30. Fake Relationship
“We need to establish a viable cover story,” Remus said. He was busy inspecting a portrait in the Black’s foyer, or making himself busy by inspecting the age-old painting of some Black family member. It was older than any heirloom he had from his own family, and probably worth a fortune. It was almost amusing to think that these were Sirius’ people, that he probably had a painting somewhere of him in this style, framed in gold spirals. Remus spent so much time in these houses and yet the differences between them and his own home never ceased to be stark and confronting. He wondered if he could ever be comfortable somewhere like this, even the social elites got their wish and he married high above his staton. It didn’t seem possible.
“Hm?” The voice came from across the hall, where Narcissa was choosing a coat for their outing; another wixen rights rally. It the third this month and Remus was starting to get nervous about Miss Black and himself being seen, or worse photographed, at one of the events. It wasn’t illegal to be wixen, nor to attend the rallies, but it would create the kind of charged gossip that would either end in marriage, or being rounded up. Remus wanted neither of those things.
“We need a cover story,” he repeated, turning to face her. She looked quite plain compared to her usual state of dress; a consequence of needing to blend in as they travelled the streets and stood near picketers. Remus felt that even dressed down, Narcissa outshone him and his already modest outfit seemed even plainer. “For why we’ll be seen in public together,” he continued, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “And why I keep appearing at your house.” His brow furrowed, smooth forehead wrinkling as dark eyebrows lowered. “Your mother will form the worst opinion of me and think me improper.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Narcissa mused, in that same tone that she had used when they had first discussed attending the wixen rallies. He still felt a little bamboozled by that conversation; he told himself that if he hadn’t offered to escort her to the rallies, she would have just gone by herself and gotten into trouble, but there was something about the way Narcissa spoke. She could talk even the most witty conversation partners in circles and Remus often had to work twice as hard to keep up. He was sure he held his own though. Well, mostly sure. “I know you’ll think of something, Mr Lupin,” Narcissa said. She had slipped her arms into a dark brown coat, held together at the front with large buttons. She looked quite the picture. “What excuse could we possibly have for being seen in public together so often? And without other company?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him as she pulled on her gloves.
Remus pressed his lips together. A suggestion was right at the edge of his mind… "I suppose,” he started carefully. “It couldn’t hurt to encourage, only if pressed, a rumour that we were in the early stage of courting?” He reached up to rub at the back of his neck, rocking back on the balls of his feet. “Nothing serious, of course. A harmless flirtation that never comes to fruition.” Remus thought he saw her smile, but if so she recovered quickly and pressed a delicate, gloved finger to her chin in thought. “Unless that offends you, of course,” he continued quickly.
“No indeed, I think you may have the correct idea in this,” Narcissa responded after a moment of thought. “Such a rumour might emerge in any case. It would be better to get ahead of it. It’s settled then.” She nodded her head, patted down her skirts, and then motioned minutely towards the door. “Ah, right!” Remus cleared his throat and jumped forward to open the door for her. “After you, Miss Black.” “Thank you, Mr Lupin.”