RUNNING WITH WOLVES remus lupin

O30. 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐆 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐘𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐄 . . .

𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐑 𝐓 𝐘

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

1964

"Our parents would hate this."

Eurydice Lestrange rolls her eyes at her best friend, Isobelle Parkinson, with a smile. "Who cares? I've always wanted to try a muggle pub." Isobelle sighs, "you know, this curiosity you have, is going to get us in trouble." Eurydice ignores her. But even so, she could feel her friends' nervousness. 

"If you're so scared, go home. But don't tell your brother... or mine." Eurydice says.

"Definitely not, My brother will be harsh. He already thinks you're too much of a Muggle-born sympathizer, despite your last name," Isobelle responds honestly. She was careful to say Muggle-born and not Mudblood, fearing her best friend's wrath if the derogatory name slipped from her lips. Isobelle continues, "Fine, let's get this over with and hope nobody we know sees us."

1966

This can't be real.

Eurydice stares at the ground. A muffled sob leaves her mouth. She sank to the ground as her knees buckled from under her. She ignored her surroundings as she pulled her knees to her chest. It's only when her hands lock tightly around her knees that she allows herself to cry.

What have I done?

She lets out a sob as she sits outside the muggle doctor's office.

What will I tell them? Tell him?

Her breathing is haggard now. The icy rain is pounding against her body, but she barely feels the cold as she lets the sobs wrack her body. She doesn't even notice the figure standing right behind her until it's too late. She freezes when she feels the tip of their hand on her shoulder.

"Well... I haven't seen you in a while, stranger."

Greg?

1964

Eurydice and Isobelle are sitting at the bar stools in the crowded pub. There's an awkward silence between the girls as they look around the crowded muggle pub. For a brief moment, Eurydice had the urge to order a Butterbeer. This isn't Hogsmeade, for merlin's sake. She sort of scans the room. She spots a group of teenage boys. They're playing some kind of game and laughing.

"Look, Deedee. I don't feel comfortable here." Isobelle pauses to mask her disgust. "I'm going to get going, be safe." Eurydice sighs, watching her friend leave. 

"So what brings you to this shit hole? Are you even old enough to drink?" The boy, who looks no older than her, asks accusingly from behind the bar.

"Are you?" She replies, offended at the accusation. 

The boy smirks, "fair enough."

She smirks back before asking, "So are you going to tell me your name? My parents told me never to talk to strangers, especially muggle ones." She curses herself internally for letting the word slip. 

"Muggle? Is that supposed to be some sort of lame insult?" He snorts as he pours a beer for someone.

"You're deflecting my question."