Chapter Text
One of the unfortunate truths of life is that sometimes you have a job you don't enjoy. Alas, you can't quit, because you've spent a over a decade at that job and you've settled into a routine you're slightly terrified of breaking. Your job pays the bills and leaves you a little extra for the weekends. You cope by befriending the chatty person in the cubicle beside yours, who actually seems to enjoy their job, somehow. You ask them how they do it and they just laugh, thinking you're joking, but you aren't.
Such was the life of Remus Lupin. He was thirty-eight. He worked at a bank, doing something his mother never quite understood, no matter how many times he tried to explain his job to her. He'd wanted to study literature and become a writer, but his family hadn't been well off enough to support him, so he chose finance instead, with hopes of a steadier career. He dragged himself to work five days a week, fuelled by strong tea and dreams of weekend lie-ins. Peter, from the next cubicle, loved his job, for some reason. Remus once asked him for tips on how to not wilt a little bit every morning when you realised you had to go to work, but Peter just chortled affectionately and turned back to his desk—not quite the answer Remus was seeking.
The day everything changed started out much the same as usual, if not worse. Remus's phone ran out of charge sometime during the night, so he missed his alarm and had to scramble out the front door without showering. On his way to work, an old lady accidentally stomped on his foot with her walker in the train. When he finally stumbled into the chair at his cubicle, late, with a potentially bruised toe, Peter cheerily said, "Morning, Remus! James told me to tell you once you arrived that he wants you in his office, ASAP."
"What for?" Remus asked, eyes wide. "D'you think I'm in trouble?"
Peter just shrugged, which wasn't very comforting. Remus sighed and made his way to James's office. He knocked on the door bearing the plaque Mr James F. Potter, swallowing down his nerves.
"Enter," called a voice from inside the office. Remus pushed open the door and stepped in, hesitantly. James Potter was seated behind his desk, square-shaped, gold-rimmed glasses glinting in the sunshine streaming in from the window. He looked up at Remus and beamed.
"Remus! Come in, come in! Peter passed on my message, then?" He gestured at one of the chairs on the other side of his desk and Remus sat down in one.
"He said you wanted to see me…" Remus said, tentatively. He had no idea what this was about. James was a pleasant boss to work with, friendly and casual in his demeanour. He was around Remus's own age and insisted that everyone call him by his first name. That being said, he ran a tight ship, unafraid to reprimand incompetent employees or occasionally even fire them. Remus had somehow managed to avoid being told off by James even a single time—though he suspected that was about to change.
"Yes, I did," James said with a nod. "Relax, Remus. Have a mint." He pushed forward a little metal box, which Remus declined politely. He wished James would just get on with it. The pleasantries were painful.
He sat through fifteen minutes of James asking after his weekend and family—how did he remember that Remus's mother's name was Hope?—with his hands under his thighs, knee bouncing. At long last, James sat back in his chair and smiled at Remus, saying, "I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here."
"Yes, actually," Remus said, nodding frantically. Cut the suspense.
"What, I can't just want to catch up with you?" James asked, pouting playfully. "I'm joking. It's nothing bad, Remus, calm down. Are you sure you don't want a mint? I find them oddly soothing. Anyway, I'm sorry to say you're going to have to clear up your cubicle."
Remus throat went dry. "What?" he croaked.
"Believe me, I understand. I'll be sorry to see little Moony go," James continued, referring to the small stuffed wolf Remus kept at his cubicle—a gift from one of his little cousins. As if that was a bigger issue than Remus losing his fucking job. "But he'll be moving to a better place, as will you."
Wait, what?
James chuckled at Remus's blank, confused face. "You're getting a promotion! Congratulations, Remus! You're moving out of the cubicle into your own office."
Remus gasped. "What? Really? I'm not getting fired?"
"Of course not," James reassured him. "You're a very hard worker and I've been trying to get you a promotion for ages. As luck would have it, Dorcas resigned last week, leaving the position for Head of Department empty. And who would be a better candidate than you?"
Remus stared for second, still processing what James had just said. "…Thank you," he finally remembered to say. "Really. Thank you so much. When do I start?"
+=+=+=+
Remus bade his farewell to Peter the day he finally had to move into his new office. Peter just laughed and patted him on the back, helping to carry his sticky notes and the framed picture of his family that Remus kept on his desk. Moony, of course, was relocated by James himself.
It wasn't as big as James's office, but not small, by any means. It had a little window that looked out on the park outside and a mug full of pens that Dorcas had left behind. Remus sat down at his desk for the first time, relishing the feeling. He understood what his role was as Head of Department—having gone through some extra training the previous week and having gotten helpful tips from Dorcas before she packed up for good—and truthfully believed he could handle it. It was more responsibility than he was used to, but that was to be expected. He'd video called his parents with the news and they'd both smiled so hard that he found himself thinking that maybe he didn't mind working at a bank all that much.
He'd just opened his email inbox when a knock sounded on his door. Probably Peter come to give me something I left behind, he thought and said, "Come in?"
He didn't feel like he had enough authority to say 'enter' like James did.
The door opened and a small desk was pushed in, screeching as it dragged across the floor. A person followed it, shoving the desk with all their might.
"Here, let me help you," Remus murmured, automatically standing up and crossing the room, not stopping to wonder who the person was or what they was doing. Together, they pushed the desk into the room. The stranger positioned the desk a little to one side, facing Remus's. A chair followed, an expensive-looking bag perched on the seat.
Once both the desk and chair were safely in place, the intruder looked up, mopping his brow. He was young—a teenager, Remus guessed. He flicked his long, dark hair out of his eyes and smiled, tilting his head up to look at Remus.
"You're Remus Lupin, right?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, his accent posh. He stuck out a pale, manicured hand with black painted fingernails for Remus to shake. "I'm Sirius Black. Your assistant."
"My—what?" Remus took Sirius's hand and shook it. It was as soft as it looked. "I don't have an assistant."
Sirius frowned. "Well, clearly you do, sir. Since I'm here. That's my desk," he said, pointing at the furniture they'd just set up.
"Oh…" Remus didn't know what to say. Dorcas hadn't had an assistant. James hadn't said anything about one. "E—excuse me for a minute." He squeezed past Sirius and exited his office, marching up to James's and rapping firmly on the door.
"Enter," James said and Remus pushed open the door.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your—"
"James, why is there a boy in my office claiming to be my assistant?" Remus interrupted.
"Because he is your assistant!" James said, spreading his arms like he was saying ta-da!
Remus gaped at him. "I don't know what to do with an assistant! I didn't know I'd have one."
"It was a last minute decision," James explained, pushing forward his box of mints. Remus didn't accept. "His father is a major shareholder for our bank. He insisted we hire his son and said it was urgent. Luckily, the boy is qualified and quite competent."
So, nepotism, but worse, because we were threatened into it. James hadn't admitted as much, but he could read between the lines. "How qualified can he be? He's, what—seventeen? Is hiring him even legal?"
"He's twenty-three," James corrected. "Graduated in Business Administration a few months ago. He has glowing letters of recommendation from his professors and when I interviewed him, I found him intelligent and capable."
Remus sighed. "I don't even know what I'd ask him to do. Dorcas didn't have an assistant. I have no guide to go by."
James shrugged, finally pulling back his box of mints and popping one green circle into his mouth. "Normal assistant stuff. He's there to help you. He's a quick learner and a hard worker. Your workload is going to be quite a bit more than it was before. I'm sure you'll find some use for him. Now, if you'll let me get back to my own work…"
Remus sighed, but nodded and left the room.
When he returned to his own office, he discovered that Sirius had unpacked his bag and was sitting at his desk, idly scrolling on his phone, legs crossed at the knee. He looked up at Remus and hurriedly put his phone away and uncrossed his legs.
Remus held up a hand. "No, that's alright. Sit comfortably." Sirius slowly crossed his legs again. He was dressed in a simple white shirt and black slacks, but they looked expensive. Maybe they were expensive; or maybe he just wore them well. "I just spoke to James. You actually are my new assistant."
"That's what I said," Sirius said with a shrug. "So… What do you want me to do? I'm afraid I'm quite new to this sort of thing, Mr Lupin."
"Me too. I've never had an assistant before. This is my first day not working in a cubicle. I don't know what to do with a whole office, much less an assistant," Remus admitted, chuckling weakly. He settled himself behind his desk and reopened his laptop to take a look at his emails.
"What are you doing right now?" Sirius asked. Remus looked up to see him tilting his head, hair hanging past his shoulder. Remus's own hair did not look as soft as that. He wondered what shampoo Sirius used. "Mr Lupin?"
Remus blinked. "What? Oh, I'm going through my emails."
Sirius hummed. "I could do that for you. I could mark anything that looks important and delete spam emails. Maybe reply to the simple ones that just need an acknowledgement or a thank you. Stuff like that."
Was that the kind of thing assistants did? That could be very helpful. Remus hated dealing with emails. "Alright, then," he said. "But ask me if you're unsure about anything at all." Sirius nodded, and Remus gave him the login information of his work email. He wasn't too sure if that was how things were done, but he couldn't think of an alternative, so he took the risk.
Emails off his plate, Remus got started with his actual work for the day. Now and then Sirius would read aloud an email and ask him what to do with it, but apart from that and the soft clacking of nails on laptop keyboards, the office was silent. It was nice, but a little disconcerting. Remus missed Peter and his cheerful chattering.
At lunch break, he stretched and stood up from his desk. Sirius looked up and smiled at him. "Not having lunch here, Mr Lupin?"
"No, I think I'll catch up with my friend back there," Remus replied, jerking his thumb in the direction of his old cubicle. "Did you pack your own lunch, or…"
Sirius rummaged in his bag and his face fell. "I left it at home. It's okay though, I saw a cafe down the road. I'll just pop over there and get a sandwich or something."
"Okay, let me know how it is, I've been meaning to try that cafe myself," Remus said earnestly. "See you later." He stepped out into the hallway, let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and made his way over to Peter's cubicle.
"Remus!" his friend called, waving him over. "How was your first day as HoD?"
"Alright so far," he said, drawing up an empty chair beside Peter. "I've got an assistant. I didn't know what to do with him. He offered to help me with emails."
"Oh, that's nice!" Peter said, thumping Remus on the back. "Emails are a bit of a bore, aren't they?"
They're the bane of my existence. "They really are," Remus agreed, rootling around in his bag for the lunch he'd packed. He pushed aside chargers, documents, files, a water bottle, a spare notebook… and no lunch. "Fuck. Forgot my lunch."
"You could ask your assistant to get you something?" Peter suggested.
"Do assistants do that kind of thing?" Remus wondered aloud. "That counts as running errands outside the office, no?"
"It's for lunch in the office," Peter countered. "Fletcher does it all the time."
That was reassuring. Fletcher was James's assistant and if he picked up lunch for his boss sometimes, then surely Sirius could do that for Remus?
"You know what, I think you're right, Pete. I think he was just on his way— Sirius!" Remus called, spotting his assistant crossing the room. Sirius turned in the direction of Remus's voice and, on spotting him, switched courses and came up to where he sat.
"Hey, Mr Lupin. What's up?" He had his bag over one shoulder, hair freshly tied up in a ponytail. A few strands fell loose around his face.
"So… it turns out that I've forgotten my lunch as well." Remus pulled a self-deprecatory face. "Would you mind getting me something from the cafe, too? I'll pay for it."
"Sure," Sirius said. "What would you like?"
"Get me one of whatever you're having," Remus said. "That way, if it isn't good we can suffer together."
Sirius laughed and hoisted his bag. "Alright, Mr Lupin. I'll be back soon."
Peter let out a low whistle as they watched him leave, closing the door carefully behind him. Remus turned to his friend and frowned.
"Pete, he's barely out of uni."
Peter put his hands up in surrender. "I don't even swing that way. He's just good-looking, that's all. I've got eyes."
Remus had eyes, too. Sirius was extraordinarily good-looking, what with his sharp features and curious grey eyes and long, wavy hair. One would have to be a fool to not notice.
Conversation drifted to other things and Remus barely noticed the time passing when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"I got us both a tomato basil pesto sandwich each," Sirius said, holding out a little bundle wrapped in paper. "Thought it was a safe option."
"Cheers," Remus said, taking the sandwich from Sirius. He stood up and clapped Peter on the shoulder. "I'll see you later, then, Pete."
Peter nodded goodbye and Remus and Sirius returned to their office to eat their sandwiches. "I thought you'd eat with your friend," Sirius said as he pushed the door open and sank into his chair. "Not that I'm complaining, of course, sir."
Remus wrinkled his nose. "Don't call me 'sir'. And while you're at it, you don't need to call me 'Mr Lupin', either. Call me Remus." He unwrapped his sandwich and took a big bite. "Oh, this is delicious."
"Remus," Sirius repeated. "You didn't answer my question, Remus." He'd already started eating his sandwich in the corridor and he continued chewing as Remus hummed.
"I've had lunch with Peter for years. I can see him anytime I want. You're new here. You don't have anyone else to eat with. Right?" he asked, suddenly anxious that he'd overstepped. Maybe Sirius was friends with another assistant or someone else closer to his age whom he'd rather spend his lunch break with.
Sirius smiled. "I don't have anyone else to eat with. Thank you."
Remus internally let out a sigh of relief. "So… How are you finding your first day here? Was going through my emails very boring?"
"It was fine," Sirius said with a laugh. "I didn't mind."
"Well, thank you, anyway," Remus said, tipping an imaginary hat at Sirius. "I think break's nearly over. Shall we get back to work?"
They spent the rest of the day working in companionable silence. Remus liked it. He wasn't used to working alone and he found the little noises Sirius made oddly soothing—the soft thumping of his shoe as he tapped his foot, the sighs he let out before asking what to do with a certain email, even the gulping sounds of him drinking from his water bottle. Signs that there was another person in the room.
At the end of the day, Remus stood up, stretched and shut his laptop. "Done, Sirius?"
"Yeah, I just need to finish this one email," Sirius murmured. "It's a thank you for working with us email. Pretty standard. James gave me the format yesterday."
Remus waited a minute for Sirius to wrap up his work, but he was still typing away at the end of it. "Sirius?"
"Sorry, just saw another email…" Sirius answered distractedly. "You can pack up and leave if you want, Remus. I'll stay and finish this."
Remus winced. He'd been in the position Sirius was right now, which was why he stepped forward and gently pushed Sirius's laptop closed. His assistant looked up at him, incredulous.
"Don't work longer than you need to," he advised. "I learned that the hard way. This job is a nine-to-five. Let it stay that way. Bosses tend to get used to you working overtime and they will try to exploit that. I mean— I won't," Remus corrected, realising that he was Sirius's boss, "but, you know. Just a tip for the future. Things are better now with James in charge, but our previous boss, Moody…" He shuddered. "I stayed in late a few times and the next thing I knew, he was giving me extra work because I was in the office till seven in the evening, anyway."
Sirius's expression had shifted to one of quietly suppressed mirth. "I'm not planning to stay till seven," he replied, "but thank you for looking out for me. I just need ten minutes and then I will leave, I swear."
"Suit yourself," Remus said, embarrassed, reopening Sirius's laptop. Why had he just closed it like that before speaking? He internally shook his head at himself. This was just his assistant. There was no need for him to act like a mentor and take the boy under his wing. There was no need to try and impress him with his 'hard-earned wisdom'. Sirius seemed smart and capable enough as he was.
"Would you wait for me, though, Remus?" Sirius using his name interrupted Remus's internal scolding. "You could just sit and watch me work while I finish, if it's no trouble. We could walk out together." He tilted his head and blinked pretty grey eyes at Remus, eyelashes casting soft shadows on his cheeks.
"Of course," Remus said, sitting back down in his chair with a thump. "I don't mind."
"Okay," Sirius said, smiling at him over his laptop.
Remus didn't just sit and stare at his assistant while he worked, of course. That would've been creepy. He spent his time packing up and texting his mother about his day. If he did glance at Sirius now and then, it was purely to see if he needed any help.
"I'm done," Sirius finally announced, shutting his laptop and shoving it into his fancy bag. "Thank you for waiting for me, Remus."
"You're welcome," Remus mumbled, following him out the door.
They walked in silence past Peter's now empty cubicle and got into the lift together. "How are you commuting?" Remus asked as the metal doors slid open and they stepped out.
"Oh, um. My family's car…" Sirius said, sounding tentative for the first time all day. His eyes darted to Remus's face and then away.
There's nothing shameful in having a family car, Remus thought. Not everyone can afford for each member of the family to own their own vehicle—Remus knew that firsthand. Growing up, his family hadn't had a car at all. His father had bought his first one with Remus's help only after he'd secured this job at the bank.
Remus opened his mouth to say as much when a sleek, black limousine came to a stop in front of the building. A small man hopped out of the front seat—a driver— and held a side door open. The car appeared to be otherwise empty.
"That's me," Sirius said and when Remus turned to stare at him, his cheeks had a light, red flush across them. Right… Son of a major shareholder.
"Ah—goodbye, then," Remus managed to stammer just before Sirius passed through the front double doors. He waved goodbye and slipped into the seat offered by the driver. Remus could only stare as the driver returned to his own seat and drove off.