WHO: Remus Lupin & Petunia Dursley WHEN: While Hermione was in Washington, D.C. WHERE: Remus' apartment WHAT: Petunia baked brownies for Remus and they chat. WARNINGS: It's so adorable?
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Given the fact that Hermione was out of town with her nephew, Petunia thought it might be a good idea to stop by to check on Remus. Which had involved a shopping trip. She’d gotten enough brownie mix and chocolate chips to make sure that she could leave brownies at the house. It seemed like poor manners to make double chocolate brownies and then not leave any for the rest of the house. Especially in the wake of everything.
She’d carefully chosen a dress in the hopes that it would look nice while also not seeming like she’d dressed up. It was a plain, light pink, sleeveless dress that hit just a smidge above the knee. She’d tried to find it longer, but...she couldn’t. Her hair was carefully pinned up and she avoided eye contact with Eliot when she said she was going out to visit a friend. She did not mention which one, but with a plate of double chocolate brownies and a bottle of wine, she thought it might have been more obvious than she originally intended.
By the time she showed up at Remus’ she wasn’t exactly sure if it had been a good idea, but she knocked anyway. She was already here, so it wasn’t like she could go back on her plan.
Remus didn't think it was going to be that different in the apartment when Hermione was gone. He'd been alone before, hadn't he? Years and years he'd been alone. But ever since he left for Hogwarts, and rode on the train from Kings Cross, he hadn't really been alone. He'd spent one night in the castle of his youth and then he'd woken up on the sandy beach with company all around. Since then, he'd not really been alone. Even when Tonks left, he'd had his friends still and his son.
But with Hermione out of the apartment, it felt incredibly silent. He didn't necessarily enjoy it. This didn't mean that he wished Hermione hadn't gone. He wanted her to experience all that she could and he was certainly not going to keep her nephew from spending time with her.
He was sitting on the couch with a book in his hand and his chin propped against the palm of his free hand. Upon hearing the knock, he glanced up. "One moment!" He shouted, as he placed a bookmark inside the pages and rose to his feet. Moving to the front door, he pulled it open and instantly smiled.
"Petunia," he said, smile kind and welcoming.
Petunia hadn’t really been alone in a while. Even now she wasn’t, but it never really kept her safe from the loneliness that crept up since she didn’t have her boys around. Even some days, she felt the loss of Alastor. So she knew what it was like to be by yourself without children when you had them usually.
She smiled back, almost reflexively when she saw Remus in the doorway. “Hello, Remus. I thought I’d check in on you. I know Hermione went on her trip, so I thought maybe you might need company.” She held up the plate of brownies and the bottle of wine. “I brought wine and double chocolate brownies.” Because she knew about Remus and chocolate just like she already knew about what he was. It wasn’t the full moon, however, so it wasn’t really a problem. “I probably should have called ahead, but...I thought you might not mind the surprise.” And she wasn’t really sure that he was the ‘go out and spend time with a lot of people’ sort of person. Or maybe that was just how she’d observed things.
“If you’re busy, I can always just...leave these with you and come back another time, though.”
His smile remained as he looked upon her. It was quite a stark contrast to how he'd initially felt about her arrival. In the beginning, he'd been rather unkind and held her at a distance, judging her for the acts of another version of herself. With some time, and reflection, he'd come to understand that this was unjust of him. He wouldn't want to be judged for the actions of others. He hated the stigma held against him for his lycanthrophy. How was judging her for another woman's actions any different? In the realm of principle it had been the same and he quickly scolded himself for it, opening himself up to the possibility of a friendship with the sister of one of his dearest friends.
His smile warmed even more when she spoke. "That was very kind of you, Petunia," he stated, as he shifted to step aside from the entrance, holding the door open for her. "Come on in," he added as he did so. Then his eyes fell to the plate of brownies and he felt a bit of a flush against his cheeks.
He didn't recall ever telling Petunia his penchant for chocolate but there was always the possibility his alternate self, from her world, had done so. Regardless, it was going to work out well in his favor. "No need," he then insisted. "You're welcome over whenever you like. Nothing is too dire to be put aside for company," he explained. He went too long in his life without company that he wasn't likely to turn any away.
Petunia had seen Remus’ cheeks heat up before, but never because she’d turned up with brownies before. She kept her smile in place as she walked inside. It wasn’t the first time that she’d been there, so she placed the brownies on the table with the wine once she was inside and turned to look at Remus.
“I’m glad that there wasn’t anything terribly important happening.” She smoothed down her dress. “Glasses? We have wine to drink and brownies to eat.” She wondered how much was different from the person that she knew. She’d noticed some differences in their time together, but she didn’t know how much was different. “I know what it’s like not to have kids around suddenly. It gets a little quiet.”
Shutting the door behind Petunia, he turned to watch her navigate her way comfortably through his apartment. His hands found their way into his pockets and he stood with his arms pressed close to his form, just watching her in his overly large jumper. Then he gave a nod of his head. "Right, of course."
He moved towards the small kitchen area and reached up to pull down two wine flutes. He slipped the stems of the glasses between his fingers and also snatched up a few napkins on his way towards the table. "It's a bit unsettling. You get used to the sound of others," he observed before casting his eye to her. Her statement made his heart ache just slightly and he had to resist the urge to reach out and place a comforting hand on her shoulder. They weren't that level of close yet.
"I wish you didn't know that."
Petunia couldn’t help but wish she knew where everything was in kitchens that weren’t hers, but she had not managed that part yet. One day, perhaps. She watched him for a moment as he got things out of the kitchen and returned. It was unusual not to be as close as she remembered them being before. It was basically starting over again. She tried not to be too bothered by it, however. She was getting a chance to make friends, which meant something. He hadn’t seemed very into the idea when she first arrived, but now he was asking for help and letting her just pop over unannounced without being particularly upset. That was something.
“Very quickly,” she agreed. It was difficult to stop waiting for the sound of Dudley or Harry laughing, screaming...anything. The sounds around her now were very different from the way they were now. But it was the beginnings of a family. She was just starting to get used to them and the majority of their behaviours and preferences. She would protect them as much as she could. Even if she didn’t fully understand everything.
“If wishes were fishes,” she said quietly. She just had to remind herself that she was still with them, she was still protecting them. Even if they weren’t here. “That is what friends are for.” Even if she wasn’t sure whether or not they were friends. All the same, she opened the wine and took the glasses, pouring the wine. “And wine. Which sounds terrible, honestly. The wine part, I mean...not the friends.”
He passed the wine glasses to her and shifted to lay down the napkins while she worked with the wine. Pulling the plastic wrap back from the plate, he placed a brownie on each napkin. His gaze turned upwards with her one statement. He'd never heard that phrase before. He wondered if it were a common nursery saying for children.
He felt the small tumble of his stomach at the thought, remembering missed opportunities with his own child. He'd never learn that with Teddy. And Hermione wasn't his, even if he was fond of her. She had a family and he wouldn't want to replace that for her.
"I can't think of why a friend who brings wine is terrible," he assured her with a smile, wanting to make her do so as well. "Thank you," he then added as he set the brownie down by her on the table.
She did give him a small smile. It wasn’t completely free from the tinge of sadness. “Well, I’m glad you don’t mind my being the wine friend.” She handed him a wine glass, checking her hair as casually as she could before taking a sip of the wine herself. She resisted the urge to down the entire glass like she felt like doing at that moment.
“So what did I interrupt anyway?” She glanced around, not really noticing anything. She wondered if there was anything. Back in her home, things were...different. Remus spent time in the library and she knew that about him. She wanted to fall into old jokes and things that this Remus wouldn’t understand. “Are you reading anything?”
He lifted the glass to his lips, taking a light sip from it. He didn't want to out pace her. He could have easily drank it all. He chose not to. Bringing it back down to rest by his hip he motioned towards his front room with his head.
"Jane Eyre," he said with a sense of minor interest. "She's part of my summer reading requirements. I'm brushing up," he explained. When he'd arrived initially in Texas, he'd been tasked with trying to learn an entire American curriculum in the evenings and weekends. The summer had allowed for him to take some time with his reading and to actually enjoy it.
"Did you want to come sit?" He then asked, looking over to his loan couch. He hadn't had money yet to invest in a love seat to go with it.
Jane Eyre. She had heard about that before, but she didn’t really remember anything about it. Most of the books she read these days were magical in nature. There was some stuff about muggles, but the majority of it was inaccurate. “You have summer reading?” She remembered having things to do over the summer for school, but not since then. Which left her a little confused, but she was sure that he would fill her in.
When he asked her to sit, she nodded, grabbing her brownie and her glass of wine before taking a seat. She’d get up when they needed more wine. She debated getting up already to get it, but she’d wait for a little bit.
"Well, my students do," he explained as way of an answer to her question, following her to take a seat on the couch. He left a cushion between them but shifted so his body was pivoted in her direction. He set his napkin and brownie on his knee before taking a drink from his glass again. "I gave them a list of twelve novels. They had to pick four."
He looked to her, then, and smiled again. "What about you? Were you doing anything exciting today?"
Students. He was a teacher. Petunia smiled at that. He would have made a good teacher, she imagined. Even the version of him that she knew. Though, he was certainly different from this one, but then again, they were all different. It was what they’d lived through, what they’d been through. She was happy to see that he had a sort of normal life here. He could do all of these things. She sometimes felt false in this world, like she was...trying to be someone she wasn’t. She just wasn’t used to living without zombies around, without always being on. “You’re a teacher.” Her smile grew. “It suits you. Are you reading all twelve?”
There was a shake of her head at the question. “No. Nothing exciting. Just the usual. Well, I suppose there was work, but it’s…” She paused, her face scrunching up a little. “It’s not entirely interesting, I suppose. I give tours at the museum. I think maybe I’m just...not used to normal things like working, but I can’t sit around and do nothing all day either, so…” She shrugged slightly.
"I am," he affirmed, still smiling at her. He shifted to rest his elbow against the back of the couch and let his head rest against the palm of his hand, fingers threading through his own hair. "Seven down, five to go," he confirmed with a bit of a chuckle. He had read them all before but it was good to refresh himself on some of the topics featured in each.
"The dust bowl museum?" He then asked, raising an eyebrow. He'd not known this. While he was being more friendly with Petunia than he would have if she was from his world, they still were learning about one another. And he was grateful that she was always so generous towards him. Still, he didn't know everything, and the subject of their respective employments hadn't ever really come up. "I'd be fascinated to hear about that if that's the case."
Then he nodded. "No, I understand that," he said, quietly, the smile seeming to fade just slightly. He remembered many weeks of being unable to find any work and having a sense of monotony in his life. It had been years of that with up and down periods. He prefered to remain busy.
Petunia wasn’t sure how she felt about reading twelve books. She wasn’t sure how he managed it, but then he always seemed to like reading, so who was she to question it? As long as he was happy, that was what mattered. “I feel like that is a lot of books still.”
There was a nod at the question he’d asked. “Yes. The Dust Bowl Museum. I’m not really sure what to tell you about it. Mostly it’s a lot of information about dust storms and the dangers of not understanding farming. Apparently Tumbleweed was one of the hardest hit places. Hence the museum.” She laughed a little at that. It was such a strange thing to imagine. How had people not known how to farm? How had not farming gotten so bad that it caused dust storms?
She caught the way his smile faded and she reached out without thinking to put a hand on his arm. It wasn’t until after she’d already done it that she realized. She stilled once she did, however and slowly pulled her hand back. “Sorry.”
"It's way too many books," he had agreed with a chuckle. He figured perhaps in a year or two he'd have read them enough that such fervent rereads wouldn't be necessary. Funny, that thought, that he was hoping he'd still be in Tumbleweed in a year or two. He knew he had a future, though brief, with Tonks and his fleeting moments with Teddy; but it didn't seem enough. He preferred here where he could see his son continue to grow, even if it was only as an adult. It was at least something to experience and there was an uncertainty about the future. He didn't like knowing what was destined to occur.
"Perhaps, then, I'll come out to the museum one day while you are working and request a tour. I'm sure Hermione would enjoy it, too," he told her in response.
His eyes cast down to her hand on his arm and he stilled for a moment. It wasn't that he was against closeness or touch; it was just that he wasn't accustomed to it with Petunia. Mainly it was from the Marauders or the Order. Everyone else stayed clear away from him back home. Less so here. He then lifted his eyes, looking at her, before shaking his head. "Don't be," he assured her. She was being kind and he appreciated it.
And, in order to show her it was nothing to be apologetic over, he shifted, moving closer to her on the couch and offering the smile again. Though, understandably, it wasn't as organic as it had been originally.
“I guess it’s better that it is your burden than mine.” It was a little teasing. She knew they weren’t exactly close, but it was hard not to slip into some familiar habits with him. She read some books, but she was certain that twelve in one summer was unlikely for her. Then again, these days, reading was mostly a ‘to help the kids fall asleep’ activity, which meant they were easy books to read. It was not as often now that they were eleven.
“I will try very hard to make it an interesting tour, then.”
Kindness hadn’t always been a trait that came easily to Petunia. If she was honest, it wasn’t always a trait that she possessed even now. It was easier with people who she felt a kinship with. The only trouble was that most of the people she felt a kinship with were either not here or...the wrong versions of themselves. It was maddening to know that there were things only she knew. “I think sometimes I forget that you’re...not you.” She shook her head, a few strands of hair falling around her face. “Does that make sense? I feel like I’m not making sense.” Oh, but she was aware that he’d moved closer because she could feel more warmth coming from that side of her body. She didn’t normally pay attention to those things. Remus had been closer before from home. Sirius as well. Even Alastor. She just...felt so...different from before. It was probably because she didn’t have to kill to protect herself anymore and she didn’t have the boys, so she became more aware of things outside of that. She couldn’t say for sure.
“You still look like you, though...and you sound like you. Still read too many books.” She laughed a little at that part. “I think you might eventually memorise all the books in the library one day.”
"I'll suffer through it. And I'll pass the suffering onto the 9th graders," he accompanied this with a slight laugh at the end and a grin that he was trying to keep from being too wide, but it wasn't an easy feet to accomplish. Then he nodded his head and took a sip from the wine glass. "I'm sure you won't have to try too hard," he encouraged, as he lowered the glass.
He shifted some, leaning his head to the side, as he listened. With her initial question, which was followed by uncertainty in herself, he gave a light disagreeing shake of his head; though he did not interrupt her. It made him feel a sense of guilt. He may have had glimpses of an unpleasant future but he had friends all around from the same world as his own. But her, and Sirius to a degree, did not have this luxury. They had similar variants of everyone they knew and loved.
He was a variant.
"Big reader in your world, too, hmm?" He teased, being unsurprised by this. He was a man who'd lived a solitary lifestyle for sometime. Books were friends who were not afraid of what you were. Then he took in a breath. "It makes sense, though, what you say."
He hesitated for a moment. "I don't have memories of you from my world. I just know things Lily had told me." He frowned for a moment as he thought of how he'd not kept up the argument with Albus about Harry's placement with her. He'd caved on that discussion. And, in hindsight, he regretted this. However, if Harry had been with a version similar to the woman sitting in front of him, he would have felt more comfortable with the arrangement. "It's interesting how we change, isn't it? Depending on the moments we experience."
“Too big,” she said, but there was a fondness in her voice. Remus was, to put it simply, Remus. She did not try to change his habits because she didn’t feel that she needed to. If he liked to read, then he liked to read. There were things she preferred to do and no one seemed to mind her too much. Plus, they were practically a team in the dreams, so they did what they could to work together, which meant trying to understand one another. “But I think that’s just a part of who you are. If there is a version of you out there that dislikes reading, I will be completely unable to figure out what to do with myself.”
It was so strange to think about how a world where they didn’t know each other, where she was the person that would treat her nephew so poorly. She knew that she would likely have been that person if things hadn’t changed the way that they did. “I don’t know what might have happened if things weren’t...what I remember. I guess I would have been the woman you heard about. I’m not exactly not the girl you heard about. I still hurt my sister when she did nothing to deserve it except be different.”
She paused, taking a sip of her wine. “Alastor showed up one day while I was out and saved my life. The zombies were the first change...and then Vernon dying. But I think that somehow resonated the most with me. Him saving my life and eventually joining everyone at Hogwarts.”
He smiled warmly with her jest. It didn't feel malicious in any way. No, it felt more like the type of banter he'd have with his other friends. After all, she was a friend now, too. Or at least on her way to becoming one. No. She certainly was. "Would we really be able to call him a version of me?" He responded with an equal amount of levity.
Then he shook his head in minor disagreement. "Perhaps. Perhaps not." He didn't like to think of her being the other woman. If he was being truthful, it was likely, but she was so different to the hateful woman who frequented the early chapters of each novel about Harry's life that he didn't want to think on it more. He took in a deep breath. "We all have regrets." His mind flickered to the knowledge of how he acted towards Tonks in his future. He quickly lifted his glass and took a sip from it, shoving that memory far away.
Then he looked to her, tilting his head just slightly to the side. "Alastor was always dependable. Gruff, of course, but still someone you could rely on." A pause. "I'm glad he was there for you when you needed him."
“No. We would call him the anti-Remus.” She laughed to herself a little. The very idea of a Remus that did not like reading just seemed so unusual, so unlikely. Petunia couldn’t imagine it. It was a strange thing.
Regrets. Petunia knew a thing or two about those. She had held onto her anger and hatred for her sister for so long that by the time she discovered her sister was dead, it was the only thing to keep her from feeling like the wind had been knocked out of her. She would never believe in superstitious things (well, she wouldn’t have said so before), but she had woken up that night knowing that something was not quite right. The next thing she knew, Harry was on her doorstep with a letter from Albus Dumbledore informing her that her sister and brother-in-law were dead and she was being charged with the task of taking care of her nephew. At the time, she hadn’t really worked her way through everything she was feeling. She just decided to stay angry. It was easier.
Then everything changed and her sister came back...only she wasn’t her sister anymore. But even with that, Petunia had hesitated. If Alastor hadn’t arrived, she would have died or become one of the undead. “I hesitated,” she said after a moment. “When Vernon died, I didn’t hesitate to do what I had to to keep him from coming back as one of them, but that time? That time I hesitated. I don’t know how long Alastor was there, but he did what I could not. He didn’t hesitate.” Her brow furrowed. “It is...a lot sometimes. To act without thinking. To remind yourself that the people you knew are no longer the people you knew.”