Over The Moony
THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE.
Future chapters will be posted to @verbosevirgo
Gemma Loland, a natural-born Legilimens, is a seventh year at Hogwarts. Is her crush on Professor Lupin mutual, or is she simply imagining things?
Set during Prisoner of Azkaban.
**Reader always assumed to be of age**
Warnings: language, angst.
Chapter 1
There was an annual rumor whispered around Hogwarts that the professors snuck firewhisky into their goblets at the Christmas feast. And tonight, judging by Hagrid’s crimson dusted cheeks and Trelawney’s laughter pealing through the uncharacteristically empty Great Hall, I surmised these so-called “rumors” to be anything but.
I picked at the overflowing holiday spread in front of me, feigning interest in whatever the eternally talkative Veronica Krane was on about this time.
Veronica was an odd, eager girl often found trailing behind various Ravenclaw cliques, inserting herself into discussions she was not a part of. None of us had the heart to tell her to sod off, despite the collective agreement that she was dreadfully annoying. Unfortunately for me, once she’d discovered I too was staying at school over Christmas, she leeched right onto me. And while she seemed quite keen at the prospect of spending all this quality time together, she hadn’t stopped nattering since the start of the holiday – it was doing my bloody head in.
“You have to admit, it doesn’t feel quite as Christmassy with the Dementors out there, does it? Gives me the creeps.” Veronica shuddered visibly. “I’m beyond gutted to be missing Christmas at home this year! My parents were married on Christmas Eve; isn’t that romantic? But Mum says she and Dad wanted to spend their 15th anniversary alone this year, without me! Their own daughter! I can’t imagine why!”
I can. I’d been mentally skewering Veronica’s every word for the entirety of this feast; thankfully, she wasn’t any sort of Legilimens.
However, unbeknownst to her and the whole of Hogwarts, I was.
My late mother, a wonderfully skilled Legilimens, unintentionally passed her gift down to me when I was born. From the time I could speak, she educated me on how to rein in my gift, reminding me that invading the private thoughts of others would not make me many friends. So as she taught me, I held tight onto my Legilimency in secret. I hardly ever used it, save for a handful of times in my life.
Veronica sighed, still carrying on conversation with herself. “No matter! At least I have you here with me! I know you must understand how I’m feeling right now, being forced to stay at school over Christmas!”
“Yes, I really do.” I offered apathetically, nodding.
I really didn’t. Despite the tale I’d concocted for my nosy classmates, my father was not on a work trip in Barcelona, and his apparently busy job did not make it “impossible to spend Christmas with him”.
My father was actually a bit of a recluse who loathed leaving home, let alone travelling. In reality, dear old dad would be hosting Christmas for Aunt Liesel and my bratty cousins around the tattered fireplace of my childhood home. For the first time in my life, I’d lied to my sweet father. I dreamt up an elaborate story about desiring to “spend my seventh and final Hogwarts Christmas in the castle with my friends.”
I almost felt guilty about it… Almost.
Truthfully, my desire to remain at Hogwarts had nothing to do with my father, and everything to do with my unhealthy infatuation with my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin.
From the first day of term, a quiet attraction toward him blossomed within me; I was immediately smitten by his intelligent wit and unique handsomeness. I began lingering after lessons under the guise of having questions regarding assignments, and by November, our conversations morphed to include friendly small talk. I always struggled to concentrate whenever he was teaching, particularly once he started appearing in my dreams every night. Our after-class exchanges helped none, growing longer and more playful each time.
In the beginning, I simply regarded myself as another pitiful student mad about her professor; it was a tale as old as time. Though, as the term passed, I occasionally noticed more intriguing behavior on his part…
For instance, when he would crack a joke during a lesson, I swore I’d catch him shooting a glance in my direction. In fact, I sometimes sensed his eyes on me whenever I was talking with friends or scribbling on parchment. It was the most bizarre, exhilarating feeling, but one that I questioned often.
I must have been imagining things; there was no way he had any interest in me…right? He’s my professor, for fuck’s sake.
And yet, this only made me desire him more.
……
Mere weeks before Christmas, the first snow of winter settled delicately upon the turrets of the castle. Professor Lupin excused our seventh-year class, wishing us all a pleasant weekend. He stood coolly behind his desk, exchanging goodbyes with the students shuffling out the door.
I packed my bookbag at a painstakingly slow pace, wishing my classmates would hurry their arses up and leave us alone. I mentioned to my friend Charlotte that she need not wait for me, as I required help with our upcoming essay. She rolled her eyes knowingly; she frequently insisted I must fancy Lupin— a claim I always denied.
But of course, she was right. I pathetically yearned for another private conversation with him.
As the final stragglers trickled out, I approached the front of the classroom, buzzing with nervous anticipation.
A fond smirk formed in the corner of his mouth. A smirk that instantly weakened my false confidence. “Ah. Miss Loland.”
I stopped at his desk, feigning composure. “Professor.”
“Come to pick my brain once more?”
“I fear I have.” I coyly answered, beaming through my gently flushed cheeks. I retrieved my paper from my bag, handing it to him. “I had hoped you could read over the first draft of my essay. I apologize; it’s a bit rough.”
Lupin reached for the parchment, sending me an incredulous look. “…Miss Loland. This assignment is not due for several weeks — not until well after the holiday break.”
“I suppose I simply wanted to get a head start…” I replied sheepishly.
He scanned my paper with a soft chuckle. “I must admit, I am always quite impressed with your work ethic.”
I nearly blushed at the compliment. “Thank you, sir.”
Honestly, I had never been more than an average student until this school year began. Funny how being wildly attracted to your professor can do wonders for your study habits.
Lupin set it on his desk and tapped it with his large hand. I tried not to stare at his thick fingers too obviously.
“Well, I will give this a good read over the weekend and hand it back to you on Monday. With very few corrections, I am sure.”
I fiddled with the strap of my bag, smiling. “I’d really appreciate it.”
“Of course. But, only on one condition...” He began circling around the desk, his hands finding their place in his pockets.
I begged my increasingly pounding heart to stay quiet. “Yes?”
“Take a break over the holiday. Dare I say, have a bit of fun?”
Leaning back against his desk, he folded his arms with a grin. His subtle cologne greeted me, killing me ever-so-softly.
I giggled shyly. “I shall try. Unfortunately, my young cousins visit for Christmas. It can be slightly chaotic.”
“On the contrary. Sounds like quite an enjoyable time,” he interjected teasingly.
“Yes, loads. I’ll be sure to schedule a bit of fun, right between the screaming tantrums.”
Lupin laughed graciously. “You know, you joke, but I would love to spend Christmas with my family this year.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Please, no harm done.” His arms extended to either side of him, supporting his stance as he leaned back on the desk. “Actually, Professor McGonagall asked if I would mind terribly to remain at Hogwarts this Christmas. And I fear that even now as a colleague, I still do not bear the strength to disappoint her.
“I see.” I looked down at my dainty oxfords, unaware of how to respond. “…The castle is quite beautiful for Christmas. I’m sure it will be lovely.”
Lupin smirked skeptically. “Undoubtedly.”
He paused, weakly shaking his head. “I must say, while I am doomed to my lonely holiday, I am well chuffed to have a quiet moment with my Christmas tea.”
I gulped at the prospect of Lupin up in his quarters, the castle virtually empty…
“I just hate to imagine you alone on Christmas.” I offered concernedly, immediately regretting it. Could I be any more fucking obvious?
He appeared to fight off a smile. “Oh, come now. You need not worry about me; I’m rather accustomed to spending time on my own.”
I nodded, praying he didn’t notice the pink infecting my pathetic face.
“Of course,” he murmured, “I would not mind having some company.” “Perhaps you will? I imagine Professor Snape would be delighted.” My impish confidence was a well-rehearsed act, an armor I donned to mask my secret desire for him.
Lupin tittered inwardly, folding his arms once again. “A wonderful idea. I’ll be sure to extend an invitation.”
I bit my lip, silently screaming at the simple ecstasy of him laughing at my joke. “Well, I look forward to hearing about it.”
“Certainly,” he said, “you shall be the first person I tell.”
……
So there I was, happily stranded at Hogwarts for Christmas after crafting the perfect lie, hoping for an opportunity to get Remus Lupin truly alone.
That encounter in the classroom endlessly haunted me for the three weeks that followed. I lied awake in bed, meticulously peeling apart every word, every glance... I desperately wondered if our connection only existed within my mind.
Each interaction with him tempted me slightly more than the last, begging me to employ my Legilimency. While I knew better than to exploit my gift in that way… I feared I may no longer bear the strength to resist.
I would only need a second—just a momentary glimpse into his head—and he’d be none the wiser! I knew I could slip in completely undetected; nobody had ever sensed my glimpses before.
But, the real question was... did I dare?
As Veronica continued to blabber on, I subtly peeked at Lupin again. He was standing now, next to where Trelawney still sat. He chuckled with her, seemingly enjoying his ongoing conversation more than I was enjoying mine. His mustache twitched into the most adorable grin… how I longed to feel it graze along my neck, brushing against my ear, whispering filthy words…
In a beautiful instant, his gaze collided with mine, and an intense thrum echoed throughout my entire body. He furrowed his brows at me while still wearing his grin, signifying his surprise to see me. I returned the smile, then casually turned back to Veronica as if I was not internally squealing at his acknowledgment
She must have noticed, because she quickly abandoned whatever she had been previously yapping about.
“Do you like him?”
Those words hit me like a bludger to the gut.
“Who?” I plainly responded, feigning nonchalance.
“Professor Lupin.” She commented, peering at the High Table. “He’s my favorite professor in the whole school.”
I watched her size him up, fighting to swallow my jealousy. “…Yeah, I guess. His lessons are always interesting.”
“He’s quite fit, too. Don’t you think?” She scrunched her splotchy nose, giggling.
I suddenly wished to reach across the jolly stacks of mince pie between us and gouge out her stupid eyes. I cleared my throat to disguise my growing rage.
“Uhm, I suppose. I’ve never really thought about it.”
Veronica shrugged, taking a bite of trifle. After a few seconds of silence, she burst out again. “So! Are you still dating that bloke Callum?”
She was referring to my extremely toxic, on-again off-again relationship with Callum Dorsey, a Slytherin tosser intent on ruining my life since fourth year. I hadn’t spoken to him since August, when we broke up for the third and (hopefully final) time.
I scoffed, secretly relieved the topic was changing. “Goodness, no. That’s ancient history.”
Her annoying lips tugged up, intrigued by fresh gossip. “Oh! I wondered why I hadn’t seen you two together recently! ‘Splains a lot. Y’know, he looks a bit like Finbar Quigley! Don’t you think?”
I could scarcely focus on Veronica’s blabbering as I realized Lupin was bidding farewell to the other professors, departing for the night. With that, my heartbeat stumbled excitedly over itself. “W-Wait. Who?”
“Finbar Quigley! The beater from the Ballycastle Bats, silly!”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I quietly adjusted my skirt under the table, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Thankfully, she was already launching into another one of her classic Veronica tangents.
I noticed Lupin stepping down from the High Table just within the edge of my vision. I desperately craved some contact with him; even bidding him goodnight would temporarily satisfy that. A handful of students tossed Christmas greetings his way as he strode past, and he politely returned the response.
I instantaneously feigned great interest in Veronica’s never-ending tales. I even tossed in a laugh or two, aware of the fact that I was now in Lupin’s line of sight. I wasn’t sure what she was on about now, but I engaged, regardless.
“—so I think he’s definitely the fittest chaser Ireland has ever had!”
“I don’t know about that.” I pretended not to detect Lupin approaching, attempting a secretive, calming breath. Relax.
“Well then, who would you say—” Veronica’s attention was caught by his presence at my immediate left. “Oh, Merry Christmas, Professor!”
“Merry Christmas, Miss Krane. Miss Loland.” Lupin’s normally professional tone carried a calm, more casual manner. I presumed the alleged fire whiskey to be responsible.
I turned my gaze to him, grinning ever-so-slightly. “Merry Christmas, Professor.”
As soon as his eyes met mine, a flight of butterflies erupted within me. He stood, hands shoved in pockets, in a slightly worn, all-black ensemble I’d never seen him wear. His hair haphazardly brushed across his forehead, as if he had rustled his hands through it after the buzz of firewhisky overcame him. He looked unbelievably sexy.
“I hadn’t expected to see you here. What happened to Christmas surrounded by cousins?” He remembered!!!
“Change of plans. My father got called to Barcelona for business.”
“Over Christmas? What awful timing.”
“It’s alright. At least Veronica is here too...” I gestured in her direction.
Lupin nodded, seemingly battling a laugh. “I see that. How lovely.” He was well aware of how unbearably irritating Veronica could be—constantly interrupting his lectures with a tedious anecdote every few minutes. Most professors asked her to save her remarks until the end, but kind-hearted Lupin often humored her.
“My parents are celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary! They wanted to spend Christmas just the two of them!” She chirped in response, obviously thrilled to have his attention. “I really wanted to be home for Christmas. But I sure am glad to have a friend here!”
He and I shared a knowing glance. “Ah, lucky you. Miss Loland is quite good company.”
Was he...flirting with me? No, I must be doing it again: misinterpreting his blinding charm as flirtation.
“Speaking of company! You must be looking forward to tea with Professor Snape tonight.” I quipped, playfully.
Lupin chuckled, hands still in pockets. “Alas, he will not be attending. It will just be me and my tea this evening.”
“What a shame! I’m sure the two of you would’ve had a merry old time.”
I adored sharing this private joke with him, as envious confusion practically seeped out of Veronica’s pores.
“Certainly.” he agreed, albeit sarcastically. Lupin suddenly noticed the library book I’d strategically placed next to me on the table (in hopes of catching his attention, of course).
“…Now, wait a moment. Surely, you haven’t spent Christmas with your nose buried in that book.”
I smiled. “Surely not. I finished it earlier.”
He quirked a brow. “If I remember correctly, you were going to try and take a breather from your schoolwork over holiday?”
“…I don’t recall.” I responded, smirking.
He snickered. “Tell me, Veronica, has she been reading all day?”
Veronica blinked through her bewilderment, glittering at the opportunity to rejoin the conversation. “Yes, a bit.”
She wasn’t wrong. I spent most of my Christmas draped on a plush couch in the Ravenclaw common room, engulfed in the pages of Women of Phyllomancy. And while Phyllomancy had always fascinated me, I’d really only been reading to avoid Veronica.
Lupin shook his head teasingly. “Would it truly be the end of the world to have a bit of fun?”
“It may. There’s little fun worth having around here.”
“Oh, come now. That can’t be true.”
Veronica leapt into action, interjecting at once. “Really? I find there’s so much to do around the castle! You don’t even enjoy watching Quidditch?”
Her incessant chatter barely registered. The air between Lupin and me crackled, every glance and line of banter charged with palpable tension.
“-- I quite enjoy Gobstones Club! We have loads of fun! Shall I ask Fenwick if you could join? I can, if you want!”
An unrelenting current of confidence washed over me. Before I could reconsider, words toppled out of my mouth.
“No, the only things I want are off limits.” I said coyly, my eyes locked on his.
Oh fuck! Did I really just say that?!
Lupin sharply cleared his throat, almost as though my statement knocked the breath clear out of him. Holy...hell. Had I flustered him?!
Thankfully, Veronica, socially inept as ever, remained blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation.
“Off limits? Like the restricted section of the library?”
“No, not quite,” I answered cooly, ever the performer around Lupin. I felt insurmountable nerves bubbling just beneath the surface of my poised façade.
Lupin averted his gaze to his now shuffling feet. “I hadn’t presumed you to be the rule-breaking type.”
My pulse flickered down to my fingertips; under the table, I twisted my hands into my skirt. “Perhaps I’m just that good at it, that no one has any idea?”
Quiet amusement played at the corners of his perfect mouth. “Well, in that case, ladies, try not to get into too much trouble tonight.”
“No, no! Not to worry!” Veronica squawked, chortling.
On any other day, I’d be plotting to seal her oversized mouth with a Silencing Charm, but as his glance carried from Veronica to me, I was too busy melting.
"Especially you, Ms. Loland." He muttered, raising his eyebrows slightly.
Oh shit. Oh shit.
“No promises, sir.” I spoke just above a whisper. My stare lingered on his as he finally turned to leave.
Once he was out of earshot, Veronica nearly ruptured. “Come on, Gemma! You don’t even find him a bit attractive?”
Silent exhilaration pierced through my bones; my second skin of perfect composure was beginning to splinter.
“He’s...alright, I suppose?"
While Veronica ogled him over my shoulder, I resisted taking one final look as he exited the Great Hall behind me.
“You must be mental! He is too perfect!” She whined, sighing dreamily.
For once, I agreed with Veronica.
As she spiraled off into a speech about who the fuck cares, I reveled in the most untouchable high.
Everything had suddenly changed. The persisting questions, constantly and endlessly swirling in my head, had finally ceased.
Only one thought remained, echoing through me with complete and utter certainty —
My night would end in his room.
After all, I’d already told him: I was more than willing to break the rules.