The Collision Theory | Remus Lupin

44. New Year New Me

An overload of senses.
That's what it is.
Remus pulls me closer, one hand on the small of my back, the other on the nape of my neck. I'm on the tip of my toes in an attempt to try to close the height difference, the exploding fireworks filling my ears-

"Happy New- oh my God!" The cry breaks us apart immediately. I let go of Remus, who looks slightly dazed, to see Lily staring wide-eyed at us, Miriam with her hands clapped over her mouth, James and Sirius with jaws dropped and Peter with a smug smirk.

"You two...you?" Lily gapes at me, then to Remus, then back at me again.

"Happy New Year?" I think I've gone the deepest shade of red I have ever gone in my life.

James and Sirius turn to look at each other before, "Novak and Moony sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Oh my God..."

Lily beams, calling over her shoulder, "Mrs Lupin! I owe you a fiver!"

"Does that mean I lost?" Mr Potter turns around from where he is standing with the others.
They bet on us?

"Afraid so." Lily shrugs, and Monty fishes out a note from his back pocket to hand to his wife.

Remus raises an eyebrow, asking exactly what I'm thinking, "You all... bet on us?"

"Yeah." They mutter sheepishly.

*

We only really get home around three am, all supporting each other in an attempt to hide the fact we might have had one cup too many.

I must have fallen asleep straight away because I wake up some four hours later, still in my blouse and skirt, my duvet being hogged by darling Miriam.
And my head is aching.
Slowly, I roll off of the mattress, squinting at the light coming through the window. I pull on my pyjama pants quickly, taking advantage of my still sleeping roommates, and head downstairs.

"Who's up at this ungodly hour?" I almost have a heart attack at the voice, coming from the kitchen.

"Says the one who's already up."

"Good morning." Remus is sitting at the table, book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, "Hangover?"

"More like 'bashed in the head'," I sit down, rubbing my eyes, "Got a remedy?"

"You're lucky I just used the kettle." He placed his bookmark into his book and gets up, quickly assembling my cure, "Surprisingly, coffee does the trick."

"Thanks." I whisper, even my own voice feeling very loud. He sits down with greater ease and comfort than me and picks up his book again, "Whatcha reading?"

"Picked it up from Monty's books, biography of Celestina Warbeck."

"Blimey, is she still going?" I take a sip of the coffee he hands me.

"Says here she's forty-eight," he flicks a page, "but I beg to differ. They avoid the maths in this book, she's at least fifty."

"Probably."

"Are the lovebirds up?" I groan as James' loud voice echoes in my skull. He attempts to ruffle my hair, "Hangover, Novak?"

"Shh!" I away his hand away and down the last of my coffee.

It's going to be a long day.

*

The others wake up soon afterwards, and I am met with similar comments to those of James'. I go up to take a shower partly to feel more awake, but mostly to just get away for a bit.