Settling In

[onewizardwolfpack]

The house had clearly been lived in, and lived in well. Remus wondered by whom.

It had a porch, a proper one, that wrapped around its face to one side. It was elevated on posts that lattice work, some kind of woven plant fiber, that must have taken ages to make but hadn't been much maintained, going between them. It didn't look like the other huts on the island, or the houses he'd seen that people referred to as the estates. He supposed someone had built it themselves, over some time. It looked as though it had once been the one room, and the others had been added after. He didn't really need more than the one, but he wouldn't complain.

There were scratches in the wood floor, from the claws of some kind of canine. Multiple canines, it looked like. One or more extremely large ones, at that, and he wondered if that boded well or not. He would lean toward not.

Still, it was a place, away from all the people that filled up the compound, no neighbors particularly close by. It was nice than the flat he'd left behind, that was for damn sure.

Even if it didn't have any furniture.

He'd taken a few hours to sweep it out, even taking the broom to the corners and ceiling, which was all open space and thick beams. It was a bit miserable without any magic to take care of short cuts, but there was something nice about doing something so simple that nonetheless took up all of his thoughts. He used a wet towel to go over the floors and the windows and in the end, it was clean. He dropped the filthy towel into the emptied bucket the'd been using for the water, and leaned against the rail of the porch, to look out on what was, now, his view. It basically looked like the rest of the island, a lot of dark earth and heavy green jungle foliage. It was quiet, though, and he could appreciate that. He didn't straighten when he noticed the wolf mostly hidden in the thick ferns, though he was surprised it was there. Maybe it had been the one that had left the scars in the wood. Perhaps it was about to express its displeasure at Remus moving in, and he considered that this would be problematic, as all he had was a broom and a bucket to dissuade it from doing so, but after a moment it turn and ran, and only then did Remus realize the sheer size of it.

Bloody hell.

He turned back into the hut- the house, he supposed, really- and took mental stock. He needed a bed, some kind of dresser. Some clothing to put in said dresser. It was a strange feeling, moving in. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.

He wasn't sure how he felt about the island in general. All he really knew was, he had a week until he saw with his own eyes whether or not the curse had followed him there.

Comments

[cleverness]

Life on the island wasn't something that Hermione would have wished on all of the people that she knew. It made some people feel trapped. It made other people feel powerless. And whether it was sympathy or empathy which colored Hermione's own emotions, she felt that she could understand every one of the many complaints that people made about Tabula Rasa. There was no question of where she wanted to be in the long run, or even of which place she would choose if given that chance— she wanted to return home. But it was one thing to look forward to shaping a new future, and another entirely to know that circumventing it was for the best.

Sirius' presence on the island had long since been, by Hermione's estimation, the latter. Granted, she didn't know what came after death. But at least for these formative years, Sirius could largely relax more than he'd ever had the chance to back home.

Remus Lupin seemed to be even less of a question. Perhaps it was because she knew that he'd had the capacity for starting a family. Somehow, he'd managed to work past the trauma, past all the adversity, found a loving wife, had a son. And it was all ripped away by, what? The inevitability of war? The unfairness of chance? Hermione didn't want to speak for Remus, of course, or be overbearing when she was certain that others would already fill that role. But she did deeply hope to somehow make his time on the island better. With a deep breath, she passed by a few direwolves on the way to Remus' hut, armed with a large basket of pastries from the bakery, even pain au chocolat baked with milk chocolate that Walter Bishop had helped her make. Glancing over her shoulder and wishing one more time that she'd brought any of the others with her, Hermione took a deep breath and knocked on the front door.

"Hello? Erm... excuse me, is this the residence of one Remus Lupin?"

[onewizardwolfpack]

Remus leaned out of the room that he assumed was the bedroom, as it had a closet. He stared for a moment at the door.

He was ninety percent certain there was no anti-werewolf committee on the island to tell him he'd moved into the wrong neighborhood. He was almost as certain there was no werewolf registry, in fact, for them to reference and even know he was one, so that bumped his initial level of certainty up to a solid hundred percent.

The feeling of trepidation, however, remained.

The voice was young and female, but belonged to neither Luna nor Cassie. Puzzled, he moved to the front door and opened it, blinking down at the girl with the basket of baked goods. He didn't have any currency, so he wasn't sure what direction this could possibly go in.

"Yes," he told her.

Then, after a moment, offered a, "Hello."

He'd had more polite conversations in the past week than he had in the past five years. There were simple niceties he was still relearning.

[cleverness]

Her breath drew quick when he opened the door, Hermione blinking up at a face significantly younger than she'd been most familiar with, but far more tired than the boy she'd befriended some months ago on Tabula Rasa. Still, it was easy enough for her eyes to land on familiar features, enough to trigger a sincere, if hesitant smile. She held out her hand, the one not holding the basket.

"Hi, my name is Hermione Granger," she stammered, trying her best not to trip over her words. "And I'm a friend of Harry's. I don't know if he's mentioned me or not— not that he should have— but I thought... both as someone who knows you in the future and as a member of the Council, that I should stop by and pay a visit. Although—"

Eyes briefly glancing inside, Hermione bit her lower lip.

"Of course, if you're busy, I don't mean to disturb you."

[onewizardwolfpack]

He blinked a moment before taking her hand and shaking it, keeping up with the somewhat nervous speech. She was very pretty, despite the nervousness and unruly hair.

"Hermione," he repeated, "yes, Harry mentioned you. You're a- a student of mine, yes? Or rather will be." As wholly unlikely as he still found that idea.

He managed to offer her a smile as he withdrew his hand, though it was slight and brief.

"I'm not at all busy. It's very good to meet you."

[cleverness]

Immediately breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione's smile widened. Although capable of giving thorough explanations in the classroom, Hermione didn't feel nearly as adept in social situations. And really, how much more complex did it get than facing your late professor when he was only a few years older than yourself? It'd been easier, in a way, to speak with Remus when they'd been of an age. There had been at least that small detail that they could use to identify with each other.

But knowing that Harry had already provided some context made everything easier. He'd probably offered a good word, as he had so many times when introducing his friends; Hermione only hoped that she wouldn't let Harry down.

"Yes," she nodded. "I will be a student of yours about a decade down the road. I can't imagine how strange that must sound, but it's— it's very good to meet you again. I brought some things to eat, in case you were hungry." Hermione offered the basket sheepishly.

"We have a really remarkable bakery across from the Compound, so I can't take credit for much of this."

[onewizardwolfpack]

She'd brought him a welcome basket, in the manner of a neighbor or friend. Remus's completely lack of familiarity with such a gesture showed for a moment as he hesitated, slightly taken aback, before extending a hand to accept it, blinking rapidly.

"Oh. Ah, thank you, that's-" Kind. She wasn't the first to be. It made him feel a bit stupid, to be faced with it.

"Incredibly thoughtful, thank you, Hermione. I would put them in the pantry or on the table but I... haven't either of those things," he said, glancing into the empty house, the fingers of one hand rubbing in a brief, self-conscious gesture across his lips.

"Nor any place to offer you to sit, save, ah," he gestured to the stoop.

[cleverness]

Glancing briefly inside again, Hermione's lips pulled thin, the expression sheepish. "Ah, yes, that... would be because we redistributed the previous owner's belongings, I would suppose. That might be something worth looking into on my part, making sure that all huts are at least outfitted with standard furniture before we assign people to live there," Hermione frowned, though her lips still curved in an attempt at a smile. "Gosh, I'm sorry for that trouble, erm."

With a slight laugh, she shook her head, trying to settle her hair, which never dealt especially well with the island's humidity.

"We could always sit outside?" she offered, glancing about the area. "The weather's almost always lovely here, although sometimes we do get sudden showers."

[onewizardwolfpack]

He nodded a little, leaving the door to the hut open- more fresh air, however muggy, couldn't hurt- and gestured them toward the steps. They were a proper stair, almost- the house was raised up about five feet, in case of flooding, he'd assumed- and he sat on one side of them, resting his elbows on his knees once he'd placed the basket between them.

"You said you're on the council?"

[cleverness]

Loosely twining her fingers and letting her hands rest in her lap, Hermione nodded, shoulders held back as though in deference— he was, after all, still her teacher, even if he hadn't experienced those years yet, and there was something about his demeanor even now that commanded a certain need for respect. To be able to look one another straight in the eye.

"That's right," replied Hermione, a hesitant smile on her lips. "I'm one of the five elected officials that serves on the Council. If nothing else, it means that I'm fairly familiar with the island."

[onewizardwolfpack]

He hadn't realized he was hungry, but the presence of the baked goods could no longer go ignored. There was, in particular, a chocolate croissant, which he lifted from the basket, turning it over in his fingers before ripping off a small piece.

"And that the people here trust you," he pointed out.

[cleverness]

"And people here trust me," she agreed with a bashful smile, exhaling. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, hands worrying where they clasped together. While there was an unmistakable hint of pride that she carried around her, it was tempered by her efforts to always remain realistic and self-critical. "Although, to be honest, I think a large portion of that started as my reputation preceding me. I'd been on the island before, for one, but... in addition to that, there are books that have been written about Harry's life, and apparently there's a fair amount about myself in them. I haven't read them personally, though. It seems a bit..."

She wrinkled her nose.

"I don't know, a bit strange to trust the words of someone I don't even know," she concluded with a soft nod.

[onewizardwolfpack]

Remus paused in his quiet, inward enjoyment of real chocolate and blinked at Hermione, eyes on moment owlishly blank and the next rather shrewd indeed, if still confused.

"I'm sorry, books? About..."

[cleverness]

"Did Sirius not tell you?" Hermione asked, before pressing her hands again to her lips, hoping that she hadn't betrayed his confidence in any way— it wasn't something that the group particularly tried to hide from one another, after all, but perhaps Sirius thought it was too soon, perhaps Sirius didn't want Remus getting his hands on them yet. There were any number of practical reasons for not telling Remus, and Hermione knew that she could only trust Sirius' judgment most on the matter, not having known Remus half as well. Not until he was already an even-tempered professor, at least.

Deciding that there wasn't a point in shying from the matter, Hermione pressed on with a deep breath. "There are books, yes. About Harry's life. Seven of them in total, if I recall correctly, written by an author I've never heard of."

[onewizardwolfpack]

"No," Remus said, shaking his head faintly, "he did. I'd only... I'm afraid I arrived shortly after- In rather bad shape." He shook his head a little.

"The first few hours are a bit muddy, still. I haven't heard much more on the subject since then. ...bit disquieting, really," he murmured.

[cleverness]

"Ah," Hermione breathed in understanding, nodding as she pulled her lower lip in and made a mental note to touch base with Sirius again at some point. The unfortunate thing was that, had the two of them been of the age that Hermione had known those years before, the person she would've gone to for advice was almost certainly Remus himself, never the other way around. And even then, with their ages disparate, it didn't feel quite right to ask Sirius, who hadn't been through the perceived betrayal, how exactly to speak with Remus.

She wasn't sure that she had ever been more tempted to read the books than right then.

"I suppose... that no one wanted to overly scare or overwhelm you," she concluded with a soft nod. "Especially arriving from when you did, which I've heard vaguely about, but I haven't— I haven't pressed for that many details, it doesn't feel like my place. But if you want to know more, I think you deserve to know and I'd be willing to explain, it's just— complicated, naturally."

[onewizardwolfpack]

It wasn't anyone's place, and the fact that the girl sitting beside him even knew of his lycanthropy was deeply unsettling.

"Well, I am neither scared nor overwhelmed." Took a bit more than books, these days, no matter how revealing they might have been. They were about Harry's life, not his own, and he was still somewhat skeptical as to how much that meant he could possibly feature in them.

"I would ask you questions, but I... honestly can't think of where to begin. Or what I would want to know, precisely."

[cleverness]

Hermione nodded, pressing her lips together in thought. Truth be told, there wasn't much that she wanted to tell anyone from the past, aside from the fact that the war was won, in the end.

(But when did a war really end? The core problems weren't solved. The mentality which told them that there was a difference between those of Muggle birth and pureblood heritage still existed. Neither side trusted the other on the whole. In that sense, the war was never over.)

"Truth be told," she began, pressing her palm to her opposite forearm, "when I first arrived, I was adamant that none of us be told anything beyond what we knew already from home. I feared that the knowledge would somehow make its way back and change the course of history. It's hard to fight that habit, even now."

[onewizardwolfpack]

"But no one remembers, correct? From what I've been told," Remus replied, finding himself vaguely pleased to be having a thoughtful, intelligent conversation with someone, "people who have gone and return who ought to have memories of the place don't."

[cleverness]

"Well, that's how it appears, yes," Hermione nodded, tapping her lower lip with the pad of her thumb. "But it's difficult to truly say. People who have gone and return, we don't know that they're necessarily the same person. We don't know that their memories are erased and bodies reset for another visit. For all we know, there might be yet another dimension that people leaving the island go to, completely separate from our arrival here."

The fear of that possibility was greater than Hermione wanted to admit.

[onewizardwolfpack]

"Right," Remus murmured, "an infinite possibility of places for timelines to split."

That was almost a nice thought. If Sirius had been there so long, maybe it meant there was a world where things had gone differently. His natural inclination was to think not, however. He thoughtfully chewed another bite of croissant.

"So you haven't read them. The books. Has Harry?"

[cleverness]

"Oh no," Hermione shook her head with a wince, almost laughing at the thought. "No, Harry and I... are of a similar mind when it comes to the books. I don't think either of us will be reading them anytime soon, and between the two of us, I would expect myself to cave before Harry would."

Rubbing at the back of her neck and waving absently to shoo some bugs away, Hermione shrugged a shoulder.

"It's a bit strange, isn't it? I read plenty of books about Harry before I'd even started at Hogwarts, but these books are supposedly written so closely to his perspective. I'm not sure I would be comfortable reading it, and I can definitely understand Harry's reservations. We haven't had good run-ins with writers so far."