Chapter Text
11 07 1973
REMUS
The first thing Remus noticed about the house was the noise.
Not bad noise.
Not shouting. Not doors slamming. Not Uncle Keir's voice cutting through the air like a blade.
This noise was alive.
Someone laughing in the kitchen. A dog barking somewhere down the hall. Jazzy humming loudly and terribly off-key. Fei's mother calling for someone named Cooper to stop leaving shoes in the walkway unless he wanted her to charm them to the ceiling.
A radio played somewhere in the background, crackling with an old wizarding jazz tune. Pots clinked together in the kitchen. Floorboards creaked overhead as someone ran across the second floor.
It sounded messy.
It sounded crowded.
It sounded loved.
Remus stood in the entryway with his trunk beside him and his hands tight around the strap of his satchel, unsure what to do with all of it.
He'd spent so much of his life trying not to take up space that being offered some felt almost frightening.
Fei bumped his shoulder gently.
"Breathe," she whispered.
"I am breathing," he whispered back.
"You look like you're preparing for an execution."
He glanced at her.
She gave him a small smile.
Before he could answer, Jazzy appeared from around the corner, eyes wide and curious.
"So you're Remus."
Remus blinked.
"Yes."
Jazzy looked him up and down with the seriousness of someone inspecting a rare magical creature.
Then he grinned.
"I'm Jazzy. I'm seven. Almost eight. I write songs."
"That's... impressive."
"I know."
Fei snorted.
Then Cooper appeared, taller than Jazzy, quieter too, with cautious eyes and a careful smile.
"Hey," Cooper said. "You're staying in the guest room, right?"
Remus looked toward Fei's mother.
She smiled gently.
"Your room, sweetheart. Not the guest room."
Your room.
The words landed strangely.
Remus followed them down the hall, up the stairs, past framed photographs and crooked crayon drawings pinned to the walls. There were family pictures everywhere. Birthday parties, beach days, school portraits, snapshots of people laughing when they didn't know a camera was nearby.
The staircase banister had been painted blue at some point, though little chips of white still peeked through underneath. The house wasn't perfect.
It felt lived in.
The hallway upstairs stretched beneath slanted ceilings and warm yellow light. Doors stood partially open, revealing glimpses of lives already happening inside them.
"That's my room," Jazzy announced proudly, pointing at a door covered in handwritten song lyrics taped to the wood.
"You mean the room Mum keeps threatening to excavate," Fei said.
"It has organization."
"It has three months of dirty socks."
Jazzy looked offended.
Cooper pointed further down the hall.
"Mine's there."
Then Fei gestured toward a door painted dark blue.
"And mine's right across from yours."
Remus glanced up.
Directly across the hallway.
Close enough that she could probably hear him if he called.
The thought settled somewhere warm inside his chest.
At the very end of the hall, Fei's mother opened a door.
"Here we are."
Remus stepped inside.
And stopped.
Sunlight spilled through a large window overlooking rolling fields and distant trees. White curtains fluttered softly in the summer breeze. Dust motes danced lazily in golden shafts of afternoon light.
The bed beneath the window was neatly made with a thick quilt stitched from mismatched squares of blue, gold, and green fabric. A stack of pillows rested against the headboard.
Not one pillow.
Three.
As though someone expected him to stay long enough to decide which one he liked best.
Against one wall stood a wooden bookshelf.
Not empty.
There were already books on it.
A mixture of adventure stories, magical encyclopedias, old novels, and creature guides.
Someone had tried to guess what he might enjoy.
A desk sat beneath the opposite wall with fresh parchment stacked neatly beside an ink bottle and several unused quills.
Unused.
Waiting.
Beside the desk sat a small wooden chest.
Across from the bed stood a wardrobe large enough to actually hold clothing instead of being stuffed beyond reason.
And beside the bed rested a little crescent-moon lamp.
Remus stared at it for far too long.
Nobody spoke.
The room wasn't expensive.
It wasn't grand.
But every corner of it carried the same message.
Someone had thought about him.
Someone had prepared for him.
Someone had wanted him here.
His throat tightened painfully.
Fei's mother shifted beside him.
"We can change anything you don't like."
"No," Remus said immediately.
Too quickly.
Too desperately.
His voice cracked.
"No, it's... it's perfect."
The room blurred slightly.
He blinked hard.
Jazzy squeezed past everyone and immediately launched himself onto the bed.
"It passes inspection."
"Jazzy."
"What?"
Fei's mother folded her arms.
"What are you doing?"
"Testing."
"You're not supposed to test other people's beds."
"How else will he know if it's comfortable?"
Cooper leaned against the doorframe.
"He does this with every bed."
"And every chair," Fei added.
"One time he tested a laundry basket."
"It failed."
Jazzy nodded solemnly.
"Catastrophically."
Remus laughed before he could stop himself.
The sound startled him.
It felt strange in his mouth.
Like something he'd forgotten how to do.
Later that night, after dinner and introductions and far too much food, Remus sat at his new desk staring at a blank piece of parchment.
The room was quiet now.
Outside the window, crickets sang beneath the fading summer sky.
His trunk sat unpacked beside the wardrobe.
His books rested on the shelves.
His clothes hung neatly where they belonged.
Belonged.
The word still felt foreign.
Slowly, Remus dipped his quill into ink.
Dear Sirius,
I survived the journey.
Barely.
There is a child here who writes songs about absolutely everything.
Today he wrote one about potatoes.
It had three verses.
By the time he finished describing Jazzy's latest musical masterpiece, Remus was smiling.
A sharp knock interrupted him.
Before he could answer, the door flew open.
Fei marched inside holding three crumpled letters.
Remus immediately recognized James Potter's handwriting.
"Oh no."
"Exactly."
She dropped dramatically into the desk chair opposite him.
"He is impossible."
Remus set down his quill.
"What happened?"
"What happened?"
Fei held up a letter.
"This happened."
She cleared her throat dramatically.
"'Loes, I have officially determined that summer holidays are cruel and unusual punishment.'"
Remus snorted.
She ignored him.
"'I attempted to practice Quidditch today but unfortunately nobody was present to appreciate my brilliance.'"
"Sounds like James."
"That's not even the worst part."
She grabbed another letter.
"'Please inform Lupin that I beat Peter at wizard chess. Do not ask Peter for confirmation because he is bitter.'"
Remus laughed.
"I don't see the problem."
"The problem is that he writes like this every three days."
She pointed accusingly at the parchment.
"He sent me four pages describing a garden gnome."
"A particularly interesting gnome?"
"No!"
Remus was laughing properly now.
Fei groaned.
"I don't understand how someone can have so many thoughts."
"You're one to talk."
She gasped.
"I have excellent thoughts."
"Yesterday you spent twenty minutes explaining why toast should be considered a separate food group."
"Because it should."
The argument continued for another ten minutes.
By the time Fei finally stood to leave, both of them were smiling.
At the doorway, she paused.
Her expression softened.
"You like the room?"
Remus looked around.
The bed.
The bookshelf.
The moon lamp.
The desk.
The letters.
The home.
"Yeah," he said quietly.
For the first time in a very long time, he truly meant it.
"Yeah. I really do."
Fei smiled.
Then she disappeared back across the hall, leaving her door cracked open as she went.
Remus sat alone for a moment.
Not lonely.
Just alone.
There was a difference.
And for perhaps the first time in his life, he was beginning to learn what it felt like.
15 07 1973
JAZZY
The moon rose pale and enormous over the field, silvering the grass until the whole world looked like it belonged to a dream.
Jazzy stood on the porch steps with both hands wrapped around the railing, his chin barely clearing the top. The night hummed around him. Crickets in the weeds, wind through the trees, the low creak of the fence posts settling in the dark.
Out in the field, Remus was changing.
Jazzy was told not to be scared.
His mum had crouched in front of him earlier, hands warm on his shoulders, and said, “He’s still Remus, even when he looks different.”
Fei said it too, sharper, like she dared the world to argue. “He won’t hurt us. He just needs somewhere safe.”
But Jazzy still imagined teeth. Claws. Screaming.
He did not imagine this.
Remus was on his knees in the middle of the fenced field, fingers digging into the grass, his back bowing beneath the moonlight. His breath came ragged and harsh, a sound that made Jazzy’s chest ache even though he did not fully understand why.
Then Remus cried out.
Jazzy flinched.
Behind him, his mum whispered, “Don’t look away.”
So Jazzy didn’t.
The boy was gone now.
Not gone gone.
But changed.
Where Remus had been, something large and silver-brown stood in the field, breathing hard beneath the moon. Its fur rippled in the night wind. Its ears twitched. Its claws dug into the dirt.
Jazzy held his breath.
The wolf lifted its head.
For one long second, it looked toward the porch.
Jazzy should have been frightened.
Instead, he felt something else entirely.
Wonder.
Because the wolf did not throw itself against the fence. It did not snarl toward the house. It did not break or bleed or howl like something trapped inside a nightmare.
It ran.
The wolf sprang forward, tearing across the field beneath the stars, fast and wild and free. Grass bent under its paws. Moonlight caught along its back. It circled the fence once, twice, then bounded toward the far end of the field like it had been waiting its whole life for enough space to move.
Jazzy’s mouth fell open.
His mum let out a shaky breath behind him.
Fei stood very still beside the porch post, her eyes glassy.
The wolf ran and ran and ran.
And Jazzy, watching his new brother beneath the moon, whispered, “He’s beautiful.”
16 07 1973
REMUS
Remus woke to the smell of eggs.
For a moment, he did not know where he was.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar. The blanket beneath his fingers was soft. Morning sunlight spilled through the curtains, painting pale gold stripes across the quilt at the foot of his bed.
His body ached, but not in the usual way.
Not torn open.
Not shattered.
Not stitched together by pain and shame.
Just sore.
Deeply, horribly sore.
Like he had spent the entire night running.
Slowly, memories drifted back.
The field.
The moon.
The grass beneath his paws.
Freedom.
His chest tightened.
He blinked hard and stared at the ceiling.
The door opened with a quiet creak.
Fei's mother stepped inside carrying a steaming mug.
She smiled when she saw he was awake.
"Good morning."
Remus pushed himself upright.
Immediately regretted it.
Every muscle protested.
A small sound escaped him before he could stop it.
Fei's mother crossed the room at once.
"Easy," she said. "No rush."
"I'm all right."
"I'll believe that when you stop looking like a haunted broomstick."
Despite himself, Remus smiled.
Just a little.
She sat carefully on the edge of the desk chair rather than the bed, giving him space.
The gesture didn't go unnoticed.
Neither did the mug she set beside him.
Hot chocolate.
Extra marshmallows.
He stared at it.
"Thank you, Mrs Loes."
Something flickered across her face.
Not hurt.
Not disappointment.
Just thoughtfulness.
For a moment she looked down at her hands.
Then back at him.
"Remus?"
"Yes, Mrs Loes?"
The corners of her mouth twitched.
"There it is again."
His stomach immediately dropped.
Did he do something wrong?
"I'm sorry."
Her brows shot up.
"What on earth are you apologising for?"
"I-"
He wasn't sure.
Gently, she shook her head.
"You don't have anything to apologise for."
The room fell quiet.
Outside, he could hear birds singing somewhere in the trees.
Children laughing faintly downstairs.
Life continuing.
Fei's mother folded her hands in her lap.
"I know everything is still very fresh."
Remus looked down.
Immediately.
Because he knew exactly what she meant.
His mother.
His father.
The funeral.
The empty house.
The silence afterward.
Only a few months.
Some mornings it still felt impossible that they were gone.
"I know I'm not your mother."
The words were soft.
Careful.
As though she was afraid of stepping on broken glass.
Remus swallowed.
"I know."
"And I'm not trying to replace her."
That hurt in a different way.
Because she'd never once acted like she wanted to.
Never once asked him to forget.
Never once pretended his parents hadn't existed.
She reached over and gently adjusted the blanket where it had slipped from his shoulder.
"Your mum was your mum."
His throat tightened instantly.
"Nobody gets to replace that."
For a moment neither spoke.
Then she continued.
"But if you'd like..."
Her smile was small.
Tentative.
"You don't have to call me Mrs Loes."
Remus blinked.
"No?"
She shook her head.
"No."
The silence stretched.
Then she added:
"If, someday, you wanted to call me Mum..."
Her voice softened.
"That would be alright."
Remus froze.
The word hit him harder than expected.
Mum.
Not because he didn't want to.
Because part of him wanted to too much.
And that felt like betrayal.
As though loving someone new somehow meant loving his parents less.
Fei's mother seemed to read every thought on his face.
Because she immediately smiled and held up a hand.
"No pressure."
Remus released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"None at all."
She leaned back slightly.
"You can call me Jule if you prefer."
"Jule?"
"My first name."
The idea felt strange.
But not impossible.
Not painful.
Just unfamiliar.
Like trying on a new jumper.
Remus considered it.
Then looked down at the mug she'd brought him.
At the room she'd given him.
At the woman who'd sat awake all night worrying about a boy she'd only officially known for a few weeks.
His chest ached.
The good kind this time.
"Ms Jule?"
The words came out uncertain.
Testing.
Trying.
Her entire face lit up.
Not because it was perfect.
Because he'd tried.
"Ms Jule works just fine."
Relief washed through him.
"Okay."
She stood and squeezed his shoulder gently.
"Now."
Her smile returned.
"Are you hungry?"
His stomach answered before he could.
Ms Jule laughed.
A real laugh.
Warm and bright.
"Excellent."
For the first time since waking up, Remus laughed too.
"Come on then," she said, offering him a hand. "Let's get some breakfast into you."
Remus accepted her hand and carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed.
Every muscle protested.
His calves ached. His shoulders ached. Even his fingers felt tired. But there was no sharp pain. No fresh cuts. No bandages. No blood.
The realization hit him all over again.
Ms Jule seemed to notice. "You alright?"
Remus nodded. "Just thinking."
"Dangerous pastime."
A laugh escaped him.
"Apparently."
Together, they made their way downstairs. The scent of breakfast grew stronger with every step. Eggs, toast, bacon, cinnamon, and something sweet baking in the oven.
The kitchen was already bright with morning sunlight.
Large windows overlooked the backyard and the distant field beyond it. The same field where he spent the night beneath the moon.
The same field where he ran.
Not hunted.
Not suffered.
Ran.
Ms Jule guided him toward a chair.
"Sit."
Remus sat.
Immediately.
His legs were grateful for the suggestion.
A moment later, a plate appeared in front of him.
Eggs.
Toast slathered with butter.
Sausages.
Fresh fruit.
A cinnamon roll nearly the size of his hand.
Remus stared.
Then looked up.
Then looked back at the plate.
"All of this?"
Ms Jule blinked. "Remus, dear, you turned into a werewolf and ran around a field all night."
A beat.
"I was actually worried this wouldn't be enough."
Remus looked back down.
His stomach growled again.
Ms Jule pointed her spatula at him. "Eat."
He obeyed.
The first bite barely had time to reach his mouth before he was reaching for another.
And another.
And another.
Embarrassment began creeping in somewhere around the third piece of toast.
By the fifth, he stopped caring.
Ms Jule simply kept refilling things.
The eggs disappeared.
More appeared.
The toast disappeared.
More appeared.
The juice glass somehow never stayed empty. Not once did she comment on how much he was eating. Not once did she make him feel guilty for it.
She acted as though feeding a starving teenage werewolf was the most normal thing in the world.
The kitchen door opened. Cooper shuffled inside looking half-awake and entirely unprepared for the day. His hair pointed in six different directions. He dropped into the chair beside Remus and squinted at him.
"Huh."
Remus paused mid-bite. "Huh?"
"You look better than I expected."
"Thank you?"
"I mean that as a compliment."
Ms Jule snorted into her tea.
Cooper grabbed a piece of toast. "I thought you'd be unconscious."
"I considered it."
"Fair."
The back door slammed.
Then footsteps thundered through the house.
Jazzy.
Ms Jule closed her eyes. "Oh no."
Too late. Jazzy burst into the kitchen like a hurricane.
Behind him walked Fei, looking significantly more awake than any reasonable human being should at this hour. "Morning," she said.
Jazzy ignored everyone and immediately climbed into the chair opposite Remus. His eyes were huge. Excited. Curious. Dangerously curious.
He leaned forward across the table. "How was it?"
Ms Jule pointed a spoon at him. "Jazzy."
"What?"
"Let him eat."
"I'm asking nicely."
"You asked before he finished chewing."
Remus swallowed and set down his fork. The kitchen grew unexpectedly quiet. Even Fei stopped reaching for the toast basket. Everyone was looking at him. Waiting.
Remus stared down at his plate. At the eggs. At the crumbs. At his hands. Then he thought about the night before. The moon. The open field. The wind. The freedom. No chains. No locked rooms. No fear of what he'd wake up to. No Uncle Keir waiting outside the door. No blood. No shame.
His throat tightened. "It was..."
His voice caught.
He cleared it.
Tried again.
"It was the best one I've ever had."
Fei smiled like she'd been hoping for exactly that answer.
Jazzy practically vibrated. "I knew it."
"Jazzy." Ms Jule shook her head.
"I did!"
"You did."
"I absolutely did."
Cooper stole another sausage.
Life resumed.
Breakfast continued.
But something felt different now.
Fei began eating again, though Remus noticed the way she kept glancing toward him every few moments, as though checking he was still there.
As though she still couldn't quite believe it had worked.
Ms Jule settled into the chair across from him, wrapping both hands around her tea. She watched the chaos unfolding around the table. Cooper and Jazzy arguing about whether dragons could play football. Fei trying and failing to mediate. The dog barking somewhere in the house.
Then she looked at Remus. "Well." Her smile was gentle. "It seems like you're settling into your new home nicely."
The words hit harder than he expected.
Your new home.
Not temporary.
Not for now.
Not until someone else wanted him.
Home.
His fork stopped halfway to his mouth. His hand trembled just slightly. He set it down before anyone could notice.
Unfortunately, Ms Jule noticed everything. "Remus?"
He looked up. The concern in her eyes almost undid him. Because it wasn't pity. Never pity.
"Thank you," he managed. The words came out small.
Ms Jule's expression softened immediately. "Oh, sweetheart. You don't have to thank us for being wanted."
That did it. His vision blurred instantly. He blinked hard.
Ms Jule reached across the table and squeezed his hand reminding him she was there. "You don't have to earn your place here."
The words settled somewhere deep inside him. Somewhere he'd spent years believing the opposite.
His throat hurt. "I know," he whispered.
The truth was he was starting to. For the first time in a very long time.
Ms Jule smiled. "Good." Then, because she was apparently determined not to let him drown in feelings before breakfast was finished, she pointed at his plate. "Now eat your cinnamon roll before Jazzy steals it."
Jazzy gasped. "I would never."
"You absolutely would."
"I would ask first."
The entire table burst into laughter.
Even Remus.
And this time, the sound didn't feel strange at all.
20 07 1973
The days seemed to stretch differently at the Isle.
Maybe it was the ocean air.
Maybe it was the endless summer sunlight.
Or maybe it was because, for the first time in years, Remus wasn't counting down the days until his next full moon.
Still, even in a house as lively as this one, some things were impossible to ignore.
Like the way Cooper kept looking toward the windows.
July 9 had come and gone.
Then July 10.
Then July 15.
Now it was July 20.
And still no owl.
No letter.
No school.
Nothing.
He never brought it up directly.
Not at first.
But Remus noticed.
The way Cooper paused whenever wings fluttered overhead.
The way his eyes drifted toward the mailbox whenever they drove into town.
The way his smile seemed a little forced whenever anyone mentioned school.
That Friday afternoon, the heat hung heavy over the yard.
Jazzy was sprinting through the grass attempting to conduct what he called an "outdoor orchestra," which mostly consisted of chasing dragonflies while singing loudly.
Nearby, Fei sat beneath the shade of an old oak tree with several crumpled letters scattered around her.
Remus already knew who they were from.
"You know," Fei announced to nobody in particular, "James Potter is the most exhausting person I've ever met."
Remus looked up from his book.
"What did he do now?"
She held up a letter.
"He wrote six pages."
"That's not that bad."
"Six pages about Quidditch."
Remus laughed.
Fei looked personally offended.
"No, you don't understand."
She unfolded the parchment dramatically.
"'Dear Loes, today I successfully executed a reverse barrel roll while imagining how impressed everyone at Hogwarts will be when I return.'"
Remus snorted.
Fei continued.
"'Unfortunately, Mum claims I nearly crashed into a tree. This is slander.'"
A laugh escaped Remus before he could stop it.
Fei pointed accusingly.
"You're encouraging him."
"He's not here."
"He can probably sense it."
From somewhere across the yard, Jazzy yelled, "WHO'S JAMES?"
"Nobody!" Fei yelled back immediately.
Jazzy accepted this answer and resumed conducting invisible musicians.
Cooper, meanwhile, sat beside Remus on the porch steps. Far quieter than usual.
Eventually he kicked at the dirt with his shoe.
"How does it work in Britain?"
Remus glanced over.
"What?"
"Magic school."
Remus leaned back against the porch railing.
"Oh."
He thought for a moment.
"Hogwarts letters usually arrive before term starts. First years go at eleven. Everyone gets their letter by owl."
Cooper nodded slowly.
"Pretty much the same age here."
"How does it work?"
"It depends." Cooper picked at a loose thread on his sleeve. "Some schools are regional. Some are private. Some families homeschool magical basics before sending kids anywhere."
"And you?"
Cooper shrugged. "I've never gotten a letter."
Something in Remus's chest tightened. "Oh."
Another silence settled.
Across the lawn, Fei had apparently reached the end of James's latest letter because she threw her hands into the air dramatically. "WHO WRITES THREE PARAGRAPHS ABOUT A BROOMSTICK?"
Remus smiled despite himself.
Cooper didn't. His eyes remained fixed somewhere beyond the yard. Beyond the trees. Beyond the horizon. "Might be a Squib."
The words landed heavily.
Remus looked over.
Cooper was staring at the ground like he'd spent years preparing himself for disappointment.
"You don't know that."
Cooper laughed once. "Wouldn't exactly surprise anyone."
Remus was quiet for a moment then he looked down at his own scarred hands. At the faded marks crossing his knuckles. At the things people saw when they looked at him. The things they assumed.
"People think blood explains everything."
Cooper glanced over.
Remus met his eyes. "It doesn't."
For a moment neither spoke then a shadow swept across the yard.
Jazzy stopped running. Fei looked up from her letters. Remus squinted toward the sky.
A large tawny owl descended from above and landed on the porch railing with all the dignity of a Ministry official arriving for an important meeting. The bird stared at them. A thick envelope was tied to its leg.
Cooper froze. The world seemed to stop with him.
The owl stuck out its leg impatiently. As if to say, Well? I'm busy.
Cooper stood. His hands trembled as he untied the envelope.
The owl clicked its beak. Impatient.
Cooper turned the letter over. His name was written across the front.
Then Cooper laughed the kind of laugh that had been trapped inside someone for years.
Jazzy immediately launched himself at him. The impact nearly sent both boys tumbling off the porch.
Fei whooped so loudly several birds took flight from nearby trees. "I KNEW IT!"
"You absolutely did not!" Cooper shouted back, laughing harder than Remus had ever seen.
"I absolutely did!"
"You said I might be cursed!"
"That was encouragement!"
Ms Jule appeared in the doorway. "What on earth-" Then she saw the envelope. Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, sweetheart."
Cooper clutched the letter against his chest so tightly the parchment crinkled.
Remus felt something warm settle inside his chest. Something protective. He smiled. "No. You’re not."
Cooper laughed again.
And for the rest of the afternoon, nobody got a word out of Cooper because he spent the next three hours reading the same letter over and over again.
20 08 1973
FEILONG
By the time Remus's next transformation approached, the house had learned him.
It had learned that he liked tea with entirely too much honey.
That he folded blankets when he was nervous.
That he apologised when someone else bumped into him.
That he preferred reading near windows.
That he always left half a piece of toast on his plate for the dog.
It had learned that Jazzy could make him laugh simply by singing complete nonsense into a wooden spoon.
That Cooper could get him talking for hours if the subject was books, magical creatures, or school.
That Mum never had to ask twice if he wanted seconds.
The house had learned him.
The only person who had not learned him was Russell Campbell.
Cooper's father watched Remus the way someone watched a crack spreading across a wall.
Waiting for it to become a problem.
Fei heard the arguments sometimes.
Not all of them.
Just enough.
Enough to hear raised voices through closed doors.
"He's dangerous."
"He's a child."
"He's not your child."
"He is under my roof."
"You don't know what he could do."
And then, every time:
"I know exactly what frightened children do when adults fail them."
After that Russell usually went quiet.
But quiet wasn't kindness.
Quiet was just quieter suspicion.
That afternoon, however, nobody was arguing.
The sun hung warm and golden above the yard.
Jazzy declared himself the greatest musician in magical history and assembled an unwilling backup troupe to support his artistic vision.
Which was how Fei found herself standing in the middle of the lawn while Jazzy sang dramatically from atop an overturned crate.
Cooper clapped a rhythm.
Remus looked deeply regretful about every decision that had led him here.
And Fei was laughing so hard her stomach hurt.
"I don't dance," Remus informed them for perhaps the fifth time.
"You do now," Jazzy replied.
"I really don't."
"You are literally in the band."
"There is a band?"
"There is now."
Remus looked toward Fei. "Help."
"Absolutely not."
"Traitor."
Fei grinned. "You survived a werewolf transformation. You can survive choreography."
Remus looked unconvinced.
Jazzy pointed dramatically. "Dance!"
Remus sighed. Then performed the stiffest side-step Fei had ever witnessed. Both arms remained awkwardly at his sides. His expression suggested he was attending a funeral.
Fei doubled over laughing. "That is not dancing."
"It is dignified movement."
"It is a cry for help."
Cooper snorted.
Jazzy continued singing at full volume. "My backup dancers are terrible but I forgive them-"
Remus finally laughed. Not the careful, quiet ones he sometimes gave when he wasn't sure he was allowed. This one escaped unexpectedly.
The sound made something soften in Fei's chest because there it was. The boy she'd spent two years worrying about standing in the middle of the lawn. Laughing. For a moment he looked like any other thirteen-year-old.
Then Jazzy launched into another verse and Fei groaned dramatically. "This is still better than James's letters."
Remus immediately laughed again.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
She pointed accusingly. "Do you know he wrote me six pages yesterday?"
"About Quidditch?"
"How did you know?"
"Educated guess."
"It was six pages about a Quidditch drill."
Cooper shook his head. "That's absurd."
"THANK YOU."
"And honestly impressive."
Fei threw a handful of grass at him. "Nobody appreciates my suffering."
Remus smirked. "You've answered every letter."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Someone has to explain why he's wrong."
"About Quidditch?"
"About everything."
Remus looked entirely unconvinced. "Right."
Before Fei could defend herself, movement on the porch caught her eye.
The laughter faded immediately.
Russell Campbell stood in the doorway. Watching.
The atmosphere shifted like a cloud moving across the sun.
Cooper stopped clapping. Jazzy's singing faltered. Even Remus straightened slightly.
"Cooper." His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
Cooper's shoulders tensed immediately. "We're just playing."
"I can see that." Russell descended the steps, crossed the lawn, and stopped beside them.
Fei hated the way Cooper looked smaller when his father was around.
"We're in the middle of rehearsal," Jazzy announced.
Russell ignored him. Ignored everyone except Cooper. "Inside."
Cooper glanced toward the house then toward the ground. "We're almost done."
"Now." His hand closed around Cooper's arm and guided him toward the house. The front door shut behind them.
Silence settled over the yard. Jazzy lowered his spoon. The crate stage suddenly looked ridiculous.
Fei stared at the closed door. Her face burned. She wasn't even sure why. Finally she looked at Remus. "Sorry."
The word came out small.
Remus blinked. "For what?"
“Him."
His expression softened immediately. "It's fine."
"It's not."
"No," he agreed quietly. Then he offered her a small smile. "But it's not your fault."
Fei looked away first, because somehow that made her feel even worse.
Beside them, Jazzy sniffled. "Do we have to stop the concert?"
Everyone looked down. Jazzy's lower lip trembled. The world's smallest tragedy.
Remus crouched, then reached down and picked up the abandoned wooden spoon. He held it out like a microphone. "No."
Jazzy blinked.
Remus smiled. "The show must go on."
Jazzy lit up instantly.
Fei laughed despite herself.
A moment later the concert resumed.
Jazzy sang louder than before. Fei danced worse than before. And this time, Remus danced badly on purpose. Just to make Jazzy laugh.
24 08 1973
REMUS
Diagon Alley was exactly as Remus remembered it and somehow entirely different.
The cobblestones were crowded with witches carrying parcels, children pressing their faces against shop windows, owls hooting from cages, and shopkeepers calling out summer sales. The air smelled of parchment, potion smoke, sugar, and rain.
This time, Remus was not alone.
Fei walked beside him, occasionally pointing out shops to Cooper while Jazzy attempted to drag their mother toward every display that moved.
"Jazzy," Ms Jule called for what was probably the tenth time, "you cannot adopt a pygmy puff."
"Why not?"
"Because we already have a dog."
"Maybe the dog wants a pygmy puff."
Remus laughed.
Ahead of them, Cooper had stopped dead in front of Flourish and Blotts, staring through the window as though he'd discovered heaven.
Fei smiled. "That's exactly how I looked my first time."
"You still look like that."
"Books deserve enthusiasm."
"That's what you call it?"
Before Fei could respond, Ms Jule called out far behind them. "Meet us at the Leaky Cauldron at two. Have fun."
“Will do!” Fei called back before groaning. Remus followed Fei's line of sight. James Potter was standing outside Quality Quidditch Supplies waving both arms above his head like a man attempting to direct air traffic.
Peter stood beside him looking significantly more normal.
"LOES!"
Half of Diagon Alley turned.
Fei groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake."
James waved harder. "LOES!"
"He's impossible."
"Yet you're smiling."
"I am not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"You absolutely are."
Fei ignored him and immediately started walking faster.
Remus noticed.
So did James because James immediately abandoned Peter and sprinted toward them. "Remus!" James collided with him first.
Remus stumbled backward. "James-"
"You're alive!"
"Barely now."
James laughed. Then he turned toward Fei. For a split second, his grin changed. "There you are."
Fei folded her arms. "Where else would I be?"
"I don't know. America."
"I was in America."
James nodded thoughtfully. "Good point."
Then, before either of them seemed aware of what they were doing, they started walking side-by-side. Like they always did. Like there wasn't even a question.
Peter stepped forward and hugged Remus. "Good to see you."
"You too."
Fei smiled warmly at Peter. "You survived."
"Barely."
"You wrote me twice."
Peter pointed toward James. "He wrote everyone twice."
"I wrote because I care."
"You wrote because you're incapable of silence."
"Also true." James looked between them. Then stopped suddenly. "You cut your hair."
Fei blinked. "What?"
"It's shorter."
Remus watched realization cross her face. Because it was. Only by an inch or two. Barely noticeable. The sort of thing most people wouldn't catch.
Fei looked strangely caught off guard. "You noticed?"
James immediately looked confused. "Of course I noticed." As though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Remus nearly laughed.
Peter was trying not to.
Before either of them could say anything, a warm voice interrupted. "So these are the famous friends."
James's parents approached from behind. Remus turned.
Mr Potter had kind eyes behind round spectacles and the easy posture of someone who had never needed to make himself smaller to fit into a room. Mrs Potter smiled like sunshine. The sort of smile that made people feel welcome without trying.
James puffed up immediately. "Mum. Dad. Remus Lupin and Feilong Loes."
Mrs Potter took Fei's hand first. "It's lovely to finally meet you."
Fei smiled politely. "It's nice to meet you too."
Then Mrs Potter turned toward Remus. Her expression softened immediately. "And you as well, dear."
Remus nodded. "Nice to meet you."
Mr Potter studied them both with amusement. "We've heard quite a bit about you."
"Oh no," Fei said immediately.
James gasped. "Betrayal."
Peter laughed.
Mrs. Potter looked delighted. "I've heard you're clever."
"That's James's polite way of saying I correct him constantly."
"You do."
"Because you're wrong constantly."
"Not constantly."
"Daily."
"Weekly."
"Hourly."
Mr Potter barked out a laugh.
James looked wounded. "You know, Loes, some people would be grateful to spend time with me."
Fei rolled her eyes. "Those people have never met you."
James grinned. "You missed me."
"I absolutely did not."
"You wrote back to every letter."
"Because someone needed to explain why your Quidditch theories were ridiculous."
"That's not a denial."
Fei opened her mouth. Closed it.
James looked unbearably pleased with himself.
Mrs Potter exchanged a look with her husband.
For a while, everything felt easy. They wandered through Diagon Alley together. Past Flourish and Blotts. Past Eeylops Owl Emporium. Past Quality Quidditch Supplies, where James spent fifteen minutes pressed against the window discussing broom design while Fei loudly insisted she wasn't listening despite correctly identifying every model he pointed at.
Remus noticed that whenever the group split naturally around crowds, James somehow ended up beside Fei again. And again. And again.
Neither seemed aware of it.
Eventually, Peter fell into step beside Remus. "How've you been?"
Remus glanced over. "All right."
Peter lowered his voice. "I mean... with everything happening near Hogwarts."
Ahead of them, Fei groaned. "The acromantula attacks? I thought they stopped."
James's expression shifted immediately. "No. Not stopped."
Remus felt his stomach tighten.
James glanced around before continuing. "They changed."
The summer sunlight suddenly felt colder.
"What do you mean?" Fei asked.
James looked at her then at Remus. Then lowered his voice. "They're mostly in the lower hamlets now. Smaller villages."
Peter nodded. "Dad says the Ministry's keeping some of it quiet."
James hesitated. "It's not just acromantulas anymore."
Fei slowed. "So what is it?"
James swallowed. "Vampires."
The street noise seemed to dim.
"Hags."
Remus went still.
"And-"
James shook his head. "You're not going to believe this."
Peter already looked uncomfortable.
"Werewolves."
Everything stopped.
The laughter.
The sunlight.
The warmth.
Beside him, Fei stiffened. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But Remus felt it.
"What?" James asked immediately.
Fei recovered first. "Werewolves?"
James nodded. "That's what Dad heard."
Remus couldn't breathe."Werewolves are attacking people?"
"That's what they're saying."
The word echoed inside his skull.
Werewolf.
Monster.
Danger.
Threat.
Beside him, Fei's hand brushed his sleeve.
You're here.
You're safe.
You're not alone.
Remus forced himself to inhale. Summer had given him a family.
A home.
A future.
But as Diagon Alley bustled around them and James continued explaining Ministry rumors, one terrible truth settled heavily in his chest.
The world beyond that home had not become any kinder.
And somehow, he suspected it was about to get much worse.