GO/HP crossover
Post HBP fic. Contains Remus/Sirius, hints of Brian/Wensleydale and references to a Remus/Tonks break-up.
The voice over the loud speaker was very sorry to announce that the train to Manchester Airport was going to be delayed for another hour.
Remus sank back onto the uncomfortable plastic seating on which he and his luggage were residing and tried to tell himself that he wasn’t running away. He was usually able to perform to Grade A standards when it came to denial and self-delusion, but even a lifetimes practise at these rather dubious arts wasn’t enough to banish the all of the niggling, uncomfortable thoughts that were currently preying on him, to the deep and suitably inaccessible realms of his unconscious mind to which all the things he didn’t want to dwell upon were usually exiled.
A blast of icy February wind shot across the platform. Shuddering, he found himself wishing that he hadn’t packed his wand at the bottom of the suitcase; after all, a simple warming charm was all it would take to get him from cold and miserable to merely miserable. This really was an unpleasant place. He had, of course, used the Muggle rail network several times before; but had never been forced to wait in quite as dilapidated and depressing an inner-city station as this before. Despite the multitude of tired-looking people milling around, one couldn’t help but feel thoroughly isolated. It was almost enough to make him regret not taken the Knight Bus, but half an hour of being recognised and talked at by his fellow wizards and witches was more than he felt he could stand.
A glance at the clock on one of the grafitti endowed wall revealed that it was only half-past six. Ten minutes since he’d last checked. It seemed almost as though time itself was slowing to a halt. He was about to lapse into another round of wondering whether anybody had noticed that he’d gone yet, when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. Looking up, he saw a neatly dressed young man with light brown hair standing beside him.
“Excuse me,” said the young man apprehensively. “Do you mind if I sit there?”
Remus saw that he was gesturing to the seat currently occupied by the suitcase and promptly moved the bulky trunk to the floor. “Of course, of course.” He forced a half-smile, supposing that he should be grateful for this diversion from his moping.
“Are you waiting for the train to the airport too?” the young man asked, his polite tones undercut by a seam of deep annoyance.
Remus nodded sympathetically.
“Ridiculous, isn’t it? They don’t even have the ‘wrong type of snow on the line’ excuse this time.”
Remus gave another half-smile. “Maybe it’s the wrong sort of rain.” It wasn’t a particularly funny remark but the boy snorted politely anyway.
“Knowing this place it’ll be the wrong sort of litter. Good job I set off three hours early. Would have missed my flight otherwise.”
“Where are you going?” In all honesty he wasn’t particularly interested in the young man’s destination, but it seemed like the courteous thing to ask.
“Boston,” the young man replied. “I’m going to finish my economics degree in the US.”
“Economics eh, that sounds….”
“Boring,” the young man said with a wry smile, “most people think so, but you’d be amazed at how interesting it can be, for instance did you know that… I’m going to stop talking about it now before I manage to convince you that it is actually extremely boring.” He sighed. “Bit like me really.”
“Nonsense,” said Remus with faux-cheeriness, the part of him that was forever designated ‘caretaker of young people’ coming to the fore. “I’m sure you’re very interesting. You shouldn’t do yourself down.”
The young man shook his head. “My friends don’t think I’m interesting.”
“Oh?”
“My friend Pepper’s always making joke about me being no fun to be around. My friend Brian told me flat out that he thought I was the most mind numbingly dull person he’d ever met, after I got angry at him for getting blind drunk and throwing up on my bedroom carpet. And my friend Adam’s, well… Adam’s just Adam.”
“Yes, but haven’t you ever teased your friends, or said something nasty and unpleasant about them because you were annoyed; something you didn’t really mean?”
The young man shrugged and looked down at the floor. “I suppose so. And I suppose that I could put up with Pepper’s jokes, because she makes them about everybody. But Brian… Brian said it like he really meant it; and he hasn’t spoken to me since.”
Remus couldn’t help to think back to the days when he, Sirius, James and Peter used to fall out like that. Of course, as they’d got older Remus had found himself increasingly being assigned the role of peacekeeper. “And have you tried to talk to him?”
The young man shifted uncomfortably. “Well, no but….” He trailed off for a few seconds. “I suppose I thought that he should be the one to apologise. I mean, he was the one who was sick all over the carpet. But he didn’t and that made things awkward between me and the other two. Then this opportunity to study aboard came up and I decided to take it just to get away from things. I mean, I know I should’ve tried to talk thinks out, but I just couldn’t.” He paused again. “You must think that I’m a total coward.”
Remus thought of the invitation to the wedding of one Harry Potter that lay in his coat pocket. “Well if you are then so am I.”
“You’re leaving the country to get away from your ex-friends too?”
“Ex-fiancé.”
The young man made a sympathetic gesture. “Ah.”
“Of course,” Remus continued with forced joviality, “we never actually formally ended the relationship.”
His expression went from sympathetic to puzzled.
“I walked in on her being taken from behind over the kitchen table by Charlie Weasley. I didn’t want to make too much of a fuss so I walked straight back out and got on the first Mug…er, train I could find.”
“Wow, that’s… that’s horrible. I’m really sorry.”
Remus shook his head. “Don’t be. It was partly, well, if I’m honest, mostly my fault anyway. Things started to go rapidly downhill after the night I got blind drunk and asked her to transform into… er, I mean, dress up as my dead lover.” Realising he’d said entirely too much he looked, slightly mortified, at the young man’s face and winced at the shocked expression thereon. “Oh god,” he said, clasping his head with his hands, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to let everything come out like that.”
The young man continued to look utterly stunned for a few more moments before giving a small shrug. “I think that under those circumstances nobody could blame you for wanting to get away. Makes my problems seem a bit insignificant anyway.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” said Remus gently, surprised and faintly impressed that the boy hadn’t, upon hearing the gory details of the demise of the relationship between Remus Lupin and Nyphadora Tonks, made his excuses and beat a hasty retreat. “Friends are important. My real problem is that Harry’s getting married next week.”
“Harry?”
“He’s… well, my unofficial godson.”
“And you’re not going to his wedding?”
“Well the thing is that Nymphadora - that’s my ex-fiancé - well, she’ll be there too. It’d be too embarrassing to show up. Too many awkward questions.” An image of a bustling, well meaning and pathologically nosy Molly Weasley asking him when he and Nymphadora would be tying the knot, popped unbidden into his head.
“But he’s your godson. Well, unofficial godson.”
“I know. And I know that the right thing to do would be to go; but I just don’t think that I could face it.”
The young man didn’t say anything, but Remus could feel the wave of low level disapproval radiating from him. Uncertain as he was as to why the opinion of a stranger should suddenly matter so much, he nevertheless felt a desperate need to try and justify things. “It’s like you not being able to talk to your friends. You know that you probably should, but you just can’t.”
It was several minutes before the young man broke his silence. “I think,” he said slowly. “That if you could go to Harry’s wedding; I could make an effort to sort things out with my friends.”
He extended his hand.
Against almost every screaming inclination in his body Remus found himself taking it.
“Deal?”
“Deal.”
Unseen by both Remus and his fellow traveller another young man, one with golden curls, stood behind a nearby concrete pillar and smiled. He knew that to alter events so that Wensleydale returned to Tadfield would be to violate the promise he’d made to himself and the world shortly after his eleventh birthday; but he’d followed his friend here nonetheless, hoping that some change of heart or quirk of fate would compel him to head back home.
A wave of warm thanks radiated in the direction of the careworn man with whom Wensley was conversing.
“Don’t you worry Remus Lupin. I know all about you.”
**********
Remus remained sitting in the station long after Wensleydale had gone.
Having decided to remain in the country long enough to attend Harry’s wedding, he really wasn’t sure where to go. The house he’d been sharing with Nymphadora was out of the question, as was the home of any of their friends. There was, of course, the Leaky Cauldron; but that also held the probability that somebody would ‘make enquiries’.
He was contemplating whether there were any Muggle hotels in London at which he could afford to reside when a very odd train pulled up at the platform in front of him. It seemed exactly like every other Muggle train he’d seen that day apart from three rather striking things. The first was that it had a ‘just cleaned’ look about it that Remus had previously thought impossible for any vehicle utilised by the British public transport system. The second was that none of the other people on the platform seemed to have noted its arrival and seemed to be staring right through it. The third was that it appeared to be glowing.
The automatic doors opened.
Remus found himself inexplicably holding his breath.
A figure emerged from the second carriage. It was a dark haired man, bedraggled, slightly underweight, yet still retaining the vestiges of great good looks.
Remus gasped. It wasn’t possible, there was no way that he could be here, no way that …. “Sirius?”
The man looked dazed for a moment before proceeding, at great speed, to run over to Remus and throw his arms around him.
In the first moments of the reunion Remus was certain that he heard him mumble the words: ‘heaven’, ‘paperwork’, ‘bloody beaurocrats’, ‘pompous twit Gabriel’, ‘furious’ and ‘antichrist’, but didn’t particularly care. He had Sirius back.
The voice over the loud speaker was very sorry to announce that the train to Manchester Airport was going to be delayed for another hour.
Remus sank back onto the uncomfortable plastic seating on which he and his luggage were residing and tried to tell himself that he wasn’t running away. He was usually able to perform to Grade A standards when it came to denial and self-delusion, but even a lifetimes practise at these rather dubious arts wasn’t enough to banish the all of the niggling, uncomfortable thoughts that were currently preying on him, to the deep and suitably inaccessible realms of his unconscious mind to which all the things he didn’t want to dwell upon were usually exiled.
A blast of icy February wind shot across the platform. Shuddering, he found himself wishing that he hadn’t packed his wand at the bottom of the suitcase; after all, a simple warming charm was all it would take to get him from cold and miserable to merely miserable. This really was an unpleasant place. He had, of course, used the Muggle rail network several times before; but had never been forced to wait in quite as dilapidated and depressing an inner-city station as this before. Despite the multitude of tired-looking people milling around, one couldn’t help but feel thoroughly isolated. It was almost enough to make him regret not taken the Knight Bus, but half an hour of being recognised and talked at by his fellow wizards and witches was more than he felt he could stand.
A glance at the clock on one of the grafitti endowed wall revealed that it was only half-past six. Ten minutes since he’d last checked. It seemed almost as though time itself was slowing to a halt. He was about to lapse into another round of wondering whether anybody had noticed that he’d gone yet, when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. Looking up, he saw a neatly dressed young man with light brown hair standing beside him.
“Excuse me,” said the young man apprehensively. “Do you mind if I sit there?”
Remus saw that he was gesturing to the seat currently occupied by the suitcase and promptly moved the bulky trunk to the floor. “Of course, of course.” He forced a half-smile, supposing that he should be grateful for this diversion from his moping.
“Are you waiting for the train to the airport too?” the young man asked, his polite tones undercut by a seam of deep annoyance.
Remus nodded sympathetically.
“Ridiculous, isn’t it? They don’t even have the ‘wrong type of snow on the line’ excuse this time.”
Remus gave another half-smile. “Maybe it’s the wrong sort of rain.” It wasn’t a particularly funny remark but the boy snorted politely anyway.
“Knowing this place it’ll be the wrong sort of litter. Good job I set off three hours early. Would have missed my flight otherwise.”
“Where are you going?” In all honesty he wasn’t particularly interested in the young man’s destination, but it seemed like the courteous thing to ask.
“Boston,” the young man replied. “I’m going to finish my economics degree in the US.”
“Economics eh, that sounds….”
“Boring,” the young man said with a wry smile, “most people think so, but you’d be amazed at how interesting it can be, for instance did you know that… I’m going to stop talking about it now before I manage to convince you that it is actually extremely boring.” He sighed. “Bit like me really.”
“Nonsense,” said Remus with faux-cheeriness, the part of him that was forever designated ‘caretaker of young people’ coming to the fore. “I’m sure you’re very interesting. You shouldn’t do yourself down.”
The young man shook his head. “My friends don’t think I’m interesting.”
“Oh?”
“My friend Pepper’s always making joke about me being no fun to be around. My friend Brian told me flat out that he thought I was the most mind numbingly dull person he’d ever met, after I got angry at him for getting blind drunk and throwing up on my bedroom carpet. And my friend Adam’s, well… Adam’s just Adam.”
“Yes, but haven’t you ever teased your friends, or said something nasty and unpleasant about them because you were annoyed; something you didn’t really mean?”
The young man shrugged and looked down at the floor. “I suppose so. And I suppose that I could put up with Pepper’s jokes, because she makes them about everybody. But Brian… Brian said it like he really meant it; and he hasn’t spoken to me since.”
Remus couldn’t help to think back to the days when he, Sirius, James and Peter used to fall out like that. Of course, as they’d got older Remus had found himself increasingly being assigned the role of peacekeeper. “And have you tried to talk to him?”
The young man shifted uncomfortably. “Well, no but….” He trailed off for a few seconds. “I suppose I thought that he should be the one to apologise. I mean, he was the one who was sick all over the carpet. But he didn’t and that made things awkward between me and the other two. Then this opportunity to study aboard came up and I decided to take it just to get away from things. I mean, I know I should’ve tried to talk thinks out, but I just couldn’t.” He paused again. “You must think that I’m a total coward.”
Remus thought of the invitation to the wedding of one Harry Potter that lay in his coat pocket. “Well if you are then so am I.”
“You’re leaving the country to get away from your ex-friends too?”
“Ex-fiancé.”
The young man made a sympathetic gesture. “Ah.”
“Of course,” Remus continued with forced joviality, “we never actually formally ended the relationship.”
His expression went from sympathetic to puzzled.
“I walked in on her being taken from behind over the kitchen table by Charlie Weasley. I didn’t want to make too much of a fuss so I walked straight back out and got on the first Mug…er, train I could find.”
“Wow, that’s… that’s horrible. I’m really sorry.”
Remus shook his head. “Don’t be. It was partly, well, if I’m honest, mostly my fault anyway. Things started to go rapidly downhill after the night I got blind drunk and asked her to transform into… er, I mean, dress up as my dead lover.” Realising he’d said entirely too much he looked, slightly mortified, at the young man’s face and winced at the shocked expression thereon. “Oh god,” he said, clasping his head with his hands, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to let everything come out like that.”
The young man continued to look utterly stunned for a few more moments before giving a small shrug. “I think that under those circumstances nobody could blame you for wanting to get away. Makes my problems seem a bit insignificant anyway.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” said Remus gently, surprised and faintly impressed that the boy hadn’t, upon hearing the gory details of the demise of the relationship between Remus Lupin and Nyphadora Tonks, made his excuses and beat a hasty retreat. “Friends are important. My real problem is that Harry’s getting married next week.”
“Harry?”
“He’s… well, my unofficial godson.”
“And you’re not going to his wedding?”
“Well the thing is that Nymphadora - that’s my ex-fiancé - well, she’ll be there too. It’d be too embarrassing to show up. Too many awkward questions.” An image of a bustling, well meaning and pathologically nosy Molly Weasley asking him when he and Nymphadora would be tying the knot, popped unbidden into his head.
“But he’s your godson. Well, unofficial godson.”
“I know. And I know that the right thing to do would be to go; but I just don’t think that I could face it.”
The young man didn’t say anything, but Remus could feel the wave of low level disapproval radiating from him. Uncertain as he was as to why the opinion of a stranger should suddenly matter so much, he nevertheless felt a desperate need to try and justify things. “It’s like you not being able to talk to your friends. You know that you probably should, but you just can’t.”
It was several minutes before the young man broke his silence. “I think,” he said slowly. “That if you could go to Harry’s wedding; I could make an effort to sort things out with my friends.”
He extended his hand.
Against almost every screaming inclination in his body Remus found himself taking it.
“Deal?”
“Deal.”
Unseen by both Remus and his fellow traveller another young man, one with golden curls, stood behind a nearby concrete pillar and smiled. He knew that to alter events so that Wensleydale returned to Tadfield would be to violate the promise he’d made to himself and the world shortly after his eleventh birthday; but he’d followed his friend here nonetheless, hoping that some change of heart or quirk of fate would compel him to head back home.
A wave of warm thanks radiated in the direction of the careworn man with whom Wensley was conversing.
“Don’t you worry Remus Lupin. I know all about you.”
**********
Remus remained sitting in the station long after Wensleydale had gone.
Having decided to remain in the country long enough to attend Harry’s wedding, he really wasn’t sure where to go. The house he’d been sharing with Nymphadora was out of the question, as was the home of any of their friends. There was, of course, the Leaky Cauldron; but that also held the probability that somebody would ‘make enquiries’.
He was contemplating whether there were any Muggle hotels in London at which he could afford to reside when a very odd train pulled up at the platform in front of him. It seemed exactly like every other Muggle train he’d seen that day apart from three rather striking things. The first was that it had a ‘just cleaned’ look about it that Remus had previously thought impossible for any vehicle utilised by the British public transport system. The second was that none of the other people on the platform seemed to have noted its arrival and seemed to be staring right through it. The third was that it appeared to be glowing.
The automatic doors opened.
Remus found himself inexplicably holding his breath.
A figure emerged from the second carriage. It was a dark haired man, bedraggled, slightly underweight, yet still retaining the vestiges of great good looks.
Remus gasped. It wasn’t possible, there was no way that he could be here, no way that …. “Sirius?”
The man looked dazed for a moment before proceeding, at great speed, to run over to Remus and throw his arms around him.
In the first moments of the reunion Remus was certain that he heard him mumble the words: ‘heaven’, ‘paperwork’, ‘bloody beaurocrats’, ‘pompous twit Gabriel’, ‘furious’ and ‘antichrist’, but didn’t particularly care. He had Sirius back.