remus lupin is finally at peace. (moonstricken) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-02-06 13:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1980-02] february, ! npc, james potter, marlene lupin (née mckinnon), remus lupin |
Who: Remus Lupin, Genevieve Chevalier, James Potter, & Marlene Lupin.
What: Remus meets with Genevieve in disguise to try and get information out of her, while Marlene and James keep watch. Hilarity ensues.
When: 6 February 1980, at noon.
Where: Incantesimo, a classy wizarding Italian restaurant.
Status: Complete.
Rating: PG.
Genvieve knew that Lancelot had suggested noon but she needed to ensure that anyone coming to look for her would not spot her upon peeking in the door. She tipped the maitre'de heavily to ensure a small round booth near the rear of the restaurant. They would still be visible to several tables surrounding but someone coming in the front would not see them immediately. The booth also ensured a different kind of privacy, as well as a proximity that was to Genevieve's liking. She wasn't planning anything torrid but her pen pal had been kind to her and she would repay him with her own brand of kindness. It had taken not a small amount of effort on Genevieve's part to sneak out of her new flat that she shared with Julien in the outfit she currently had on. It had helped that she had been wearing a coat over the coral-coloured slip dress, but she knew Julien would have protested even if she explained that it was the very height of French fashion. She shrugged off her coat and cast a warming spell around the table so she wouldn't chill in the thin material. A surge of giddiness swept over her when she thought of Lancelot's likely reaction. Would he be shocked? Interested? Would he tell her she ought to put her jacket back on so she could storm out dramatically? Every scenario brought a new smile to her face as she waited. Hair charmed black, eyes green, and wearing a set of nice dress robes he had borrowed from James, Remus walked into the restaurant, attempting to pretend like he fit in perfectly with the rest of the crowd. He spoke to the maitre'de first, asking if Genevieve had already arrived and was waiting for him at a table, and he led Remus to the table near the back in which Genevieve was sitting. He smiled at her, his eyes flicking briefly to notice that the table was set up for them to sit side by side instead of across from her -- oh, boy. Marlene was not going to like this. "Genevieve, it has been so long since I've last seen you -- and you look even more beautiful than I remember," he said, greeting her by taking her hand in his and bending down until his lips barely touched the back of her hand. Slipping into the seat beside her, Remus kept his eyes on Genevieve so she wouldn't notice him trying to look if James and Marlene had made it in yet. "Lancelot," she said delightedly. "You told me you were ugly!" she protested, wrinkling her nose. "I spent all morning thinking of excuses to dismiss myself if you would embarrass me but you are quite handsome," she said, giving him a coy smile. "Why did you lie monsieur?" she asked curiously. She was staring intently into his eyes as she undid her napkin from her silverwear and placed it on her lap. She reached for his and quirked a smile at him as she undid his cutlery slowly and then pressed his napkin to his lap as well. She let her hand sit there far longer than was necessary by several seconds. She was leaning in toward him and her hand slid to his knee. "Do I have you for the afternoon?" she asked sweetly, her eyes crinkling innocently. Marlene liked to fancy herself as being decent at this "going undercover" thing. Of course, normally in situations like this, it involved tricking death eaters into giving up information and sneaking into clinics after hours. This whole watching her husband get himself groped by a walking STD was a whole different ball game. Literally, when one considered where Genevieve's hand seemed to be hovering. Marlene grabbed at James's arm, pulling him after the balding, snotty-looking waiter who was leading them to their table, stopping short at a spot where she was sure they'd have a better view of the shenanigans at the other table. "We'd like to sit at this one, thank you," Marlene told the waiter, pulling out one of the chairs and plopping down into it before the maitre'de could object. "Peach Bellini, please. On the rocks." Focused on Genevieve, Remus didn't notice when Marlene and James took their seats; instead, he was smiling at her and putting his hand over hers, making sure he could keep it from finding its way into his lap again. "If I recall correctly, it was you who said I was ugly," Remus said, keeping the tone of his voice light and teasing. "You have me all to yourself, all afternoon." He picked up one of the menus that were placed in front of them, opening it and trying not to wince at the prices of the food. "I know that you've been to England before, but have you ever eaten here? I fear it may not live up to the tastes of a woman of your standing, but with the short notice, this was the first place I thought of... and I've never eaten here myself," he said, making small conversation to start. "I said that?" she asked, giving him an apologetic giggle. "I would not say such things! Not to someone so kind and handsome. Perhaps you have me mistaken for another mademoiselle?" she asked. "We were wearing masks after all," she mused. "Still, I would not have let you go that evening if I had know what I was missing out on," she said. "Now, monsieur, you must tell me your name. I can not continue to call you Lancelot! It is strange," she said. "We are friends. You can confide in me. And at the wedding everyone will know you better than me, won't they?" she asked. "It is March 1 and I do hope you will come with me to make it tolerable? I hate her more every time we speak," she said before realising she hadn't answered his question. "Oh, and non, I have never eaten here but I do adore Italian food. I hope you will not think me unladylike but I prefer the more childish foods to the fancy ones," she admitted. "My parents and brother refuse to let me eat spaghetti," she complained. "Marius used to take me out and let me order it because he knew how I missed it." Her face turned sad at the mention of a fond memory of her friend. "That would only be fair, wouldn't it?" Remus said. "My name is -- Bradley Macmillan," faltering for only a second as he remembered the name he'd chosen; certainly he couldn't expect her to continue to call him Lancelot. "Escorting you to the wedding would be an honour, Genevieve. I find it admirable that you've agreed to be a member of the bridal party, despite your grievances toward the bride. It only goes to prove that you are a strong woman." Remus wished he wouldn't put himself in these situations. In hindsight, the plan seemed to simple, so easy, but it was too late to remember that he would have to deal with her hands in his lap and, inevitably, trying to avoid being kissed. "If you would like to have spaghetti, then that's exactly what you'll get. A man who would deny you anything would not be worthy of your company." Hearing her speak so kindly of Marius always threw him off -- Remus could only think of the man as a murderer, as a Death Eater, and nothing more -- but Genevieve recalled memories that portrayed him as more than just a Death Eater. But it didn't matter. It didn't excuse all the crimes he has committed, or forgive all the lives he has taken. When the waiter returned to take their orders, he placed his own and allowed Genevieve to order for herself, and when he was gone, Remus continued their conversation. "So, tell me -- as part of the bridal party, have you been asked to help with any of the tasks to prepare for the wedding?" "With the reception afterwards," Genvieve said. "Marius would not let her trust me with the more important details," she said with a slight smirk. "He knows me too well. So I have been relegated to flowers and favours. It is glamorous, non?" she asked sarcastically. Her lunch date was being so very kind to her that Genevieve could not help but be slightly swept up in it. "You know... Julien will be spending the night before with Marius so I will all on my own with a hotel room to myself. Perhaps you could help me with my wedding chores and then I could thank you afterword?" she asked. "The set up will be the evening before and no doubt I will be left to the entire thing myself because Narcissa and Chloris are above such things," she said adding an eye roll for good measure. "They think they are better than me because they are what? English?" she asked. "No offence mon cher, but France is the cradle of high society. London is beastly in comparison to Paris and in France my family name is second to none. They know nothing of fashion or art-- and Astra is the worst of them. She is low class. Poor. And her education is sadly lacking. She would be better suited to marry her cat." Remus neglected to comment on her words about Astra and France, turning to look at her. If what she was saying was true, that would be perfect -- but he doubted it could be that simple. He assumed she was exaggerating. "Would we really be alone -- just the two of us? There won't be house elves or hired help to set up for the wedding?" Genevieve gave her lunch date a patient smile. "They would be there earlier no doubt, but if I have a job to do I will not do it with the help," she said, as if it should have been obvious. "I will put out the non-perishables the night before and the edible things and their take home containers early the morning of the wedding. It should not take long, especially if a gentleman is helping me," she said. "You will, will you not? It will not harm your reputation, of course we will keep our friendship secret. Otherwise Julien and Marius would want to discuss things with you which would either end in a forced proposal or your body burning in a remote clearing," she said, sliding her hand up his leg again, this time more persistently. "It would be worth it though, oui?" she asked coyly. The breadstick that Marlene had been distracting herself with from her and James's table snapped loudly in half, the section of it that Marlene hadn't been gripping going flying off the side of the table. She could feel her face heating up as she glared daggers at the nasty little slut, watching as Genevieve's hand crept up Remus's leg again, it taking every bit of self restraint not to leap across the restaurant and claw the bitch's face off. Forget subtlety. The hell with the Order. Marlene wanted to shove that girl down a trash compactor. "Mars," James whispered, putting a restraining hand on her arm. "This is a mission, get ahold of yourself." James wasn't actually trying to be a twat, he just wanted to keep Marlene from blowing the whole thing, and a serious voice always sounded so strange on him that it usually got people's attention. He wished he could have said more... about Remus not even noticing that Genevieve was a girl, but in that dress that be a pretty fucking huge lie to swallow. It looked like La Tart had worn a nightie out of the house. "Remus can handle this himself and he doesn't need your flying breadsticks distracting him," he added quietly as he released her arm and gave her a reassuring smile. "He loves you." Remus had been so distracted with attempting to come up with a plan right then in there that he barely caught Genevieve's hand in time, lifting it up above the table and holding it clasped in both of his. He truly wished he hadn't agreed to let Marlene come here; Remus didn't want her to be forced to sit there patiently and just watch them, unable to do anything. He knew that if the roles were reversed, if it were Marlene and Marius, there would be absolutely no way he would allow this to happen, let alone handle just watching. If he agreed to do this they would have to figure out a way to plant the listening devices on the wedding favours without her noticing. He would have to distract her, get her away from where the wedding is being held so that there would be no one around, and make sure he wouldn't need to touch any silver. Perhaps after they finished -- but then he would have to figure out a way to ditch her without finding himself, to put things bluntly, without clothes. But those things could be figured out later. He had to take this offer while it was still open to him, before it expired. "I would love nothing more," Remus replied. He let go of her hand when the waiter returned with their meals, refilling their drinks, and asking them if there was anything else they needed before leaving them to be alone. Genevieve smiled and looked even happier as the spaghetti was set before her. She made an attempt to be ladylike with it for a few minutes before giving up and twisting it around her fork with none of the social graces she ought to be using. Bradley didn't seem to mind anyway. There was something different about him and Genevieve couldn't quite put her finger on it. Perhaps it was the English in him. It was refreshing. His manners were fine but there was something in his openness. In the kindness that radiated from him which was lacking in so many of her peers. She was half way through her meal when she spoke again. "You did not ask about your present," she teased. Setting down her fork. "It might be just as well since we would need to excuse ourselves to la toilet for you to enjoy it its fullest," she said. "Though perhaps you do not live too far from here?" she asked hopefully. "You have been so kind to me. I want to get to know you better." Remus would have been content to spend the rest of the meal in silence, but he stopped with his fork half raised to his mouth when she began talking about the present she had promised. He had nearly forgotten. Placing his fork back on his plate, he tried to think quickly: "The gift of your company is already far more than I could have hoped for," he said. "I'm afraid I don't live nearby, though -- and I don't think I would be welcome into the women's restroom," Remus smiled, hoping that would be enough to convince her. Genevieve giggled and put her fork down. "Monsieur, you are too much a gentleman for your own good," she insisted. "Look, no one is watching us," she said. "And I paid off the staff to give us privacy," she added. "In France it is not uncommon to see couples unable to wait to get to the women's restroom," she said with a wink. "But I will not tease you today mon cher," she said. "You are shy. I comprehend this. I will wait till the wedding to give you my gift," she promised. She picked up her fork and began to eat again, almost finished when some spaghetti fell from her fork onto the expanse of visible cleavage. She wiped it off quickly with a swipe and sucked on her finger for a moment. "Did I get it all Bradley?" she asked, turning to him so he could check. "I appreciate your consideration," Remus said, and for once he didn't have to hide what he was truly feeling -- relief. "Over the month, I think now our meeting at the wedding will be the only thing on my mind." And for once that wasn't a lie, although it would not be her gift that he would be thinking about. He, too, returned to his meal (which was actually quite good -- veal parmesan, with a side of asparagus that he didn't touch), and he was nearly finished, taking the last bite and washing it down with a sip of water when he saw the bit of sauce fall from Genevieve's fork out of the corner of his eye. Automatically, his eyes dropped down to look at her cleavage when she asked the question, a blush instantly forming across his cheeks as he averted his eyes. "Er," He started, and had to take another sip of water, as if that might somehow make it easier to talk. It didn't. "Er, yes -- it's all gone," he lied, having noticed a tiny bit still remaining. "You look lovely." She looked down again, following his eyes. "You are trying not to embarrass me," she cooed as if that was the most precious thing in all the world. "You are truly too sweet to me," she added. "Could you help, s'il vous plait? I would not wish to spend the rest of our afternoon a mess." She turned to him more squarely and took his hand and pulled it toward the offending spot, insistently dropping it to her bosom. A black corset peaked out just above the low cut of the neckline only a half an inch below where Remus's hand now rested. Genevieve had no shame, and no qualms that her body would not meet the approval of any man. To her mind, this was a favour to him-- allowing him to touch her but not having to keep up the act of being an English Gentleman. A proper Frenchman would have been licking it off with their tongue. The blush on Remus' face deepened as soon as his hand was dropped down against the exposed skin of Genevieve's chest, and he hesitated, not quite sure what he should do; trying to hide his reluctance, he wiped the rest of the sauce off with his finger and pulled his hand away, wiping it off on the napkin in his lap. It was clear he was embarrassed, and he gave her an awkward smile when he said, "there -- now it's all gone." Marlene had turned to face away from Remus and Genevieve's table after James had talked her down from her inflamed jealousy, knowing that sitting by just watching this unfold was only making things worse. She wasn't going to mess this up for Remus, or for the Order, but even knowing it was for a mission didn't take away those feelings of wanting to throttle her. It was Genevieve's obnoxious girlish giggle and James's bug-eyed staring that caused Marlene to turn back to see what was happening, turning just in time to see the shameless skank pull Remus's hand up to her breasts. Marlene's eyes narrowed, biting her tongue to keep from yelling for the two to get a fucking room or something, and turned back to James, hoping he'd be able to distract her from the fact that suddenly unforgivable curses seemed like an okay idea! James, however, seemed frozen in place, watching in what Marlene was almost positive was jealousy. "Oh, drool a little more, you twat," Marlene scoffed, rolling her eyes and slamming her napkin down on her plate. She rose sharply to her feet, pushing her chair back in. "I'll be right back. Enjoy the show," she snipped, grabbing for her purse and heading towards the bathroom to calm herself down. And possibly take out her jealousy on a paper towel dispenser. James had been staring, and it wasn't his fault. A good looking girl shoves her tits out there for the world to see and what's a bloke to do? He'd have been downright gay to look away from that. Marlene's irritation brought him back to reality though and he looked up at her sheepishly as she walked away. Genevieve's attention was torn away from Remus as a couple near them were having some sort of loud quarrel. The girl pushed out of her chair and headed for the bathroom and Genevieve's heart went out to her. "That is so sad," she said sweetly, watching the retreating form of Marlene. "Some men are such pigs! That one," she added nodding at James. "I see him peeking over here. His date probably noticed, poor thing. She is not so pretty as me but she is not so bad looking either. If she would do something about her hair and perhaps wear something to keep his attention I think her lunch would be much improved," she said. She shot James another nasty look. "You should go say something to him about ogling me," she insisted, always one to enjoy a man defending her honour even when she was scandalously clad. "I am going to go to the Ladies Room. I do hope that poor girl does not judge me too harshly. It is not my fault that French beauty is vastly more alluring," she said with a shrug. Oh, great. As if matters couldn't get any worse, and Remus watched helplessly as Genevieve followed Marlene. He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and stop the headache he knew was coming. It was then that he noticed Genevieve's purse had been left behind on the seat next to him, and he quickly seized the opportunity, grabbing the purse and standing up from his table and hurrying over to where James was sitting. "I'm supposed to scold you for staring at her," he said, sitting down across from him and opening her purse, digging through it and discovering a quill, "so make sure you look properly apologetic when she comes back out." He searched through her purse, looking for her ID card while keeping an eye out for anything else that might be suspicious but finding nothing -- Remus pulled out her wallet, discovering several photos of a younger Genevieve with a younger Marius before finding her ID card, taking a clean napkin and beginning to quickly copy down the details and numbers. James noticed the picture of Genevieve and Marius as Remus put the wallet down and rolled his eyes. "Dunno why anyone would think it was a good idea to keep pictures of a murdering psychopath in their purse, but maybe that's just me--" he said, before smirking mischievously. "You know, if her two favourite men are you and Frenchy we all might have reason to worry." He was teasing and it was obvious he was teasing. "Though I'd reckon the reason she goes for you is probably that you're his exact opposite. Hope Mars forgives us both," he said. "She called me a twat." Meanwhile in the Ladies Room, Genevieve entered and spotted Marlene. "Mademoiselle," she said kindly. "I am so very sorry if my boyfriend and I have disturbed your lunch. You could do so much better than a date who leers when you are not looking." Marlene had been standing in front of the sink, clenching the sides of the basin with the water streaming down the drain, when Genevieve flounced in. Fanfuckingtastic. "Oh no, it's fine," Marlene lied through her teeth, talking to the mirror rather than to Genevieve, refusing to let herself let go of the sink while she did so, knowing that if her hands were free she'd likely go for the girl's throat. "You and your-" she stopped short. Her boyfriend? Her boyfriend? Fuck you, you little snot, he was her husband. Marlene forced herself to take another deep breath, swallowing hard to get herself under control. "Sorry. You and your boyfriend are very lucky," she replied sweetly, turning to face Genevieve finally. "I mean, you've seen the guy I'm with's hair, yeah? You're probably right. I could do much better." Genevieve giggled. "Oui. It is most unruly," she agreed. "And you are a pretty girl. I was telling Bradley that. There is no reason for you to look so upset, cherie. I am well acquainted with unappreciative men. Unappreciative men who marry middle-class gold digging nothings," she said bitterly. "But you must rise above it. It is the burden of our fair sex. Men are ignorant and silly and have to be led by the hand to a proper destination." Suddenly Genevieve seemed just a little bit more tolerable in Marlene's eyes, despite the fact that the girl seemed insistent on macking on her husband. The nagging jealousy was still there, there was no doubt about that, but anyone who could see that Marius Lestrange was a sleazebag and that Astra Avery was a brainwashed stepford wife had to have some good qualities buried deep within that skanky outfit and likely glamour-charm enhanced breasts. "Well, I'm sorry you've had to deal with horrid lowlifes like that as well," Marlene replied, a slight smirk growing on her face. "Thank you. You are exactly right. I definitely think I'm going to try this "leading by the hand" sort of thing," she nodded, wiping her hands off with a paper towel and tossing it into the garbage can. "You and... Bradley," she tried not to laugh, "enjoy the rest of your lunch. I need to plan out how tonight will go with my husband." "The man with the hair is your husband?" Genevieve asked, completely indignant. "He is a pig! I will tell you what you should do. It is what I should have done to my previous love all along. Poison him," Genevieve said plainly. "Not to kill him but so that he suffers. And then you take care of him even though he is a pig and he looks at other women when he should only look at you." Genevieve enjoyed looks from strange men whole-heartedly but dark-haired men who smirked and took women for granted were a terribly sore spot for her. "Be tender and loving and caring though he deserves to be suffocated and when he is well you hold it over his head. When he looks at another woman you can say "I took care of you when you were next to death and you repay me with this?" and then you cry. Let him see how inconsiderate he is. I tried too hard before. I was too understanding. I let him get away with anything and drag any consideration for me through the mud and now do you know what I have for my goodness?" she asked, her eyes brimming with tears as she ranted. "I am in his wedding! His wedding with his pregnant wife and his horrid friends and his father who cares more about vases than a woman's feelings! I am no--" Genevieve cut herself off with a sudden gasp. "I am sorry," she said quietly, stepping over to the sink. Tears were streaming down her face now and she turned on the water to splash herself and calm down. "It is a tender spot in my heart. I did not mean to speak so to a stranger. I know I have no right to ask this of you but I do not want my date to see me upset like this. Could you please fetch my purse from the table and give him my apologies?" she asked through sniffles. "It would be too embarrassing and I do not want him to think he has done anything wrong. Excuse me as ill?" Marlene listened as Genevieve ranted, feeling torn between sympathy and utmost awkwardness at knowing that she was talking about Marius Lestrange all the while. Maybe she had stockholm syndrome, and that's how she managed to be so freaking in love with such a psychopath. "No, it's alright. Rant away," she tried to reassure her, Marlene's hand subconsciously touching the side of her own face when she mentioned vases and the Lestranges in the same sentence, her stomach knotting up a little, still feeling somewhat self-conscious about the incident months after Frenchy had attacked her. "I'll tell him, yes, and'll get your purse," Marlene nodded, already moving towards the door. "And I'll be sure to be very firm about the fact that you want him to leave, because he seems to be the sort who'd insist on waiting around to make sure you're fine." She began to push the door open, only to stop short, slowly turning back to Genevieve. "And you know... you really shouldn't let this Ma-" she stopped, realising Genevieve had never said Marius's name out loud, "this man treat you like this! Leading you along and then putting you in his wedding? That is cruel. I think that you should get revenge. No one deserves to be strung along like that, and he should pay for doing it, no matter how much you care for him." "Oh, trust me mademoiselle. He does not know what he is in for," she said determinedly. "I look pathetic now, I realise, but I have moved to England and I assure you, it is not to win him back." "Glad to hear it. Good luck to you, miss," Marlene smirked and moved through the doorway, feeling much more confident now that she did when she'd stormed off into the ladies room. She moved back over to the table that Remus and James were huddled at, fiddling inside Genevieve's purse. Noticing the picture of Marius in James's hand as she came up behind them, Marlene groaned and swiped it away, shoving the photograph back into the purse. "Ugh, put that away. You'll make people lose their appetite." "I'm supposed to take her her purse. You're free to take off, Bradley. She got all upset and looks like a raccoon and is claiming to be ill." Remus found himself asking, "is she alright?" before he could stop himself. Perhaps it was his guilty conscious kicking in, feeling bad for manipulating and tricking Genevieve the way he has been. He placed the wallet back into Genevieve's purse, snapping it shut and handing it over to Marlene. He slipped the napkin into his pocket, rising from the table -- as he passed by Marlene, he allowed his hand to briefly touch hers as he whispered, "I'm glad I married you," before continuing on back to his table. The guilt was still there -- over what he was doing to Genevieve, and having just put his own wife into a situation where she had to see the whole thing; he only hoped the information he was able to get today wouldn't go to waste. Remus waved the water over to his table, requesting the check and paying for both their meals; he left the change in silver sickles behind for the tip, standing up and leaving the restaurant, apparating back to the cottage -- and the first thing he did when he arrived was put his wedding band back on. "Nah, she's fine. Apparently Frenchy upsets everyone," Marlene explained with a shrug, assuring Remus that nothing he'd done had been what'd upset Genevieve. "I'm also supposed to poison James for having drifty eyes, but maybe I'll just give Lil the heads up on that bit." She watched as Remus moved back to his table to pay for the meal, trying to get the big geeky grin on her face to go away before moving to take the purse into the restroom. It hadn't been such a bad afternoon after all. |