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"I'm the Marvellous Mr. Lupin, here to dazzle with feats of magic you'll have to see to still not believe! Who's ready to have some fun?"
The magician visibly deflates as scattered, unenthusiastic applause sounds through the conference room. Sirius almost feels bad for the man. There are probably few jobs more bleak than providing entertainment for a corporate networking event where everybody just wants to get drunk at the lobby bar or go to their room for a luxurious hotel wank that won't get interrupted by their kids. It's sort of the man's own fault for taking the gig, though. Kids' parties probably have a much more enthusiastic audience. Maybe Sirius should get his card and hire him for Harry's birthday.
"Alright, cheers," Lupin grumbles half under his breath, like he forgot his mic was on. Sirius lets out a loud bark of laughter—the wry defeat really got to him; he couldn't help it—and the man flushes a soft pink under the hotel's sorry excuse for stage lights. He's kind of cute, actually, in a bedraggled kitten sort of way. A few strands of hair stick to his sweaty forehead, his eyes are wide and frightened, and the only excuse for his worn jumper to be so oversized and bulky is if the sleeves hold an endless strand of scarves. Everything about him looks soft and a little helpless, an impression that doesn't go away as he starts the show.
Mr. Marvellous clears his throat and tries again. "F-for my first trick, I'll need a volunteer from the audience."
The only response is the sound of the ventilation system kicking on.
"This poor bastard," James mutters into Sirius's ear.
Sirius nods. "This is painful. I kind of want to put him out of his misery."
"Nobody?" Lupin asks, his voice rising to a near-whine.
Finally, Charlie, the new intern who has a far gentler soul than Sirius expected for a kid built like a brick shit house, raises his hand. Lupin pushes up his sleeves, grabs a deck of cards from a black silk bag on the conference centre's podium, pulls Charlie on stage, and performs a run of the mill card trick. It is flawlessly executed. Sirius hasn't the foggiest how he did it, which is actually more impressive given the distinct lack of fanfare in the show. There's no place for him to pull a card from a sleeve or hide a marked deck, yet Sirius can't find the break in perception that allows the trick.
The rest of the audience clearly isn't as impressed as Sirius is, given the tepid applause. Charlie resumes his seat, and Lupin follows him off the stage to do some crowd work. He approaches a table in the front but far enough to the side they likely hoped to escape notice.
"Hello, miss. May I get your name, please?"
"Dorcas," she answers in an unenthusiastic monotone.
Sirius internally cringes. Dorcas is great, she's one of Sirius's favourite coworkers, but her humour is bone dry and she'll think it's hilarious to fuck with him.
"And Dorcas, have you and I ever met before?"
He'll be making some predictions, then, if he's trying to establish they don't know each other.
"Yes," Dorcas deadpans, sounding vaguely puzzled by such a ridiculous question. "In the hallway before the show."
The Marvellous Mr. Lupin's jaw drops in an expression of utter betrayal. Sirius can see him starting to hyperventilate from halfway across the room.
His kicked puppy expression must work on her, too; her lips twitch in and out of the the slightest smirk before she takes pity on him. "No, of course we haven't." She turns to the room and gives a little wave. "Hi, I'm Dorcas, I work in data analytics and I don't know this man."
Lupin's mic picks up a little huff of relieved laughter before he resumes his trick. "Okay, Dorcas, could you help me out? I want you to think of a number between 1 and 100."
Dorcas is a good sport and works with him, and Lupin seems to settle into his act. He gets through the next ten minutes largely unscathed, crisscrossing the room a few times and pulling progressively larger items out of his tiny black bag, before getting back up on stage. The audience is finally warming up to him when disaster strikes.
"During every show, I like to take a selfie with the crowd," he announces and pulls his phone from his pocket. Lupin presses the power button on the side and makes a point to show the dark screen to the audience. "Drat, the blasted thing is dead again." He casts an eye over the front couple of rows before selecting a victim. "Ma'am, would you mind coming up to give me a hand?"
"Who, me?" asks a high, cloyingly sweet voice.
"Oh no," James whispers as Dolores, the nightmarish admin assistant who is constantly on a power trip, totters up the three steps to the stage. "Anybody else, Mr. Marvellous, please."
Sirius cringes. "No, he has to, she's already up there. He's committed, the poor sod."
Indeed, the Marvellous Mr. Lupin does not pick someone else. "Thank you, miss…" he prompts Dolores for her name.
"Senior Assistant to the Chief Executive Officer, Dolores Umbridge," she simpers, grabbing as much power as she can get her grubby little hands on, as usual.
Lupin bites his lip—adorable, Sirius thinks—and asks, "Might I be so bold as to call you Dolores?"
"Ms. Umbridge is fine," Dolores says. Sirius rolls his eyes so hard it gives him a headache.
"Right," Lupin nods, his smile faltering. "Ms. Umbridge, I believe you have a cell phone with you? Unless you're the only person left on the planet without one, of course."
"Of course I have a phone," Dolores chides as though Lupin is a foolish child questioning the competency of the grown ups. She uses that tone on Harry every time he waits for Sirius or James to finish up at the office before heading home. Usually to accuse him of lying about why he's there, the miserable old bat. "What kind of an assistant would I be if I weren't readily available at all times?"
"One with a fucking life," Sirius mumbles under his breath.
Lupin looks very much like he regrets his choice of audience member for this particular trick, but he soldiers ahead. "Excellent. In that case, would you mind if I borrow your camera for a moment?"
"I suppose, if you must," Dolores agrees with the air of someone providing a great favour. "It's right—oh!" Umbridge shrieks as she catches sight of her phone's lock screen.
"Is something wrong?" Lupin asks with a faux-innocent grin.
"You've been in my things! That's invasion of privacy!" Dolores shouts, her face turning tomato red with rage. "You've changed my background to a picture of yourself! There are confidential files in my emails! You could have looked through my banking information!"
"Now, hold on a moment," Lupin says, his sneaky pride rapidly morphing to panic. "It's nothing like—"
Dolores gasps and clutches her hand to her chest. "You could have found my home address! You could show up unannounced, uninvited, unwanted…" She's really milking it for all its worth, lip trembling as Lupin tries to steer the show back under control.
Sirius can't take it. "What do you think he's going to do, steal your cat decor?" he shouts toward the stage. "Nobody wants your puss, Dolores!"
There's a gasp and a titter led by James, who is doubled over in his chair trying to stifle his laughter. Lupin flicks Sirius a grateful smile—adorable—and sends Umbridge back to her seat. By the time the show moves on, James has gotten himself under control. "So you'll be seeing HR before noon on Monday?"
"Who, Neil?" Sirius snorts. "Blow me."
James laughs again, a mean snicker that draws looks from the next table over. "Make sure to tell him that, it'll definitely help your case."
"What are they gonna do, fire me?" Sirius makes a wanking motion under the table. This job is a soul-sucking slog filled with energy vampires anyway. The only reason he still works here is because James does, and Sirius would rather be bored at work with James than bored at home by himself.
James snorts. "Toff."
"Prat." Sirius waves him off and goes back to watching the performance. Lupin really is quite technically talented. He's just terribly lacking in showmanship. He's too reserved, too straightforward in his delivery. There's no drama. No banter. Nothing really designed to entertain. Sirius watches as he sinks up to his armpit in his black bag, wiggling around the pouch as though it's not an obviously false bottom he's reaching through. It would be funny if he sold the slapstick a bit more.
Lupin bites his lip in effort—adorable—before coming up with a matchbook. "Aha!"
Sirius chuckles at the feigned enthusiasm. He's annoyed with himself for how charmed he is by this man. Is he really sitting here thinking about how cute a magician is?
He is, unfortunately, and it doesn't wane as the show goes on. If anything, it gets worse. By the time Lupin asks for another volunteer, Sirius is on the edge of his seat. He shoots his hand in the air and is met with a delighted grin.
"Sure, gorgeous. Come on up."
The lights are warmer than Sirius expects. He's sweating in a matter of moments.
"What's your name?" Lupin's warm, brown eyes bore into Sirius's, and he forgets they're in a room full of his colleagues.
"Sirius," he rasps. He hears a snicker that sounds suspiciously like James and clears his throat. "Sirius Black." He turns to the crowd and gives them a little wave. There's a hoot from the back that is definitely James.
Lupin's lips pull into a smirk. "Nice to meet you Sirius. Tell us a little about yourself."
"I'm 33, 6'2", based in York, animal lover, Scorpio," he rattles off, fighting down a smile when Mr. Marvellous's brow quirks.
"Single?"
Sirius nods.
Lupin lets out a low hum that sends tingles down Sirius's spine. "For this demonstration, we'll need a card of some sort. Library card, business card, credit card if you're feeling bold."
Sirius takes out his wallet and considers his options before deciding fuck it. "I have my room key?"
"That'll work," Lupin says with an arched brow and a little extra flush in his cheeks.
He does some trick where he cuts up Sirius's card and puts it back together again, and once again Sirius has no idea how he does it. He should be able to tell, too, because he cannot peel his eyes away from the man's hands. Truly, they are obscene.
"Would you mind helping me with my next trick, since you're here?" Lupin asks.
"It'd be my pleasure," Sirius says as he accepts his card back. "What do you need this— oh." Sirius barks a laugh as he pulls a white piece of paper from his wallet that definitely wasn't in there before. Sirius feels his cheeks flush crimson as he reads the chicken-scratch Biro wrapped around his cash.
If you think my hands are magic, you should see what my mouth can do.
His eyes snap to Lupin, who is holding out a £100 note and looking equal parts smug and sheepish. "Everything okay, Sirius? Is something amiss?"
Sirius glances as the slip again, just long enough to notice the phone number before he counts out the cash and finds himself £100 short. The other side of the paper has "IOU £20 £100" written in thick, black letters. A quick wink and a nod from The Marvellous Mr. Lupin tells him to show it to the crowd. Sirius does with a sheepish smile.
The crowd claps, more invested than they've been thus far, as Lupin grins. He eyes the audience and says in a stage whisper, "I normally only take a £20, but this one only has big bills."
That gets a roar from the audience, which leaves Lupin looking rather pleased with himself and Sirius with a pleasant flutter in his stomach.
"Thank you for the help, Sirius," Lupin smiles, offering his money back. Sirius waves him off and tucks his wallet back into his pocket, hoping nobody notices that he keeps the IOU note.
When he slides back into his seat, James is all over him. "What happened? Why do you look so bloody chuffed?"
"'Twas magic, James" Sirius grunts. "Weren't you watching?"
"I'm watching you act like a grumpy git, though it's not like that's unusual," James says. "What's that? What do you have?" He snatches the slip Sirius just removed from his wallet and reads it. "Oh my god, are you going to text him?" James asks around a chortle.
"Sod off," Sirius grumbles, taking it back so he can enter the number in his phone. "I was going to hire him for your kid's birthday, but you can kiss any planning help goodbye."
"While you're trying to kiss the magician, more like," James rolls his eyes. "Please. We both know that, left to our own devices, Lily will want something reasonable so as to not spoil him rotten, and I'll agree with her. The only way he's getting a magician or a bloody…pony or something is if you bring it, and we all know you can't help yourself, mate."
"Sorry I think it's important for my godson to feel special on his birthday. Fuck me very much, I guess," Sirius pouts, seizing the opportunity to divert James's attention away from the new number in his phone with both hands.
"You're so full of shit," James sighs and shakes his head. They bicker through the rest of the show, which includes zero scarves pulled from Lupin's voluminous sleeves and a surprisingly lifelike stuffed black cat erupting from Minerva-from-Product-Design's jacket pocket. He traverses the room a few more times, weaving between the tables, as he wraps up his set. Sirius is briefly put on the spot again when, as his grand finale, Lupin has Al Moody, the company's gruff COO, pick a card.
"And Mr. Moody, is this your card?" Lupin asks, displaying a one-eyed jack of spades.
"No," Moody responds, arms crossed and looking highly unamused.
"Oh," Lupin says, head tilted curiously. "How about this one?" Another jack, diamonds this time.
"Wrong face card, laddie, and not even the right colour."
"Ah. I may have misplaced it, my mistake." Lupin says with a somewhat embarrassed smile. "Let me just try…Minerva, could you please check the cuff of your left sleeve?"
Minerva pulls a queen of diamonds from the wrist of her blazer.
"Oh, that's still not quite it, is it?" Lupin frowns. "Sirius, under the front left leg of your chair?"
Sirius reaches down and pulls a card from under his seat. He holds up the king of spades.
"Getting warmer, but I still don't believe that's it, is it, Mr. Moody?"
Al shakes his head. Lupin proceeds to cycle through every person who has participated in the show in reverse order (though he skips over Delores, and Sirius is delighted to see the affronted look on her face at the exclusion). They all remove cards from increasingly unlikely locations until finally Charlie, the first person brave enough to volunteer, pulls a queen of clubs that had been folded up under the tag of his shirt.
"Yes, laddie, you know that's the one," Moody growls before Lupin even has a chance to ask. "Well done."
Lupin huffs a laugh and takes a bow. "Alright then. On that note, I think we're ready to end the performance. Thank you for coming to the show, thank you to Aschwinder & Bautruckle, Inc. for having me, and thank you to everyone who participated. If anyone would like any additional demonstrations, I'll be happy to stay to do more magic for as long as you'll have me. Have a good night, everyone, and enjoy the rest of your conference."
Lupin turns off his microphone and steps off the stage with little fanfare as a smattering of applause follows him.
James nudges Sirius' shoulder and nods at the magician. "Well, then. Go on."
Sirius hums. "In a bit. He looks busy."
"Sure, mate. Whatever you say. I'm going back to my nice, empty hotel room. I've got a porpoise in the stocks up there."
"Porpoise in the…" Sirius murmurs, then barks a laugh. "Oh my god, are you saying you're going to flog the dolphin?"
James grins and makes a lewd gesture that morphs into a wave as he leaves.
Sirius considers following his example. The other coworkers he likes have already left, he has a whodunnit upstairs that's reaching the reveal stage, and he can think of few people more embarrassing to be attracted to than a close up magician,for god's sake. Besides, he has the Marvellous Mr. Lupin's number, anyway. If he's really going to swallow his pride and fuck a guy who probably calls himself an illusionist or some shit, he can start it in the privacy of his own hotel room.
Except…the Marvellous Mr. Lupin is very cute, even in the awful, flickering fluorescents of the conference room. And his eyes keep glancing toward Sirius over the shoulders of the people who have approached him after the show. And it might be a little tacky to order a man like room service when he's at a work event; he should at least have the decency to pretend he's not an utter slag when he's on a business trip.
Sirius sighs and stands. Who is he kidding?
Lupin's eyes meet his over the shoulder of Albus Dumbledore, the company's CEO, who has been monopolizing his attention for the last ten minutes. Dumbledore was probably the one who requested a magician, now that Sirius thinks about it. He's a quirky man who dresses in vibrant, clashing star-spangled patterns and keeps a ready supply of boiled sweets on his desk. This is exactly the type of thing he'd like, as evidenced by his request to show Lupin a card trick of his own before Moody finally pulls him aside.
"Let's give these boys some space, Al," Moody says gruffly, ushering Dumbledore away. "I need to do a sweep of the room anyway. I thought I saw one of those bastards from Asphodyl & Wyrmwood in the back. Probably here to steal company secrets."
Lupin tries to muffle a guffaw as he watches them go.
"They're just as strange in the office, believe it or not," Sirius offers, sidling up to him.
"I believe it," Lupin says, shaking his head like he's trying to knock a thought loose. "Hello again. I hope you didn't mind my joke about your wallet. It may have been in poor taste."
Sirius waves him off. "No, it was funny. Most of that room either hates me or knows me well enough to take the piss about it anyway. No worries, mate."
"Oh, thank god," Lupin huffs. "This was only my third show, and I'm still figuring out some of those things."
Well, that explains a lot. Sirius isn't going to be a complete prick about it, though. "I thought you seemed a bit nervous at first, but it went well. Other than Dolores being an utter bitch, of course."
"Oh my god," Lupin gasps. "Is she always like that?"
"Unfortunately, yes. My friend James and I once drew fake moustaches on the cat figurines on her desk and she sent a complaint to HR. It was dry erase, for god's sake, they washed right off." She couldn't prove anything so they hadn't even gotten a slap on the wrist, but it was a ridiculous overreaction either way. Sirius shrugs. "You did her a favour, really. She'll have all kinds of puffed up complaining to do and policies to amend next week. This is her Eurovision."
Lupin snorts. "Well, my apologies to the rest of you."
"We're used to it," Sirius shrugs. "So, do you have a first name, or will Mr. Marvellous suffice?"
"Remus," Lupin says, his cheeks colouring slightly. "Though I won't object to the other if that's what you prefer."
"Mr. Marvellous is nice, but it is rather a mouthful," Sirius smirks. Lupin chokes on his own spit. "How'd you get into this line of work, Remus?"
"Classic tale of a misspent youth, obviously," Remus says with a wink. It has the cadence of a joke, of self-awareness at how unlikely that must seem on the surface, but it feels like the truth masquerading as a lie. Sirius arches his brow, prodding Lupin to expand. "It's the only job I've ever found where when you pick people's pockets, they clap and let you keep the money as a tip afterwards."
Sirius barks a loud laugh and bumps his shoulder against Remus's. "You should put that in the act."
"Put what in the act?"
"That joke!" Sirius says. "It's clever, it's true, and it acknowledges the awkwardness of everyone knowing you're working for tips so we can all move past it. Get it out of the way and the crowd will warm right up."
"Oh, right. I suppose that's true," Remus agrees, though he looks rather put out.
"Not that you weren't great!" Sirius is quick to correct himself. He'd just looked so sad. "You're very, very good at sleight of hand. You would have made an excellent Victorian orphan."
"What?" Remus asks through a surprised chuckle.
"I believe you about the pickpocket thing. Those big, innocent eyes of yours? They'd never suspect until you were miles away with their purse." Sirius is talking absolute rot at this point, but Remus is smiling and ducking his head all shy and modest, so it must be working.
He's blushing furiously when he tries to route the conversation back to marginally less flirtatious territory. "So you like me just fine," he begins, which Sirius meets with a broad grin. "But the show itself…?"
Sirius has to school his expression into something that isn't a grimace.
"Like I said…you're very good at magic." Sirius can barely believe he's saying those words, much less meaning them sincerely.
"But…?"
"But your showmanship is a bit lacking, love." Sirius offers it as an apology.
"I try to let the magic speak for itself!" Lupin argues, smiling like he knows the statement is ridiculous.
"Unless you're planning to add some ventriloquism to your cards"—oh please, god, no; Sirius's pride can't handle being attracted to a magician and a ventriloquist—"you'll need to provide a bit more of a voice for it." Sirius shrugs. "I can't imagine that will be too difficult for you. You're rather charming." He's thrilled when Remus blushes to the tips of his ears. "If this is only your third show, what were the first two? Why'd you take such a big booking so early?"
"The money was better than the kids' birthdays I've done before, believe it or not," Remus explains wryly.
Sirius's mind floats back to the £100 lifted from his own wallet. "The tips are probably better, too."
"You'd be surprised, actually." When Sirius gives him an incredulous look, Remus's deadpan expression cracks into a smile. "I've gotten some really cool rocks. Little plastic animals, an actual live toad once, a few biscuits. Some of them weren't even half eaten!"
Sirius lets out a loud, surprised laugh. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. It's actually very sweet when kids are willing to share their treasures with you. Even if they are sometimes mushy biscuits that have been nibbled around the edges."
Sirius bites his lip against the smile that's threatening to take over his face. "I'll keep that in mind the next time my godson offers me his lolly. It's not spit-covered hard sugar. It's a treasure!"
"See? You get it," Remus grins.
God, he's cute. He's so, so cute.
"So, how long are you on the clock?" Sirius asks, trying to force himself to switch from over-eager puppy mode to something a little sexier.
"Until people stop tipping me, I suppose."
That is as good of an answer as Sirius could hope for, he thinks. "If I double what you've made in tips so far, will you leave right now and get a drink with me?"
Remus laughs. "I'm not sure if you can afford the…" He checks the black silk bag next to him on the table. "£6 I've made in the last half hour. How about I let you buy me a drink and we'll call it even?"
Sirius smiles. "It's a date."