Find Me (Remus Lupin X Sirius Black)

Chapter One

"...which marks the anniversary of Sirius Black's disappearance. Truly a devastating day for all of Goodwellow."

The newscaster's voice echoed through my home. I cringed every time they talked about Sirius on the news—as if they knew him personally. Acting as if Sirius was a beloved boy. Nobody cared about his disappearance. Why else had they not found him yet?

I put my glasses down on the table in front of me. The TV light illuminated the room. The sound of the static and the rain outside was migraine-inducing. Most would find the noise comforting, but with everything on my mind, it was just aggravating.

"Remus, I swear to god if you don't turn that fucking telly off. Go to bed" My dad yelled from his bedroom down the hall. I looked at the time. 3:27am. He would have to be up for work in less than an hour. Maybe I should've taken that as a sign to go to bed, but I didn't.

I switched off the TV and flicked on the stove light. I stared at the bulletin board on my wall. I knew it was cliche to have a bulletin board with red string all across it—that's why my string was blue.

I was becoming hopeless in trying to find where Sirius went. The police had deemed him dead a week after he disappeared, but I still believed he was out there. I knew Sirius better than anybody. He was a bit of an extremist. He could survive wherever he was.

No matter how many times I looked at that board, no matter how often I endured sleepless nights thinking, I could never put any pieces together. Well, I could put together a few, but not anything important. I was hoping that I would someday look at the board and everything would come together, like in spy movies. It never happened for me. Just the same endless lack of clues.

"Still up? I told you to go to bed" My dad came out of his dingy bedroom and into the kitchen. I looked at the clock. Shit, I thought, I must have lost track of time again. It wasn't a rare occurrence. My dad was used to waking up and finding me sitting at our dining table, staring longingly at my bulletin board.

"You know," He started. Whenever he started talking like that, leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for his coffee pot to fill, he had a story to tell.

"I knew a guy who did all of this to try and track down an old girlfriend that left him for some merchant. He even bullied the station worker to give him the name she used for her train ticket. Oh, that bastard was down bad. Anyhow, he did all..this, that you're doing and he ended up driving himself mad. Got locked up in St. Larimpston."

By the time my dad was finished telling his story, his coffee was ready and going cold. He was very theatrical when he told stories. I appreciated it when I was younger, but after Sirius's disappearance, it's just annoying.

"Well, dad, I'm not gonna be the same. I'm gonna find him. Eventually.." My mind drifted off, my eyes darting back towards my bulletin.

"If you say so. If you're lucky, you might find his corpse and his family can throw him an actual funeral."

I hated when my dad said things like that. He always tried to tell me in a (not so) subtle way that Sirius was gone. I understood why. Some days I felt like an idiot still looking for him. I wouldn't ever stop, though. He was my best friend.

"You know damn well that Sirius's parents wouldn't bother with a funeral. They can afford it, sure, but they'd more likely host a cocktail party with a funeral theme!" I said, matching my dad's theatrical energy. As much as it annoyed me, I was my father's son.

"Eh, well. You're not totally wrong." My dad just stood there for a bit, drinking his coffee, still in his pajamas. It wasn't uncommon to see Lyall Lupin in his pajamas. He rarely wore proper clothes outside of work. To match his lazy look, his mousy brown hair was always ruffed up and untamed. Remus's wasn't much better. He never really learned how to tame his curls.

Eventually my dad's cup was empty and he had to get dressed. He was a factory worker, and despite what some people may say, it's hard labor without rewards. He had been working for the nail and screw factory in the next town over for almost twenty years, and still hardly made enough to cover rent and cable. Even after he worked 90 hour work weeks, he wouldn't make much more than he would usually with his 50 hour weeks.

"I won't be home tonight. Picked up an extra shift." He said as he gathered his keys and his hat. My head shot up from where it was laying on the table.

"Don't you also work tomorrow morning, though? When are you supposed to sleep?" I asked. My dad always overworked himself, and hated when I criticized him for it. Sometimes I wouldn't see him for two or more days, and when he came home he looked half dead—the colour drained completely from his face, his cheeks hollow, and was usually somewhat limp and walked like a zombie.

"I'll sleep after my shift. Like I usually do. I will be fine, Remus." He said firmly. He patted my shoulder like he did every day, and bid me goodbye. I watched through the window as his old Dodge Sweptline struggle to start and then drove away. I looked back at the clock, thought about going to bed. It was almost five in the morning. I thought it best.

I grabbed my glasses and my bulletin and resigned to my room. The walls were an ugly brown wallpaper that was peeling around the edges, the occasional cigarette burn mark near his window. The carpet was clean enough to not smell, but it wasn't anything perfect. There were a few stains surrounding my bed from spilling coffee during his long nights. My sheets weren't the most comfortable, but it was enough for me.