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Remus Lupin was running away.
Well, really, he was walking, fighting a losing battle with a broken umbrella that would flip inside out every time a particularly strong gust of wind hit him from the surrounding downpour. He was soaked to the bone and the leather suitcase he held tight in his other hand kept slipping down his sodden fingers, and he really didn’t think it would survive the fall, nor would the countless books inside it survive the puddles.
The entire situation wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t exactly have warning enough to check the forecast. Why he was running away was pressing heavily on the front of his mind. A bone-deep ache that pushed tears to his eyes, they were hot and irritating and he wanted desperately to wipe his eyes, but he didn’t have a hand and he couldn’t put the suitcase down for aforementioned reasons and-
Best stop thinking about it, else he really would cry.
He wasn’t quite sure of the time, it was dark outside with the streets lit dimly by a few fading streetlamps desperately in need of maintenance, and all he could hope was that there were still trains running. He would sit for hours and wait for the next train to who knows where, but if he sat there until morning, he might just start thinking and that couldn’t lead anywhere good.
The foggy light of the station up ahead was pulling him in like a beacon, strong and steady amidst the deluge and whipping leaves. He wondered briefly if there were toilets there that he could change in, but he wasn’t sure which clothes he had grabbed in his haste to leave, and he could deceive himself into a little optimism until he inevitably found out all he had was three unclean jumpers and the rain-soaked trousers clinging to his legs at the moment.
As he was brought closer by his now unconscious steps he saw a figure on the platform, not standing but sitting on the floor. That was all he could make out from his distance, and he said a silent prayer to a god that he no longer believed in that it wasn’t some drunk looking for a fight; they had a few like that sometimes, one of the odd hundred that lived in the town who had had the intoxicated epiphany that leaving was the only way too freedom, they often made it as far as the station before realising that hadn’t the cash or the will and gave up.
Remus thought that was how it went for most people in the village, it was a dead-end sort of place in east Yorkshire, the sort of place people never leave. He supposed that if every person you had ever met went to the same school and doctor’s office that you did, then it would be hard to fathom an existence beyond that. Every friend he had that wasn’t the son of a farmer, destined to inherit the land and care for its stocks, had dreams of going south, past the midlands and into the ‘promise lands’ of London and its bustling streets and glamourous sights.
Most of them ended up down the mines or left school at sixteen to have a baby or work the till at their mother’s shop. The mines were what really frightened Remus, his father had been a proud miner since the age of fifteen and was a man with black soot caked so deeply into the cracks of his labourer’s hands that no amount of soap or scrubbing could have gotten it out; Lyall had gone down into the tunnels one day and hadn’t come back up again.
They said it had been a collapse. Remus didn’t like to dwell on it.
So, he was leaving. All that had kept him there was his mother, without that restriction there was nothing. Well, there was Lily, but she was bound for something better, she would get out, one way or another. He had posted a letter through her door on his way past and he hoped that she wouldn’t find it until the morning, when he was long away.
He took a deep breath, standing still for a minute and letting it all wash over him before pushing his way through the peeling green turnstile and onto the platform, where he was met with the same person from before.
The first thing Remus noticed was that they were not from around here, too sharp and angular, lacking the innate tiredness that seemed to linger on the faces of every local to the land. At first, he had thought it was a woman, perhaps it was the eyeliner (that was steadily dripping down a set of fine-cut cheekbones) or maybe the satin of their shirt, but at a close look Remus realised it was not a woman but instead the most beautiful man he had ever seen.
There were finger shaped marks lining the column of his neck and his eyes were closed, highlighting a deep black bruise set into the ring of his left eye. He looked like the saddest soul Remus had ever encountered.
“Are you okay?” his voice was deafening in the solitude, beating off the awning above louder than the rain. The stranger’s eyes blinked open, as if disorientated and fixed upon Remus and his shivering body.
“Oh,” was all he said before closing his eyes again and slumping back into himself, a hand playing absentmindedly with a loose thread on his trousers.
Remus stood there a little longer, watching the stillness of the boy, because he couldn’t be more than a year or two older than himself, and feeling himself becoming more and more curious as to the nature of him presence, though he didn’t speak again, simply went to sit on the lonesome bench of the platform.
And there he sat, for what could have been an hour or a few minutes, time meaningless in the lapse of the night and the closed company of his stranger. No trains came and his thoughts were beginning to intrude, veiling his peripheral like moth eaten wool, thick and imposing.
“Where am I?” It took a second for him to realise it was the boy speaking, perhaps it was the deep richness of the voice or just the nature of the moment.
“Yorkshire,” That earned him a seemingly surprised exhale and he let his curiosity overcome him “did you catch the wrong train or something?” his voice sounded gruff and harsh in comparison to the affected accent of the other boy.
“No, I just hadn’t expected to make it so far,” Remus waited a minute for him to elaborate but when he realised an explanation was not forthcoming, he sighed and bit the bullet.
“I hope it isn’t too forward of me to ask but what exactly are you doing here?”
“Being free, for the first time in my entire goddamn life,” he smiled a broken little smile to himself and flopped back on the concrete, Remus winced as the sight of his long hair falling into a puddle, but the boy started talking again before he could say anything.
“My father did this to me, and my mother did this one,” he pointed to the bruises on his face and neck respectively, “then they took all my things and threw them out the door onto the street and shut the door in my face. So, I got on a train, and I didn’t get off until I got here.”
“Christ, why’d they do that?” he was almost scared to ask.
The boy rose from the floor and poised himself on his arms between his spread legs, Remus struggled not to stare at the slender bones of his neck “Told them I liked kissing boys.”
He grinned and Remus shook himself out of the captivation of it, trying and failing to find words to respond to that with.
“Oh, and that I wouldn’t marry my cousin but that was sort of just the lead-up.”
“Your cousin?” He suddenly felt quite sick.
“First cousin,” Remus opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted, “I’m glad you can see the problem with that because apparently my family couldn’t. The bride can’t steal the family money if she’s also in the family.”
He was struck silence with the absurdity of the stranger’s story so instead of trying to respond he just gave a huff which he hoped conveyed his feelings on the matter.
“I’m Sirius by the way,” that did make Remus laugh, it was rare to hear an uncommon name here.
“Remus,” he offered and just as he extended his hand to Sirius there was a whistle, and the screaming lights of a train began to approach.
“Come on then, better to be on there than out here.” Sirius must have agreed because he hopped up from his spot on the concrete and wrapped a set of slender fingers around the handle of a bag Remus hadn’t even noticed.
They stepped into the harsh light of the train and followed the think corridor down the empty carriage to a set of seats with a table, sitting down and letting their bags claim the other two seats. There was a silence for a moment which Remus couldn’t decide whether it was uncomfortable or not.
Sirius was the one to end it.
“So, do you have a plan?”
Remus thought about that for a minute, just long enough to realise he most definitely didn’t before Sirius cleared his throat and brought him back to the moment. “No, I don’t.”
“Well then, neither do I, so between us I figure we need to come up with one.”
“I’m afraid I’m of no help there,” Sirius arched and eyebrow in question, “I’ve never left the town before, let alone Yorkshire. Haven’t got anyone to go to.”
Sirius looked about as shocked at that as Remus had been at the whole cousin fiasco, though he schooled his expression back into its quiet contemplation quite quickly.
“Where were you going then?”
“Actually, I sort of had the same idea you did, get on and ride until I fancied getting off,” Sirius started laughing then, a deep chuckle that swiftly became hysterical before breaking into sobs, he drew his knees up to his chest and cried in earnest.
On any other day, Remus would have tried to comfort the boy, though such things had never been his strongest quality; but right then, after everything, he felt the tears from earlier that he had supressed resurface and, he too, began to cry.
It would have seemed a very odd sight indeed, two boys, one lanky and awkward and the other beautiful and bruised crying at each other over the breaker of the table, both soaked through and in an incomprehensible state of devastation.
Neither of them spokes or tried to comfort the other, an unspoken agreement passed between fleeting eye contact to let it happen, that it was okay just at the moment. And so, until they both calmed down, they sat and wept for very different reasons that really weren’t so different at all.
“What happened to you then?” Sirius finally asked, and Remus really did think about shooting the question down but there was a safety in Sirius’ company, and he was so tired of keeping it all in that he let go.
“My mum died,” he breathed out and so did his companion, letting that hang in the air for a while. “She’d been ill a while, years actually, my dad was killed in a mining accident a few years ago and I’m not sure she ever recovered from that. She didn’t eat and she didn’t sleep, so when she got poorly it weighed down on her like nothing else. I think, in the end, she just didn’t have enough left in her to keep going.”
He was thankful that Sirius didn’t offer an apology, or worse, his pity. He sat with his chin between his knees and nodded.
“Do you want to know the worst of it?” the beautiful boy hummed in assent, “I understand why she didn’t want to stay.”
He half expected Sirius to disagree with him, try and convince him he was good enough a reason, but he didn’t, and Remus was suddenly glad because he realised that wasn’t what he wanted. His newfound friend simply lifted one hand from where it rested on his leg and placed it, palm up, on the table in offering.
Greedily, he took it, feeling his own rough hand interlock with one that was softer, less worn, but just as equally hurt. They stayed in the following silence until they both fell asleep, Sirius against his bent legs and Remus with a cheek pressed to the chilling glass of the window. Neither of them let go.
o
When he next awoke, Remus found himself in the daylight, well not quite, it was dim but the sort of daylight darkness of being inside; he blinked a few times and looked out the window to see that they were indeed, at a station. A cursory glance the timetable board told him it was Manchester station.
He had to stop and breath, because he was actually out. Free from the threat of the mines and a meaningless existence, he felt like screaming, flailing about or something equally insane, but he settled for just falling back in his chair and staring blankly upwards.
He then thought about many things in very quick succession, like Lily and how she had probably opened the letter already, or his mother’s funeral that he wouldn’t be present for, he even thought about old Ms Pince down the library who he might never see again. He could bring himself to think of that as a shame.
Just as he felt the melancholy sinking back in, someone squeezed his hand. He lowered his head and looked across the table to where his hand was clasped tightly in that of a more slender grasp. He looked up and met the eyes of Sirius.
To boy was gazing blearily at him with the same confusion present on his face that Remus had felt just a few minutes ago.
“We’re in Manchester,” Sirius appeared to think about this for a while before nodding.
Though the train was stationary, at a final rest in the station Remus felt it best to get off before figuring out what their next steps should be, or a ticket collector came. They disentangled their hands, and he felt the loss keenly but distracted himself with collecting his meagre belongings and following Sirius onto the platform.
In the morning rush, it was hard to find a place to rest but they settled on a bench with a missing arm rest at the door to a café, where they bought two coffees that didn’t taste much like coffee at all. Sirius wound a foot around Remus’ leg, and he was glad for the touch.
Once the caffeine hit, he perked up a bit more, unfortunately making him twice as aware of him still damp clothes. He grimaced and shifted in his seat, trying to forget the feeling.
“So, I’ve done some thinking,” Sirius was fiddling with the lid of his cup, and he noticed the chipping nail polish on the other boy’s hand for the first time, a deep red that shimmered under the filtering light of the open-top roof.
“And?”
“When I first left my house, I was intending to go to my friend James’ house, that’s why I ended up on that train, but I remembered about four stops in that he’s in France on holiday.”
Remus wasn’t sure what help a friend in France was, but he let Sirius talk.
“He has the most wonderful parents, and they would have found somewhere for me, they’re those sorts of people. But I was so done with everything then that I gave up when I remembered they weren’t in the country and just let the train take me wherever it was going.”
“But now?” Remus asked, turning to him and finding those bright eyes once again.
“I want to go to him Remus,” he liked the way that Sirius said his name, almost a whisper, low and steady in his posh accent. Liked it so much in fact that he nearly forgot to register what he had said.
When he did think about it, it was insane, completely wild. In his entire life of dreaming Remus had never expected to leave his home county let alone the country. But now he found himself with nothing tying him down, and his freedom was intoxicating. So really, he didn’t have to think about it too much at all.
“Okay,” he said then clarified after a thought rushed into his head, “if you were asking me to come that is.”
The grin that spread across his companion’s face was unrivalled by anything Remus had seen, his stomach did a funny little dip, and he did his best to smile back without looking manic.
“Of course, I was asking you to come,” a hand hovered over his in question and without pause Remus flipped his palm over and wove their fingers together. “But can we maybe get changed first?”
They laughed, stomachs hurting and breaths gasping between giggles. Sirius’ eyes crinkled at the corners and his irises sparkled with mirth.
“Yes,” Remus gasped through his laughter, “or someone might think we’re beggars.”
As it turned out, the only place available was the toilets of the station which were a bit grotty but would have to do. He peeled off his jeans while Sirius washed his hair in the sink with shampoo from his bag, and Remus almost started crying again with relief when he found not one, but two pairs of trousers in his bag. They put their shoes under the hand dryer and stood in their boxers cackling like madmen when someone started pounding on the door.
Remus left that bathroom with two new realisations: the first being that he could not regret his decision to leave Yorkshire when it had led him here, and the second was that he was pretty sure he fancied Sirius.
Now, Remus had known he liked boys for a while. Apart from himself, only Lily knew this. Well, her and a boy called Gideon Prewitt who he had made out with when he was fifteen. Gideon had been in the year above him at school, he was a broad-shouldered type with rough hands which would one day work their family’s land. Remus had had a crush on him since they were children and truthfully Gideon was who made him realise, he was gay. They had made out behind the church after Sunday service, an event which Remus could not remember the before or after of.
Last he heard, Gideon had gotten a girl called Mary Macdonald pregnant and they had gotten married for their parent’s sake. He sincerely hoped they were happy.
They had decided against tickets, something Remus had disagreed with until Sirius pointed out they didn’t have enough for the ferry if they rode the trains lawfully. They would have to change three times which gave him some hope of not getting caught, but Sirius was concerned about the change at Euston. His entire goal had been to get away from London and, by extension, his parents.
Before boarding however, they directed their attention towards finding something to eat. Their choices were confined to the greasy looking café in the corner of the station but, despite the chewing gum under all the table and chairs, it wasn’t too bad. Remus had another coffee and scrambled eggs while Sirius had a sausage sandwich, grinning when the brown sauce would drip from the sides.
“Oh shit,” Sirius cursed, he turned to Remus with a hint of panic in his eyes.
“What?” He was apprehensive in his question; their feeble plans could be shattered so easily by something as simple a train conductor just passing by.
“Do you have a passport?” Remus cursed too and opened his bag on the nearest seat, frantically searching through unfolded clothes and loose toiletries, then his hand closed around the little book, and he held it up.
He flicked through the book just to check it was all still valid, grimacing at the picture of his younger, spottier, self. “We were supposed to go to Ireland when I was about thirteen, but my dad died before we could, this still looks valid though.”
“Why do you have it with you though?”
“Tried to take all the documents I have about me; I don’t plan on going back and I figured I might need some legal proof I exist at some point.” He reached back into the bag as if to prove this but when he pulled out the next piece of paper, it was a drawing of his family he had done at primary school, complete with a smiling sun in the corner and three circle-faced people. “And this I suppose.”
Sirius bent in half laughing and Remus could tell it wasn’t only for the drawing but for the relief, the tangible proof in his right hand, that they could make it there. So, he laughed too and when they sat down next to each other, and they watched the fields and trees fly past like a blended paint palette, Remus took his hand again; wondering where it could lead.
Part of him knew that Sirius probably wasn’t interested, he knew himself just how marvellous physical contact could feel when you were lonely, but part of him allowed the hope to spark. He honestly would be content with just holding Sirius’ hand, there was an electricity in the touch, a magnetism that drew him in and left him buzzing in the want of something more.
He used the distraction of the window that had captivated his companion to trace the angles of his face with his eyes, the high arch of his brow and cheeks and the point of his nose that was screaming wealth and power. But the confidence was present even in his resting face, in the tilt of his eyebrows and the set of his jaw.
Sirius had caught him staring, he was smiling at him softly and Remus mirrored the expression. A contentment filled the air and they looked away, Sirius back out the window and Remus to his bag, from which he pulled a copy of Kerouac’s on the road. After a while, a head dropped onto his shoulder, and he turned to find Sirius asleep with his black hair tickling Remus’ neck.
o
Once they had reached Euston, he woke the other boy up with a gentle shake and they paraded off the train into the clamour of the busy London station. Remus didn’t even have time to stare as he followed Sirius, weaving through the bodies of other commuters and down the steps to the underground.
Remus could not say that he liked the underground very much, he was filled with a feeling of claustrophobia upon entering the dimly lit carriage which did not abate when the train started moving. He clutched Sirius’ hand like a lifeline, holding their entwined palms to his chest and staring at his hazy reflection in the opposite window.
Then, “Sirius?”
They both turned to face a stricken looking, smaller version of Sirius. He had the same aristocratic features and could have passed for his twin in the right lighting, the only difference was the hair and the squarer set of the others jaw. Remus gawked.
“Reg? What the hell are you doing here?” The smaller boy’s face took on an almost pained look and he started like a fish out of water at Sirius.
“Sorry, who are you?” Remus asked, really only looking for a clarification on his assumptions.
“This is my brother, Regulus.” Sirius said, not taking his eyes off his sibling.
“Are you coming home?” Regulus sounded very small for how old he looked, Remus thought he couldn’t be much younger than he and Sirius from the looks of him, though he still had a hint of childish roundness to his cheeks and naive hope in his steely eyes.
“No Reg, I’m not,” Sirius had taken on a hardness to his voice that brokered no arguments, “and you can tell Mother and Father that I never will.” He did turn then, to stare blankly out the window at the cables and passing metal.
Remus felt sorry for the small boy, who was now standing aimlessly in front of his older brother and trying not to cry. He handed him a handkerchief that his mum had made from an old duvet with little red roses on it, and Regulus took it without even looking at what it was.
They got off at the next stop and Regulus didn’t follow.
He had wanted to intervene but hadn’t thought it was his place to, so he mouthed a ‘sorry’ to the boy as they passed him that he didn’t think was noticed, and they left.
Sirius remained in his sour mood until they had left the shadow of London, trading the sights of buildings reaching the clouds for sprawling fields and white sheep that took no notice of the rapid whoosh of the train as it passed.
Remus was cautious in asking his next question, sensing the tension rolling off of Sirius, “Why do you think he was there?”
“He was looking for me,” he did a little flick with his head to get his hair out his eyes before turning to Remus, “this isn’t the first time I’ve run away; he always comes looking for me. He found me in Hyde Park once when I was seven after my French teacher hit for now knowing my tenses. He got so ill from being out in the cold that he was in bed for a week.”
“But he loves our parents, and nothing I could say could ever make him see that what they were doing was wrong. He wasn’t built for the life they have set up for him, but he hasn’t got the courage to leave either. Sometimes I think he’s more trapped than I ever was.”
Remus turned awkwardly in the seat and wrapped his arms around Sirius, pretending not to notice how his shirt was getting wet and subtly looking away when they parted as Sirius wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
They talked for the rest of the journey about everything and nothing. Remus learned that Sirius went to a boarding school and that’s where he had met his friend James. His last name was Black, and he could speak four languages, two dead and the other being French, which would soon be very useful.
Remus told him about his mum and Lily and the library in town. He told him about his favourite books and in turn received a list of Sirius’ favourite films. They traded bits of knowledge and tales of mischief and detentions, of which Sirius had far more.
They changed again at Ashford and Sirius slept again on the ride down to Dover. When the sea finally came into view and, with it the while cliffs and squalling gulls. Remus watched the sun shimmering across the face of the sea and saw a speck-sized boat approaching the dock and he woke Sirius to show him. They smiled broadly at each other.
Sirius grumbled about the fee for the taxi to the port, but it was about a mile walk and Remus pointed out that they didn’t want to miss this ferry and have to wait some four hours or so for another. The waves crashing against the boat sounded like salvation.
It was a funny feeling, watching England fade into the distance behind them, slowly become less and less visible until there was only open sea and the sound of the waves. Sirius looked like he was having the time of his life, staring giddily at the seemingly infinite ocean around them.
Remus settled himself on his folded arms against the decks railing and stared openly at Sirius, feeling so many undefinable things at once.
“Sirius,” he murmured, half expecting his words to go unheard against the barrage of the salty winds, but Sirius turned to face him; and that was all he felt he needed, maybe a little more courage wouldn’t be so hard to find when this beautiful boy was staring at him so earnestly.
“Remus,” he said, it wasn’t a question, more a statement, or maybe just a reassurance.
“I like kissing boys too, you know” he watched the recognition of his own words dawn across Sirius’ face and he took a step closer.
A smooth hand found his jaw and he lent into the touch, “Do you now?” it was cheeky and teasing but Remus didn’t laugh, he just nodded and leaned forward.
They met in the middle, lips coming together almost painfully slowly, and Remus felt his arms wrap around Sirius’ middle on their own accord. Time seemed to change in that moment, either stopping completely or going so incredibly fast they couldn’t feel it, he didn’t really care enough to find out. They moved against each other with an ease that felt innate, slotting into each other’s arms like they had been made to do exactly that, and that alone.
When they broke apart, they rested on their connected foreheads and gazed, dazedly into the other’s eyes while catching their breath. It felt like magic.
o
They hadn’t let each other go yet; Sirius’ hand still held tightly in his as they sat on a worn-down bench trying to think of what their next step should be.
“I can’t see how we would get a taxi from here,”
Sirius snorted, “James’ family’s house is in Rouillac near Angoulême, which is about a seven-hour drive.” He was quick to add that explanation at Remus’ look of confusion, he felt very out of depth here. Back home he had always been smart, well-read for his age and knowledgeable beyond what would ever be necessary at what-ever job he went on to get.
Now, he felt a bit daft. He didn’t speak a word of French and most certainly didn’t know any places here aside from Paris. However, when he really thought about it, he didn’t mind. He was happy, at least for the moment, to let somebody else be the clever one, and be dragged along with whatever happened.
“We could hitch-hike I s’pose,” Sirius paused to consider this for a second, raking a hand through his wind-tangled hair, before nodding.
“Alright,” he stood and pulled Remus up by their joined hands and led them through the surrounding cars over to where all the disembarking lorries were. He leant up the side of one of the lorries and knocked on its driver-side window. “Salut, mon ami et moi besoin d’aller à Rouillac. Allez-vous dans cette direction?’
Remus hadn’t understood a word of it, but the driver of the lorry had, “Non, mais le chauffeur trois camions derriere moi se dirige vers Périgueux, si c’est une aide?”
“C’est, merci.” He hopped down from the door triumphantly and gave Remus a brief run-down of what had been said. Three lorries back and Sirius was up again, hanging precariously off the wingmirror of the massive vehicle. He spoke in his fast-paced French and Remus was lost again in translation, he simply focused on how nice the flowery language sounded from his mouth.
A few minutes later they were piling into the front of the lorry with the driver, who seemed rather pleasant from what Remus could gather but did not speak English. The truck spelled thickly of cigarette smoke, and he could see Sirius’ nose twitching at the violation beside him and he chuckled to himself.
Conversation didn’t exactly flow between the three, it could be divided into the occasional few sentences between Sirius and the driver that seemed to be him asking for the radio on or something small like that; and his own chats with Sirius, they let the topics find themselves and resumed the easy, effortless conversations from before, stilted only by the presence of another person.
Remus was paranoid that even though the driver couldn’t understand them, that he was listening in on them, but Sirius seemed unbothered, so he just ignored it. Back in Yorkshire, being gay wasn’t something that was spoken about, as if making the topic taboo would stop it from being an occurrence. Obviously, that didn’t work, Remus was proof of that.
He didn’t know much at all about France, but he knew that ideas about men liking other men were often negative, it was barely even legal in most places. He just hoped Sirius’ friend wasn’t going to beat him up for kissing him, that was if it happened again, which Remus sincerely hoped it would.
He wondered what would happen when they got to Rouillac, whether or not he would be welcomed was beyond him. Sirius may sing the praises of James’ parents like they were saints among men, but Remus didn’t like being a burden, or getting in the way. He had come this far though, there was no turning back now.
He tucked his gangly legs up on the seat and leant against Sirius, it was rapidly growing dark outside and the lights along the motorway were gleaming obscurely in his bleary vision. He closed his eyes and felt the tiredness of the day wash over him, pulling him into its grasp and into the warm blanket of sleep.
He had a nightmare, he wasn’t sure what it was about, remembering only a gaunt, sooty face and unintelligible cries of anguish. Remus didn’t often have nightmares, it seemed odd that one would plague him on such a day as today, but he knew that the subconscious didn’t bow to the wills of the waking mind.
He woke up with damp cheeks and not feeling very rested, he swiped his tears and checked the dashboard clock to find the time, it was nearly ten to eleven and the roads were pretty desolate outside the lorry. He looked at the passing road sign which bore the words Rouillac 15km and some other places Remus couldn’t pronounce.
He quickly shook Sirius awake and pointed at the sign, to which he responded with some more rapid words to the driver and something to himself, under his breath, which Remus didn’t catch.
The driver was kind enough to take a detour into the town with them and Sirius explained that the man was planning to find a place to stay for the night before completing his journey the following day. They thanked him profusely, but he wouldn’t take their offer of money, leaving them with a nod and a wave as he turned back for his truck.
Now desperate for something to eat and a real bed, they began the trek out of the town centre and in the direction of their final destination, Sirius swore it wasn’t that far but they both felt the exhaustion seeping into their bones as they turned their backs to the lights of civilisation.
The path to the finish line was charted across three fields of sunflowers, closed to the light of the full moon above them, and a wooden bridge over a glowing stream of cool water. Sirius took off his shoes (a pair of heeled boots which had probably been agony to wear for so long) and Remus suddenly found himself looking down a bit more to meet Sirius’ eyes, something he found rather funny, and Sirius pretended to sulk at.
They started running when the lights of the house, which was far too big to be classed as such, came into view at the bottom of the hill. Feet flying over the dewy ground and throats bellowing in deliverance and the sight of it.
At the door, they stood heaving and panting, bent at the middle and utterly joyous. Sirius knocked and Remus took his place at his side while they waited, he felt bad for the hour, but such feelings were quickly forgotten when the door was opened by a bespectacled boy who didn’t look like he had just woken up at all, aside from the uncontained hair on his head.
“Sirius?!” His companion all but threw himself at the boy who Remus thought must be James. “Jesus Christ, what on earth are you doing here?”
“James Potter watch your language,” Another voice spoke from inside the house and the two embracing friends parted and turned to face an older woman in a nightie and dressing gown, Sirius ran at her too and was closed into her arms in a hug Remus envied.
“Oi Sirius, who’s the fella?” all eyes fell on him, and he felt very out of place at the reunion going on before him.
Sirius came over and dragged him into the house, shutting the door behind him, “This is Remus, I met him at the train station in Yorkshire.”
James blinked, “Yorkshire? Why were you in Yorkshire?”
“Hush James, can’t you see the poor things are dead on their feet?” The kindly woman handed their bags off to a very confused looking James and smiled at him, “I’m Effie dear, now, will you be staying with us too?”
Remus didn’t know what to say, she seemed to be inviting him, but he couldn’t be sure. “Only if it’s okay?”
She laughed, and Remus was comforted by the tinkling sound of it, “Any friend of Sirius’ is welcome here, and we have far too many rooms to let them gather dust.”
And that was it, she led them upstairs and down a rug clad hallway to two doors on opposite sides. He was directed into the one on the left after being told where the bathroom was and left with a kiss on the forehead and the promise of breakfast when he awoke.
He went about his evening ablutions without thinking and stripped down to his boxers, falling into bed and promptly being swallowed by, a thankfully dreamless, sleep.
o
As it turned out, lunch would be what he received when his eyes finally opened, and a late one at that. He had slept right through breakfast and up until about two in the afternoon. Still, when he found his way downstairs, he learned that Sirius was yet to wake either.
He would have expected awkwardness from sitting at a table with three strangers, however it was anything but. He was introduced to James’ father Fleamont, a man who looked to be in his late fifties but still had a glint of childish mischief in his eyes; and found himself warming up to James as soon as they started talking.
He could tell the other boy was apprehensive at first but all it took was an explanation of the previous day and a bit’s adventures, he deliberately left out Sirius’ part of it (and the kissing), feeling that wasn’t his information to divulge. James thought it was all hilarious, and Remus decided he liked the boy, forgetting about all thoughts of being unwelcome.
The Potter’s house was a true home, smelling of freshly baked goods and full of photos and airily patterned sofas. Remus hoped they would let him stick around for a while, he felt peaceful here.
Sirius came down not long after he did, wearing only his pyjama trousers and hugging all members of the family and finally Remus, before sitting down and eating the meal set out for him like he hadn’t had food in a decade.
“So,” James started, “Remus has told us about your arduous journey, but he failed to mention the reason for it.”
Sirius chewed his mouthful, which was far to big, and swallowed, putting down his knife and fork, “I have been disowned.”
James reached over and clapped him on the back, nodding in what looked like praise as he returned to his seat, “How did they find out?”
That surprised Remus, so James knew? He was seemingly unfussed about it, Remus noted.
“Turns out all those porno mags I stuck on the walls, sorry Effie,” he said quickly, “weren’t enough to hide the truth,” he held a hand over his heart and gave a great show of his mock sadness.
“What are you going to do now then?”
Effie folded her tea towel over her shoulder and took Sirius’ face in her hands, “He’ll stay with us of course,” and he could see how much that meant to Sirius as he looked into the older woman’s eyes. “And that goes for you too dear,” she said, now speaking to him, “for as long as you need.”
He muttered a bashful “thank you” and went back to his meal. Sirius was looking at him as if to say, I told you so, and covertly blew him a kiss when he knew no one was watching. Though, he suspected Effie had seen from the wink she gave him when he left for the shower.
The three boys spent the rest day by the small river Remus and Sirius had crossed the previous night. The water was freezing cold, being fresh, and he didn’t even mind having to explain his scars (obtained from falling down a well when he was seven) which usually were kept hidden under ugly jumpers.
Sirius pulled him off to the side when James went back to the house to fetch some of Effie’s lemonade for them and kissed Remus full on the lips under the willow tree on the embankment. He could have sworn he had never been happier in his life.
The last thing he felt he had to do was send another letter to Lily, she deserved to know where he was and that he was safe. Monty had given him some sheets of thick, cream paper and a pen Remus was scared to write with, but did, nonetheless.
Dear Lily,
I am alive. I’m sorry for not writing or calling sooner but there isn’t a phone here and we haven’t been into town yet for me to use one there. As far as where I am: France believe it or not. The nearest town is called Rouillac, Sirius (we’ll get onto him in a second) says it’s sort of close to a place called Angoulême, though I’m not sure what use that is to you.
You would love it here Lils, it’s about twice as warm as Yorkshire will ever be and there’s actual fruit on the trees, and no, those apples in your garden that Petunia puts in her horrid pies do not count. Mrs Potter (again, I’ll get to it) has about twenty trees with everything from lemons to bloody peaches on them. I feel rich as anything, staying here.
Now, onto the topic I know you are dying to hear about. I met a boy called Sirius at the train station when I first left, he was in a right state, so I took him with me. We went to Manchester and then from there down to Dover, through London, I rode on the underground and everything. Then the ferry to France and we had a man in a lorry drive us down to where we are now, and we didn’t even get kidnapped!
We came to France because Sirius has a friend with a holiday home here. He’s called James Potter and his parents are the literally most wonderful people I have ever met. It’s just us for the moment but I think James said that their friend Peter might be coming at some point…
Sirius said he was planning to go into town in a few days so I might find a phone then, who knows maybe I’ll get to one before this reaches you. I miss you so much Lils I have so many things I want to tell you about that just don’t feel right in a letter.
I’m not sure when I’ll be back in England but in not going back to Yorkshire, perhaps I never will. Now that I have seen what I’ve seen, I don’t think I could ever be happy there. I know you have always dreamt of getting out so I’m telling you, do it. You have to leave Lily there’s so much more out here, find it in yourself to do it before you can’t. else you’ll end up married to one of the gits we went to school with, having fifteen kids and then sitting in the same house doing the same things every day until you die.
I love you Lily, and I will see you again when you are free.
Remus
It wasn’t perfect, and there were still a lot of things he wanted to say, but he could wait until he actually spoke to her to say all that. For now, it was enough.
He closed the envelope, feeling a weight leave him as he licked the stamp and handed the whole thing to Monty. He said he would give it to Effie when she went to the bakery tomorrow morning, and that it would probably reach its destination in two or three days, which was good enough for him.
Remus had never known a life where deadlines weren’t hovering above him constantly. The biggest had been his mum, he had known she wouldn’t live much longer when she had gone into the hospice, and he had watched her surpass the doctor’s deadlines until she couldn’t anymore. Before that, there was getting a job, that one had been pressing down on him since completing his CSEs a few months ago. He was sixteen years old and felt he deserved some freedom to not do anything at all for a while.
Effie was unfailingly kind to him, she held him on the second day he was there when he started crying about his mum and couldn’t stop for the life of him and she had made him a tart with caramelised fruit that he swore was the single most delicious thing he had ever eaten. He had thought she would get tired of hosting for them, but he quickly realised that she just liked having more people around, and more children to dote on.
He and Sirius did go into the village a few days later, the walk took about twice as long as it should have done on account of Sirius pressing him against the fence of one of the sunflower fields and kissing him until he lost feeling in his lips.
The town was even nicer in the daylight, the August sun beat down on the corrugated, copper-coloured roofs of the breezy building of the streets that wound around each other to the city centre. They were afforded some respite from the sun by the striped awnings of the market stalls, from which Sirius bought him a necklace with a silver moon charm on it; he liked the way it felt against his chest and how keenly he felt the cool of it.
The phone was far too expensive in Remus’ opinion, but he paid it anyway, heart beating a fraction faster at the crackling line as he punched in Lily’s number and stared at the graffiti on the wall behind it. It rang four times before he heard the click of the connection on the other end and a familiar, shrill voice assaulted his ear.
“Hello, Evans residence,” Remus held the phone about two inches away from him in protection from Petunia’s squealing tone.
“Is Lily there?” Best to be short with her, or she’d start talking his ear off about her vile boyfriend or something equally offensive.
“Oh, its you,” he heard the shout of his friend’s name and the sound of the phone being put down on the table and there was silence for a minute.
Then, “Remus?” he smiled at hearing her voice again.
“Hello Lily.”
“Don’t you ‘hello Lily’ me, I wake up to a letter telling me you’ve run away and them don’t hear from you for nearly a week, and they I find out you’re in another sodding country with a bunch of strangers. Do you know how worried I’ve been?”
He cringed, wrapping the metal cord between his fingers as he let her talk.
“I mean, really Remus? Do I not deserve a little something more than that?”
“Lily I wrote that at one in the morning after I watched my mum die. I wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind, but if you think I regret going then you’re wrong. I meant what I said in the other letter, did you get the letter yet?” she had, “I don’t think I was ever alive there.”
She took a second longer before speaking, really thinking about her words, “I just wish you had told me love.”
He deflated, all the defensiveness of his prior comments leaving him, “I am sorry I didn’t tell you before I left, but I wouldn’t have gone if I had. You know that as well as I do.”
“I do indeed. Now, I want you to tell me about this pretty boy you met on the train.”
He smiled, finally having the opportunity to gush about him to someone, “He’s lovely Lils. He’s so posh and so beautiful, Christ he’s nice to look at.” He realized he sounded like a teenage girl, “I just really like him.”
“Oh, so it is like that then?”
“He’s a very good kisser,” he whispered, blushing like a lovesick fool.
“Good gracious, whatever happened to my sweet innocent Remus?” she exclaimed in mock offence.
“He was always like this, just a bit better at hiding it.”
They talked until Remus ran out of coins for the phone and they shouted goodbyes at each other as the connection cut out. He placed the plastic receiver back on its cradle and went off to find Sirius. He felt like he was searching for hours, losing himself among the sights and smells of the bustling market.
He finally found Sirius leaning on a wall on the way out of the village with a brown paper bag in his hand and broad grin on his face. Once they were walking, he opened the bag to find two eclairs which were devoured before they reached the bridge.
Upon arriving at the house, he was greeted by a new face. The boy was their age but looked younger because of the roundness of his face, he was already burned from the scorching sun and shook Remus’ hand when they were introduced.
“I’m Peter,” he sounded so much less affected than James and Sirius and Remus liked him right away. He felt completely at ease talking to Peter, not just because of the familiar northern accent but the boy was friendly and funny too.
They spent the next few days splitting their time between the river, the town and the fields surrounding the house. Remus found out he was capable of tanning and, his hair bleached a shade lighter from the constant exposure to the summer sun.
He supposed this was what being a kid felt like, not worrying about getting to the hospice in the evenings or dividing what meagre money they had into food, clothing and savings piles. He enjoyed himself far more than he ever thought possible.
The following week, a freckled girl with long red hair walked over the crest of the hill and down to the front of the house. She had a blue suitcase in her hand a large straw hat atop her fiery hair. Lily Evans had followed Remus to France.
The further addition to the house was welcomed by Mr and Mrs Potter, who seemed to grow happier with every additional person in their home. Lily and Effie got on like a house on fire and James had been infatuated with her from the second he laid eyes on her. Remus found it hilarious how he followed her around when she wasn’t insisting on working for her board (an idea which was scoffed at by both Potter parents).
Lily had flown on an aeroplane to the closest airport and had gotten the rest of the way by bus. He had to respect the planning, God knows he and Sirius hadn’t put that much thought into it. Get there had been about as far as they had planned. Lily also had weather-appropriate clothes and more than one pair of shoes, something Remus could not say for himself.
Like Remus, she had been embarrassed about showing up unannounced to a stranger’s house and went as far as to suggest booking a room at an inn in town, but Effie wouldn’t hear a word of it, fixing her up in the room at the end of the hall with the nicest view from the first floor.
That night they had all stayed up into the wee hours of the morning playing poker, blackjack and every other card game they knew the rules to, rolling on the floor and clutching their middles in laughter.
About half an hour after getting into his bed he heard a quiet tapping on the frame of his door and when he opened it, he was met with the smiling face of Sirius.
“Can I sleep with you?” Remus took his hand in answer and led him to the bed, where they laid, facing each other and letting a conversation pass between their gazes in the silence.
“Thank you for coming with me,” Sirius whispered, so quiet Remus barely heard him.
“I have never been happier, than I am here and now, with you.”
They smiled at each other, because that was all that needed saying, and went to sleep.