CHAPTER SEVEN
beneath the fireworks

                           𖦹 ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ˚⋆˚ 𖦹

  THE NIGHT IS CRISP AND COLD, hailing the end of '77 as gulls cry their final laments into the clouds above. Stars begin to poke their bleary heads out from beyond the cosmos, stretching and yawning as a long night lazes out before them. Critters scuttle along the coast, dipping in and out of the water to breathe in the final dregs of the year before another begins anew, clicking and clacking in an animalistic orchestra that hums against Cove's ears pleasantly. Remus is utterly clueless to the messages from the sea creatures, yet he feels like he can almost understand from the contented way her mouth curves up at the sunset soundscape.

   Cove and Remus had spent the final day of December by the sea. She led him outside that morning with the intention of introducing him to her friend, who in turn took one look at him and promptly refused to don two legs, sinking back beneath the wild blue currents. He told Cove to just go in without him — the combination of freezing temperatures and a selkie with a lethal glare had put him off of actually going for a swim, anyways, so he simply curled up next to the rock pools with a good book and hid himself away behind the thick layers of his winter clothes.

  Though, he didn't exactly get much reading done. His eyes were too busy following her. He's enraptured at how easily she sinks back into her transformations, a tiny bolt of jealousy flaring in his chest at the lingering sight of her so at home in her other form. He brushed it off as quickly as it sparked, yet the sentiment still dangled over his head like a guillotine.

  Regardless, Remus watched in awe as she glided across the waves, splashing flecks of water at him with her tail as her friend with the snowy coat clung to the safety of the shallows, her big black eyes narrowed in accusation. He doesn't think that he's ever felt so intimidated by a seal before — well, excluding Cove. The fear that you experience when she's cross with you over anything, big or small, is visceral.

   He's hoisted out of his daydream at the sight of Cove approaching him. She wrings her hair out onto the cold sand, shrugging a woolly jumper over her dress as she slips her sealskin back to the bottom her satchel. She makes quick work of tying her bootlaces, the seashell patterns on her fluffy socks poking out from behind the wrinkled leather. Cove turns to him fully, pausing when she spots the strange look on his face.

   Remus squints slightly, taking in the familiar pattern of her jumper. "Is that mine?"

   Cove freezes. "...No?" she says slowly.

He raises his eyebrows. "Cove," he drawls.

   She sighs. Cove lifts her hands up in surrender, moving them to tug at the neck and pull it over her head when he rushes to stop her. His cheeks colour a violent pink at the look of surprise he's met with, clearing his throat sheepishly and smoothing the fabric on her shoulders.

   "It's fine," he says in a small voice, eyes pinned to the ground. "Keep it. You wear it better than I do, anyways."

Cove raises her eyebrows but she doesn't say anything mocking, intertwining their fingers and beginning to walk away. "Alright. So, do I get to know what the surprise is, yet?"

   "No," he says with a smile coating his voice. He stumbles over the dunes slightly as he's pulled, brushing past his mild embarrassment to fall into step with her. "That's why it's a surprise, lovely."

   "Riiiight." She pauses, the gentle waves behind them filling in the blanks. "So, you're confident that you know where we're going without getting us lost?"

   "Ah. That," Remus mutters thoughtfully. "Yeah, not really. I'm sure I'll figure something out."

   She sends him an unimpressed glance over her shoulder. Her nagging desire to know where they're going begins to sink its teeth in deep — Cordelia has always told her that she's far too impatient to enjoy surprises. She hates it when Cordy's right about these things.

Cove squeezes his hand and spins round to face him, pulling them both to an abrupt halt. "Oh, come on, Rem. Do I at least get to know where we're heading? I'd rather not call the mountain rescue team away from singing Auld Lang Syne tonight."

  "Oh, har har. You're hilarious," he replies dryly.

"You love it."

He purses his lips, eyeing her thoughtfully. "Alright, fine. We're heading back into town for a bit."

  "Well, that wasn't too hard, was it?" she says it teasingly, but she could practically jump for joy. Hours of incessant prying paid off after all. Her eyes drift away in speculation, practically glowing under the moonlight as she racks her brains. "Hm... what could we be doing in town..."

  "Hey, don't try and ruin the surprise any more! I've already told you too much."

  "Okay, okay. Sorry."

He just waves her apology away, leaning down to peck her on the cheek. Laughing at the blush that curls across her cheeks, a gentle red under the moon's pearly glow, Remus begins to drag her through the withered marram grass as it lolls in the nighttime breeze.

  "This way!" he says confidently.

   She points to the sign scribbled in Gaelic, suppressing a grin. "The village is the other direction."

   "I, uh, knew that. I was testing if you were paying attention."

   "Mhm. I'll believe you, thousands wouldn't."

   "Please," he scoffs. "I never get lost."

   She rolls her eyes, muttering something about his Pisces placements. "Do you, aye?"

   He huffs a laugh through his nose and begins down the road, fingers looped around her own as the frost nuzzles into their flesh. An owl coos into the dark and the golden haze of civilisation dawns on the horizon, cresting the hills and casting molten flecks of light across the snowy landscape. She holds him tight so that he doesn't slip on the black ice in his path that he's not paying any mind to, half listening to his chatting as the ground grows more uneven.

  They surmount hills, tread forestry trails, pass by sleepy sheep farms. The journey feels shorter than it did on Remus' first wander up to her beach, the steady downhill slopes making it ten times easier to navigate the winding roads, even if there aren't any street lamps to guide them yet. The radiant light of the gibbous moon is their only beacon, leaving him with a stabbing feeling of worry twisting like a blade into his sternum. The moon never fails to make him feel uneasy.

Warmth ebbs through his chest at the way her eyes light up when their destination comes into view. In the distance, they can make out that dozens of little stalls are lined up across the faraway cobbles of the main street, frost spreading across the glass of shop windows as everyone gathers outside in the cold. Laughter and chatter keeps their spirits alight where the weather cannot. Cove turns to face him properly, teetering between pausing for a few seconds to let it all sink in and running down the hill to bask in the Christmas market she hadn't been to in several years. She steadies herself with a deep inhale.

"The market?" she wonders out loud, her excitement poorly veiled.

"Well, that's not the entire surprise."

Cove chuckles to herself. "Gods, were you always this cryptic?"

"You love it."

"Stop quoting me."

"You started it."

   She nudges him. "Now I'm finishing it. Are we gonna go into the village, or do you feel like standing here all night having a blether?"

   Remus takes a breath, teeth chattering slightly as he grins. Instead of answering with his words, he tugs her forward into the direction of the labyrinthine crowd, immersing and effectively losing themselves in the festivities.

°•.•°•.•°•.•°

  THE TOWN IS GLITTERING WITH undiluted life, the street lamps alight with dancing flames as the leftover Christmas lights sparkle up on the facades of shops. The air is rich with the smell of coffee, tea and hot chocolate, as well as a multitude of different sweet things from the stall set up outside the local bakery. Remus relaxes into the atmosphere easier than he thought he would've, relishing in all the different aspects of the unknown village around him. In his opinion, it almost looks as though the hazy moon is dulled by everything that shines in the crowd, the glow of the tightly knit community purer than starlight. Remus doesn't think that he's seen anything quite like it before.

  Everyone seems to recognise Cove, sending her greetings and chatting idly to her as they go past. Remus feels a tad awkward under all the attention, an insect under a magnifying glass, so he's eternally grateful for her comforting hand pressing into his palm. It's when they've stopped to look at a jewellery stand, Cove allowing her free fingertips to gently glide over an aquamarine wire necklace, that a sage voice drifts into their ears.

"Cove Henderson?"

  She turns in surprise. The woman stood behind them, stocky and grey, only acts as a catalyst for Cove's radiating happiness. The stranger unfurls a gloved palm from her tacky handbag and reaches out to grasp onto the one Cove had outstretched, murmuring something that Remus couldn't quite catch. It takes him a solid minute to realise that they're speaking to one another in conversational Gaelic.

"Halò! Ciamar a tha sibh, Mrs Hughes?"

  "Och, Cove, tha gu math," the woman, Mrs Hughes, replies sweetly with her thin scarlet lips pressed into a smile. "Tha thu a' coimhead brèagha, mo luaidh."

  Cove laughs at that. "Tapadh leibh."

  Mrs Hughes turns her eye to Remus, an inquisitive air about her. After taking one sweeping glance over him, she promptly slips back into English so that he can understand. He looks down at himself self-consciously for a split second; does he really look like he doesn't belong that much? Is it noticeable? His chest constricts slightly when he's brought back to earth by Cove's hand squeezing his, zeroing back in on the conversation at hand.

  "Who's your man, here?" Mrs Hughes asks. "Is he fae that fancy school of yours, hen?"

  She flashes her sea green eyes in his direction. "Aye, he is," Cove replies, that habitual bashfulness he knows so well tainting her demeanour. It's like she's slunk back into her shell slightly after finally relaxing all the walls she builds up at Hogwarts, her anxiety shattering the casual way she had been sauntering through her home town before.

  Her eyebrows quirk. "English?"

  "Welsh," he answers for himself, voice crackling like a bonfire from lack of use.

  Her eyes crinkle. "Well, young man, I hope you know how nicely you suit each other. You make a lovely couple, so you do."

"Thank you," Remus says sincerely, grinning at how flustered his girlfriend is. "Mrs Hughes, was it? I'm Remus."

  She nods curtly. "Where in Wales are you from, pet?"

"Oh, a small town just outside of Swansea. Have you ever been?"

   "Hm... not Swansea, but I'm sure I went to Cardiff when I was a wee girl, if I'm remembering correctly. Long while ago now, 'suppose." Her laugh is weathered, collecting in the air as a puff of white mist. She swivels her head to address Cove. "Now, I won't keep you for any longer. Give your da my best. Happy New Year to yous!"

  "Happy New Year," he replies kindly.

  "Oidhche mhath, Mrs Hughes."

  "Tìoraidh, mo luaidh." She squeezes Cove's arm one last time, inclining her head to Remus. "Enjoy your evening, son."

   She shuffles off into the other direction, leaving the couple to stand in front of the jewellery stall, one of them more perplexed than the other. He tries to catch her eye, only to find out that she's gone back to staring down at the gemstones and metal before them. With a look about her like a magpie eyeing up something shiny, Cove sighs to herself and retracts her hand from the necklace that she'd been inspecting. Remus notes it silently before they delve back into the crowd.

   "Who was that?" he asks, his interest poking through brazenly.

  She's snapped out of a stupor, the daydream leaving her a bit disoriented, shaking her head to find her bearings. "Oh, Mrs Hughes used to child mind me when I was a wean, since my dad was out at sea for his work more often than not. Lovely woman. Her grandson owns the record shop down the road, you know."

  "That's nice," Remus says. His mouth runs faster than his brain, the next words slipping out before he can register what he's really saying. "What about your mum?"

  Cove's shoulders stiffen. "What about her?"

The question lies unspoken between them. Where was she? Why was she not there?

  "I—" He stops short. His hand squeezes hers in an attempt to relax her nerves. It doesn't work. "Nevermind. Just a silly question."

  He feels that awkwardness is rife and decides that it'd be best to try and divert the conversation onto something entirely different, thinking hard until his brain is bordering on a migraine. They sail past a group of children weaving through the crowd, playing with new presents courtesy of Christmas as youth glimmers in their hearts. He hears one of them cry out 'fuirich rium!' and another question finally springs to mind. It's undeniable that his curiosity is peaked tonight, though Remus can only hope that all his questions aren't bothering Cove too much.

  "So, er, does everyone here speak Gaelic?" Remus asks.

   Cove shakes her head. "It's a dying language — sort of like Welsh, but with even less speakers. Fewer people are speaking it out here in the islands and people on the mainland hardly even speak it at all."

He frowns. "That's rubbish," he mutters. "It's a pretty language."

She hums. "You think?"

"I like hearing you speak it," he admits quietly. "Makes it all the better."

Cove giggles. "You're just saying that."

He shrugs as they come to a stop before the stall serving hot drinks. Remus peers down at his grandfather's watch as Cove fishes a tenner out of her bag and hands it over to the man behind the till, shuffling the change into her pocket and waiting patiently for their drinks. His patience is pulled taut as the small hand ticks forward — it's nearly midnight.

  "Y'alright, Rem?" she wonders, a knot between her brows as she searches his face.

  "Yeah," he answers a little too quickly. "Stellar."

  Cove snorts. "Whatever you say. You're just looking a wee bit impatient there." She hands his coffee over, black as the night sky, and swivels about the hot chocolate in her own as the fluffy pink marshmallows begin to melt into the cream.

  "Just checking something," he answers. "C'mon, I need to show you something."

  Cove's pliant enough, her intrigue urging her to follow after him. He leads her through the final dregs of the crowd until they're out in the open air once more, the cold nipping at the rosy skin on their faces. They keep going until grass crunches beneath their boots and their legs are tired from the incline, collapsing at the top of a steep hill that overlooks the village. The buzz of civilisation rests just down the ledge, yet Cove doesn't think that she'd rather be anywhere but there in that minute.

  He steps ahead to stand in front of her, arms spread wide as he utters a proud, "Ta da!"

  A tartan blanket is sprawled out at their feet, overlooking the pretty hillside views, the corners stapled down to the cold ground by lanterns with lit tea lights inside them. There's a smattering of paper plates across the surface of the blanket, each dotted with little cakes and sweets that he knows are her favourite. She shrugs her satchel off to the side of the fabric, looking up to her Remus in utter disbelief.

  "Rán's net, when did you have time to do all this?"

  "Oh, I have my ways." he says secretively.

  Cove side eyes him. "Now I'm scared to ask more. You've been extremely dodgy all night, y'know."

  He waves his hands like a madman for emphasis. "I was trying to keep the suspense."

  "For a picnic?"

  "For the surprise."

  Cove laughs at that. "Gods. I'll be sick of surprises after tonight, Lupin."

  "Well then, maybe your resolution for next year should be to expect more of them."

  "Is that a threat?"

  "More of a promise."

  She shakes her head, committing his side profile to memory as he rustles about on the blanket next to her, relaxing onto the ground beside her despite the nipping cold. She studies him the way a sculptor studies their muse. The little bump on the bridge of his nose that she thinks is borderline regal, even if he's insecure about it; the ruby glow of his scars in their dim surroundings. The corners of his lips upturn, stretching all the piercings and imperfections on his face that she's ever so fond of.

  "What?" he asks, smile quickly dropping. "Is there something on my face?"

  She shakes her head, warding off his fears. "No, I just— Thank you, Remus," Cove whispers, as if raising her voice half a decibel will shatter their serenity. "This is lovely."

  Remus dismisses it sheepishly. "Don't be silly. It's the least I could do."

  He lies back, bones crackling with every movement until he's flat on the ground, watching the stars intently. Her head tilts with intrigue as his eyes flutter closed, unfairly long lashes grazing his cheekbones.

  She sips her hot chocolate, looking around as her suspicion broadens. "So, what exactly are we doing all the way up here?"

  Lazily cranking one eye open, he checks his watch again.

  "Give it a minute..."

  Cove shuts up, leaning back onto her elbows to match his laidback posture. He's right — she only has to wait a minute, if even that long. A tiny gasp flutters from her when she notices what he had been building up to all evening, her palm covering her grin.

  The fireworks are breathtaking. A flaming array of carnelian, scarlet and turquoise bursts across the black canvas overhead, painting the night sky a stunning portrait of pointillism that hardly compares to the finest oil paintings in the galleries around the world. Her eyes trace every little explosion with childlike wonder, laughing slightly as the colours dance and wheel around the sky, sustaining the spectacle before they can fizzle out and subject the world to darkness once again.

  Cove turns to him in awe. "I've never seen them set up a fireworks display for New Year," she breathes. "It's amazing."

  Remus tries to act casual. "Someone might have given them a bit of extra inspiration this year," he says knowingly.

  She beams, melting into his side as the cold finally begins to bite at her through her clothes. He wraps an arm around her securely, the side of his head resting atop the crown of hers as they get lost in the colours spraying above their heads, cacophony disrupting stillness as one year verges into the next.

   Their worries dissipate for the night. At least for now, it's just the two of them, residing in safety beneath the fireworks. 

author's note!

happy new year!!!! (it's june)

cheesy chapter idc idc they're my babies 😾 maybe this surprise was rlly lacklustre but i was drawing a blank on what it could be so this is the best ur getting from me lol

i'm in a summery mood because i'm off for my summer holidays so i'm trying to speed through these chapters and get onto summertime for cove and remus! which also means it's closer to wartime... 👀

but by the time i've even gotten past their graduation it'll probs be cold and miserable again lmao

if there's one thing i'm notorious for it's not sticking to the update schedule i set for myself (i'm my biggest opp atm) and i'm going abroad to france for a week, so i probs won't have as much time to write for a wee while, but i'll be back soon enough

take care my loves 🫶🏻 i hope you enjoyed