Chapter Text
Objectively speaking, Remus Lupin had too much free time.
He was 21, relatively unemployed (unless the family farm counted), and currently counting down his last week of house arrest, which his ankle monitor graciously reminded him with its frequent beeps. He tapped his phone and watched it light up 12:25. She was supposed to have been here five minutes ago, but it was always a gamble when it came to her. A notification flashed on the screen:
From: Enemy of the State #1, to Remus 12:26 pm
Running late, had a last-minute emergency, be there in fifteen
Remus groaned and typed out his response.
From: Remus, to Enemy of the State #1, 12:26 pm
Hurry, might die of boredom before you get here.
Within seconds, he heard the whoosh of her response come in,
From: Enemy of the State #1, to Remus 12:27 pm
Pretty sure dying isn’t on the list of acceptable activities for prisoners of the state of Pennsylvania. Have you asked Sluggy?
“Sluggy” referred to Horace Slughorn Remus’s probation officer, a bouncy old man with a trademark beer gut and a case of chronic optimism.
From: Remus, to Enemy of the State #1, 12:27 pm
I hate you so much
From: Enemy of the State #1, to Remus 12:27 pm
xoxo
Remus flipped over his phone and turned toward his computer, the thing was significantly less impressive than his old one but the state had seized that three months ago so there was nothing to be done. He typed in his password and opened his email. According to the banner next to his inbox, he had one new email. He clicked it excitedly, hoping that any of the jobs he’d applied for had finally responded. He’d been especially excited about the organizing job at the queer community center in Philly, but alas, the page opened to a campaign flyer; the red and white header asking “How Do You Feel About Republican Candidate Candace Warner’s Agenda?” The rest of the email was filled with shiny images of a sleek blonde woman with flashy white teeth, and a list of flashy buzzwords that explained her “plan” if she was elected to the Senate this fall.
As he scanned the rest of the text Remus felt a knot of fury form in his stomach. He knew it wasn’t good to get so worked up about things like this, his counselor was always telling him he needed to handle his anger in a healthy way, but nothing irked Remus more than lying politicians. He clicked the reply arrow and began to type frantically.
Dear Ms. Warner,
There are many things I feel about your so-called “agenda” so it’s honestly hard to pick out just one. You know when I first read in the New York Times about the Republican candidate who believed in “Jewish Space Lasers” I thought it was funny, truly I did. I even considered buying the pins they started selling at my synagogue, but then I did a bit of research on what you really believe. Now tell me, did you lined your pockets with commercial campaign donations, before or after promising to repeal the hundreds of laws outlining carbon emissions? When I read the proposal to put millions of state dollars into anti-homeless architecture I had to wonder; were you born with a complete lack of empathy or is that just what happens when you're a total corporate sell-out? How does it feel to value money over actual human lives? Do you sleep well at night knowing that you want to intentionally create even more barriers for already marginalized groups’ access to housing? To their basic human rights?
Anxiously awaiting your response,
Convict of the state,
Remus David Lupin
He scanned the draft half panting. He felt slightly better, his anger receding.
“Remus, your girlfriend is here!” Called his father’s low voice crackling from years of cigars. Remus glanced once at the email and clicked send before he grabbed his leather satchel and cellphone and headed out of his bedroom.
“For the last time Pa, she’s not my girlfriend anymore, she’s a lesbian.” Remus reminded Lyall who was leaning on his wooden cane in the corner scratching at his greying beard.
“Oh you know what I mean,” said Lyall.
Remus sent an apologetic smile to the young woman standing in the doorway as he pulled on his black Doc Martens.
“No worries Mr. Lupin,” drawled Dorcas Medowes, southern accent in full swing. “If I was to ever go for a man again, Remus would be my first choice.”
“Oh shut up,” Remus said, swinging his bag at Dorcas’s head. “See you tonight Pa.”
“Be back by--”
“Eight-thirty,” answered Remus, “I know.” And he let the door swing shut behind him.
“So Mr. Criminal Mastermind, how’s it feel you’ve got what a week left?” Dorcas asked, bringing her coveted Juul pen to her lips and taking a puff of fruit-flavored vapor. His ex-girlfriend turned best friend was dark-skinned and beautiful with long braided hair that fell to her waist. Today she wore a light green camisole and white sweater over a denim skirt. Her bag was covered in pins all with some sort of slogan or catchphrase. Remus owned a matching pin for almost every one, all strewn somewhere in the mess of his bedroom.
“Like this week will never end,” Remus responded climbing into the passenger seat of Dorcas’s silver Honda Civic.
“Aw cheer up grumps, it’ll be over before you know it.” Dorcas gestured to the stereo, “you’re DJ but none of your sad shit. I’m not in the mood for angsty white men.”
Remus thought about arguing that he listened to the angst of those from all genders and racial backgrounds but he thought the wiser and switched on an upbeat punk song. Dorcas nodded her approval as she started the car and they began down the dirt road. Thanks to Remus’s run-in with the law last spring there weren’t a ton of places Remus and his friends could go. Thankfully, community service was part of his mandatory activities according to his parole office, and the voter registration drive located at their local public park qualified. Dorcas tapped her fingers on the dash to the beat of the song as she drove.
“So Remus,” she said slyly, “when you're finally free of that bracelet is there a special someone you’re taking out to celebrate?”
Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes, Dorcas knew as well as anyone he hadn’t been on a proper date in years. “No Cas, as I’ve said I’m in a very committed relationship to the x rated tab on my computer, and I don’t need any ‘special someone’. Not all of us have a million girls in our DMs you know.”
“Alright, alright,” said Dorcas defensively, “I just thought it might be good for you to get back out there.”
“Hmph,” huffed Remus. He turned towards the window. Just as he was about to form yet another witty retort his phone buzzed in his side pocket. He pulled it out of his jeans to see the screen light up white with the notification.
From: Enemy of the state #2, to Remus 12:55 pm:
Are you two losers on your way? This thing starts in five minutes!!
“It’s Mary,” said Remus. “She aggressively wants to know what time we’re going to be there.”
Mary Macdonald was the third member of their “little friendship group”, as Remus’s mom used to call it. While they’d all attended the local public school since kindergarten, Mary had been the only joiner of the three of them. While Remus had been busy in his bedroom learning his way around a computer system and Dorcas attending every local punk show she could find, Mary had been class president, captain of the dance team, and ended their thirteen years of education as class valedictorian. Mary was the type of person everyone wanted to be around and wanted a piece of. But for some unfounded reason, she’d chosen them.
“Tell Mary to hold her fucking horses,” said Dorcas. “We’re going as fast as we can.”
“I have a feeling she’s not going to like that response,” Remus muttered, but he typed out his response.
From: Remus, to Enemy of the State #2 12:56 pm:
We’re on our way. Cas says “hold your horses”
From: Enemy of the State #2, to Remus 12:56 pm:
I’m going to strangle you both.
As he was typing out a response, they pulled into the parking lot of the park and Remus stepped out of the car and was immediately face to face with a steaming Mary Macdonald. Her shoulder-length curly hair was pinned back with red barrettes that matched the shade of her red lipstick. Her skin was a warm brown, shades darker than Remus’s beige complexion but not quite as rich as Dorcas’s. In grade school, everyone had always compared the three of them, the sole black kids in their grade, which had always made Remus laugh based on how wildly different each of them looked from another.
“I told you!” Mary half-shouted, “you need to arrive fifteen minutes early so you can help me set up! Do you know how difficult it was to unfold all those tables with these?” She gestured wildly at her perfectly manicured fingernails. She turned to Dorcas, nostrils flaring, “and don’t you go blaming this on Remus, I know for a fact that you were the one that made him late! I’m your best friend! For once in your life could you have just shown up in the time I told you to!”
‘We’re very sorry Mary,” Remus said, interrupting her rant and catching a grateful gaze from Dorcas. “What can we do to help?”
“Well aren’t you the sweetest?” cooed Mary, her tone immediately switching, anger forgotten. “Remus if you could man the first table with Ted over there,” she waved at a yellow-haired man who stood at the registration table a few meters away. He smiled back.
“Cute,” remarked Dorcas, “don’t you think Remus?”
Remus rolled his eyes.
“He is,” said Mary tiredly, “such a shame he’s engaged.”
Remus let out a “hmph,” before turning and jogging to join him at the table. Behind the booth, Mary had set up stacks of forms to be handed out to anyone passing by, as well as flyers and instructions for those who wanted to register online instead.
“Hello there,” said the yellow-haired man, “I’m Ted Tonks, so very nice to meet you.”
At closer inspection, Ted looked a good bit older than Remus and his friends. Maybe late twenties, early thirties. He was short and stocky with the same straw-colored stubble dotting his cheeks and chin. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way but Remus saw in the hand Ted held out for him to shake, that Mary had been correct. There was a silver band on his ring finger, signifying his engagement, Remus supposed.
“Remus Lupin, and likewise,” he said, taking the hand in his own.
The next few hours went by smoothly enough, they passed out leaflets, filled out forms, and answered hundreds of questions from passersby. There was a sort of tension in the air that made Remus itchy. Something in the urgency of the way they hand out flyers and the way voters wrote down their names. The upcoming election is an important one and everyone knew it. Around five, the line began to wind down and a crowd began to form at the stage. Remus and Ted followed the rest of the workers to the mass of people Ted and his short frame gestured to Remus that he was going to try to get closer, Remus nodded but remained at the back. At 6'3 he wasn't worried about not being able to see.
“Hey everybody thanks for coming out!” says a friendly voice. On the stage stands James Potter, firstborn to the current Pennsylvania senator Fleamont Potter. James is brown-skinned and handsome with an easy smile and messy dark hair. He’s the type of man that makes it impossible to dislike him even if you so desperately want to. Remus doesn’t trust politicians or their children even if their track record for the last six years has been spotless.
“As you know my father, as well as my whole family, has made ending voting suppression in the state of Pennsylvania our top priority for this election. No matter someone’s identity. Even,” and he pauses with a smirk and a knowing look towards the crowd, “if they look like me.” This gets a small chuckle from the crowd. James looks satisfied and gives a wave to the crowd as he turns off the stage, “oh and uh vote Potter!” He calls on his way out, this gets a cheer.
Remus and Dorcas pass out flyers to the leaving audience until the crowd has dispersed. Then as they're packing up James Potter approaches them, arm and arm with a pretty ginger girl Remus assumes is his girlfriend. He doesn’t even recognize her until she’s closer and he sees the freckles that dot her nose and the signature green eyes.
“Remus?” Lily Evans basically screeches when she finally sees him too. “Oh my goodness it’s been ages, how have you been? I didn’t know you were working for the campaign, what a coincidence!”
“I’m not!” Remus chokes out because she’s hugging him so tightly he can barely breathe. Finally, she lets go and he’s able to explain, “I’m doing my community service for the voter registration drive.” He gestures to the blinking black band on his ankle.
“Jeez,” Lily says, squinting at it, after a pause she adds, “I guess that would be the reason I haven’t seen you at Shabbat services in months.” Her voice is sympathetic like she genuinely cares about the fact he’s been missing.
“Don’t remind me,” Remus smiles gently, “my father thinks the fact I can’t go is the pinnacle of modern antisemitism. He keeps going on about how church hours are permitted and how he’s going to write to the court in protest.”
Lily laughs and gestures to James who’s a few feet away chatting with Dorcas. “I’m bringing this one next Shabbat. My mom’s been bugging me to.” She bends over to whisper in Remus’s left ear, “Petunia found out he’s not Jewish and had a fit. You should have seen it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so pink.”
Remus smiles knowingly. Lily’s older sister Petunia was just about everything Lily was not. She was bony, blonde, and mean-spirited. She had what Remus’s mother (G-d rest her soul) used to call “a perpetual stick up her ass”. Remus could imagine the expression on Petunia’s face when she’d been introduced to one James Potter.
“So what are you guys up to now?” James asked, interrupting Remus’s thoughts. “We’re having a little get-together with some campaign buddies if you all would like to come along?”
Remus opened his mouth to explain but Dorcas had arrived back at his side and nudged him sympathetically. “We gotta get this one home, thanks for the invite though.”
“Ah,” said James looking genuinely disappointed. “Next time then.”
“Next time,” agreed Lily. “It was wonderful to see you, Remus. Really we must get coffee soon.”
“Definitely,” said Remus wondering if she meant it. Or was just being nice? He found it difficult to tell at times, especially when he didn’t know the person very well.
They picked up slices of pizza and cans of coke on the way home and as they sat in the car eating Remus probed the question that had been set in his mind for hours.
“Dorcas?”
“Hmm”
“Do you ever worry that you’re not doing enough? That you won’t ever have any real impact? That all of this” Remus gestured to his ankle bracelet and the pins and papers strewn through Dorcas’s car, “will all be for nothing?”
Dorcas paused as if considering taking a sip from her can before saying, “Sometimes. But then I remember who I am, and who we are, and I don’t think it matters all that much.” She met his gaze for a moment before saying, “our existence is revolution Remus. We’re not supposed to succeed. Everything exists to hold us down. So no, I don’t worry that I won’t have enough impact because I am the impact I wish to achieve.”
Against his best efforts, Remus snorted, “Cliche much?”
Dorcas rolled her eyes at him. “Oh come on. When was the last time you saw two kids of color like us on TV?”
“Half,” Remus corrected automatically.
“Fine,” huffed Dorcas, “when was the last time you saw a beautiful black woman and a mixed-race man in a constant state of identity crisis on television?”
“Never,” admitted Remus.
“Precisely,” said Dorcas.
After she had dropped him at his door and wished him goodnight Remus turned the doorknob and stepped inside. The house smelled of orange peel, spices, and a hint of cigar smoke. As he was pulling off his boots when his father’s familiar voice called out, “Remus, there's leftover stew on the stove if you’re hungry.”
“I’m alright Pa,” Remus said back stepping into the living room where Lyall sat in his favorite armchair, reading glasses on the tip of his nose and his book in his lap. “Dorcas and I picked up pizza.”
“Hmm,” said Lyall, rubbing the thick black hair that lined his chin. “That Mister Slughorn called when you were out. Wanted to remind you you’ve got one of those meetings tomorrow. Must be getting down to the line with those huh? How many more you got?” His voice, like always, was twinged with the slight guttural accent of his many years speaking Hebrew. It had been the language Remus had grown up speaking, the traditional words tossed around the walls of their home for years before any of them spoke a sentence of English. Since his mother’s passing three years ago, Remus had not heard his father whisper a word of his old dialect. There was something sacred about the words to Lyall, and Remus supposed that it might have died with his mom.
“Only two more, then I’m free” Remus responded finally, but they both knew that wasn’t really true.
“Feels like you’ve had that bracelet forever,” his father said, turning back to his book.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” said Remus sourly. He knew he should have been grateful for the fact he hadn’t ended up behind bars but it didn’t help that the white counterpart to his schemes had gotten only a fine and a slap on the wrist.
“Mr. Lupin displays no feelings of remorse for his actions,” had been the explanation by his judge.
“Mr. Lupin had a brown skin-colored sentence the minute he walked into this room,” Lyall had mumbled angrily in his court seat next to Remus.
But just or not with a week left of his 90-day sentence Remus would be free of his ankle monitor in six days. It hardly felt worth the brooding. He hadn’t thought a lot about what he’d do once he was no longer serving his sentence, but now sitting by the fire his mind began to wonder. He wondered if he ought to be looking for a real job or at least something to help support his dad. Something that would be a step forward, that would help him get back on track with his life. But honestly, all Remus wanted to do was get back behind his keyboard. He’d be more careful this time, he had to be. He’d been sloppy, overconfident, but this time he knew more and this time he’d succeed.
“I’m going up to bed, Rem,” said his father standing and kissing him atop the head before turning up the stairs, “Goodnight. Sleep well, my son.”
“Goodnight Pa,” said Remus back. Then he was alone once again, just the soft whistling of the wind and the smell of stew to keep him company. He took a breath letting the warm air fill his lungs, in and out, in and out, in and out.