Chapter Text
🌿📱 Chapter 3 – Waking 📱🌿
With a sigh, Remus Lupin let his Switch drop onto his chest before exhaling sharply and shoving it aside. The console landed on the bedspread with a muted thud, the screen still glowing faintly with the Animal Crossing title screen. He squinted up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his phone pressing into his sternum.
Lazily, he picked it up, holding it above his face, thumb sliding over the lock screen as he brought it to his ear. Sirius picked up immediately.
“—and honestly, Moony, I think it’s highly suspicious that Isabelle won’t admit she’s secretly been plotting a takeover of the entire island.” Sirius’ voice rang through loud and clear, like he’d never stopped talking.
Remus let out a tired laugh, rubbing his eyes as he rolled over. “She’s literally the island representative, Sirius. She’s supposed to be in charge.”
“In charge of what?” Sirius huffed dramatically. “Making everyone miserable with her overly-enthusiastic speeches?”
Remus groaned softly. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m just saying, the way she practically shoves me into the museum every time I see her—like, just let me live my life, you know?”
Remus paused for a moment, staring blankly at his desk. “You know, if you don’t like it, you could always go hang out with Barold again.”
There was a pause. “You’re not gonna let me live that down, are you?”
Remus grinned, even though he felt like he might pass out from exhaustion at any moment. “Nope.”
Remus groaned, rolling onto his side, letting his phone rest against his cheek as he pushed himself up. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching out the stiffness from yet another all-nighter spent playing with Sirius.
His room, illuminated by the late-morning light, was a dusty disaster zone. Piles of books stacked haphazardly on his desk, their covers blurred by a fine layer of neglect. A few balled-up socks sat in the corner near the laundry basket (which, notably, they had not made it into). His nightstand was littered with crumpled chocolate wrappers, a half-drunk glass of water, and the remains of an abandoned essay, scribbled unusually uncaringly.
And dust. Dust on the shelves, dust on the dresser, dust coating the forgotten model train on the windowsill.
He hadn't bothered to clean since coming home from boarding school.
He scowled slightly as his eyes landed on the cane leaning against his desk. Stupid thing. His mother had insisted he keep it nearby, but it just sat there, an unwelcome reminder that he didn’t need.
He kicked it. Lightly. Just enough to send it clattering onto the floor.
“I still can’t believe you sent Raymond a letter calling him a ‘capitalist pawn,’” he muttered, toeing the fallen cane aside as he paced toward the window.
“Because he is, Moony.” Sirius sounded far too proud of himself. “Someone had to say it. You know he thinks he’s better than us.”
Remus snorted, pulling back his curtains slightly to squint outside. The days were starting to get warmer. Spring was creeping in, thawing the last remnants of winter, sending pale green buds onto the trees. He could hear birds chirping somewhere outside, the air soft with the first real breath of spring.
It made him feel... restless.
He turned, trudging back to his bed before flinging himself onto it unceremoniously. His phone, still against his ear, nearly slipped from his grasp.
“Sirius,” he said suddenly, out of nowhere, “my mum thinks I shouldn’t sleep in so much.”
Sirius made a noise of absolute disdain. “Okay, but when you stay up all night, when else are you supposed to sleep?”
Remus huffed a small laugh, then muttered, “She also thinks I should go outside more. Move.”
A pause.
A noticeably awkward silence.
Remus stared up at the ceiling, waiting.
Then, Sirius’ voice, dead serious:
“Have you told her that you went to the beach and even caught an Oarfish though?”
There was another pause. Then—
they both burst out laughing.