Chapter Text
“Today marks the tenth anniversary since the Michigan Marauders disappearance. The Marauders were set to play the 1981 NCAA college soccer championships, only they never arrived at Seattle airport. After losing their signal mid-airflight, investigative authorities suspected a plane crash, however various search and rescue teams were deployed with little to no success. It was only when local emergency teams tapped into a radio signal transmitted from nearly six hundred miles North of Jasper National Park, that they were finally discovered. Two years spent in the wilderness with only each other, and yet we have still yet to hear a single account from any of the lucky survivors since the first week they were rescued. The question we ask today: where are they now?”
***
May 21st 1981
If Remus Lupin despised two things in life it was this: loud talkers, and parties.
Unfortunately, the two often came hand-in-hand.
He was trying to recall how exactly he’d been roped into attending the party to begin with, when Lily Evans appeared by his side with two cups full of a beer and pressed a wet kiss to the side of his face.
“There you are!”
Lily’s cheeks were flushed, and from that alone Remus could tell she was nearly drunk, but they were all drunk; in fact Remus was sure he was the only moderately-sober person at this party – and even he was beginning to feel tipsy – but the idea of mixing the nerves he was harbouring in his stomach with half a keg of beer was nausea-inducing enough.
Clearly though, not all of his teammates felt the same.
Lily nudged his shoulder, handing him one of the cups, and as Remus wrapped his long fingers around it, he followed her gaze to the car at the centre of the bonfire, and the man standing on top of it.
Someone had made the horrible decision of dragging out a karaoke machine to the bonfire area, and Sirius Black, miraculously the team’s best striker, was screaming the lyrics of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now into the microphone.
Remus watched the other man push waves of long black hair from his face before dropping to his knees on the car’s bonnet, serenading the girls brave enough to push forward and dance by his feet.
“Remus,” Lily’s voice forced his eyes away from Sirius and back to her. “Enjoying tonight won’t change how you perform at Nationals, you know that, right?”
He was sure she was fairly warm from the liquor, but as she said this, she looped her arm through his, huddling into his side, and he did his best to stoop forward enough for her to rest her head against his shoulder.
“I know, Lils,” he murmured, wishing he could utter the statement with the same amount of conviction she had.
“But you’re going to fucking win.”
They were words enough to get his attention, and suddenly he was bursting into laughter. “Lily Evans, did you just swear?”
She was humming around the lip of the beer she was nursing, a small smile spreading over her lips. When she lowered the cup, she said, “I can swear if I want.”
“But you hardly do.”
“You’re right, I hardly do. But tonight’s the exception.”
“The exception for your vow of celibacy from me?” another voice asked.
Remus hadn’t noticed James approach, but he felt the heavy arm drop over his neck, and suddenly he was being squeezed into the side of his teammate, and close friend.
Lily sighed and gave him a pointed look. “We broke up. Mutually.”
“So, I can’t use the ex-card ever? Not even when we’re about to be crowned best in state? Lily Evans, you wound me.” Remus took the opportunity to duck out of James’ grip, and stumble backwards, away from the complicated exes. The sound of their bickering faded behind him, replaced by the pounding bass of party music.
Someone has finally unplugged Sirius in favour of a stereo and cassette player, and Remus was all too glad for the change.
Squeezing past the press of bodies surrounding the bonfire, he bypassed Peter and Mary – who seemed consumed in an intense debate over whether tonight’s party was in their honour, or the girls’, who’d been selected to travel with them as their cheerleading squad – and made his way to a shadowed crop of trees, under which he pulled out a cigarette and lit up.
The first inhale was bliss, and he felt the twitching in his fingers settle as they wrapped themselves around the familiar stick.
“Got room for one more?”
He’d no sooner settled his back against the broad base of the tree, when he was interrupted by Sirius himself, who’d stumbled his way in a rather dishevelled state.
So that’s where he’d gotten to.
“Sure,” Remus drawled, “but only if you give me the name of the lipstick you use in return.” He touched his finger to the corner of his own mouth to indicate the mess of red over Sirius lips.
Sirius guffawed and made a desperate attempt to wipe the makeup off with the back of his hand as Remus cackled.
Once he’d gotten most of it off, he took up a spot next to Remus and plucked the cigarette from his fingers, placing it between his lips.
He took a long inhale before letting the smoke glide out from his mouth, and as Remus watched, he couldn’t think of a more graceful smoker than Sirius Black.
“How are you not even just a little bit scared about Nationals?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
If Sirius was surprised, however, he didn’t show it. He rolled his head back and over to face Remus, the depth of his steel blue eyes as steady as a mellow sea.
“How can I be scared of something I’ve been dreaming of forever?”
Remus could think of a few too many things he was scared of, and he’d wanted them for longer than he could remember.
He opened his mouth to reply when the shrill static of a microphone cut through his thoughts.
“Michigannnnnn!” It was hard to mistake Marlene’s voice, and Remus turned towards it as if it were a bugle call.
“Tonight we may be here celebrating with you, but tomorrow when we make it to Nationals, I hope you know we’ll be here in spirit as the television livecasts OUR FUCKING WIN!”
The crowd of students roared their approval back at her, and the Michigan Marauders fight song seemed to erupt from amongst them, until it was all Remus could hear.
From beside him, Sirius was punching the air, chanting the words back. He paused to look at Remus over one shoulder, and flash him a broad, white grin.
See, it seemed to say, how can you be scared of something inspiring this kind of support?
Remus dropped the cigarette he’d been nursing and ground it out beneath his boot.
He walked in time with Sirius back to the bonfire, picked up a drink, and pretended, for those precious few hours, to be fearless.