"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same" - Emily Bronte
Saturday, September 11th, 1977
I don't like the way the world works for me, honestly. I know it's only logical, really I do. It makes sense to me in every way, but that doesn't mean I hate it any less.
Money was always an issue, growing up. My brother and I, we had a good life, just one without the things we needed, and being half-bloods didn't help a thing.
Mum works for an insurance agency, Dad's always been a drunk, and that leaves Remus and I without two sickles to rub together most of the time. Mum tries to send us money sometimes, but she usually mixes up muggle money and wizarding money, so I've got a stash of Euros and not a single Knut.
Remus has rich friends.
I don't have rich friends.
I have Seraphina Pettigrew and Davie Joseph, neither of whom are even close to wealthy, and as such, we need spending money.
That's why I've found myself where I am right now, inside of the Three Broomsticks, looking for a Saturday job. It's the only day we're allowed to come to hogsmeade, which isn't ideal for a job, but it'll have to do. Seraphina works at Honeydukes and has since third year, and I used to work at Madam Puddifoot's until my brother caused trouble with his friends and got me fired.
"Ophelia, right?" An older woman with fiery, slightly graying hair questions me as I walk into the inn, questioning once again if this is a good idea when several eyes land on me from across the room.
"Yes, Ophelia Lupin, it's nice to meet you." I say politely, offering her my hand to shake before taking a seat at the bar-stool she points out.
"Wonderful, I'm Rosmerta, I own this fine establishment." She says sarcastically, gesturing over to a cracked window that looks out over Hogsmeade. "Can you serve drinks?"
"Yes, I'm 16."
"Wonderful, you're hired. Saturdays, eight to three?"
"Perfect." I agree immediately, startled by the abruptness of the meeting. I'm sure she's used to hiring kids from Hogwarts at this point, though I'm a bit surprised by the lack of questions.
"Philia!!" My brother shouts from across the bar, clearly annoyed about something or other. Several people glance up at him in confusion or look around the bar in search of who he's yelling at.
Lowering my head in embarrassment, I rush over to the table that holds my brother and his best friends, not caring to know what he finds so important that he's insistent on shouting at me but knowing full and well that he'll have my head if I make a run for it.
"What is it, Rem?" I question, shoving his friend Sirius over a bit so I can sit beside my brother and grabbing his glass of firewhiskey, downing it and ignoring the glare I receive from my brother and the scoff from his friend. The liquor stings my throat as it goes down, and the warmth of it is welcome in every way. The rush it brings to my head is heavenly.
"What are you doing here? This is a pub. And don't drink that stuff, it isn't good for you." He says as if it isn't obvious. James sniggers at his friend lightly, the joyous sound making the air just a bit lighter, though I find myself glaring at him either way.
"I work here. I was just hired." I explain. "Now if that's all, I'm gonna go."
"That most certainly is not all!" He insists as I grab James' cup as well, downing the half-gone shot of Firewhiskey that he was clearly sipping on.
"Got enough alcohol there, cupcake, or should we order another round?" James mocks, receiving a punch on the arm from Remus.
"Don't encourage her!"
"What do you want, Remus?" I interject, expecting some sort of explanation for why I'm sitting on a musty, uncomfortable bench pinned in between him and his friend while I could be doing anything else.
"I want to know what my little sister is doing working at a bar!"
"It's work, I need money, I think you can connect the dots, Rem." I explain simply, expecting nothing more than for him to think of me as such an immature person as he seems to. My brother is many things, my twin (born almost exactly seven minutes before me, and he'll never let me forget it), my self proclaimed protector, and the person I love most on this plane of existence. Not that I'll ever tell him that, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him. Truly, I love my brother more than anything, it's just that he's the most annoyingly protective person alive. Sure, he has his reasons, but that doesn't make it any less annoying. "And yes, I'd love another round, Potter."
"Absolutely, hey Rose! Could we get another round?" He questions as the older woman walks past from another table, hands filled with dishes and a smile on her face. The woman chuckles and waves him off, muttering something to James about not telling McGonagall about this.
"Prongs!" My brother chastises in a whispered tone, leaning over to cuff his friend over the head. "I said don't encourage her!"
"Well I wanted a drink, Moony. If I need remind you, we're meant to be here drowning away our sorrows, not screwing with your sister."
"This is exactly why I don't want her working here, they serve far too much alcohol." Remus insists, forcing out a huff at the thought. I know he worries more about alcohol than I do, it's always been the case given the frequency of James and Sirius' visits to the pub, and Dad's issues, obviously.
"I won't be drinking, Rem, I'll be working."
"You say that as if you didn't just take two shots of firewhiskey." He says, a hand slipping down over his face and rubbing at his forehead for a moment, clearly worried.
"A shot and a half, and it's the first time I've touched the stuff since June, it'll be okay. I'm not even tipsy, just a little buzzed. Firewhiskey isn't the strongest liquor on the shelf, you know that."
~☾~
After finishing off another shot of firewhiskey and downing a glass of water– upon my brother's insistence –I find myself back in the common room alongside the two people who make this hellish school bearable for me.
Seraphina and Davie. Seraphinas' in the year below Davie and I, so we really only get to see her during meals and at night. Davie and I have a few classes together, but he usually spends his time in the greenhouse when he can.
Which usually leaves me alone. Which I don't mind– Really I don't, I just prefer to be beside my best friends, that's all.
"You smell like firewhiskey." Sera states, wrinkling up her nose slightly and wafting her book at me, trying to get the smell away from her. Without hesitation, I jump over her lap and hug my arms around her waist, refusing to let go as she breaks out laughing, trying to swing me off of her somehow. Davie chuckles lightly from the other side of the couch, pulling my ankles over his lap in an attempt to keep me from accidentally kicking him.
"I take it you got the job, then?" He questions me once Sera is done fake gagging as I blow my liquor-breath in her face. "And quit torturing Phi!"
"Never!"
"So did you?" Ser questions me, shoving my face away as I finally let go of her waist in favor of dropping my head in her lap. She immediately begins to section my hair to braid a small chunk.
"'Course I did."
"I'm glad, I can't be the only one busy on Hogsmeade days, it would be terribly sad." She says, chuckling as Davie drops his arm over her shoulders.
"Don't you worry, Ser, I'm the only one alone on saturdays."
"Bullshit! You and Parkinson are on each other every single second on those trips." I say, referencing the slytherin girl he's become so close with over the summer. They did an internship together with some astronomer in London and have been together ever since. "And anyways, it's not like you couldn't get a job if you want it. I hear Zonko's is hiring again."
"I would, but I don't wanna." He complains, grinning down at me as Serephina accidentally pulls my hair and I let out an unintentional yelp of pain and annoyance.
"Ow, Phina!" I complain as she yanks again, this time startled by the sound of four boys toppling off the back of a couch all at once and laughing maniacally. Peter is the first to stand up, sending us a grin from across the room as he somersaults over the side of the tattered red couch and onto a cushion.
"Idiots. They're gonna get themselves hurt." She mutters to herself as she watches her cousin topple around, landing on top of his three friends resulting in a groan of protest from James, the one who took the brunt of the force– including his elbow to the gut, which I'm sure he'll be feeling later.
"It does look like fun though, doesn't it?" Davie questions, patting my calf before shoving my legs off his lap and kneeling on the floor. "One, two, three!" He says, and before Sera can stop him, he's on his back having flipped over and rolled. I would call it a somersault if I could, but it was more of a flop onto the hardwood than anything.
"Nice one, Joseph!" Sirius shouts at him before diving on top of my brother on the couch, distracted once again with the roughhousing.
"That was terrible." Phina states simply, continuing to braid my hair after a moment of staring at her best friend, who's not rubbing at the back of his head to alleviate the pain of smacking it against the floor. Once he's finished, he glances up at me hopefully, but he deflates a bit seeing the barely-hidden laugh I'm holding back at his misfortune.
"At least you didn't crack your head open." I say, only half joking. Remus managed to fracture his skull once in fourth year and I've been worried about it ever since, given just how often the boy get's injured. Being friends with James and Sirius is one thing when it comes to the injuries, but being a werewolf is worse. Every single month I'm in the infirmary taking care of him.
I love my brother more than anything, I truly do, but he's a klutz and a werewolf and he has the most annoyingly thoughtless friends in all of Europe, I'm sure. It's a miracle he doesn't have brain damage from the number of times he's hurt himself.
After a few moments of quiet deliberation, accompanied by a few huffs and groans from Davie, I decide to make my way upstairs to the girls dorm. Bidding my friends goodbye– and nearly falling on my face at the top of the stairs after catching my foot on the landing– I finally make it up to the room I share with a few other Gryffindor girls, none of which I know very well. Grabbing a few items from my trunk and forcing my shoes off in a rather violent manner (I launched one across the room, and lets just say it's a good thing the glass here is basically indestructible, because gryffindor tower would be out a window it it weren't), I make my way into the bathroom and barely manage to make it through the shower before falling asleep curled up on top of my blankets, something i'm sure to regret in the morning.
~☾~
"Please don't!" The little girl shouts as a claw rakes over her side, a blinding pain taking over as she shakes and wiggles, trying to get out of the hands of the monster.
She's four years old.
The scars will never go away.
Her big brother is asleep across the room, out like a log like he almost always is. He's a deep sleeper, and that's never been such a terrible thing for her as it is now.
The wolf catches her sights, turning slightly to find an even better candidate than what he'd thought she was.
Remus John Lupin screams in pain as the werewolf's jaw closes on his arm, his venom sinking in and forcing the boy into a painful waking, one he never wanted to be in. Before he can even open his eyes, the wolf is gone and the young boy is faced with only his sister, screaming in pain, covered in blood.
Her eyes widen immediately as his hands come down on her shoulders, one coated in his own blood. Both twins are crying hysterically, neither understanding what happened, let alone that neither would ever manage to get over it.
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