Chapter Text
Remus doesn’t know if the hot age-appropriate wizard is new to the board or not, but he knows he doesn’t care. Board members serve two-year terms, twice renewable, and Remus rarely gets to the point of personally knowing (or even liking) each elite millionaire who deigns to bless the non-profit Remus works tirelessly for.
After the war ended so unexpectedly, it was a surprise how much the Ministry supported the rebuilding efforts. It seemed that hidden organizers and guerrilla activists were promoted overnight, to C-suite positions on non-profits that hadn’t existed. Remus, being a lycanthrope, wasn’t quite as lucky to become a well-paid executive of the regional Advancement Beyond Social Classes. Instead, his activism-only life turned into a non-existent work-life balance for a low-paying job. His CEO is a pureblood witch, and her secretary is a squib.
Nonetheless, Remus loves his job. He pours himself into his work because he can actually see the difference he makes. Remus’s job seeks out and works with local chapters of various advancement groups, helping them navigate the rapidly-changing language of Ministry rules and handouts. Such rules seem to change overnight, almost as if the Ministry doesn’t want to help, but Remus always finds the right paperwork—and, when necessary, loopholes—in the end. He technically works with all groups, but spends the majority of his time with the Child and Young Adult Werewolf and Allied Parents group. It’s still sometimes a trip for him to see “werewolf” printed on their badges and forms, printed proudly and on purpose. It’s a good thing, though, he decided eventually.
Remus loves getting his hands dirty, submerged in his work, helping people for an entire eight-hour day, and then staying late in the office preparing to do it again tomorrow. He doesn’t love this part of his job, he thinks, as he stands in the entrance of the Advancement’s great hall. The space was converted from an elite-only ballroom during the divvying-up of space for the activists, post-war, and it usually holds meetings or town halls. Tonight it returns to its roots, house elves bearing drinks and all.
The house elves are employed and paid fair wages, of course. But still. Remus’s skin crawls when one of them calls him sir.
Tonight is a quarterly dinner event for Advancement staff and board members to mingle. Board members of non-profit do-gooder organizations seemed to spawn overnight as well, following the war’s end. They are all endlessly rich, and many of their volunteer board positions were created because they wanted an excuse to remain so. Those whose families were on the wrong side of the war, or those who made money off both sides sought redemption in charity work. And of course the charities welcomed them and their power. It was a symbiosis really, and Remus made peace with it already. But it’s easier when they get to keep to their separate ecosystem niches.
The wizard Remus doesn’t know appears in his vision again. He looks broody, with pale skin but dark hair. He’s leaning down slightly, to talk to someone. And yet, his face is good-natured. He laughs at something that is said, then looks up, and locks eyes with Remus. The wizard nods a bit, still smiling, then turns to his conversation partner.
Remus enters the room more fully, fixes himself a plate, and inserts himself into a group of staff members.
Later, the CEO, Cheryl, joins them. “Oh, Remus, did you try the tacos?” She gestures to his plate. “What did you think?” Before he responds, Cheryl follows up with a different question for a different coworker. “But really, it’s so silly how we end up congregating like this, staff on one side, board on the other.”
She herself hadn’t spent much time on the staff side, Remus thinks, but merely smiles. It is funny, but he understands how it all works. He is okay with it.
“You know,” she says. “The Board doesn’t know this space as well as we do. It’s harder for them to make the first move. Go talk to each other! Or let me introduce you.”
With this last smiling threat, Remus goes. He likes Cheryl, overall. And, she really does support their work. But he doesn’t need her to make good on her introduction promise. She tends to sing the praises of the staff to a wildly high state, to the point of extreme awkwardness when trying to carry a conversation on afterwards.
“Hello,” the handsome wizard says, smiling.
“Hi,” Remus answers. It’s still possible he is the spouse of somebody else, and not actually a board member, so Remus isn’t quite sure what to say. He isn’t a new staff person, though. Remus can tell that much from this distance—his clothing is all too expensive.
“We haven’t met yet, but I’ve heard of you and your work. Remus Lupin, right?” The wizard’s eyes are a cold blue, and having them fixed on Remus is intimidating. His face is not unkind, though.
Remus nods. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, you must serve on the board?” He picks his words deliberately. Board members describe themselves as volunteers for the cause, so Remus likes to represent them that way too, fancy event or no. Then he adds, with a faint blush, “And I hope you’ve heard more about my work than about me.”
The wizard laughs, crinkling the skin around his eyes. “More about your work than your character, although I’m sure the former speaks for the latter.”
Remus’s blush does not improve.
“I’m Sirius. This is the start of my second year serving as a board member.”
Remus steals a look around the room. One of his work friends just arrived, with her wife. “I hope the first year was a good one?”
“Oh, definitely,” Sirius says. “There’s so much to learn, but I’m really glad to be a part of the Advancement’s work. It’s so important, what all of you are doing as staff.”
Remus looks at him again. “Thank you.” It’s rare that a board member paints the picture of work distribution accurately. The staff do the work, and the board funds it.
“But don’t let me hold you captive. It was great to meet you, Remus. And thanks for the work you do.” Sirius smiles and gets ready to step away.
“It was great to meet you too, Mister…?”
Sirius’s smile vanishes. “Black. Sirius Black.” He nods, stiffly, and steps away.
“Right,” Remus mutters to himself, after he’s left alone.
He accepts a fluted glass from a nearby paid house elf, and makes his way over to Dorcas. The Black family money funds tonight’s extravagance, but also Remus’s salary, and also tomorrow’s workshop he’s co-hosting with the young werewolf group. He can’t help but laugh a little, at the absurdity of it all. And yet, he is happy. Maybe Sirius is a good one, after all. And if their charity is powered by one of the richest and most evil fallen houses of the war, then that is only fitting.