Your Own Kind (Remus) // 30th September

[Elara Faolan]

"Because you can't be trusted with access to the vault, as father has repeatedly told you." She thrust a small coin purse into her youngest brother's hands, none too pleased about his attitude when she was giving up her own gold to help him fund an upcoming date. "Now stop your moaning and take what I've given you, or else you can pop off back to the wood and see if anyone is willing to hire a whinging little brat to do odd chores about their home." He wasn't likely to retain any handyman work in their little makeshift village, as his reputation for skiving off obligations was well known amongst their pack, but Elara also didn't make enough money as a bartender at the White Wyvern to regularly give handouts to her siblings, most of whom were of legal age with no reason not to at least attempt finding some post that could accommodate their monthly situation. But the truth was that this world was not built for them, and society cared very little for what happened to them so long as it did not interfere with their own lives. Sure, Elara had mates who claimed to be true friends regardless of her condition, but she knew they would drop her in an instant if the Ministry of Magic ever outlawed their fraternizing. It was difficult enough to find steady work outside of one's pack, but she refused to be one of those wolves who considered themselves 'lucky' or to be 'grateful' for being able to work amongst wizards. That would have meant admitting lycans were less than wizards, and Elara would never allow herself to fall for that shite.

The younger wolf made a taunting face, having heard her lecture about work before, but accepted the money she'd given him. Elara made a sneering face in return and then shooed the lad away. With her familial obligation sated for the day, Elara scanned the crowd bustling through Diagon Alley, pondering whether she ought to just return to her own home for a bit before her shift started, or if she could find something to entertain her for the next few hours.

[Remus Lupin]

It wasn’t that often that Remus went to Diagon Alley these days. He preferred to do most of his shopping in muggle stores, like the corner market near his flat or the bookstore down the street. But as lovely as those places were, he couldn’t get anything magical there. So this weekend's task was to go to Diagon Alley, make small talk with anyone he ran into, and get the most recent magical novel that he thought Charlotte would like. He had grown accustomed to having her around over the summer, with days and nights spent together at his flat. Saying goodbye to her when she returned to school had been difficult, and while the letters they exchanged were wonderful, he missed getting to see her. He’d be there for the next Hogsmeade trip of course, and they’d pop in to see Mary at Puddifoots. He wasn’t alone in this situation, having the one he loved still in school. Emmeline’s boyfriend was still in school, but she lived in Hogsmeade and he was sure the two of them saw each other fairly often. And Peter? Well, he was recovering from the fact Daisy had ended things between the two of them before she returned to school. Remus didn’t think it would be a permanent separation, not with how in love the two of them had always been.

He was distracted by his thoughts, and maybe that’s why didn’t dodge the woman walking towards him well, instead running into her shoulder with his. “sh*t, I’m sorry. Wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” he apologized quickly before he took a moment to really look and see who had run into. He didn’t know who she was, but he was keenly aware of what she was. And that baffled him because in his years in Diagon Alley and school, he had never actually met another werewolf. And if he could identify her as a fellow wolf, it was very likely that she would be able to tell he was one too. His curiosity was going to get the better of him, and he knew he should walk away, but he wanted to know more. He’d never been able to talk to someone who suffered the same affliction he did. “I’m Remus, by the way. Sorry again about running into you.”

[Elara Faolan]

Elara headed down the alley, leaving Gringott's behind her. Walking on the opposite side of the walkway to avoid setting off any alarms as she passed by the Magical Menagerie, the imprisoned creatures having a nasty habit of making a fuss whenever her kind were too near, she sneered at a lot of youngsters, their faces pressed up against the window and shouting to their parents about which animal they felt they deserved to own. Pets were little more than slaves, restricted to a home that was not truly theirs by a bastard who claimed them as property, kept mostly for emotional companionship regardless of the animal's desires. And they call us savages. She understood why Fenrir opted for children, if given a preference. These little creatures, no more than seven or eight by the looks of it, would be more malleable to their way of life than their parents. Adults were stubbornly set in their ways, whereas children were easy to come 'round to another point of view. How easy it would be for her to just lure those little ones away from their mum and...

The scent was unmistakable and hit her like a brick wall, jolting her out of her daydream just before the younger wolf walked right into her. The younger man apologized as Elara evaluated him. He was not from her village nor did she recognize him from Durmstrang, though he looked young enough that she might not have crossed paths with him in those hallowed halls as a student. Perhaps her siblings knew of him?

Apologies turned to introductions and Elara was silent for a few seconds longer, determining whether or not he would be worth her time. In the end, it was not his worth but her spare time to kill before her shift at the Wyvern that spurred her into speaking. "You grovel too much, little pup." Did he recognize her from somewhere or was he introducing himself because he was soft and cared what others thought of him? She assumed the latter, though her reputation in school had preceded her in the day, she doubted the wolves graduating these days cared much for tales of how some older she-wolf had strung up another student by his pants and left him atop the tower spire of the library building over night, or the times she had bludgeoned a snot-nosed little pureblood who dared speak ill of her family in her presence and sent them to the hospital wing. No, those tales would have left Durmstrang with her, but then why did this pup bother to introduce himself? "Elara," she replied, giving the lad grace she did not normally possess. 

[Remus Lupin]

He knew there were others out there like him, but he’d never actually met another werewolf before. There were rumors of villages made up of packs, but he’d never gone searching for one. And he had been to Diagon Alley many times, so it seemed strange that this would be the first time he ran into someone like him. He’d heard the stories about werewolves, that they were dangerous and not to be trusted. He was well aware of the lies and rumors spread about, because if he wasn’t hearing them in the halls of Hogwarts he had heard them over the years from his own father. And truthfully, he didn’t know if his father believed those things, or simply wanted Remus to be prepared for the discrimination he was going to face. But he’d never needed his father’s input to know what kind of life was waiting for him outside of Hogwarts. Since he’d left school in June, his only form of income had been his work in the Order. He knew better than to apply at any magical place and had avoided places such as the Ministry or Diagon Alley. He had been considering applying at the local bookstore, as they knew him well from his visits there with Charlotte over the summer.

Her response caught him off guard, and he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t trying to grovel, he was simply trying to apologize for his error in running into her. It would be safer to walk away, to not continue this conversation. While he didn’t believe the things he had heard about werewolves, he also knew that trusting a stranger wasn’t the smartest idea. But his curiosity was getting the better of him. He was expecting her to walk away and ignore his introduction, but instead, she told him her name. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, still unsure if it really was nice to meet her. Still, he held out his hand, unsure if she would even be willing to shake it. He also knew of the rumors of wolves that were working for the Dark Lord, and if she was in London it was very possible. “I don’t mean to pry but, are you from around here? It’s just I’ve never met someone like me before.”

[Elara Faolan]

The lad looked perplexed by her words and Elara was briefly concerned that she had entered into a conversation with an addlebrained wolf. Her concern was short lived, not only because she did not know enough about this Remus to be bothered with his intelligence levels, but she truly did not care. The only younger wolves she bothered taking an interest in were her siblings, and that was nothing more than familial obligation. Her mother and some of her siblings’ mothers were no longer around, and their father, while protective, was not the nurturing sort. Elara took up that mantle when she needed to, but she wasn’t about to give two shites about a pup she did not know.

He extended his hand in greeting, and Elara glanced down at the human gesture. This poor pup was clearly on his own. She did not return his handshake, nor directly answer his question, but she engaged him, nonetheless. “If you’re expecting to find our lot in wizard and muggle spaces, you’ll be lonesome for quite some time. Especially here.” Muggles had no sense of awareness beyond their own comfort, so they rarely if ever seemed to take notice of werewolves among them. Magical folk on the other hand, were more attuned to their surroundings, and as such took greater notice of those unlike them. While they hid from muggles, they actively shunned what they termed as halfbreeds. Centaurs, veela, werewolves, and the like were cast out into areas the wizards found less inhabitable, with their lands being diminished systematically as wizards expand their reach in an attempt to further hide themselves from muggles. “You’d do better in Knockturn if you're looking for acceptance, though not by much,” she offered, though he was so skiddish even in the bright street of Diagon Alley that she doubted he would find comfort in the shadows and darkness of Knockturn Alley.

[Remus Lupin]

Perhaps there should be a rule book about how to act when you accidentally stumble across a fellow werewolf in public when you grew up thinking that you were never going to find anyone who understood what it was like. Not that this woman understood what it was like - well she did, but he doubted from the look she was giving him that this was the start of a friendship. It was curious though, that he’d run into her in Diagon Alley. Remus wasn’t an idiot, he knew there was a lot about the lives of werewolves that he didn’t know about. His father wouldn’t tell him things about his work at the Ministry, so Remus didn’t know how much his father had to do with the laws and registration rules. But he didn’t feel that now was the time to get into the logistics of being a werewolf.

She didn’t shake his hand, so he pulled it back awkwardly and shoved his hands in his pockets. But he took the information she gave him, feeling strange for having to be explained the basics of werewolf society. He wasn’t about to take a stroll down Knockturn just to calm his curiosity, but it was something he made a mental note of. Perhaps he could convince the boys to come with him, they’d support him in his quest to find out more about other werewolves. It wasn’t like he had considered himself the only one afflicted, he knew there were others. He’d just never really thought about them before this moment. “Right, er. Knockturn. I’ll just…” he mumbled, about to turn around before he found his voice again. “It’s just, can you tell me if there are more like us? Besides in Knockturn, there has to be a place where people like us tend to be at.”

[Elara Faolan]

Was he putting her on? Was it possible that this young wolf was really so obtuse about the workings of his own people? Elara was inclined to believe he was taking the mickey, but the expression that crossed his face seemed too genuine for it to be a prank. He stammered a response to her suggestion and seemed to be ready to disengage, the she-wolf would have found the sudden end of this strange interaction perfectly acceptable, but his voice strengthened and he dared another question.

Their village was a safe haven, with sentries posted on the borders round the clock to ensure no outsiders wandered into their midst unannounced. There had been breaches here and there, but always discovered quickly and the intruders (along with the incompetent guards who had failed in their duties) were dealt with swiftly. Elara was not about to welcome this little alley pup into their sacred space, but his seemingly sincere naivety had struck her interest and she resolved to spend the remainder of her free time discovering how it was that a wolf had been raised alone, seemingly by wizards.

Considering him for a moment, she looked on in silence, taking in his appearance. He was thin but not unsettlingly so. Tall. Scarred. His clothes were not unfashionable, but she couldn’t say that he came from any sort of money. A slim bulge in his trouser pocket piqued her interest and she allowed a slight smile to form.

“You’ve a wand. You attended school, then. Did you not make any mates in your time at Durmstrang?” She wondered again whether one of her siblings might recognize this pup, though she could say with certainty that her brothers and sisters would surely never actually befriend anyone so timid and dim.