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Chapter Text

Lily was trying not to think.

Lying on her back in her tiny muggle room, the walls a pastel yellow her mother had chosen before she’d passed, the record player blaring out Cherry Bomb from the Runaways record Mary’d bought her over spring break.
Mary.

Hello, Daddy,
Hello Mom,
I’m your
Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch
Cherry bomb,

She was desperately trying to be mad, because at least anger meant she wasn’t empty.

Hello world, I’m your riot girl

Like Lily had ever done anything considered riotous. Like she wasn’t the biggest swot of the fifth year girls dorm. Like she wasn’t pretending to be angry so she wouldn’t have to think.

“I’m a fucking orphan Mary, leave me alone.”

Her last words before rushing to McGonagall’s office and flooing home. She hadn’t turned around as she went, already knowing the stricken look that would’ve crossed her friend's face.

You see, the same day Lily Evans lost her best friend, she also lost her parents.

Doris and Frank Evans had died in a house fire on June 14, 1976. Petunia had been at school, aggravated over the screaming match she’d had with Doris that morning. Lily, of course, had no idea what had happened, and though Petunia could be vile, she wasn’t cruel, so she hadn't told Lily. Doris and Frank were imperfect, and those imperfections had led to them getting a divorce.

While Lily was making a futile attempt to numb herself, Petunia Evans was applying to universities, and mailing off job applications. It was there, in the post office, that Petunia ran into Vernon for the first time, and unbeknownst to herself, set down the path which would lead to her and her sister’s permanent estrangement.

Her lipstick had left a mark on her mug. Shit. Petunia did not want Vernon to think she was messy. They were sitting in a small, quiet coffee shop, just around the corner from Grunnings, the drill company he was interning at. This simple, quaint place was in fact the very same coffee shop Vernon had insisted they go to after running into her and knocking her fresh cup to the ground. After waiting in line for half an hour due to the lunch rush
(“Don’t worry about it,” Vernon had said), they had sat at one of the tiny wooden tables and chatted, and Petunia could not remember the last time she had been so happy and calm to simply chat with somebody.

Vernon of course, being the gentleman he was, did not remark on the lipstick.

He really was a gentleman, she thought as she walked down the road, shopping bag swinging slightly against her stockinged leg. She knew had she told Lily, she wouldn’t have understood. To Lily, Vernon would be bland, boring, and plain, but to Petunia, Vernon was normal. So utterly normal that during their chat Petunia had not thought once about her parent’s or the remarkable number of problems they’d left behind, and for the first time in her life Petunia had not been jealous, or angry, or upset about being normal, because that’s what she was. No matter how many times her parents had told her, “You’re just as magic as she is, in a different way.”, or “You’re both special”, She had always known she was normal, and with Vernon, normal was okay. With Vernon, normal was perfect.

Dear Lily,

I heard.
I’m sorry about your parents, I know you were close.
If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.

I’m sorry,

James

Dear Lily,

I know you’re mad, but I didn’t mean it.
It was James, you know he’s like that.

Please answer me,

Sev

Dear Lily,

I’m so sorry about your parents, they loved you very much.
I know we argued at the end of the year, but that doesn’t matter.

Call me, ok?

Mary

Dear Lily,

Your mum was a beautiful person and her life shouldn’t have ended. She was taken too soon.
If you want to be alone I understand, but anytime you need, send me an owl and we can meet in Diagon Alley.

Sending love,

Dory
P.S.
Mary feels shit about your argument.

Dear Lily,

It’s been two months and we’re all getting worried.
We get it if you don’t want to talk, but please just write back to someone so we know you’re ok, ok?

All our love,

Dory, Alice, Mary & Marlene

Lily,
I’m sorry about your mum.
It was nice running into you today.
You wanna meet in Diagon Alley on the 14th to get our books and things?

Remus

Remus,
Sure.
Just us though, ok?

See you on the 14th,

Lily

Remus John Lupin was very, very worried about Lily. So were James, Peter, Sirius, Mary, Dorcas, Alice, Marlene, and about half the school.

Lily Jean Evans was very, very worried about Remus. So were James, Peter, Sirius, Mary, Dorcas, Alice, Marlene, and about half the school.

This meant that, when faced with soul crushing amounts of concern and pity from every other side, they chose each other.

Even though the first time they saw each other outside of school was on the 14th of August, by the end of the summer they were inseparable.

It was the last day for Remus to be alone. The last day before he would be back in his Hogwarts dorm with his three best mates. Former, he thought, Former best mates. So, naturally, as they both wanted to be alone, Remus and Lily were together.

They were strolling the aisles of a muggle record shop. Both raised by muggles, they could walk around London with a familiarity the others had never had. Lily had been staying with him since the 24th while Petunia looked for an apartment, and since then they’d gone on all sorts of escapades that would have been next to impossible with some of the others tagging along. He shut out the image of Sirius, the first time they’d snuck out of hogsmeade to see the city. Every time Remus thought of him he was in pain, and he was next to impossible not to think about.

A nudge to his arm brought him back to his senses. Lily was standing next to him, or rather a foot below him. She was grinning like the cat that got the canary.

“What the hell are you on about, smiling like that?” He muttered, smiling, before turning back to the crate of records labeled simply, Punk.

“Just LISTEN for one bloody second will you?”

He rolled his eyes and listened.

Awh-ooooo
Werewolves in london
Awh-ooooooooooo

He looked down and made eye contact with her, which turned out to be a massive mistake because the moment their eyes met they could no longer hold it in. She let out a massive cackle, and the man sitting on a stool at the front desk, glaring, began towards them.
Remus could barely see for the tears in his eyes, but he felt a tug on his hand, the woosh of the door, and the sunlight on his back, and he knew they were outside.

“Lily?”

They both stood up straight, and Remus had to hold his breath so as not to let out a snort.
There, standing with a look of absolute shock, was a woman who looked exactly like Lily.
No, he was being stupid, she looked nothing like Lily.
Did she?
Remus decided not to decide.

“Wh-wha-Lily Jean Evans. WHAT are you doing.”

Though Remus could not read the expressions on the faces of the two young women, he could very easily tell one thing, based exclusively on the fact that his mother got the exact same way when she was angry.
That was not a question.

Lily, raising her eyebrows, responded wryly, “Walking the other direction.”

He stifled a laugh as she grabbed his elbow and began steering him in exactly that direction.

“Goodbye Petunia, Vernon. I hope you have a lovely time.” she cooed.

He let out a snort, and she grimaced.

“Ugh, VERNON. Doesn’t that sound like a horrifically dull name?”

He had to agree, It truly did, but even if he hadn’t Lily wouldn’t have noticed, because she kept nattering on, and he found himself zoning out. Her and James really were quite similar in this regard. Sometimes they would simply talk, and they didn’t really care whether anyone was listening. James. That brought him back to Sirius. He hurriedly tuned back into what she was saying.
“...to be honest I know we said we’d put it off as long as possible, but I really do need to pack, would you mind if we went quickly to pick up the last couple things, then back to yours?”

James was very, very concerned.

Remus hadn’t answered a single letter he’d sent since early July. He hadn’t answered any from Pete either. James had assumed Remus wouldn’t reply to anything from Sirius, and had come to the conclusion long ago that trying to force Remus and Sirius into talking to each other was not going to work.

After that disaster with Lily and Snape, he had been so sure that would be the horrible incident to mark the year with, but he had thought wrong. He had no idea what had been said and done to provoke Sirius, and he honestly didn’t care. What Sirius had done was inexcusable, not because of how it affected Snape but because of how it affected Remus. James had been avoiding him all summer in an attempt to prove to Remus that he wasn’t going to abandon him for Sirius. It had not been working very well, and Remus was now avoiding all of them. Well, he thought, at least I can see him tomorrow on the train.

That brought his mind back into the circle it’d been in since June.

Lily.

He knew that she was still angry. But he also knew that she hadn’t responded to anyone’s letters. Not a single one, because the moment he heard about her parents he had owled Alice and Dory to check. They hadn’t gotten anything from her either. All he wanted was for her to be okay. He could deal with anger, he could understand if she wouldn’t forgive him, but he needed to know she was okay.

Dear Lily,

I’m really sorry. I was a pretentious egotistical git.
I’ve thought a lot about what you said,
And I realized you’re right.

James

That night, while Remus was brushing his teeth, just after his mum, Hope, had gone to bed, Lily received a letter. She hadn’t opened any of the ones she’d gotten when she was with Petunia other than that one from Remus, so they were probably packed up into another of the boxes currently being moved. She couldn’t exactly put this with them, so she opened it.

And, maybe because she had the time, or maybe because she felt bad, or maybe because of some things she still hadn’t recognized within herself, for the second time that summer, she wrote back.

James,

Good.

See you tomorrow,

Lily

James was up anyways.
Or at least that’s what he told himself.

I think you’re not over her.
Shut up internal Sirius.
Well, are you?
...Fuck, I’m really not.

It was then, lying awake and fully clothed, a cigarette between his lips, with Lily in the next room over and his mother downstairs, that Remus finally let himself feel it.

All of it.

Because Sirius Black had not simply been his friend. There was no label for what him and Sirius were to each other, but whatever delicate, fragile thing they’d built in May 1976 was gone, and it really, really fucking hurt.

He was empty, and he was raw, and he was alone.

So he screamed into his pillow until his throat burned, and then finally, finally, he fell asleep.

And right into his memories.

The first time Remus saw Sirius, at Madam Malkins on a Saturday. Remus was absolutely terrified about starting school for the first time. He kept thinking they’d rescind their offer, come out of whatever fever dream had inspired them to invite a bloody werewolf to Hogwarts, and then he’d have to stay, and he’d be trapped. He was spiralling, stewing in terrified thoughts, and a part of him just kept feeding into everything, his worst fears, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. A tear slid down his cheek, and then he saw him.

A pretty woman was steering a boy through the street far too hard, glaring at him with nothing but contempt, and his expression had gone blank. Totally and completely blank, the kind of blank expression only boys like he and Remus knew. Then the woman walked off, clinging to another, smaller boy. The older boy turned around and Remus saw his face in the shop window.

A tall boy with glossy dark hair tucked behind his ears, falling around his shoulders. His eyes were dark, and secretive, and Remus found himself wanting to know every secret they held. He walked into the shop, and Remus, eyes wide, watchful, watchful from years of seeing his step father and then his step brother get drunk and dangerous, had tracked Sirius across the floor of the shop, and up the stairs to right next to himself.

The boy hadn’t known him, and he hadn’t known the boy.

They made eye contact as the boy stood on the other platform waiting for Madame Malkin to come back in with another measuring tape. When their eyes met, he knew that they understood each other. As he was desperately trying to hold back his tears, he felt someone grab his hand.

For a second, Remus Lupin was not alone.

Even though it was only a second, the emotion, the complete understanding that passed through their hands had made him feel so blissfully full, and calm, and not quite so lonely,
And then the moment passed, the boy let go, and Madame Malkin came back into the room.

Remus and the boy didn’t make eye contact again.

Jack came to get him, a six pack in his hand, muttering about how the summer heat would make his beer warm, and nobody wanted warm beer. Remus tucked that memory, that feeling of completeness away, somewhere safer– somewhere his stepfather Jack, and his step brother, Chris would never touch.

And they never did, because in March of second year Jack and Chris died in a drunk driving accident, and neither Hope nor Remus cried at the funeral.

February, second year, running through the rain to herbology, James and Peter had gone ahead, and they’d been absolutely soaked by the time they reached the greenhouses, twenty five minutes late because Remus had a panic attack after receiving a letter from his stepfather. Sirius hadn’t even let him open it, before chucking it into the fire, and then he’d just sat with him on the cool tile floor of the second year boys bathroom, arm around Remus's shoulder, and they’d both cried.

Professor Sprout gave them detention.

It was then, while polishing the plaques in the trophy room, four hours into detention, that Sirius asked him,

“Remus?”

“Yeah, what?” he’d said, thinking Sirius would ask him for the homework, or help with some prank, but then he spoke again.

“I know what happens to you every month.”

“Nothing happens.” He was suddenly aware of how tight his skin felt over his face.

“I know you’re a werewolf.”

Remus was off, running from the room, down the hall, he didn’t care where, he just wanted to get as far away as possible. He was about to turn around the corner when Sirius caught up to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him back so they were facing each other.

Their eyes met.“You didn’t let me finish. I know, and I don’t care.”

Last year, fifth year, when they’d been walking late to Transfiguration after a full moon, when the hallways were almost empty, Sirius had grabbed his hand, and he'd pulled him along hand, running silently through the castle. It continued every time they were walking alone, stolen glances, fleeting touches, until they shared a drunken kiss in the fifth floor broom closet. It was perfect.

They had been perfect, and Remus had been flying high, blissfully happy in a way he had never been before, in a way that confused Peter and James because for once they weren’t in on the joke, because it wasn’t a joke, it was simply what was. Then they woke up sober the next morning. Then it happened.

And Remus was no longer flying high, because Remus Lupin could no longer fly at all.

Not without Sirius.

He sat up, squeezing his eyes shut, willing the agony to go away, but it didn’t. Eventually, he succumbed to exhaustion, and awoke eight hours later to the sound of Lily tearing through her trunk frustratedly in the room to his right, and his mother frying eggs on the stove below him.

He sat up, cracked his neck, and got out of bed to go help with breakfast.

You’re not alone. He reminded himself.

Right now you’ve got Lily, he thought as he rambled down the stairs, towards his mum.

He wrapped a surprised but delighted Hope in a hug, resting his head on top of hers.

And you’ll always have your mum.