Remus Lupin (
thattimeofthemonth) wrote2016-12-08 06:48 pm
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Broken on the Dawn
Sometimes, one just gave up on life. When there was nothing left to fight for, nothing left to live for, nothing left to even hope for. In one terribly short amount of time, he had lost... everything. The people he had come to love like family - James, Peter, Lily. Their beautiful child he had been so excited to meet, murmuring to the little one in the womb in a way that always made Lily laugh. Even his brother, his best friend, his... maybe one day they might have been something more, but then to find out in one blow that it had been Sirius who had become a traitor, whisked away to Azkaban before he could even find out why. Why he had murdered Peter, why he had told...?!
Why Sirius had said he was the traitor. But... he was all too easy to blame, wasn't he? Who else could Sirius have gotten away with blaming the leak to that everyone would immediately believe? Some people knew who shouldn't ever have, but equally, some of them were dead. He had no idea who knew anymore. What he was, what Sirius said he was... some probably believed Sirius had lied about anything, everything-- hell, he didn't even know.
So he sat waiting, staring up at the horizon as the sun fell. It was a beautiful sunset, streaking bloody red and purple across the sky, more beautiful than he felt. No one was out here nor would they be, on this desolate moor where Dumbledore, bless him, had set him up a place to be able to hide now that he was long out of school. Enough for him to recover and go back to home... but now there wasn't even that. No home, no one to go back to.
His head hung. The tears came. They hung, then fell. Every time he thought there couldn't possibly be more within him, more to wring out of his soul, they came. It hurt more than waking up tomorrow morning would, far more. The nightmares were even worse because they were glorious. James and Lily laughed in his memories, Peter squeaked and shared food, and Sirius gave him that grin and told him to come sneak out to the village with him. Then he woke to nothing.
When the moon started to crest the far hills, Remus reached down and tugged off his shoes, tossing them to the side, then did the same with his pants. It was hard not being a little used to being nude given the amount of times the boys had found him as such, but even more so when no one was around. This time, he met the moon straight on, eyes watching it as it came up. It would take away his humanity and with it, the pain that came with knowing.
What he never would have expected was that long after it happened that night - the change, the creak and crash of bone, the moments between knowing and not until Remus faded away completely and Moony cried to his namesake, the running through the heather, even a hunt that started to bring him towards morning - that something would go horribly wrong. What it was, he had no idea, couldn't know. All the wolf saw was light, smelled the reek of burnt fur, then darkness.
Why Sirius had said he was the traitor. But... he was all too easy to blame, wasn't he? Who else could Sirius have gotten away with blaming the leak to that everyone would immediately believe? Some people knew who shouldn't ever have, but equally, some of them were dead. He had no idea who knew anymore. What he was, what Sirius said he was... some probably believed Sirius had lied about anything, everything-- hell, he didn't even know.
So he sat waiting, staring up at the horizon as the sun fell. It was a beautiful sunset, streaking bloody red and purple across the sky, more beautiful than he felt. No one was out here nor would they be, on this desolate moor where Dumbledore, bless him, had set him up a place to be able to hide now that he was long out of school. Enough for him to recover and go back to home... but now there wasn't even that. No home, no one to go back to.
His head hung. The tears came. They hung, then fell. Every time he thought there couldn't possibly be more within him, more to wring out of his soul, they came. It hurt more than waking up tomorrow morning would, far more. The nightmares were even worse because they were glorious. James and Lily laughed in his memories, Peter squeaked and shared food, and Sirius gave him that grin and told him to come sneak out to the village with him. Then he woke to nothing.
When the moon started to crest the far hills, Remus reached down and tugged off his shoes, tossing them to the side, then did the same with his pants. It was hard not being a little used to being nude given the amount of times the boys had found him as such, but even more so when no one was around. This time, he met the moon straight on, eyes watching it as it came up. It would take away his humanity and with it, the pain that came with knowing.
What he never would have expected was that long after it happened that night - the change, the creak and crash of bone, the moments between knowing and not until Remus faded away completely and Moony cried to his namesake, the running through the heather, even a hunt that started to bring him towards morning - that something would go horribly wrong. What it was, he had no idea, couldn't know. All the wolf saw was light, smelled the reek of burnt fur, then darkness.
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Was this some sort of Muggle thing? That would make sense; he definitely wasn't completely connected to what was going on there, after all.
"...north of England?" He cautiously suggested.
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Not that the White Mantle question was such a tell. The group had been operating in the shadows for centuries after supposedly being wiped out in the Krytan civil war. Most people who knew the name now knew it from a chapter out of a Tyrian history book. Nonetheless, it was still time for some damage control, starting with the topic of his geographic knowledge. Evidently 'Scotland' was a place he was expected to know.
"Right, north of England. Of course. Six, how'd I get there?" He shook his head as though he was just remarking on the distance, nothing more.
"Look, all can say for sure is that we were flying towards this maelstrom and it looked real dicey, even from a ways away. The rest--I mean, it wasn't my airship, wasn't my mission. I was just there as a messenger. I don't have details. But yeah, sure, there was magical energy crackling through the air like lightning, and you could just feel it, you know the feeling that something's not right. Maybe the whole place was a powder keg.
"That explosion I mentioned? The blast came from inside the maelstrom, and it reached right up into the clouds, took over the whole damn storm. I thought we were done for. And then the blast kind of reversed itself and sucked everything in, and that's when I fell. Everyone else on that ship could be dead for all I know. Or maybe they're all scattered and lost the way I am.
"I don't know what you're thinking that made you wanna--" a nod towards the lowered wand, "but I'm not out to hurt you. And I don't want to fight you now any more than I wanted to when you were all...toothy. I've had a long day; I think you've had a long night. So if it's all the same to you, can we maybe agree that we won't try to kill each other?"
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"...a man has to defend himself," he said as if that explained everything and in a way, it did. This was Remus though and he gave a proper smile, albeit still an awkward one, and offered his hand. "Sorry about the rude.. well, everything so far. Bit of a strange scenario for both of us I think. I'm Remus." In future years, he would lie as easily as he breathed about his name, but for now that wasn't so ingrained. "I've got a tiny place back that-a-way, where I can be less in the buff and we can figure out on how to get you back home."
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Remus wasn't the only one with a sense that a man needed to protect himself; Vrenille approached that need in a very a different way, but its spirit was still the same. The truth was that going home with any guy was always a bit of a risk, however nice he seemed. He had to be aware of that, every time, no matter what he was going for. And he'd already established that he'd need to be circumspect with Remus--maybe outright deceptive if it came to it--at least until he could figure out where he was and understand his situation here a little bit better.
All that meant, of course, that he was going to be very easy going about accepting the proffered apology and taking any and all rudeness in stride. "And it's okay. I'm glad to meet you, circumstances notwithstanding. I really don't know what I'd do if I hadn't run into you--I'd be lost out here." A pause and a concerned look, "Are you sure you're ok though? No offense but you kind of look like you've been through hell."
He'd be happy with walking back in the that-a-way direction that Remus had indicated (he didn't really think they had many other options) but that didn't make him any less concerned that a barefoot trek across the moors might be more than this young man had left in him.
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So first things first. He offered his arm like he might have to a lady, a wry smile on his face. "I've had to Apparate in far worse conditions." And the sad part was how true it was. As soon as he had gotten his license to do so, he had practiced until he was able to do it almost without thinking when he was fine and conscious then when he could manage it without splichering himself when he was exhausted or injured. Useful during the war, sadly.
He... assumed it was calling Apparation across the world, at least in proper English, but Remus still had quite a bit to learn about going out to other countries and assuming certain things.
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That meant he needed to reserve his queries for situations of absolute necessity, not just mild confusion or curiosity. In this case, he didn't need to know what Apparation was to understand that he was meant to take Remus's arm. The body language translated perfectly well, and anyway it was the sort of gesture that he was perfectly comfortable with. He even returned that wry smile.
Given that Remus had told him they were pretty much miles from everywhere, when he slid his hand through the crook of the young man's elbow and let his admittedly chilled fingers come to rest on Remus's forearm, he expected some method of magical travel. He just didn't have any clear idea of just what it would be. He simply had to trust and hope.
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Remus glanced to Vrenille, checking him over. "I haven't done a Side Along in a little while - all together?" Seemed like all of the limbs were in the proper place. Good to know he was still fully capable.
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When they stopped moving, which felt every bit as abrupt as when they started, he was immensely glad that he had such a strong constitution. Nevertheless, he still very much needed a moment because he certainly couldn't answer Remus's question--it was a few seconds before he felt he could speak at all, staggering to get his legs under him against the swirl of vertigo. It was a bit like having the wind knocked out of him except without the blow to the chest.
He coughed and gasped a few times, one hand extended like he hoped to find some sort of support under it. Presently though, he did manage to regain himself.
"Dwayna," he swore, "I sure hope that's not what you do for fun around these parts."
But hey, shack. Shack was good. Better than wind-blasted heather and rocks at least. "You live here?" He didn't mean for it to sound judgemental--he'd lived in worse places than this in his life--but out of context it might have sounded that way.
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"Not so much," Remus said dryly to the comment about 'for fun', running a hand back through his shaggy hair and taking a step towards the shack.
Then he stopped, slowly looking back towards Vrenille and frowning at that. It did sound like it was being judgmental, but unlike some others he knew, he could push it off. He always looked and lived scruffy, torn a bit and dirty, so he decided to give a small chuckle. It wasn't particularly mirthful but it was there. "No, but honestly, home isn't much better."
With that he gathered up his fallen clothing in the thin light of the dawn, then walked inside to get the rest.
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"Sorry," he said as he followed Remus into the shack. "I grew up on the streets. I am not one to judge. It's just that this place is remote. I'd get lonely as hell." That was just him, of course. He knew some people thrived on solitude. Urban spaces were very much his natural environment. He knew how to make do in them, and even when he didn't, he knew how to adapt.
Granted, at this point in his life he'd been flung into his fair share of wilderness too, but that didn't mean he liked it, even with his companions near by. This shack--the way it stood out here all alone--seemed to underscore the isolation of the moors even further. To be out here completely solo? He respected Remus for being able to do it; it would have unnerved him thoroughly.
"Where is home?" he asked, wanting to keep the conversation up (and maybe also cover the way he was watching the younger man, keenly aware that he still didn't look at all well). "I mean, keeping in mind that I might need more than the name of a town since my local geography's obviously a little lacking."
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He tugged on the last of his clothing, working on buttoning his shirt up. "Sometimes, loneliness happens, by choice or circumstance." A shrug completed the statement, as sad as it sounded to hear, which showed the kind of person who was used to it but that was one giant lie. A lie which showed in his eyes if someone caught it. Something terrible had happened to bring the haunted look that showed in Remus' face before it pushed it away.
"I can get you to the Ministry, though. They're going to want to know what happened and they can get you back home, too."
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It was already wildly apparent that Remus lived a life shaped in some way by that wolf Vrenille had seen him as last night. What he didn't quite understand yet were all the particulars. But the fear and the defensiveness earlier, the secrecy implicit in not wanting to say too much now, the expression that showed in the younger man's eyes before he composed himself enough to cover it--all of those were pieces of the puzzle, enough that a picture might be starting to take shape.
"Yeah, sometimes loneliness happens, but it's better when you can find someone who can help you chase it away for a while," the smile he gave dropped a hint of an offer here, but just a hint--subtle, maybe not there at all.
"So the 'toothy' thing's on a schedule, I guess. And you can never remember what happened during it, which probably means you can't control what happens during it. So that's why you come out here. And I'm guessing it's all got to stay a secret from everyone, so that's why you aren't too keen to trust me. How am I doing so far?"
Hopefully winning some points, since he wasn't sure how the next thing he was going to say would go. "I'm not too keen on Ministers--all the politics and their factions and stuff." He turned to look out a window as he spoke, trying to make himself seem casual. "Do you think we could maybe skip the Ministry bit and...you just help me?"
In point of fact, Vrenille had some pretty specific reasons for saying this. Completely moot reasons, granted, since he was no longer in his world, but he wasn't to know that. The truth of the matter was that the airship he'd been on had been carrying a passenger with a very important and delicate mission: to "retrieve" a rogue member of the Krytan Ministry who was plotting against the throne and believed to be in league with the White Mantle cult. Vrenille did not know nearly enough about political maneuverings to know just how far this Minister's network of contacts reached, but at this moment in time, Ministry and White Mantle were two factions far too close for comfort in his book. He didn't want to risk becoming a pawn in some kind of game he knew he didn't know enough to play.
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But he pushed it away, though the first word or so of his next question were a little off before it settled. "Are werewolves not common in your part of the world?" Remus asked, looking confused towards Vrenille. He'd never met another wizard who didn't know of them, but then again some home-schooled wizards got very different education than those who went to the big schools. "You're right so far, though. I... don't usually discuss it with people, though." Not something he was precisely keen on the idea of with a virtual stranger, either.
But how Vrenille responded to his suggestion of the Ministry made Remus look to him questioningly, now even more uncertain. On the tail end of a war, there were reasons to be more cautious than ever, but something just wasn't quite adding up. He knew that every major country had some form of the Ministry, even the Yanks managed it in their massive country, but 'Ministers'? Was it a joke?
"...I don't know what you'd expect me to do to help," he said slowly and everything in that tone suggested he was not completely sure of what was going on between them.
Bless this tag for giving me an excuse to avoid work for a few minutes.
"But I'm guessing what happens with you is kind of different anyway since they do it at will and usually just for a few minutes. I've never asked whether they're in control the whole time, just sort of assumed." He could ask Bertolt about that next time he saw him he guessed...whenever that turned out to be.
He turned to look at Remus again, "For what it's worth, I don't mind. I'm not scared of you and I'm not judging you for it or anything. I'd just appreciate if you could give me a heads up next time it's gonna happen."
As for what he expected Remus to do, actually, Vrenille had an answer to that. Before he could decide how to proceed with anything, he needed to get a gauge on where he really was. He made his proposal with a nonchalant sort of shrug to try and cover how much he'd been thinking about it, and of course never imagining that his desire to avoid the Ministry could potentially raise suspicions of nefarious association: "Well, you got a map?"
<3 Also, hey look that info about the African magic school came in handy!
"...Not... on me," Remus said slowly, as that question had been unexpected. "If you tell me where you need to go, I can find a way there. I still think the Ministry would be the simple solution, but there are other methods depending on how criminal it would be to get you back there." Given the restrictions on travel from some locations, in particular he thought of Japan and China though Vrenille seemed neither of these things, it very well could be criminal to get him back there.
Dumbledore would certainly know a way they could get around, if it had to come to that. It wasn't as if he had many places to turn that weren't through the Ministry. Some of the other aurors, perhaps?
Gosh I'd pretty much forgotten about all that!
"No, not criminal," he assured as best he could. "At least I shouldn't think so." What if he had somehow gotten to somewhere in Cantha...or even Elona? Granted, this placed didn't feel at all like he'd expect for either of those, but what the hell did he know? There'd been no contact with Cantha for centuries and Elona was closed off, or at least the routes that could eventually lead there were. It wouldn't be criminal to get back where he'd been from anywhere in central Tyria, but he was increasingly sure that he wasn't in central Tyria at all.
And now he had Remus asking for specifics, and he could already tell that trying to hedge here would not be a great move on the trust-building front. He had to make a decision...
Really it was no surprise that Vrenille opted to try and work the human connection angle. That was just sort of what he did. He was good with people, current weird miscommunications notwithstanding. He knew all of one person here (wherever here really was) and he was damn well not going to alienate him by seeming all shady and secretive. Not if he could possibly help it at least.
"Well, I was in the northern part of the Maguuma Jungle when all this happened." He already pretty much guessed that Remus wouldn't recognize the name, so he quickly added, "If maybe we could get a map, then I could show you." And show myself, he added silently.
Rowling didn't think too hard on the other schools when she was coming up with them, sadly.
"The nearest jungle isn't for... thousands of miles," Remus said with that surprise on his face clear in his voice. "If you had some sort of magical backlash or a natural phenomenon that took you that far, it must have been massive. I imagine we could find out some sort of information about it as I'm sure news of it will spread like wildfire."
He scratched at his jaw, but realized all at once that choosing to Apparate, with someone else, immediately after the change, and the fact he wasn't laying down or buried in a meal to get his energy back... meant his last legs were wearing out. Vrenille would see Remus stand very still, then all at once collapse downward, not quite in a dead faint but hitting his knees in a way that did not sound at all pleasant, his head hanging and wand falling from his hand to roll away.
Alas, Rowling's attention has always been a bit...uneven.
He wasn't all that shocked by the suggestion that he might be thousands of miles from where he'd started, to be honest, since he'd already started thinking he was far outside central Tyria which effectively meant somewhere other than his own continent. In a way, hearing Remus say it aloud was almost comforting. "I think it must've been some kind of displacement. Like with the Thaumanova Reactor disaster? I mean, not that I'm any kind of expert or--"
And then Remus swayed on his legs and fell, and that pretty much cut the whole train of thought short.
"Damn," Vrenille rushed towards the younger man, dropping down to one knee and reaching out to support him before he fell the rest of the way, arms sliding around his waist to take his weight as he looked for somewhere he could reasonably get him to lay him down--bed, couch, whatever would be better than the floor.
"Ok, hey, Remus--you still with me buddy?" He wasn't actually expecting an answer, but saying it aloud made him feel a little better, a way of trying to reassure himself that the situation wasn't that bad.
That's putting it lightly, sadly.
All of that had been forgotten proper by Vrenille's existence in it, leaving him to not even realize how badly off he was until his body noped out of the equation.
Remus tried to murmur something, not to worry he would be okay. It mostly came out, but it was clear he was dizzy and unfocused. Holding him, Vrenille would feel that while there was muscle there, this had to be a relatively strong young man, he was thinner than he looked.
Opens the door for fanwork creativity at least? /momentary optimist
Laying the younger man's body down as carefully as he could and pulling the covers up over him to keep him warm, he briefly cupped Remus's cheek in his hand, looking over him with a worried furrow to his brow. Remus might have the strength of will to keep himself going right to the limits of exhaustion, but that didn't mean that Vrenille wasn't worried by the state he was in now.
Having grown up on the streets, Vrenille knew a thing or two about being cold and hungry, never managing to have quite enough. Because he'd grown up having to be pretty self-sufficient, he'd learned some coping strategies. Since then, granted, his fortunes had changed a fair bit. So while a younger him might have had a good search around the shack for something he could make to feed Remus, the older him had better options.
Reaching into his little pack, he rummaged around until he found what he was looking for--a wax-paper wrapped packet of food, which he unfolded to reveal something that looked like a protein bar but would taste much nicer--sweet and tart and fruity, with oatmeal.
Sliding an arm under Remus's shoulders to help him sit up for a moment, Vrenille held a piece of the bar for him. "Here. Eat a bit of this. It'll make you feel better."
I suppose so?? XD
A low groan of half-consciousness left Remus when Vrenille lifted him, and despite the obvious logic being spoken to him, he didn't seem particularly interested in the food. Really, physically, he was starving for it after how many calories the change consumed, but his mind wasn't matching his body. Still, after a moment or two, he started to realize what was being said to him and he half-heartedly opened his lips, teeth grabbing for it if it was put in his general direction.
This, he decided, was far more miserable than being out with the pack and waking up beside them in the morning. Even the mere thought, though, made him wince ever so slightly. It would never happen again. Death, imprisonment... and here he was, living. Trying to live a life that felt like it was gone forever, slipped through his hands. What was he doing? What was the point of staying here, anywhere, when it was all gone!?
Suddenly, despite his exhaustion, Remus started to pull away from Vrenille, that warm, friendly touch. It was too much, too close to what he had lost! Stop it, damn it, hadn't he suffered enough!? Why was this stranger here, being this kind...!?
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"Hey, ok, easy," setting the half-eaten omnomberry bar down on a little table by the bed, Vrenille eased Remus down again. "You just wanna sleep for a while? That's probably a good idea anyway." It was a rhetorical question, so he didn't expect an answer. He did, however, place a hand on Remus's head for a moment. "Just take your time, okay? I'm not going anywhere; I can wait. I'll even make sure nothing happens, so you rest easy."
It was all meant to be comforting. There was no way for him to know that any of this might be anything but. Encouraging Remus to settle just seemed to be the right idea, make him feel as safe and secure as he could. Sure, they were still veritably strangers to each other, but to Vrenille, intimacy with strangers had always been pretty much life-sustaining. Why would he conduct himself any differently now?
omnomberry is just such a fun word
"Don't go too far," came the murmur from Remus. "Just.. give me a little while. Figure out... where to go from then." It made sense in his mind. Just a few hours, enough to get his strength back, then they could make a plan to handle getting Vrenille back to his home in-- wherever it was. Some part of South America or Africa, as far as the logic of his brain could compute given the concept of 'jungles' being there.
He didn't, at that point, so much as go to sleep as completely pass out, very still but clearly breathing on the cot. The shack around them was a fairly simple design, just enough to keep out the howling wind and rain, with the cot, a small table with a tankard of water neatly capped, and a small bag on the floor that must have been Remus'.
It really is! Stroke of small genius on the devs' part, that one.
Of course this meant that Vrenille was going to have to figure out what to do with himself in the meantime. It was cold in the shack and the wind howled in a low, near-constant whistle outside. Obviously he wasn't going to get any body heat from Remus at this point--there was barely room on the cot anyway.
Sitting down on the floor with his back resting against the cot, he ate his own omnomberry bar, thinking over all that had happened and trying to understand the young man who fate had thrown him together with. Growing up poor made it pretty easy to spot the signs of poverty on someone else, but with Remus certain things were...different.
He didn't seem to have the same sort of hardscrabble pragmatism that life on the streets had taught Vrenille. Hard luck might have touched him more recently. But there was something else too--he was clearly used to people being afraid of him, used to living in guardedness and secrecy, and yet these same things seemed to pain him in a way that also implied he wasn't really used to them at all.
It was a mystery, but not one that made Vrenille feel disinclined to like the man. Perhaps he even liked him more for it. Granted, Vrenille generally found it easy to like people, which made the way he made a living a lot easier in turn, but Remus couldn't be seen as a mark in any traditional way. With him, it already seemed clear, everything would be a kind of barter, but Vrenille was fine with that: Remus badly needed companionship and affection; Vrenille badly needed someone who would help him find his way home.
He pulled the covers up closer around Remus and for a moment let his hand rest lightly on his shoulder atop the covers. Then he sighed, rummaged around in his pack some more and found a long-sleeve shirt which he swapped for the sleeveless one he'd been wearing. He retrieved his scarf, wrapped it around his neck once more, and picked up Remus’s wand where it had fallen on the floor, setting it on the table after only a brief examination (interesting little weapon; small, light weight).
His next order of business, he figured, was to try and get a fire going. He found an old wood-burning stove in the corner of the shack, though there was no telling how long ago it was last used. He cleaned the soot out of the grate, flicked his finger against the stove pipe to check that it sounded clear and then went out and collected branches of heather to have something to burn for fuel.
It took a while, but eventually he had a fire going. The sun had technically risen a few hours ago now, but the clouds had since rolled in thick and the day remained gray and glum. Coming back in from the moor, Vrenille’s fingers had been stiff with cold. Inside at least he could thaw out a bit. He took a blanket from his pack and sat by Remus’s cot with it wrapped around his shoulders, occasionally drifting off for a few minutes of light sleep, getting up every now and then to feed heather branches into the fire. At least when Remus awoke it should be warmer in here than it had been, for whatever comfort that would be worth.
Agreed
And found nothing. That finally properly stirred Remus' higher consciousness to kick in and his eyes opened as the sinking realization Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail weren't there. Alone.
No, not alone. His head turned and his eyes focused on the stranger who was in his home, almost puzzled at the fact that they were still here. Why? Why wouldn't they have just left and found themselves somewhere else? He wasn't sure if that built or removed trust for Vrenille, in all honesty. Still, as he slowly sat up, he realized he was going to have to figure that out very quickly.
"...hello." Awkward. This wasn't like his friends who knew all about him, he knew all about them (or so he believed). This was a stranger.
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