Percival I. Weasley (ohweatherby) wrote in unloading_zone, @ 2010-09-04 16:51:00 |
|
|||
It was highly unusual for Percy not to know what he was doing. He liked being very certain of everything down to the most minute details. Certainty was good and familiar and reliable. Everything about a blind date wasn’t. Sitting at the table, Percy couldn’t stop fidgeting with his sleeve under the table. Why had he let Oliver talk him into this? How did he manage to persuade him it would be a good idea? For all he knew, this was one of the Twins’ pranks. Make Percy think someone wanted to go out on a date with him, and then see how long he would wait at the table, hoping he might be about to meet the right person.
Deep-down, Percy knew it was the baggage that made him muster the courage to enter the pub and wait at the table in the back. It was the the fear constantly preying on his mind. It was a very absurd fear, but at the age of twenty-seven – no, twenty-eight, it was something to fear.
Percy had no idea who he was about to meet, but he hoped it was a nice young lady who his mother would like.
The last date had been a bust, but Remus had to believe that this one would be better. The young lady last time, Ainsley Scamander, a future student, had perhaps been near his age, but she certainly hadn’t seemed like it. She had looked far too young, had acted far too young. He’d felt like a pedophile, or a man taking out his girlfriend’s daughter to see if they would get along. It had been all wrong. Even his date with Dora hadn’t been that bad!
Dora. Dora, the wife who claimed she loved him, who had fallen all over herself when she had seen him arrive on the island, who had apparently fought for him in that other world, Dora had rejected him, his invitation for a date. She’d said no.
No matter how uncomfortable Remus was at this new date, he knew it was a necessary evil if he wanted to meet someone who was right for him. There had to be someone, he just had to believe it. Someone who wasn’t Sirius. And maybe it hadn’t been Ainsley and maybe it wasn’t Dora, but maybe today, he’d meet someone special for him. Someone he could see himself growing old with.
Older.
Remus entered the pub and immediately made for the back. Sirius had said to look for a redhead at a table in the back. He couldn’t stop nervously twirling the rose he’d brought with him.
It was a man. Younger than himself, naturally, but a man. He looked familiar. He was probably a Weasley.
“Hello.”
Percy looked up into the younger face of Remus Lupin, and blinked owlishly. “Hi,” he faltered over how to address the man, “Remus.” Somehow, addressing the man as professor did not seem appropriate. He wasn’t a student, and Remus had only been known as Professor Lupin for one year. No need to rub the salt in the wound.
“Um, this is rather embarrassing, but I’m afraid I can’t talk and catch up right now. I’m waiting for my date,” Percy said, blushing to the roots. He failed to notice the rose in Remus’s hands.
Great. Of course. The man was going to be an ex-student of his again. This was unbelievable. Remus considered turning tail, just telling... Weasley to have a good date and that he would see him around, but something made him hand over the flower.
“You were expecting a woman, I take it,” he said, trying very hard not to duck his head shyly. “Sirius... How did you get the date if you didn’t know I was going to be an ‘older bloke’?” Remus still hadn’t sat down; he didn’t know how Weasley would take it. And here he was assuming he was a Weasley, but he did look somewhat like Arthur.
Percy stared at the flower. Was he supposed to take it? The questions flooding his mind were stoppered by what Remus said next. After that, he connected the dots.
Remus Lupin was his blind date.
“All the note said was that I had a blind date in the pub, and to sit at this table and be here before seven,” Percy answered, and deciding not to be rude, he reached for the stem and took the flower.
“Were you also expecting a woman? Is this a prank?” Percy asked, thinking there might be a reasonable explanation for what was going on. Hoping, too. Wasn’t Remus married? Or had that not happened yet? Percy knew that Teddy was on the island. Nymphadora was his roommate. This was reaching a level of awkward that Percy was not yet familiar with, and he had come across a lot of awkward situations before.
Was it a prank? That was the question. Remus was starting to wonder, himself.
“I... I didn’t know what to expect. I was only told that you - my date - would be sitting in the back and had red hair.” He shrugged. “As for the prank, I suppose it might be.” That needed explanation. “Sirius is setting me up on blind dates. He’s supposed to be trying to help, but I’m starting to wonder. He probably means well,” he decided after a time, not altogether convinced.
It wasn’t lost on Remus that he was at a slight disadvantage. Clearly, this man knew him. That he would call him Remus rather than Mr. Lupin as Ms. Scamander had suggested that he might be familiar with him and probably knew a good deal about him. So far, Remus knew he was possibly a Weasley. Not a great start.
“I can go,” he suggested, pointing back at the door. He probably should have done that from the start. He should have left a long, long time ago. “There’s clearly been a misunderstanding. I’m sorry, I’ll go. Have a nice evening.”
“Wait,” Percy blurted out. He didn’t know what possessed his mouth to let the word leave. It could have been sympathy. It could have been the baggage preying on his common sense. It could have been a little defiant spark of hope. Or desperation.
Percy really didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t want the evening to end like that: in disappointment and humiliation.
“It doesn’t have to be a date, but perhaps we can still talk and have dinner?” Percy suggested.
Remus couldn’t help but be a bit surprised that the other man didn’t want him to leave right away. Hadn’t this been bad enough? The date had probably not been a prank on Remus but on... Weasley here instead. It was obvious that the man hadn’t asked for the date, which meant that someone else had on his behalf. If he were this Weasley, he’d be looking for blood. Only not. Maybe just a little bit. And he would know where to look first.
Talking and dinner did sound nice, particularly because the other man had suggested it. Remus thought about it a moment and then nodded.
“Alright.” He smiled and extended his hand to shake Weasley’s as he took a seat across from him. Remus could always use more friends. “You obviously know me, but my name is Remus Lupin. What’s yours?”
Percy gratefully accepted the handshake. He tended to prefer them over hugs and the like.
“Percy Weasley,” he replied, returning a smile. “I was– Or, I suppose I should say, I become a student of yours. I was in my seventh year when you taught.” Percy thought that Remus might appreciate knowing how he knew him.
“If I may be so bold, you look much younger than I remember.” The last and final time Percy had seen Remus was at the Final Battle, and then the funeral. He had enough tact to know he shouldn’t mention this.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Percy,” he said with a nod, acknowledging what he’d said. So Remus had been right; it was a Weasley and a student. He had to wonder, truly, if there was anyone in the city he hadn’t taught. The dating pool was shrinking at a ridiculous rate. But it wasn’t time to think about this.
“I am?” Now, Remus was happy. “I suppose I should, but I admit, you’re the first to say as much.” Dora should’ve noticed as well, but he couldn’t remember her saying so. “I come from 1992. I’m told I arrive at Hogwarts next year. When are you from?” He should maybe offer to get drinks, but he didn’t know what Percy wanted and he didn’t want to ask just yet; it was probably wiser to give him more time to decide if he wanted to leave after all first.
“Yes, you teach in 1993,” Percy confirmed, nodding. “I’m from 2003.” Merlin, had it really been ten years since he left Hogwarts? The weight of his age sunk in later than it should have. His birthday had only just passed a few days ago, but he hadn’t felt old that day.
“It’s been quite some time since you were my professor. I recently turned twenty-eight.” Since it was on his mind, and it was one of those things that people typically shared on dates, Percy saw no reason not to share his age. “Perhaps that’s why we were set up. We’re closer in age than most,” he suggested, willing to give Sirius – a man he admittedly did not know well at all – the benefit of the doubt.
Twenty-eight. Percy was right, that wasn’t a bad age difference. Certainly nothing like eleven years. Or was it twelve? Right, that was neither here nor there. But Percy was definitely wrong when it came to Sirius’s motivations in setting them up. In fact, he was certain Sirius hadn’t purposefully selected Percy. He wouldn’t have, would he? He’d put out those ads and had awaited responses. Surely he would’ve inquired with Percy beforehand, to see if he was even remotely interested in men before sticking him on a blind date with him. Sirius was all sorts of mischievous, but he would never do something like that. Probably.
Still, he wasn’t telling Percy that. “Probably,” he lied, the word coming out smooth. “Can I get you something to drink? Something to eat? A bit of both? I’m famished.”
“A bit of both sounds superb,” Percy replied with a shy smile. Before, his appetite had been ruined with butterflies and other unpleasant things twisting in his stomach. Without any expectations, he was relaxed just enough to know he could drink and eat with no need to get anxious about what he should eat and whether the other person might be disgusted by what he put in his mouth.
“I must, however, insist that I pay for the meal. I did trouble you to stay for it despite the, ah, misunderstanding,” Percy said, choosing his words carefully.
“Alright,” Remus agreed after thinking about it for a moment. He didn’t want Percy to feel obligated for having asked him to stay. “Alright, you’ll pay for the food, I’ll pay for the drinks. What will you have? I’ll just pop over to give Voldemort our order.” It was only once the words had been spoken that Remus realised how bitter he sounded. And of course he was, why shouldn’t he be? Who knew what he would do to everyone, considering that almost the entire island came here at least once a week, depending on him for their alcoholic needs. Still, it had been meant as a lighthearted comment that had flopped.
“Voldemort?” Percy flinched. He hoped this was a joke that went over his head. “You’re, ah, joking, right?” A wide-eyed gaze darted over to the bar. “He works here?” Yes, Percy was sheltered. He didn’t often come to the pub. He hoped Remus was having the mickey on him.
“He’s the bartender. He goes by Tom Riddle here.” It seemed impossible to Remus that people weren’t aware of this very important fact. He’d written something in the journal informing everyone of his presence here, but clearly not everyone had been paying attention. Those who had arrived later, too, he supposed, wouldn’t be aware.
“Oh,” Percy said eloquently. He felt uncharacteristically daft for not being aware of such information. Tom Riddle had possessed Ginny and made her do terrible things. He was responsible for Fred’s death. Why hadn’t he known?
He had known Voldemort was somewhere on the island, present and younger. He had known because he had had to stop Fred from foolishly going after the man. But after that, Percy had not sought more information about the man. He had let it go, hoping if he didn’t pry or provoke anyone, his family would remain out of harm’s way. But Percy felt absent-minded for not going a step further and figuring out where the man worked. He should have known what places to avoid.
“I don’t come to the pub very much,” he admitted, lamely excusing his ignorance. “Is it safe to eat and drink here?” Percy couldn’t recall anyone being poisoned. Or anyone being hurt. For all he knew, however, Tom Riddle was good at sweeping his messes under the rug.
“So far, he doesn’t seem to have done much to discourage people from coming here.” Remus gave a shrug. Percy clearly felt a bit ashamed at not having noticed or paid attention and he couldn’t help but feel that he had every reason to feel that way. It annoyed him, how everyone ignored this man’s presence. That Lily would call him ‘love’ and then snap at him for pointing it out. It was as though everyone wanted to pretend that everything was alright because they were on this island. Stranded. It would probably be too much for everyone if they had to recognize the fact that they were stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere with Voldemort. “I imagine he’s waiting for everyone to get so used to having him around that they wouldn’t even question it if they fell ill from the pub, and get as many people at once as possible. It’s a bit of a gamble, but I don’t think he’ll be poisoning us just now; the pub only just reopened. He needs to get his old clientele back.”
Percy wondered what the man was biding his time for.. What was he planning to do? They were trapped like rats on the island. Some with only enough magic to levitate a feather, and some with no magic whatsoever. Panic would be stirred if Tom Riddle began to pose an actual threat to safety.
“Well, if you think it’s safe..” Percy said hesitantly. He would trust Remus’s intuition and put his darker thoughts to rest for now. “I would like a glass of white wine and an order of fish and chips.”
“I think if people were getting sick, they might stop coming by. So if he were to do anything, he’d have to do it all at once and get as many victims as possible in one go. That’s why I think it’s probably safe for now,” Remus explained, and then went off to give their orders, returning a short moment later with the two glasses of wine, one of which he handed to Percy. “The tall bloke at the bar will give us a shout when our food’s ready. What were we talking about?”
“Thank you,” Percy said, accepting a glass of wine and smiling tentatively. It was bizarre, being handed an alcoholic beverage by his former professor. More bizarre that this could have been a date.
“We were talking about Tom Riddle, but I think a topic change would be in order,” he replied, but before he offered one, Percy sipped his wine. “Perhaps you can explain why you’re going on these blind dates arranged by Sirius?”
Remus’s face opened up in surprise at the incredibly personal question, and he hid behind his glass of wine as he took a sip. What to say? Tell the truth, the whole sordid truth, that he was a lonely man made lonelier by luggage? That he was interested in an unattainable Sirius and that he was looking for distraction? Could any answer even remotely related to the truth be acceptable to one of his poor victims?
He couldn’t even look at Percy, staring instead into his wine as shame made his face heat up. He should know better. He was probably the oldest person on the island and one would think that at thirty-two, after decades of loneliness, one might have come to terms with one’s solitude. Not everyone could have their special someone and it was ludicrous to think that there would be someone out there for him, for the ripped up lycanthrope Remus Lupin. He was past the age for fairy tales and yet that fucking baggage had him clinging to it harder than ever.
“It’s.” Remus took a deep breath and exhaled in a sigh. What was he going to do? Lie? Of course not. “It’s the luggage, it’s making me want to have that connection with someone. I’ve never had it and I. I wanted to see if I could find it. Sirius is only helping.” Really. Only helping.
Only belatedly, when Remus seemed to struggle for words, did Percy realise that perhaps his question was delving past the close and personal boundaries. His mouth formed a small ‘o’ but it was too late to withdraw the question. He was curious, for one. For another, Remus answered and didn’t seemed to be holding anything back. Percy could relate to his predicament far too well.
“Knowing you’re married– or will be married– that doesn’t help curb the desire? Knowing you will some day attain that connection?” Percy couldn’t refrain from asking. “I’m surprised you couldn’t reconnect with Nymphadora, we share the same bungalow, you know,” he blundered on, unwittingly.
“It may be a small consolation to know I’m having a similar baggage problem..” Percy trailed off, uncertain if he should share or Remus would be interested to hear him even if he did decide to open up.
“Knowing I get married is... strange and unbelievable,” Remus answered, far more comfortable with the topic now that he knew that Percy wasn’t going to mock him. And after all, they were relatively close in age, both men... Knowing that Percy was in a similar situation really did put him at ease, even if the topic itself made him uncomfortable. “The problem with reconnecting with someone is that you need to have connected with them before, and I haven’t. I couldn’t start the relationship off where she’d left it, she had years on me. And apparently she’s now interested in someone named Oliver.” Remus shrugged. Who she was interested in now didn’t really matter, did it? The end result was still the same.
“You do?” Remus’s previously wry or sad expression turned thoughtful as he set his glass down on the table and tilted his head in the very image of someone ready to listen.
“Ah, yes, there is that..” Percy trailed off, feeling a little dense for bringing up Tonks when he had known about Oliver. His friend had told him about his date as though he were describing a victorious Quidditch match. Which said a lot.
It was an immense relief to know Remus knew about Oliver and Tonks. Percy didn’t want to betray his friend’s confidence, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have wanted Remus to be unaware of who his future-wife was dating. He respected the man too much to lie through omittance. It spared him a very conflicted situation.
“I suppose it’s for the best. You’re free to make a connection with someone, and not just because that connection was already made,” he said in a valiant attempt to be optimistic.
“My luggage is– um– well–” Percy floundered for words when Remus focused all his attention on him. The man seemed to be listening too intently. It unnerved him, but Percy didn’t want to clam up when Remus had been so honest and open to him. There could have been a furnace in the tip of each one of his ears, the way they burned. Dropping his voice, he whispered, “I hope you won’t think less of me, but it’s about my fear of never having you-know-what. That’s why I agreed to this blind date.”
Percy realised, too late, how wrong that sounded.
“Not that I was expecting anything of the such after one date!” he protested at once.
His fear of having you-know-what? What was you-know-what? And what did it have to do with a date?
Oh.
Remus might’ve blinked about fifty times before he felt himself able to speak again. Unlike certain other people he knew, Remus wasn’t about to laugh or point out Percy’s age and ask questions like ‘how is that even possible?’ Remus knew how it was possible. It was very easy.
“No, of course not. And I understand what you mean,” he confided, taking up his glass again, simply so he had something in his hands. “I’ve only had it the once. I can tell you... Well, it was a nice experience, but it didn’t blow my mind, shall we say. May I ask... why are you afraid of never having it? Why does it make you nervous?”
Had Percy not the presence of mind, he might have been agog. Remus had only had sexual intercourse once? It was, for reasons unknown, nearly unbelievable. Perhaps because he was an easy man to get along with, laidback and mindful, and quite good looking in his own right.
“There’s no precise one reason..” Percy trailed off, continuing to pass through shades of pink to red, a full spectrum of blushes. It hardly seemed appropriate to talk about, but he continued to think back to what Lily told him. Talking helped, and hiding didn’t. “My mother, for one, expects me to have children, and I’d hate to disappoint her.” That was the logical, least embarrassing reason of all.
Percy had to take a bigger sip of wine before he continued to talk. “Less prudently.. I want to know what it feels like. I don’t want it to be a casual affair, however. I want to make love, but I’m afraid my own reservations and lack of attractive features will prevent me from ever finding someone I can be that vulnerable around.”
Percy’s mother, as Remus understood it, very much wanted grandchildren. She also had several children to help make that happen. While Remus understood the pressure one’s parents might place on their children and a child’s desire to make their parents proud, he didn’t think it particularly fair of Molly to demand that each of her children reproduce. Remus knew Molly. He didn’t think she had. As far as Remus was concerned, this was all Percy. Of course he couldn’t really be sure; the Molly he remembered was significantly younger.
Remus was quiet until long after Percy was done speaking. He understood all too well. In some ways, they had the same problem; Remus was only being pickier. He understood, too, the curiosity one might have concerning that act. After all, his one sexual encounter hadn’t been borne of love, but of curiosity. Maybe a little from jealousy as well. It wasn’t something Remus was proud of.
“Your reservations might, but I wouldn’t discount your appearance,” he told Percy honestly. “You’re an attractive man. I’m sure someone will see as much.” The tall man at the counter appeared at his elbow and Remus excused himself to get their food.
“Ah.. thank you?” Percy didn’t know how to respond to such a compliment. He also didn’t know his face could burn so much. He never knew it until Remus told him he was attractive. For once, Percy was thankful for the dim pub lighting. There was nothing to hide behind save for his glass of wine. Which did not help ease the blood suffusing across his cheeks. The timing of their food was some kind of gift from Merlin. While Remus went to get it, Percy took in a few deep breaths, and when Remus returned, the colour in his face had significantly faded.
After thanking Remus, Percy couldn’t contain his curiousity. Not after he’d been told that he wasn’t all that bad looking. “Since we’re both being bold.. Are you attracted to men as well as women? You never did tell me whether you were expecting a woman instead of me or not.”
“I am attracted to both,” Remus admitted. It wasn’t an easy thing to admit to, but Percy had been brave enough to ask, and they’d both shared information about themselves that was far more personal than that. And it was the truth. If it hadn’t been for the facts that Percy had expected a woman, clearly not attracted to men and that Percy was a future student, Remus would’ve been glad for a date with him. A real one. Sirius had almost been on to something.
Too bad.
“I sincerely hope you find the right woman for you,” said Remus as he plucked a chip from his plate. “I’m sure you will.”
Percy had never thought to explore the bisexual option. He didn’t know if he would, either. It certainly would have opened up some doors, but when Remus said the words, ‘the right woman for you’, a name and a face – surprisingly and almost startlingly – came to mind with stark clarity.
“I hope you’re right,” Percy said, smiling. “I hope the same for you, be it a connection with a man or a woman. I think you’ll find that person.”