remus j lupin

Usually, Katherine would’ve rejected the male’s offer, and claimed she didn’t need it. But it was Jackson, and she was desperate. He could have connections that proved useful. “Fine. But don’t walk too close to me — you reek of wet dog.”

Matt raised his eyebrows, but didn’t question it properly, assuming he’d figure out what the man was on about soon enough. “Too bright for your tastes?” He smiled. He assumed the man wasn’t in the mindset to joke, but Matt couldn’t help but lighten the mood.

The noise from the stranger made Matt think he’d had his eyes closed, but he wasn’t going to ask. He was certainly used to those kind of reactions by now. “Sure, I’ll sit.” And Matt did, promptly, leaning his cane by his side against the chair. “Do you wanna talk about it? Your difficult night?” He was going to offer up his name, but the Catholic heart within him offered the stranger a chance to confess. If he wanted to keep things anonymous and just vent, Matt would be okay with that.

Remus couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him at the man’s first guess. His eyes slipped closed again as he rubbed at his temple. “D’you know, I’ve wondered before if the brightness isn’t the cause of my problems,” he sighed. He listened for the sound of the stranger settling in a chair next to him, and considered the offer cautiously.

For such a long time -- through his childhood, through the Marauders finding out -- he’d religiously guarded his status as a werewolf, fearful of people’s reactions. Things had, of course, proven so much simpler after Hogwarts, when it didn’t matter as much, but a small part of him continued to hesitate when confronted with the topic. The fact that his eyes were closed at the moment was actually a bit helpful. The silence stretched between them, only mildly uncomfortable, before Remus spoke up again. “I’m . . .a werewolf, you see. The full moon always affects me, but on occasion they’re worse than normal.” 

Carl gave him an incredulous look, as if offended by the question, like he wasn’t the one in the wrong. He knew he couldn’t tell the truth though, otherwise the man might make extra precaution to lock his room up. Or worse, Fiona would come down on him. “Um, well, I was just checking you weren’t dead. You weren’t moving, like, at all.”

Remus propped himself against the somewhat rickety headboard, and smiled faintly at the wounded expression on Carl’s face. It was impressive, just how quick the Gallaghers were on their feet at improvising when a situation turned on them.

Matt tilted his head in both interest and concern, wondering what was troubling the stranger. His swearing certainly hadn’t put it together. Realising he hadn’t said anything, Matt cleared his throat, hands wrapping around his cane. “Excuse me, are you alright? Did you just say ‘moons’?”

“I did, yes,” Remus managed, eyes still closed. “I’m finding them a bit of an annoyance, just now.” His eyebrows drew together in a wince. Whomever the voice belonged to, he didn’t recognize it, or the smell of the stranger. Couldn’t they see he just needed a moment? He opened his eyes -- ah. Well. No, they couldn’t see he just needed a moment.

Carl crept into their housemate’s room, assuming he was asleep. The man often was, as far as Carl could tell, or he just wasn’t there. It made the teenager’s desire to satiate his curiosity so much easier. Remus had all sorts of stuff in his room, stuff Carl had never seen before. He had an idea for an experiment, and needed a certain something. A small smile crossed his face when he believed the man to be fast asleep. Reaching out a hand to make sure of it, Carl jumped when he heard swearing, swearing himself. “What the fuck!?”

Remus blearily forced his eyes open at the rather more mature swearing, and leveled a look at the young man. He tried to adjust his features to indicate his genuine annoyance, but it was hard to do just now. Not that he believed Carl Gallagher, he of the extensive vocabulary and deft hand for pyrotechnics, would ever be particularly frightened of him. “That ... is an excellent question, if worded differently than I might have done.” He forced himself up into a sitting position, groaning when a sharp ache shot down his spine.

He would get up. He would. In a moment, when the room stopped spinning and his bones stopped aching.

Jesse wasn’t sure why the man had apologised – he was sure he sounded exactly the same, after all of the smoking. And he was the one trespassing. Although, the man apparently wasn’t the homeowner. Jesse glanced over his shoulder again, wondering just whose house he was sitting in front of. He didn’t think he’d been inside. At the mention of children though, Jesse took the clay bowl, and immediately put out the cigarette. “Yeah, right. Got it, yo.” He’d just have to move, if he could get his body to comply. No matter how bad he was feeling, he wouldn’t dare risk a child, angry mom or not.

“Uh,” Jesse cleared his throat. The man was a complete stranger, so he couldn’t help but feel surprised at the question. Plus, he wasn’t sure how to answer it. “I guess. Um.. are you?” He probably should’ve asked his name instead, but Jesse went with it.

"Hm? Oh, I’m fine, thank you.” Remus replied. He politely turned his face away from the bewildered look on the other man’s face, scanning the sky instead. His tone turned lightly self-mocking. “I’ve begun the somewhat eccentric hobby of pre-dawn birdwatching when I can’t sleep.” 

Remus: Good. Go ahead.