lead to the large radius of the Astonomy Tower he saw her. Dorcas sat patiently waiting, her legs kicking slightly as they dangled over the edge of the castle’s highest peak. He didn’t speak as he approached her, but without the intention of a mischievous vendetta, but instead to take in the moment. It had been an entire summer since the duo had gotten this opportunity, and as the sun began to touch against the cold stone of the castle Remus couldn’t imagine a better reunion.

His steps drew to a soft stop as he reached her side and he carefully took his designated seat beside her. The sun’s coloration reminded him of sweets, cotton candy, or bubblegum. Their height an advantage to see over the entire Great Lake. Remus made a mental note to remember the sight.

“How’da taye say it, ‘Early birds ge’tae worm?’” he asked with a knowing and elated grin.

#[ p.anticipation ]#[ d.meadowes ]#[ seventh year ]

remlupus

(r&j); disappearing act

remlupus

messr-james:

James sniggered to himself, his back was to Remus as he gathered his things for class. It was his own little private tradition. Every year when left alone for the first time in the dorm room, James would switch around some of the stuff that the other boys swore they weren’t going to miss place this year. Sirius’ motorcycle manual, Peter’s broom kit, Remus’ quill bag. Seven years and they had yet to suspect anything. He thought he should maybe feel bad, because the only person they really got mad at was themselves for losing it. But it was too funny watching them look for forever and then find their possession in someone else’s things and getting peeved that they stole from them to be honest about the situation.

Perhaps this year he would spill that particular secret in a hardy game of Senseless. It was their last year, after all. It’s not like he would ever really do it again.

This particular thought made James sour. He didn’t like to think of school ending. That dorm room and those hallways were the best. The future was wide open ahead of them, but he didn’t want to leave. He wanted them all to stay there. Not just the boys though. All of them. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was a sentimental bloke.

Remus’ angry voice drew him from his thoughts and he went over to where his friend was flipped upside down. He got on his knees and looked under the bed. “Don’t see any quills under here, mate.” James squinted through the dust and grime under the bed. Reaching his hand under there, he pulled out a sock that could have only fit an eleven year old Remus. He blinked and looked up at his friend. His face was a mixture of fear and sadness. “Do you think they ever clean in here?”

Remus sulked to himself. This seemed to happen every year, and always to him. It didn’t help that this year he wanted to get a headstart on assignments to clear time for his individual studies of potions and languages. Something that Remus enjoyed indulging in separate from his friends. Sirius could never take it seriously when Remus would practice his French in front of him. People like Dorcas seemed to have a much more respect or his interest in the language.

“Shite. Every’fins goin’ arseways, Prongs.” he huffed, his limbs loosing their life and falling limp in exasperation. Remus took the moment to stare down at the ground, analyzing the multiple particles of dust and dirt he could make out. “Er, tae way it looks– no.”

A bit put off he slowly craned himself back up and sat crossed legged on the bed. Though the hunt was far from over. The lad paused for a moment and wrung his hangs, thinking hard. Last year when he had lost his Herbology book he found it in Peter’s trunk, and the year before that his ties under Sirius’s desk.

Like a retriever on a scent trail Remus slowly stepped off the bed and allowed his imagination to lead him across the room to his mate’s beds. “Th’r here somewhere.” he whispered to himself, hot on the case.

#[ p.disappeaing act ]#[ j.potter ]#[ seventh year ]

lilydearx-blog

Wolfsbane||Lily&Remus

remlupus

lilydearx:

It had been a relatively quiet Potions class. Slughorn had them poking around with Aconite, poisonous when ingested but otherwise fairly harmless. He wasn’t even pacing the class in the anxious manner he usually did, lingering at the head of the classroom and thumbing through a leaflet of some sort. His own apparent lack of interest in the subject didn’t help the mood of the class, and Lily found she was paying more attention to those around her than she was to copying down the effects of Aconite if handled improperly.

Her eyes swept over the group, finding she took care not to take too much notice of the Slytherins in the class. Normally she didn’t mind sharing the class with them, but one obsidian gaze always found her without fail and she hated the mixed twinge of disgust and then guilt. She would be firm in her decision, but some habits were harder to shake than others.

Lily found that Remus was an excellent distraction from Severus’ attempts to catch her eye. He was so careful, with long slender hands delicately handling the ingredients of the potion, the Aconite placed carefully away from the rest to the side. He was always so focused in class, sinking into the atmosphere of class, or at least she thought. She jumped when Remus suddenly jerked, jostling his desk in his rush, hand clutching at a redness that crept rapidly up his wrist to his forearm.

She watched, oblivious to Mary asking to borrow the notes she’d just jotted down, as Remus approached Slughorn and rapidly excused himself. Within seconds of him rushing out, Lily was up and gathering up Slughorn’s attention, his broad smile and warm greeting lost on her as she started talking-a lot of nonsense, really, she was always such a terrible liar-and telling Slughorn all about the recent trouble she’d been having with migraines and how she felt one coming on that instant and preferred not to be in a class surrounded by students, should she take away from their own learning time by being in immense pain. The entire time, Slughorn smiled and she knew she was talking far too fast for him to really follow anything she was saying to him. Finally, she simply gestured at the door, “Please, may I go?” and he seemed to understand that her ruffled distress was genuine and he nodded hurriedly, practically shoving her out the door and promising to send her dear friend-lord she hoped he meant Mary-with notes from the rest of class.

Bursting out of the classroom, Lily took a wild guess and bolted down the corridor, leading her up and out of the dungeons, pausing only to listen in hopes of finding Remus’ path. He’d been acting increasingly strange and this was merely the icing on the cake. Minutes later, she practically ran into him as they crossed paths, the rash on his arm still angry and climbing. Lily caught him by his unaffected elbow and pulled him to a stop.

“You should go to the infirmary with that, Remus, why are you blundering about the corridors?”

Remus didn’t particularly know where he was headed, but he could feel that he didn’t have much time. As the redness created by the aconitum plant began to spread, a fierce flame erupted in his veins and pushed its way throughout his wrist and slender fingers. His skin was melting off, he was sure of it. He would eventually look down and there would be nothing left but the skeleton of where his palm used to be. The pain practically knocked the wind out of him and for a moment he staggered, his shoulder colliding into the stone wall of the corridor. He had to keep moving. People were beginning to notice; stray students wandering out and about. Too many eyes. His thoughts flashed forward a mile a minute, and his head swam in the pain. If he could just keep on his feet for a moment longer, he knew a place.

During the creation of the Marauders’ map, Remus provided knowledge of secret corridors and passageways he had discovered during his early years at Hogwarts. It had been a while since he was able to set off into the night for an insomnia motivated adventure due to Filch’s awareness of his friendship with Sirius and James – two of the gentleman’s biggest targets, but he still remembered most of the way.

Keep your feet moving, don’t look down, only ahead, don’t––– A quick blur of copper curled around Remus’s face. Before he could fully register the moment he was twirled around on his heel and clumsily halted in place. Lily.

“Wu’? No. Ay–” he stumbled, out of breath and taken by surprise. A very flustered and concerned Lily Evans pulled Remus close, and tenderly began to lecture him. He knew what she was saying, but he wasn’t capable of listening. He perched up on his toes, though he didn’t really need to Lily was hardly as tall as his collarbone, and looked over her auburn head.

“Tae infirmary, ya’. Ay’ know, but Lily.” Remus began thinking of ways to reason with her, ways to plead for her to let him go alone this one time. It felt wrong, and he was at least ninety percent sure she would decline either way. His stomach clenched as a sharp pain crippled his left hand, and frantically he dropped his efforts.

“Okay, okay.” he groaned out, growing breathless as the sharp pain began to turn into a sharp throbbing. Unable to muster anything else he gripped her hand and sprinted off down a back hallway towards the Transfiguration corridor. Off to the North-West of the castle there was an empty bastion where they could take sanctuary.

#[ p.wolfsbane ]#[ l.evans ]#[ fifth year ]

(r&j); disappearing act

Expecting for it to be possible that this year, please lords, his dorm-mates would accomplish keeping their things in line would be an overshot. Deep down Remus knew this and so he never really struggled to get his hopes up, but there was still a part of him holding on to hope. Little did he know that merely three days into the school year his little corner of the dormitory would be susceptible to his friends’ lack of cleanliness. While preparing for class he had to play hopscotch with at least three different piles of clothing (all of which had no possible way of being dirty unless the boys decided to change outfits four times a day), got his foot tangled in the thick comforter that looked as if it was trying to escape off of Peter’s bed, nearly face-planted tripping over Sirius’s trunk, and now he was frantically searching for his quill bag. “Aye swear it wha here.” he muttered, his tongue thick against the roof of his mouth as he hung upside down off his mattress. Remus struggled to pull back the bed skirt with his left hand, while keeping gravity from betraying him and sending his face to the wooden floor with his right. A jumble of grunts and noises of concentration sounded out from him as he cautiously shimmied closer to the edge of the bed in order to get a better look.

“James, com' see!” a shrill of frustration called across the room, hoping to catch the last Marauder left in the dorm before he swept out the door and on to class. Remus knew that their time was limited, and the other lads had already left. He recalled Sirius saying something along the lines of, “Have fun writing your assignments in blood, Moons” as he walked out the door. “Whaur th' heel ur they?!” he hissed.

#[ p.disappeaing act ]#[ j.potter ]#[ seventh year ]

thephoenix-hq

REMUS LUPIN is SEVENTEEN and a HALFBLOOD. He represents GRYFFINDOR as a PREFECT, along with the DUELING and SLUG CLUB. FACE CLAIM: Andrew Garfield PORTRAYED BY: Mercedes (she/they), CST BIOGRAPHY

Lyall and Hope Lupin had always dreamed of a perfect family. They weren’t very wealthy, but they were very fortunate. They had each other, and were fulfilling their passions. Lyall was a moderately successful man working for the Ministry of Magic and, Hope a stay at home mom with a passion for painting. In late 1959 Lyall was offered a promotion to work shifts in a different department of the Ministry. Doubling up on shifts working with Non-Human Spirituous Apparitions as well as working with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures granted Lyall double his current income. This offered the opportunity for the young couple to begin planning for their first child. On the rainy night of March 10th, 1960, a sandy-haired baby boy was born. The birth of Remus John Lupin brought along an entirely new meaning of the word “family.” Raising Remus seemed easy enough; he always used his manners, never broke anything out of spite, and kept his hands to himself. A light shined within Remus at a very early age. Hope and Lyall cooed over their spectacular son, and although they did not live a materialistic lifestyle Remus reminded them they had everything they had ever wanted. However, the Lupin’s feared that his lack of interaction with other children would somehow stunt his development. That is where Jax came in. Jax, a fifteen pound terrier mix, was hand picked by a four year old Remus and quickly became acquainted with the family’s way of life. Remus and Jax were practically connected at the hip, and it was Remus’s responsibility, as her rightful owner, for he was the only member of the family that she really listened to, (despite Lyall’s attempts) to look after her. One night Jax went missing around dinner time. The family lived on a small plantation in Southern England, very much surrounded by vegetation, so it was not out of character for the dog to run off exploring. However, after many hours and the come of nightfall Jax had still not returned. Remus respected his responsibilities as her caretaker and sought off into the chill of a cold November night to look for her. This night became one of the most defining memories in Remus’s life. Being interpreted as hunting game by Fenrir Greyback cost the boy the normalcy he had always known, as well as almost costing him his life. As Remus aged, and his lycanthrophy developed, schooling seemed out of the question. His parents were heartbroken to keep their boy in hiding, but they expected that they had no other choice. Until they met Albus Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore, always having something up his sleeve, visited the Lupins in their small log cabin home and personally invited Remus to attended Hogwarts. This day became the most defining moment in his life. Attending school was a big leap for Remus, and he felt very brave taking on something that his parents never expected him to accomplish. They had never limited him before. Lyall and Hope always talked to him as if he were an adult and not a child, and this allowed him to develop a strong since of maturity. Yet, taking on the task of leaving home at the age of eleven made him feel very much adolescent. These nerves didn’t stick around long however. As Remus began to gain friends, he also began to gain some confidence for himself. So far his years at Hogwarts have flown by, and he has no doubt enjoyed every minute of it. Hogwarts and his friends have definitely influenced him alot, brought him out of his comfort zone and then rewritten it for him. Remus looks forward to getting a job at the Ministry like his father. He knows that his condition is expected to hold him back but deep down he wants to find a way around that. This year he devotes him time to potions, secretly looking for a perfected version of Damocles’s wolfsbane potion.

REMUS IS CURRENTLY TAKEN.

#[ bio. ]

abloatedtoad

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