Chapter Text
At 18 years old, buzzing with excitement to start life as a fresh-faced adult, Remus Lupin felt like he finally had a fresh start. An opportunity to be someone other than the six foot three loser with no friends. He had been itching to leave from the moment secondary school turned out to be a complete dead end with teachers who didn’t care and children who’d rather do anything but learn. Remus was the odd one out and all that made him was complete, utter loser.
The town itself wasn’t much better, suffering from the seaside holiday resort curse that ravaged small towns and villages up and down the Welsh coast. Businesses clung on to the money they made in the summer when customers quadrupled thanks to the allure of the seaside and crumbling castle ruins but when the winter came around they were left to drown. This meant that every year the number of little cafes and bookshops decreased turning the once picturesque town into a graveyard for family-owned businesses.
All this was not to say there wasn’t positives to this particular corner of the world Remus had occupied from the moment Hope and Lyall Lupin and brought a tiny bundle of blankets home from the hospital. He liked the way the sun danced on the sea at sunset. He liked his neighbour’s tiny little chihuahua and the way it’d bound over to Remus as fast as it’s little legs could carry it when he saw it out on walks. He liked the owner of the small bakery at the end of the pitiful main street, Mrs McKinnon who’d always give him a mini bounty with his loaf of bread in the morning because he was the only person who liked the controversial sweet treat.
There were also the people he loved. His mother, Hope who was a stay at home mum but as her only son relied on her less and less had taken up watercolour that she sold from her husbands shop. His father, Lyall owned a bike shop on the outskirts of town and survived off of loyal customers and summer rentals. His next-door neighbour and the daughter of Mrs McKinnon, Marlene who was his only friend and, if he was being completely honest, the only thing that stopped him from succumbing to the monotony that lapped ceaselessly at the edges of the town.
Remus had met Marlene on the first day of sixth form after sharing a table in English literature and discovering that she had moved in next to him the day prior. Marlene had come from Cardiff and made it abundantly clear that she would be returning the moment she had the chance. After establishing the mutual understanding that neither of them planned on sticking around, they became fast friends. A relationship founded on the desire to scratch the itch of restlessness that can only be born from the sluggish atmosphere they were submerged in. Marlene was clever. The type to always have her hand up in class and to sulk when she wasn’t granted permission to share her opinion. Her hair was kept in a shaggy, bleached bob that was the work of a failed exam, a bottle of the cheapest wine the corner shop offered and blunt kitchen scissors. Remus looked back on that night as the first time he knew there was something special about Marlene. As she shoved the chunky scissors into his hands and begged him to be the one to make the first chop, he felt alive in a way he hadn’t ever felt before.
Sometimes, it felt like it was him and Marlene against the world. Like when she would drag him by the arm into the sea and they shrieked as the icy water touched their ankles, or when she had asked him to prom and they’d worn matching navy suits they'd rented. She was the only girl in their year to wear anything other than a floor length dress and people had sneered at the two of them but, as they danced in the gym for the time, it didn’t matter, because they had each other.
This, is why, when it came to applying to uni the year previous, when it still all felt an eternity away, they had both put down Cardiff as their first choice. Remus had opted for English lit despite warnings that he’d be better off going down the science route. Marlene had chosen physics despite warnings that she’d be better suited to something in the humanities category. His parents had been nothing but supportive of his decision and, despite the knowledge that their son was going to be so far from home, they told him with a smile, they were proud.
As the months before leaving turned warm and the days grew long, Remus and Marlene spent their days wondering about what was to come and who they’d meet. For Remus, the idea of the big city was a little daunting. After all his year was small, only about 70 people in total. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everything. Gossip was easy to come by, spread by the little old ladies at book club in the village church. Secrets were precious, the price to pay for relief of boredom. How many secrets did Cardiff contain? Surely enough that Marlene and Remus would never be bored again.
Their summer holiday was filled with lasts. Last trip to the neighbouring villages. Last time talking to teachers. Last fire on the beach. Last roast dinner with family. It wouldn’t be goodbye to any of these things. Not really. There was always Christmas and Easter where they could come back to the town and go to the neighbouring villages or light fires on the beach. It was, however, the last time they’d do these things with the innocence of childhood before they’d go off and the veil of obliviousness would fall.
The day before it was time to pack up the car and go, Remus and Marlene had taken a stroll down to the beach to say goodbye to the shoreline and waste time before their families converged for a final meal together. The sun hung low in the sky casting a gentle orange light that elongated shadows as they searched for stones to skim. With trousers rolled up to their knees they paddled in the sea the way that Remus had been doing since he could first walk, being held up with one parent on either side of his tiny body. They spoke of the good memories: the first time they met, the time Tracey Jones had shown up to school with puke green hair (the result of hair dye and a swimming pool) and Marlene had laughed so hard she was sent out of class, Remus’ first drink of alcohol when he’d told Marlene he loved her and gave her a wet kiss on the cheek.
As they meandered back to Marlene’s house, hopeful that the adults would be back from the supermarket a 20 minute drive away, the tentative mourning of childhood was broken abruptly. Sirens pierced through their reminiscing like a baby’s shriek emphasised by how uncommon of an occurrence the flashing blue lights were.
“Oh God, I hope Mr Vance is okay, apparently it was Emmeline who had to call the ambulance last time.” Marlene said with furrowed brows. Mr Vance was Emmeline’s grandfather and was the most accident prone man Remus had ever met. The last two time the ambulance had been called it was for him after he had fallen off a ladder trying to get moss out of his drainpipe. Remus had taken him some soup after he’d gotten out of hospital at his mother’s request.
They continued on their walk home, now tainted with worry that only worsened as another ambulance and a police car sped past them. Still, excitement for the dinner was still at the forefront of their minds. Hope Lupin was an incredible cook. Tonight was lasagne, not the most complex of dishes but definitely the tastiest, at least in Remus’ opinion. He chose it as his birthday meal every year and would always have seconds. They’d make it last through the week because Hope would make it in the biggest pan they had and Remus would never grow sick of it. He didn’t think it was even possible.
As they approached their two houses, Marlene’s chihuahua could be heard barking at the window and the car that normally lived on Remus’ drive was missing so they both went through the gate to Marlene’s front garden, cutting across the grass but being careful to avoid the border of flowers that were Mrs McKinnon’s pride and joy. The way they had to stretch their legs to not tread on them was second nature at this point, as was the way Quaffle’s yapping could be heard through the window.
The moment they crossed the threshold into the house, Remus knew something was wrong. Mrs McKinnon wasn’t there to greet them the was she usually was, with tea and smiles. It wasn’t until they’d taken their shoes off and shook the remaining sand off their feet that Remus could hear the sound of talking upstairs. It was faint, probably from one of the two bedrooms but Marlene stomped up the stairs pulling Remus with her.
At the top of the stairs they were faced with Mrs McKinnon leaving her bedroom, at first glance she seemed to be okay, maybe in a hurry but nothing much more however, the moment she took one look at Remus, her bottom lip started to tremble.
“Remus, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. There’s been an accident.” Tears started to fall from eyes, it remined Remus of when his mum would watch the adverts for charities on tv and she would cry at the sight of the children. “It was a car crash.” A terrible noise followed this. As though Mrs McKinnon was being choked by what she had to say. “Your parents were involved.” At this she started crying properly, like she’d said it all, but Remus was overcome with a freezing confusion.
“Are they okay” Remus said but it felt far away, like he was watching the part of the movie meant to make people cry.
“Darling I’m so sorry. There were no survivors.”