CHAPTER NINETEEN

.  .  .

ENOCH wakes to the smell of cleaning products. He frowns softly to himself, curling up under his blankets in an attempt to escape the smells. Howie grunts when he's bumped, but quickly adjusts to the movement. The brunet doesn't know why they would be cleaning; he isn't aware of any potential visitors that are supposed to be coming today. But he knows it's not a normal clean, the smells tell him it's the type of clean reserved for guests the family isn't entirely comfortable enough with to let them see the house in its normal state. Not that their house isn't normally clean—at least not to Enoch. Magic makes it easy to keep on top of the small things.

The soft sounds of music float through the air, accompanied with the quiet scuffle of feet. Enoch knows he'll be up soon. He wants to continue sleeping, but the sounds of life will draw him from the warm blankets soon enough. Attempting to keep sleeping when he knows everyone else is up always make him feel lazy, like he should be up and doing something even if he knows full well he's only going to end up migrating to the couch.

Sure enough, he's up in the next minute. He grabs the nearest shirt lying on the floor and pulls that over his head as he leaves his room. Howie stutters around his feet, before running off. There's a quiet "Bonjour, Howie," from Odeda. As Enoch enters, he spots his dad sitting on the couch, newspaper in hand, and instantly makes a beeline for him. Alistair doesn't even look up from his paper, though he lifts it slightly, as his son plonks himself down on the couch. Enoch spreads himself out, resting his head on his father's lap. The paper drops back down, so Enoch can just read it if he turns his head enough. He doesn't, staring up at Alistair instead.

"Have a good sleep?" Alistair asks, turning the page of his newspaper. Enoch hums an affirmative response, shuffling slightly.

"You guys woke me up though."

"Sorry, kiddo." Alister chuckles softly. He lets go of newspaper long enough to ruffle the brunet's hair. "We have a guest coming over for dinner. Your mother likes to keep things neat for work guests."

"Who is it?"

"Remus Lupin. You haven't met him." Enoch nods in agreement. The name isn't familiar to him at all.

"We invited him over for dinner before but he's been busy." Odeda adds as she enters the room, a barrage of enchanted cleaning equipment following her. They quickly set to work on the living room with a few flicks of the wand. A duster wafts over to the pair, purposefully dusting Enoch's nose on the way past. Odeda laughs as Enoch sneezes, making it nearly impossible for Alistair to read the paper. After a few more pages, barely read as the pages shake in his hands, the older man folds the paper up and puts it down. Once the brunet calms, his father's hand settles on the top of his head, fingers running absentmindedly through his curly hair.

"Your hair is getting long," notes the older man, getting a soft hum in response. A feeling of fingers grazing his head starts to lull Enoch into a state of almost-sleep. His eyes feel heavy again and he closes, feeling quite content.

Until his mother speaks up, "Enoch, I need you to grab some oranges for breakfast."

Enoch makes a big show of getting up with a huff, trudging outside like it's the most inconvenient thing in the world, the greatest injustice against him.

. . .

"He's late." Enoch comments as he once again lazes across the couch, staring at his parents. He has already formed a slight, irrational grudge against their dinner guest. Not only had he unwittingly forced the brunet out of his bed earlier than he'd liked, he has also forced Enoch to dress in the nicest clothes they could find in his cupboard. The nicest clothes happen to be the only dress shirt he owns and a neat pair of pants they found in the back of his cupboard, which are now slightly too small and look as though he's preparing for a flood.

"I hope you're not going to sulk through dinner." Odeda gives him a pointed look, which just makes the brunet huff. He has no chance to respond because there's a knock at the door, causing everyone to suddenly jump into action. Odeda rushes to the door, the rest of the family close behind.

Behind the door stands a bedraggled looking man, pleasant smile on his lips and a Tupperware container in his hands. He's dressed neatly, much like the rest of the family, but still manages to carry the appearance of someone who has just been dragged through a bush. Maybe it's the scars that decorate his face or the fact he looks absolutely exhausted and underfed. He's in luck, Enoch thinks; Odeda has been cooking all day just for this.

"Remus, so glad you came." Odeda breaks the silence, smiling warmly at her work friend. She gestures for him to come in, and the man obliges with little more promptly. As the door closes behind him, he offers the container to Odeda.

"It's not much but I made some salad."

"Oh, you didn't need to. But thank you." The you get woman smiles as she takes the container. Then she glances back at her husband and son, both still silently staring at Remus. "I believe some introductions are in order. Remus, this is my husband—Alistair—and my son—Enoch. Enoch, Al, this is Remus."

Hands are shaken. When Enoch shakes Remus's hand, which he purposefully (and riskily) left his gloves off for, he gets the full reading of the older man's emotions. They come in a jolt, a feeling of exhaustion, worry underlying the current relaxed mood he seems to be in. The brunet's eyes unconsciously grow a little wider as the next sensation flows over to him. Petrichor. The smell of the earth, right after rain, fills Enoch's nose. It's a hint of familiarity, though one he's only ever felt with Draco.

Then the contact is broken and the smell settles in with the background.

"So, how are you finding Hogwarts?" Enoch glances up from his food—a plate of vegetables greatly outnumbering the meat—when he realises he's being spoken to. Remus is looking at him expectantly as he cuts a mouthful of his food. The brunet gives a small shrug.

"I enjoy it. The food is better here though."

Remus chuckles softly, "That is true. House-elf cooking doesn't quite compare to this." Enoch nods. "What subjects are you taking?" Enoch quickly lists off his classes, getting small nods of approval here and there from the older male.

"Wish I could have taken classes like that when I was at school," mutters Alistair in a joking manner. He gets a few chuckles before attention returns to Enoch. He's asked what seems to be the natural progression of this conversation—how he finds them. Keeping his answer brief, he says they're good. For a few moments, the conversation ceases as everyone focuses on eating their meals. Enoch thinks the subject has been finished for good, hoping he doesn't have to be the centre of attention anymore. But his hopes are crushed when Remus pauses in between mouthfuls, looking to Enoch again.

"I taught Defense Against the Dark Arts there for a year. I'd like to think I did a good job at it." Enoch smiles politely and gives a small nod. He's not quite sure where this is going, but he's hoping it's an anecdote. He'd be content to just sit and listen to something that happened before he joined. "But, if you ever find yourself stuck or having difficulties, or even need a hand studying, I would be happy to help out. Though, your mother would be just as qualified for that."

"Nonsense, Remus, being an actual teacher is a far higher qualification." Enoch feels his ears heat up at the sudden, unprovoked moment of kindness. It's only amplified by the kindness that radiates from the man; the empath can't sense any ill-intentions or insincerity coming from him. Enoch had been sulking a little, about being put out without any warning, but this makes him feel a little better. 

Odeda smiles on the other side of the table, as she watches the small smile tug at her son's lips. Just as she had expected, Remus has won him over. She had told him to not be so worried.

"Let me give you a hand." Enoch looks up from the soapy water his hands are submerged in, cleaning the dishes from the evening. Remus is standing beside him, a small smile on his lips as he flicks his wand. In an instant, the dishes begin cleaning themselves, making much quicker work of it than the brunet had been. The younger stares at them for a second, before he begins to feel the guilt start to bubble up inside of him.

"You don't need to waste your magic on this. I can clean them." This gets a small chuckle from the older male.

"I'm not wasting my magic. It's perfectly fine."

"There's so many better things you could be using them on--"

"Enoch, please trust me when I say this is not wasting my magic. And, if it is, I'm happy to use it on getting chores done faster." As the brunet realises he's not going to win this argument, he huffs softly and wipes his soapy hands on the tea towel nearby. "Let's go join your parents in the living room. I believe Odeda mentioned something about cake."

.  .  .

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Odeda asks when Remus has left, looking at the two boys sprawled on the couch once again. She gets a murmur of agreement from them, though it's more of a distracted groan than anything. But then Enoch's head pops up as he looks at her, a thought clearly rolling around in his head.

"He smelt different."

"How so?" The older woman leans against the armchair.

"Petrichor. I've only ever smelt that with one other person." The brunet shuffles so he's sitting up, head poking up over the top of the couch. "Is there anything that'd make Remus different?"

Odeda is quiet for a moment, clearly considering something. "I'd prefer you don't go spreading it around but Remus is a werewolf. It's what caused him to lose his position as the DADA teacher, the news got out. But he's a very nice man, as I'm sure you realised." Enoch nods in agreement.

"I won't say anything. I promise."

"I know."

Enoch frowns softly to himself as he considers this. The concept of having met a real life werewolf is pretty cool, but he doesn't think it answers his question. Draco has never shown any signs that he is a werewolf.

Though, really, what even are the signs?

( AUTHOR'S NOTE )
I've been waiting for this chapter for a long time. It was harder than I expected, feels a lot less important than I made it in my head

But I've gotta stop saying I'll update soon because that seems to be when I jinx myself. To make up for the gap, have some FMVs I found earlier today that I really enjoy

https://youtu.be/Ad3o3v2fWLY

https://youtu.be/P1ia64BaIZU

https://youtu.be/6EvQq14JHHY

https://youtu.be/rEc1Lx10mkA

https://youtu.be/CoASUzABbnw

I'm going to stop here, or I might go even more overboard. There's just too many good ones, it's really easy to lose myself in them (I have, more than once today)