Bewitched | wolfstar au

Eighty-nine

When Remus walks into Miss Hall's backroom, he's not expecting much. It's usually when he walks out of it that he's met with something unexpected, that something usually being Sirius waiting for him. The most Remus has ever been surprised is that one time when Miss Hall thought it would be a good idea to have a carved pumpkin stuck on a broom right in front of the fireplace.

Either way, he's not expecting anyone. And he's definitely not expecting his mother.

"Mom?" he frowns, rushing towards his mother who couldn't look more incongruent standing in Miss Hall's haphazardly 'organized' back room. She's paler than Remus would want her to be, and for the first time in his entire life, she doesn't break into a wide smile upon seeing him. As she pulls him down so that she can hug him, Remus wonders if his father is dead.

Since when has he started thinking in a manner so horribly pessimistic?

"I was so, so worried," Hope says, letting Remus go and taking a good look at him, like she used to do when he would go back home from Hogwarts for the holidays. Except now, he's taller than her and she has to crane her neck up to look at his face. "I thought you were hurt, Remus. Why didn't you pick up my calls?"

Remus frowns. "You called?"

"As soon as your father showed me the papers," she replies. Remus almost cringes when he realizes that those missed calls the day before were not from Sirius but from his mom.

"Mom, I'm so sorry," he whispers, bending down to kiss her head. "I didn't know it was you. When did you get here?" Remus pauses then, frowning. "How did you get here?"

"Floo-ed to Diagon Alley, sweetie. And then we took a cab from there,"

Remus goes to nod before he realizes that his mom can't Floo anywhere. And 'we'? "Is..." he swallows, "Is dad here?"

Remus isn't sure what exactly he feels when Hope nods in response, a small, reassuring smile on her face. "Come on," she smiles at him, taking his hand. He gives her a tight smile, his throat too dry to formulate any verbal response.

Remus walks behind her, wishing he could just disappear. When was the last time he even spoke to his father? He can't remember. He can't even remember when he last saw him. Not in the past two years, that's for sure.

When they eventually enter the shop proper, Remus stops walking, frozen by the sheer shock of seeing his father. Lyall Lupin is where Remus gets his height from, and even among the dauntingly tall bookshelves, he still stands out. Remus remembers him as a well-built man, broad shoulders and all. But years of drinking has stripped the muscle from his frame. He looks old and he looks sick. His clothes are old, too. A big coat Remus remembers he used to wear to work at the Ministry, once well-fitted on him but now only serving to make him look frail with how it hangs past his shoulders.

"Remus," he looks relieved, no doubt, as he walks over. Remus lets his father pull him into a hug, but he can't bring himself to hug back. When Lyall pulls away, he doesn't remove his hands from Remus' shoulders. He looks Remus over, in the same way that Hope did just a few moments ago. "You're not hurt, are you, son?"

Remus wishes he could hurl something like Don't call me your son at his father, but he can't. It's not that Lyall doesn't care. He does, Remus knows that. It's why he drank himself to... to an unemployed shell of a man too scared to love his wife and his son.

It's just that it's easier to pretend your parents don't care than admit that they do care but don't let it show. It's easier to pretend that they hate you than admit that they're just bad at showing how much they love you.