tetsubinatu (tetsubinatu) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2008-08-30 17:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | prompt: fantasy fest 08 |
That boy - Part 3 of 5 - fantasy fest '08 - REVISED
Title: That Boy - Part 3 of 5
Author: Tetsubinatu
Rating: M because of the F-word
Wordcount (this part): about 1350
Pairing(s)/character(s): Snape/Lupin
Challenge: Fantasy Fest 2008
Summary: Long-fic Challenge 25 -- Post-war, plausible survival scenario, established relationship (either new or long-standing). Somehow R finds out that Sirius left a child, and wants to adopt it. I like my S snarky, but not cruel. Any rating. Happy endings are best! :)
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just for fun.
Warnings: none
Part 1
Part 2
Remus remembered clearly the first time he had seen Reg. The small boy had been weaving through the crowd in Diagon Alley at a trot, fist clenched tightly around some small object. His speed and size, no less than his ragged dress, made him an oddity on the respectable strip.
As Remus watched he saw three bigger boys, nudging and smirking their way through the centre of the alley, turn aside and form a classic wedge formation in order to separate Reg from the crowd and thence into a disused alley - more of a crevice between buildings than a true laneway. The urchin appeared oblivious but at the last second he took four quick steps backwards and slipped sideways into Dervish and Banges. The expression on the older boys’ faces was classic comedy, at least until surprise was replaced by anger. Remus began to worry about the child’s safety when he saw two of them pursue him into the shop, while the largest stood watch outside.
Irresolute, he stood on the other side of Diagon Alley, considering what action would be appropriate, until he saw the young boy pop out of the little side-alley he had so adroitly avoided earlier, cast an anxious glance back at the doorway at which one boy still stood guard and slip unnoticed out into the crowds again. Remus grinned, and being in no particular hurry waited to see how the baffled pursuers would react. There was a chocolate bar in his pocket which he unwrapped to savour as he leaned casually against the warm red brick wall and awaited further developments. It was at least five minutes before the tallest boy exited the store, visibly fuming, and another three before the final boy appeared from down the alley, presumably having located the side-exit favoured by the urchin.
An interesting little vignette, Remus had thought at the time, but none of his business in the final analysis.
However once he had become aware of the existence of the small boy, he seemed to see him every time he ventured near Diagon Alley, running errands, playing marbles in the sun with a couple of slightly older boys, or idly bouncing a ball against a brick wall. There was something very appealing about him with his glossy black curls and ready grin, and a distinctly marauderish glint to his grey eyes.
Ironically, considering later events, Remus was on an errand for Severus, collecting some more ...unusual... potions ingredients from an address in a small laneway off Knockturn Alley, when he finally made Reg’s acquaintance. The boys who had been pursuing the smaller child on that first occasion came bursting into the laneway as he exited the tiny shop. Remus caught sight of a small knee protruding from behind a quivering dustbin on the other side of the laneway and cast a surreptitious disillusionment charm over the child. Wand held loosely in his hand he watched as the thugs casually sauntered down the lane towards him, the outermost boys kicking over or scrutinising every potential piece of cover.
“Afternoon,” their leader greeted him, blocking Remus’ view of the crucial dustbin. “’Ave yer seen a little boy go past? Me little brother thinks it’s funny to play hide 'n' seek in the alleys, but it just ain’t safe.” The look of mock innocence was rather well done, although Remus was in no danger of succumbing to it.
“Sorry,” he replied flatly. “I’m off to Fortescue’s for an ice. Have you looked there? Little boys like icecream, and I bet he’ll turn up there when he’s ready to make an appearance.”
He really didn’t like to turn his back on them, but as he walked away he heard only the sound of another box being kicked as the little gang moved further into the alley and away from him.
Remus was only at Fortescues for twenty minutes, hunched over a coffee and the Quibbler in a dim corner behind an advertising board, before quick, light footsteps made their way towards him, seemingly unencumbered by any bodily manifestation. Knowing who must be there, he could dimly see the boy’s outline. “Would you like an ice?” he asked, pulling the chair opposite him out to indicate where the child should sit.
“Are yer gonna take the spell off me?” The shadow halted, warily, just out of grabbing range.
“Of course! I told you where to find me, didn’t I?”
The shadow conceded the point by sitting down. Remus waved to Angus Fortescue who gestured back with an icecream scoop to indicate that he would be there in a minute.
Remus cast the spell to reveal his wary guest, and was rather shocked to find that the boy had a deep black bruise on one cheek underlying more recent bleeding scrapes and a general layer of dirt.
“We’d better get you cleaned up, and then we’ll have icecream,” he said, and before the child could flinch he transfigured a paper napkin to more sturdy towelling and dampened it with water from his glass. Angus came over to the table as he was gently cleaning the wounds. The child put up no more than the token resistence one would expect of a boy that age.
“My usual, if you please, Angus, and something for my young friend.” He looked expectantly at the boy, who muttered, ‘Chocolate cherry’.
Remus concentrated on a tricky scrape, but confirmed the order. “And a chocolate cherry sundae please.” He smiled up at Angus, who nodded genially, apparently unphased by Reg’s appearance, and went back to the counter.
“There we go.” Remus sat back to examine his handiwork, then, frowning, scourgified the cloth and redampened it, handing it to the boy with the instruction “Hands, please.”
The boy looked uncertainly at the cloth he was holding, then seeming to grasp what was expected of him, cleaned his hands, if not thoroughly then at least to a reasonable state of hygiene. The dirty ring around the wrists was best ignored, Remus decided, vanishing the cloth. A gentle healing spell improved the bruise and scrapes. “Sorry, healing was never my best talent,” he apologised. “I only wish it was. I’m Remus.”
“Reg,” the boy volunteered. “Thanks.”
Remus blinked. And suddenly the fall of black hair over grey eyes, the sulky pout and high cheekbones reminded him irresistably of another Reg. Remus could almost feel the pieces falling into place.
Something must have shown on his face, because the boy flinched. “Wot?” he demanded. The accent was in sharp contrast to the face in Remus’ thoughts.
“Sorry. I knew a boy named Reg once.”
“Was he Regulus, like me? Cos lots of wankers call me Redge - or Rick - but me real name’s Regulus. Uncle Bill says that’s a fuckin’ nob’s name, and me mam was a bloody foolish bitch to call me that, but he doesn’t mind Reg.”
“Yes, he was Regulus too. You live with your Uncle?”
He had unleashed a torrent of words; the boy barely paused for breath until his chocolate cherry sundae arrived. Soon Remus knew all about his life. He let the words swirl about him, creating the image of a child’s contricted world, lacking in education, material goods or the expectation of comfort, gentleness or safety. Remus had lived in that world for many years, but not as a child, and not without awareness of that other middle-class reality in which he had been raised.
When it came, the icecream was granted the attention it deserved, every bite savoured, and then the child became aware of the lengthening shadows. “Gotta go, Remus; Uncle Bill needs me home before the shops close today. He’s got a job for me,” he confided, proud of his competence and his Uncle’s trust.
Remus let him go, but the promise of another sundae next time they met gave him confidence that the child would find him again. The boy was beginning to trust him. But who was he? He had to be a Black. However, how to account for this particular 8 year old scion of the most Noble and Ancient House of Black currently residing in Knockturn Alley had Remus stumped.
But he was going to find out.