Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, home of ex lovers y/n l/n and remus lupin who suck at the "ex" part
Or, in which,
Everyone in hogwarts is convinced that the two of you are (still) inlove with eachother
GENRE: Fluff, slight crack fic? Second chance romance + idiots in love
PAIRING: Professor! Remus lupin x Professor! Reader
FEAT: Hermione Granger (no 1 shipper), severus snape (the most lowkey shipper), Dumbledore (the most highkey shipper), Harry potter (the most confused person in the room), ron weasly (himbo king) minerva McGonagall(da legend)
A/N: probably the longest fic I ever wrote :p. pls do reblog!!!
Surprisingly unlike most new teachers in hogwarts who often drop the school after their first year of teaching, you somehow managed to stick around
(rumours say that ever since professor slughorn, the previous potions teacher left hogwarts and snape began teaching, all teaching positions were cursed and no teacher managed to stay in hogwarts for more than one semester)
(all students believe that snape brought the curse along with his greasy hair when he began teaching in hogwarts)
(good thing you were quite good in handling curses and hexes ;>)
Perhaps because you also used to be a student in hogwarts back in the days of your youth, you knew the will of the ever changing staircases and the ways through all the hidden and not so hidden corridors
All hogwarts students were baffled when they found out that you and their professor snape used to be classmates
They could all swear on merlin's beard that they were all very sure that professor snape and professor McGonagall were of the same age!!
("bloody hell! who would have thought that nasty professor snape and our lovely miss l/n used to sit in the same classes together" -ron weasly, merely 5 seconds before getting bonked in the head by professor snape)
It's was no secret that all the students of hogwarts adored you, regardless of which house they belonged too, you had a way of weasling into even the most frigid of hearts
But nevertheless, the students often wondered about your kind and sweet nature towards them, truthfully you couldn't help but be reminded of your days in hogwarts and ofcourse your dear friends, some of whose children's were now attending the school
After all, not many of your friends were still present to this day, not many of them found their so called happy ending, and yet their children still manage to find a way to smile
You wanted to protect that smile. The very same smile that used to be etched in your friends faces
It did make you feel a little old sometimes though, who knew even the snooty lucius malfoy, your senior of 4 years at hogwarts would find love and have kids
And yet here you were, still single as a Pringle, your last relationship was years ago, your last real relationship was... it was actually when you used to study in hogwarts, but that too was ages ago
You had simply given up. You had better things to do other than reminisce about your past, the past that never managed to manifested into your future
You had a lot more important things to do!
Such as conduct a quick checking in all the compartments of the hogwarts express, just to make sure that all the students are acquainted and to check up on any first years who may be facing any problems
You walk along the train, knocking on the compartments before being graced with cheerfull greetings and questions on how your holidays was
You move on to the next apartment and the next without wasting much time, much wanting to sit quietly in your own compartment as soon as possible until you heard a loud cry of terror
"Dementor! Dementor!"
You immediately rush down the train, running as fast as you could while your fingers grasped you wand tightly
Crap! You totally forgot about the new security regime being added to hogwarts
Dumbledore had written to you about it during the semester break, although you didn't quite share a positive sentiment towards the addition you also didnt really have much of a say on it
By the time you reach the compartment your relieved that damage control has already been done by who seems to be a new professor whose face was turned away, only seeing the back of his head showcasing messy light brown hair which you felt was oddly familiar
"Harry! Are you alright?" You kneel down as you try propping the boy up whose mouth was currently being shoved with chocolate
"The chocolate helps, I swear" the man says before he pauses and takes a quick deep breath
You almost take a double take, staring into the eyes of a stranger who you knew a little too well
"Y/n" remus lupin breaths out your name like its air, so naturally that you almost forget about all the missing years between the two of you
He says it so naturally that it makes you feel like he just said it yesterday, you almost don't find his face foreign as if the two of you never went your separate ways
As if the two of you never left eachother
You stiffen, you can't help it, infront of you is probably the only man you've ever loved in the entirety of your life, the very man who couldn't stay with you, the man who left you,
the very same man still looked at you the same way, as if you were as beautiful as the day he found you, as if you were as beautiful as the day he left.
"Remus" you mutter out, your eyes glued to his
there's a silent battle going on, one that only perhaps the two of you could recognise. A inner turmoil in both of your hearts
Do I love or hate the fact that you're here?
Do i embrace you or curse you're for standing infront of me?
Do you still think about me?
Did you ever think of me?
"Wh-what are you doing here?" You break away from the trance first "why are you here?"
You only halfway realise how harsh it sounds but you don't care, you didnt know whether to care, you didnt know what to feel
"Lovely seeing you too y/n, you look the same like the last time I saw you"
He says it in such a way only remus lupin could say, with so much sincerety and integrity, it makes your mouth go silent
"I heard that you were a teacher in hogwarts" he pauses "it suits you, i remember you talking about it"
Ofcourse he remembers you talking about it, you remember it too. You also remember him saying the exact same thing as he did years ago too
"It suits you"
"Thanks" you don't know how to respond, with remus lupin you never really did
"But then again, i suppose whatever you did would suit you"
The same thing again, you swear it's like he never left
"You didn't change at all" you blurt out without thinking much
Remus chuckles, an awkward warm laugh, shaking his head slightly so that his slightly curls would bounce
"I dont know whether you mean it as a compliment or not"
"You know what I mean" you say again without much of a hesitation, you catch the look in remus's eye
"I do, don't I?"
Your breath hitches, again
"Uhm professor? I mean professors?" Hermione interrupts with a slightly confused face which she tries to mask
At least she's trying to hide her confusion, the other two boys in the compartment looked as if though someone told them that Monstrose Maggie's were a better quidditch team than Holyhead Harpies
Ron especially was left with his mouth slightly opened being simply utterly baffled at what was going on,
first, their apartment was seemingly attacked by what seemed to be ghosts with ice powers,
second, ron was still trying to get over the fact that harry was passed out erstwhile shaking like a wet dog and
third, probably his favourite professor and the professor that saved his best friends life were stuck in a staring battle
You look at dazed boy sitting on the floor, remembering what had happened "Oh harry! Sit up, sit up"
Remus moves towards the bestecked boy, brushing against you as he helps harry sit on the seat of his compartment.
He groans slightly as he stands up, you throw a quick glance at him before turning your attention to the three teenagers
"Are you three alright? Harry? still feeling a little woozy?" You ask while remus breaks another piece of chocolate handing it to him "munch one, cmon"
"Erm yes" Harry takes the piece of chocolate "thanks- professor er" he looks at remus
"Professor lupin-" "the names lupin-" both you and remus say in the same time, before turning to look at eachother resulting in you quickly turning your head away
The three teenagers watch curiously (hermione) confused (harry) totally completely befuddled(ron)
"You haven't changed at all too y/n" remus says, half amused, and half of what almost seemed like relief
"Well, there's a limit to how much a person can change in a span of only a few years" that might cut a little deeper than intended, but remus's face looks like he understands where you were coming from
"Sorry i-" you begin, feeling a little guilty. wringing your hands "it's great seeing you..its been ages. I guess i just wasnt expecting to see you"
Remus smiles, his eyes crinkling while he did so, lines forming near his eyes which weren't there from the years in which you remembered him from
Godrick, it really has been a long time
"I know" he says in a all knowing tone that somehow didnt seem arrogant or conceited at all, you kind of missed it "I should have written you a letter or something"
"Yea" you blink "or something"
It was at this point when you realise that it wasnt only the two of you in the compartment, there was 3 other teenagers who were gawking and trying their best to make a connection between you and the other man who still remained quite unknown to them
"Uhm right" you turn away from remus, slight pink tinting your cheeks
Remus also seemed to realise this, shoving his wand into his pocket
"I better go check on all the other compartments, just in case" he says while moving out of the compartment
"Yes! You do that" you don't look at him, not quite
"Hey y/n?"
"Hm?" You turn to him, hands fiddling with eachother
"I'll talk to you soon?"
The same brown hair, same brown eyes, a coat that seemed a little too old to still be worn, the same sturdy ebony wand, and a older version of the same scarred face you often wondered about
You nodd
"Talk to you soon"
-
"What in the good name of gandalf was all that about?" Ron says appalled, as if though he just witness a crime worthy of a death penalty
Harry shrugged while nibbling on the rather large piece of chocolate in his hands
It had been a while after both you and Professor lupin or whoever he was left their compartment, albeit professor lupin looking a little ditzy after seeing you and your face being tinted a faint shade of pink
"I swear on my life" Ron points at scabbers, the old dirty rat that seemed way too scared for an animal who was safely locked up in his cage
"I swear on scabbers life! I have never seen professor l/n act like that"
Hermione rolled her eyes, scoffing
Are boys really this dense?
Harry and ron turn to her expectantly
"Well?" Harry asked
"Isn't it quite obvious?" Hermione folded her arms, her hair tossing behind her as she did so "it's so completly obvious! It literally happened infront of your eyes"
"What did? All I saw was two adults staring at eachother for like 30 minutes straight" Ron said raising his hands
"I mean" Harry added "30 minutes might be a bit of a stretch-"
"Honestly!" Hermione interjected loudly "don't you two get it?"
"Get what?"
Hermione finally losing her patience, bend down slightly, in hushed whispers, turning to see if anyone else was around, as she hissed into the ears of the two boys
"Oh" Harry blinked, unsure of what he was suppose to do with such information "Oh well, er" he looks at ron "I dont think davies is gonna take this news well"
"Poor guy" Ron announced with a rather sad face "Roger Davies is gonna lose his shit if he hears about this" shaking his head sympathetically "bluds got a bloody massive crush on professor l/n yknow"
"....ew"
-
Hermione granger was the brightest witch of her age. She wasn't bragging about her intelligence or wit, it was merely just a fact
She knew all the ingredients needed to brew the draught of living death, she memorized all the steps needed to brew the draught of peace
She studied all the uses of the mandrake root, she knew the uses of a bezeor and where to find one
She likes to be sure of what she knows, so sure that she can bet on it, she knows what's right and what's wrong, she can swear on what she knows and what she doesn't.
And Hermione Granger swears that her DADA professor and her astronomy teacher were inlove with eachother, she was so very positive about it
She had read alot about love, watched movies about love (please don't ask her to explain how a movie works, she already explained it thrice to Mr weasly)
she saw love in her parents whenever they talked with eachother, she saw love in the way molly weasly would reprimand her husband back when she spend the holidays in the burrow
She was the brightest witch of her age and she swears, that professor Remus lupin was (rather tragically) inlove with professor y/n l/n.
-
"Professor" hermione raised her hand up in an instant, rather proudly too, she knew the answer to your question almost perfectly
You nodd, urging her to speak
"Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky, its name deriving from the greek word which means scorching or glowing"
"Yes well done miss granger" you signal her to sit down "five points to gryffindor"
"Next class we will be charting and mapping some major constellations present in the northern hemisphere while using the help of sirius" you announce to your students "your all excused to go to your next class"
Immediately all students rush out, most of them grabbing their things in a hurry and running down
"Why is the astronomy tower at the top of the building and the potions classroom all the way in the dungeons?" Seamus finnigun huffed to his friend dean who nodded earnestly
"Snape would do anything to find something to pick on, cmon we don't wanna be late!"
Hermione lingered a few seconds, hiding behind the door as all the students fled downstairs, getting ready to use her time turner when suddenly,
"'Busy?" A deep voice came
You look at the tall man standing awkwardly at the door, you can't help but stiffle a laugh
"What are you doing? Standing about just like that?"
Remus scratches the back of his head while he comes into your classroom, rather carefully too as if he was worried he would break something
"Library" remus responds to your question with a slight swagger as Hermione listened intently from behind the wall
She knows she shouldn't listen, its bad to eavesdrop on other people's conversation, what would her mother say? But after what she witnessed on the train? She couldn't possibly miss out on this
"Library?" You question with a upside down smile "it's been ages since you've been to hogwarts and you still choose to hang out in the library?"
So hermione's hunch was right after all. You both did know eachother when the two of you were younger
"Well, its not like i hung out in the library alone you know" remus quipped quickly, you almost smile
"You can't teach an old dog new tricks y/n" remus says it so casually, it makes you look up to him, for a split second there was a sense of recognition inbetween the two of you
You cough, "but still.. hanging out in the library? I guess your still a nerd"
Remus raises his eyebrows "a nerd? Excuse me but I'm not the one here teaching astronomy" a smirk plays on his lips
You gasp in fake offense while remus raises his hands up in surrender "I apologise, too harsh?"
"Way too harsh Mr lupin"
The both of you crack into soft smiles and longing looks, Hermione could have sworn that if this were one of those "muggle' movies her mom and her used to watch back at home, there would be "kiss me" by sixpence none the ritcher playing in the background
"It really has been very long remmy"
Hermione's mouth forms an o shape
'Remmy' huh? Already on nickname basis are we?
"It has been quite some time y/n"
Cmon professor! Up your game a little!
"Is that all you have to say to me? After all this time?" You don't look away, your eyes piercing through remus, making him feel seen, too seen
"I- I've got too much to say" remus confessed "too little words to use"
You purse your lips, looking down on the parchment of paper on your desk
"Do you think you'll always have too little words to say? You don't have any words to spare me for now?"
His lips part, slightly open, remus realises that his sweather is quite worn out, there's a certain itch that won't go away, the colour a little too washed away, the strands fraying away at the hem of his sleeve
He has thought about this very moment for a very long time, almost every night, every day. Practicing what he should tell you, how to tell you
And yet he doesn't say anything, he cannot.
The lump in his throat is far too big to swallow, the pain in his chest pulsating through each and every vein present in his body
He fears if he opens his mout, he might swallow you whole, selfish and angry and dangerous. All things you were not, all the things you didjt deserve.
He wasn't safe to be around, his edges too sharp to be able to curve around and you were too kind to know better
The silence is overwhelming, slightly, like water droplets falling on an already filled cup
Hermione questions herself, for the first time.
Perhaps she is wrong, perhaps the two of you aren't inlove. Maybe the two of you once were and maybe that's all it was. Ashes of the past, remains of what once was
Instead, Remus walks next to you, wordlessly, quietly, and yet his actions remains defeaning against the silence that seemed to engulf the two of you
You snort, you can't help it
"Hey, you do realise we can use magic right? I don't need your help carrying those things down"
Remus nevertheless picks up a box of telescopes and other tools "we both know you were going to carry these by hand" he stated with certainty, giving you a knowing look
You resort the urge to roll your eyes
"You know me that well?" There's a slight challenge in your voice
"No, i know you enough" remus says softly, as if that itself was a sin for him to commit "im afraid that i might like to know you even more"
Silence. The wind blows, the pale blue curtains flowing as the charms hanging on the roof play a soft chime
Your unsure of what to say, how to react, the truth was painfull. But it was the truth
Finally you whisper back
"im afraid I might end up letting you"
-
Hermione quickly shuffles with her time turner, she has already wasted so much time listening to a conversation that wasn't even hers to listen but she ends up hoping for one thing
She hopes to find someone who would look at her the way remus lupin looked at you
-
Severus snape had his reasons for disliking remus lupin, you knew them too and like the decent person he knew you were, you respected his choice.
He guesses your fine, better than most actually, he doesn't like you or anything don't get him wrong.
Even back in his student days he never really talked to you much, lest it was you greeting him goodmorning whenever the two of you had classes together
But he guesses that he doesn't dislike you, your alright, your one of the few decent people that he knew in hogwarts. He doesn't mind you that much
Which is exactly why he didn't approve of remus lupin,
Perhaps back then he wouldn't have cared as much as he did now (don't get him wrong, he doesn't care about you)
but he supposes that you could do much better (he doesn't really have a valid reason he just doesn't like remus that much... again for certain specific reason)
"Lupin" severus cannot help but sneer a little as he says the name, greeting an old not very comforting face
"severus" remus nodds in acknowledgement, walking inside the potionmasters room "I suppose you know why im here"
"I do" severus rummages about to find a bottle, handing it, the air was always tense between the two, but it felt thicker tonight
"I'm surprise you came back" severus interrupts the silence "im surprised you came back at all"
Remus stops, thinking for a while "you do realise that i could say the same thing to you? Hogwarts is the last place i imagined you working"
Severus frowns, looking up at the scarred man standing infront of him
"Does she know?"
Remus stiffen for a second before answering "Yes, I suppose she does"
"Ah" severus announces like it was nothing a big of a shock "I suppose the two of you were always... close"
"What are you trying to instigate here severus?" remus snaps before stopping himself "i apolagise- i didn't mean to"
Severus shakes his head, stopping remus "the full moon is awfully close, i suggest you take care of yourself and those around you" carefully using his words
Remus stared at the bottle of Wolfsbane in his hand before placing it on the table with a thud, snape raised an eyebrow
"I never wanted her to know" remus says bitterly "it was never her burden to share, no one's burden but mine"
Severus clicks his tongue
"I almost didn't come back, i never planned to come back to hogwarts"
"Then what made you" curiosity got the better of the sneering man
Remus looked down, he let out a pathetic excuse of a chuckle "I guess I simply wanted to see her. I wondered if she ever thought about me too"
Snape doesnt say anything at first
"How pitifull' snape muttered while he moving around his room, his cloak swooshing alongst each movement
"Yes" remus murmers "I suppose so"
"Your a miserable excuse tonight lupin" severus gave a brief look towards the man infront of him "I suggest you get some rest"
"I suppose I am rather miserable tonight" remus throws his head back "the upcoming full moon is making me act strange, look at me confiding such matters to you"
Severus merely grunts
"I apologise severus, something has gotten into me tonight"
"Theres no need to do such things lupin, simply show yourself out"
Remus thanks him for the wolfsbane once more before heading out
"Professor lupin, before you go"
Remus turned around, the eye bags around his eyes much deeper than usual, his posture slightly more bend than usual
"Regarding miss L/n...im sure she thought fondly of you too, much more than you realise" Snape coughs "that is all, goodnight" slamming the door shut.
Severus walked away from the door, wondering what was wrong with him that night, what made him say such things to remus lupin of all people but ah, alas he had forgotten, the two shared one thing in common
They were both miserable,
both miserable, pitiful and pathetic for the love that they once had
Oh yes, they both loved and were loved
-
Now,
if you ask albus dumbledore, headmaster of hogwarts for many years now and counting, whether it was correct to place bets on his students than he would respond to you with a slight chuckle
Of course it was a little incorrect, but then again, he hadn't won a bet in years and he was dying to prove Minerva McGonagall wrong
"I'm telling you albus" the older women pulled down her glasses, giving a withering look at the bearded wizard "im afraid we might be getting too old with this"
"Minerva, afraid that I might break your winning streak after all?" Came the reply, his blue eyes twinkling
Minerva McGonagall frowned "you may be one of the most famous wizard of your age albus but you are hardly capable of placing correct bets"
Minerva knew that she was right.
She had been winning all the bets with Dumbledore for the past many years, successfully guessing and pairing students up.
She placed a bet on Molly and Arthur Weasly when they were once students at hogwarts,
she even predicted James Potter and Lily Evans budding romance (although she was a little worried when lily Evans refused to give in, luckily there was a turn of event in their seventh year much to Dumbledore's dismay)
She may not be the most famous wizard of her age unlike her counterpart, but she did rather have a good hunch when it came to romance (just keep that information between her and albus though)
"Well then" Minerva gave in, rather easily too "is this about your wager on Mr potter again?"
Albus shaked his head "no, it isn't, although I am immensely confident about mister potter and miss granger"
Minerva held back a scoff "Oh yes, you'll see soon that miss granger and mister potter aren't nothing more than friends, it baffles me albus! How your the smartest wizard of all time and yet you can't see that your bet should be on ms granger and mr weasly!!"
"I will not argue with you about this matter minerva" albus quickly said
"Well, atleast you didnt place your wager on ms granger and mr malfoy" Minerva tutted "what on merlin's beard is slughorn on i wonder"
"Minerva thats not the point, im talking regarding our miss y/n l/n and-"
"Remus lupin" McGonagall finished the sentence "Well theres no point on placing a bet on them, its obvious the two are made for eachother"
"Er- Oh well I was actually gonna say-"
Minerva deadpanned "Who were you going to say other than professor lupin albus?"
"Oh well of course" albus continued, hiding the fact that he was slightly flustered "our dear severus of course!"
A loud laugh escaped Minerva's lips, leaving the much older wizard slightly dumbfounded
"Oh albus" the woman wipes a tear away, a thin smile etched on her lips as she patted the headmaster
"I hope you prepared to lose you bet once again"
-
Albus Dumbledore usually never second guessed himself, he was sure of his words, his plans and especially, his bets (even though he has been in a losing streak for the past 50 years)
But after seeing such confidence in Minerva McGonagall, he was now rethinking every single thing he had witnessed so far
He was sure, absolutely positive that there was something going on between you and severus.
You seemed to be the only person severus tolerated,
Whenever you wished him goodmorning, he would always respond you back cordially
Amd albus is pretty sure that you served the boil peas to severus and not to remus lupin today during dinner tonight,
that has to mean something right??
Roaming around the school after hours was not a new thing to the old wizard, walking around the corridors and hallways as the stars glistened over head
He hears a muffled voice, continued with what seemed to be a rather private, almost confidential meet up
Noticing you and remus standing across eachother, the space between the two of you negligible
Well !!
It's none of his business, dumbledore guesses and that he has no reason to pry on such a conversation
And yet he found himself standing quietly from a distance rather much too invested in such private affairs
After all curiosity was his biggest trait
(Please forgive the old man, he simply wants to win a bet after such a long time)
"You left your lesson plans, again" you say, shaking them slightly "quite unlike you actually"
"I was coming to get them" remus waits "what makes you say that?"
"I might have thought that you left them on purpose" albus watches you shrug,
"What if I did?"
Ah!, realisation hits albus. Perhaps Minerva was right once again
"We've got to stop meeting like this, it might give the wrong impression"
"And what impression exactly are we giving?" Remus's voice rings in your ear, almost haughty
You attempt to glare at remus although your efforts are in vain as there in no heat behind it. Remus knows it too, he has a soft grin on his face
You turn to leave, exhaling slightly just before remus says, too casually "you still do that same thing with your nose when your annoyed"
You stop midstep.
"You scrunch them a little before you look away, just like back then"
For a moment neither of you speak
"And you still hate boiled peas"
Dumbledore silently comforted himself after the loss of another bet, perhaps he should stop placing bets with Minerva
"You still look after me" remus tilts his head "perhaps giving the wrong impression?"
You groan, despite the warmth in your eyes and the smile that struggled to escape "your impossible"
Remus softly shakes his head, your eyes plastered on him "your collar is still crooked, do i have to fix it?"
Remus's hands fly to his collar,
You glance up to the man you once knew, feeling all to familiar to him once again
Albus watches as you hold remus's collar in the most gentle way possible, as if though he were a precious glass doll that you were afraid of scarring.
Remus finds it a little ironic
Your fingers delicately moving alongst the nape of his neck while he muttered something to you
Your simply standing there, he's not stopping you in any sense at all, watching him with an insufferable fond look that albus remembers from back in your days as students
Why hadn't he noticed this before?
"I would have thought that you'd learn how to do your collar properly by now" you huffed, the tall man leaned in closer to you, for your comfort and ease
"I guess I got used to you fixing it for me"
You hum "you hate people touching you"
Remus lupin looks at you, a slight smile playing on his face "i suppose that makes you the exception"
Albus holds back his gasp
You sigh while finishing adjusting his collar, breaking away from him
"You're quite literally impossible"
Remus chuckles, his eyes never breaking away from yours "you like it, you still do"
"You" you point your finger at the tall man "are quite frankly delusion, might i suggest a visit st mungoes and check your head"
Remus takes a step closer, he's grinning, it makes him look younger, you think,
"Am I? Delusional?"
Albus feels like bursting out of his hiding spot, feeling like a quidditch commenter watching the most highly anticipated quidditch match of all time
But then- you laugh, its small, a little reluctant but a real laugh. And instead of walking away you simply look at remus with the same softness that has always been there since your hogwarts days
Albus turns his head away, giving the two of you space, deciding that he had seen enough
He wonders why in the world did he not catch it before, were his hunches always this bad?
"Well?" A flat voice came from a corner, Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle knowing all too well who it was
"Minerva!" Albus smiled "I was hoping to bump into you"
The grey tabby cat transformed into a frowning women with a "I told you so" look on her face
Albus sighs "I believe you have won the bet once again"
The women suppresses a smile "Yes, I believe so too"
"Am I really that dense Minerva?"
Giving the older wizard a scathing look "im afraid so professor"
"Oh...but rather refreshing to see young love blossom in our very halls is it not?" Albus dumbledore says with a satisfied look on his face
"I hope they would atleast pretend to not be too distracted with their work" Minerva remarked
"Oh minerva" albus tutted "Have you never been in love before?"
Minerva McGonagall threw a look at the headmaster
"Now all we must do is wait for the inevitable" albus proudly said "I should begin drafting a speech for their wedding should I not?"
Minerva sighs shaking her head, her voice wavering but she knew better to discourage Dumbledore "Oh yes professor, you do that"
Dumbledore gleams while walking back up to his office, he may have lost the bet but he was a sucker for happy ending, especially for his students
"Oh Minerva!" Did I ever mention?"
Dumbledore calls the tall women before he goes up into his office
"Mention what professor?"
The wizard gleams, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, Minerva wasnt sure if she was going to like what she was about to hear
"I once placed a bet on you and tom riddle back when you were a student here"
Minerva McGonagall paused, not even blinking, not even breathing
Dumbledore chuckle "Oh well, let's just hope for the best for miss y/n and mr remus lupin shall we?"
(A few hours later, filch recieves the fright of his life when he finds professor McGonagall is still standing in the hallway frozen)
-
When your called into dumbledores office in the middle of the night, the last thing you expect is to see the convicted felon sirius black and a tired, freshly scarred remus lupin
After Dumbledore filled you in with the recent events that took place and after the sirius was safely escorted to much safer place,
you found your arms resting on remus whose body remained slumped on a bed in the infirmary
The hospital wing was dimply lighted, madam pomfrey busy tending to the three teenagers (harry, ron and hermione) leaving you with the scarred man
Your eyes wander around his body which was covered in bruises, cuts, scars and a deep gash along his side from his recent turning.
You tend to his wounds, your hands shaking slightly while you moved with precision and a look of gentleness in your eyes which remus did not missed
"It might sting a little" you warn, while dabbing the cotten pad soaked in antiseptic to his cheek
Remus flinched slightly but does not move nor say anything, only nods slightly.
He had always been like this- quiet, composed and never one to complain. But you could feel the tension in him, the way his shoulders stayed rigid under your touch, the way his eyes darted around you, looking at you everywhere but at your eyes
"It doesn't hurt?" You ask in an attempt to lighten the mood but your voice wavers just enough to betray your feelings
Remus notices it without missing a beat, his body softening on hearing the vulnerability in your voice
It's all for him, it's all because of him
"It's not the cut that hurts y/n. It's the fact that yours still the one tending to them even after all these years"
You still for a moment- memories of late night study sessions and hushed conversations. You tending to his scars at midnight after every turning while the rest of the marauders watched with a knowing smirk.
Memories of the past seemed to dance infront of your eyes, flickering like candles and flittering like ghosts.
The quiet estrangement between you and remus, the way the two of you parted ways so easily- but here he was. So close to you, yet you have never felt further from him
"Maybe some things don't change" your murmer under your breath, your fingers brushing against his skin for longer than necessary
Remus smiles, its a wistful and rather melancholy smile
The both of you felt the weight of all the unsaid words between the two of you, it lingered liked the fog on a misty morning, just like the lingering glance remus always gave to you
"It's not that bad you know" remus mutters "your looking at me like I'm going to drop dead"
His voice is rough , deep and slightly slurred, still recovering from from the disorientation from his shift, he keeps his eyes closed, though his sharp breathing tells you that the pain is no less than real
You look up, a small frown tugging your lips "you always say that, but here you are, covered in cuts and scars" your tone is light but theres a hidden edge of concern that was undiscernable
Remus chuckles softly, though the sound is strained "i'm alot tougher than i look, have a little faith in me won't you?"
Your fingers linger around his face, your touch soft, slightly cold against his flushed hot blooded self.
Remus tenses from your touch, but relaxes almost immediately. You can tell he's holding back more than just the pain, you just didn't know what.
"I could have helped you, i was always willing to help you, you know that don't you?" Your voice betrays all the concern and worry you had been holding back, your voice breaking,
Remus doesnt meet your eyes, not at first, his expression distant and struggling to find the words
"I didn't want to hurt anyone" he finally says, "especially you, i never want to hurt you"
"I know" you whisper gently, your hands move towards his "but that doesn't mean you have to do it alone"
For a moment he remains silent, it makes you think whether he even heard you at all. His fingers curl into the edge of the cot, jaws clenched tight.
But then he moves his hands towards yours too, slowly, hesitantly, almost scared.
But he missed it, he missed your touch all too much to no longer deny it. He missed you
"I dont want to hurt you" he repeats again like a confession. His voice fragile and vulnerable
You look at him, the weight of his gaze holding you in place before you finally utterly "you won't"
Your afraid remus would pull away, push you away, retreat back but he doesnt.
He let's you finish bandaging him, let's you hold him, letting you do what you've always done, even when the two of you were no longer together: care for him
And even when your done he doesn't pull away, you meet his eyes again, once again feeling the weight of all the unsaid words
"I'm scary" his voice is barely a whisper "and dangerous, and frightening. You don't deserve to go through all of that"
You smile faintly, leaning towards him, brushing against lock of his his hair away from his face
"Remus lupin, you eat your toast burned to crisps, you have your coffee so black im convince your taste buds are dead, you have memorized lines from random horrible plays I have never heard of before"
your hands holds his face with utmost care
"Trust me" you smile, your tone teasing if not for the warmth in your voice "you couldn't scare me even if you try"
For a brief moment theres nothing but the sound of breathing, two people who had never really let eachother go. Though remus doesnt say it, the way his hands holds your waist, and the way he looks at you, speaks louder than words ever could
"Next time, let me help you"
A smile tugs on remus's lips, twitching in a rare crooked smile "ill try to remember that"
"And don't leave, i dont think i can bear it if you disappear from me twice" you whisper
"I wont be able to stay away for long even if I tried" remus whispered back like a solemn vow "I'll always come for you, ill always find my way to you"
Your hands still linger on one another, gazes still intact, though no words are exchange it is not necessary, the soft smiles tugging both your lips are enough
For the first time in years, it feels like the two of you are on the same side once again.
-
"Hand me the galleons you owe me albus" Minerva reaches her hand out, an eyebrow raised
"Oh Minerva, must we hurry? I'm well aware you won the bet but-"
Minerva McGonagall cleared her throat loud and clear
Severus snape rolled his eyes and sighed, muttering under his breath about "childish behavior"
Albus dumbledore sulked "im going to go bankrupt if this keeps on going on"
Minerva suppressed her smile, despite feeling proud of her achievement "do you still want to go on with the bets albus? Unless your afraid of losing once more"
Severus frowned "must you encourage such behavior professor McGonagall?"
"I'll win the next bet, just you wait and see minerva" Dumbledore said, despite his initial complain, repeating what he had been saying every time for the past 50 years since he had been losing
"mr cedric diggory and ms cho chang" Minerva announced her next bet, folding her arms, her head held high
Albus watched with a broad grin "Minerva, i might have to prove you wrong there!"
Minerva watched with eyebrows raised
"It's obviously ms cho chang and mr roger davies"
"Oh dear" severus groaned
Minerva covered her mouth, turning away to laugh, confident that she had won before it even begun while albus dumbledore began listing the reason for his belief
"Mr Roger Davies and ms cho chang were practicing quidditch together and may I mention that it seemed a rather private meet up with only the two of them-"
"Isn't mr Davies the captain of the ravenclaw quidditch team and ms chang the seeker of the quidditch team?" Severus reminded the older wizard
"Yes but severus your missing the point-"
Severus Snape raised his hand, he had heard enough, pinching the bride of his nose he excused himself, he had better things to do than involve himself in such trivial childish matters, especially those that involved the life of silly hormonal teenagers
He walked out with a whoosh of his cloak, seemingly ready to slam the door, just when-
"My bet is with minerva" he curtly announced before promptly slamming the door shut
hi lovely!! can i please get a poly!marauders x fem reader where she’s always shy to ask for attention and maybe she just really wants them to smother her in cuddles and all (not as if they dont already) so she tries to discreetly cozy up to them at any given opportunity and they notice and they’re all like heck if its attention you want then its damn attention you’ll get
THANK YOU <33
apologies for how ridiculously late this is, life STAYS busy, but of course you can have that lovely! i hope you enjoy :) <3
"cuddle puddles"
1.3 k words, poly!marauders (remus centric) x reader, extremely fluffy <3
The last few months had felt like absolute heaven for you. Classes were going swimmingly, you'd won several points for your house, and generally felt like you were walking on air.
Not to mention, you were just plain in love.
The Marauders were well known for their boisterous and loving nature, but experiencing it first hand was entirely different. Ever since they'd woven you into their lives, there wasn't a moment you'd felt lost. Everything clicked. Always you had someone to turn to, someone to heal, someone to hold. The "Honeymoon" phase felt endless.
Constantly you would find yourself swept into James's arms in the halls, or Remus would be waiting to walk you to your next class hand in hand. The way Sirius would hang off of you often turned into a gentle lecture about how "most people don't like seeing couples snogging in the halls, so lets keep our hands in PG places, Sirius!"
All too often, however, it would also be a matter of dropping hint after hint after hint to your boys that you wanted more.
It really wasn't their fault at all! It just seemed like whenever you craved more attention, you'd tense up. Words escaped you and all you could do was stare and shuffle and pray they'd read your mind.
The unfortunate piece of the matter, however, was that now happened to be one of those times.
Sat upon a soft red blanket laid out across the grass, you let your eyes fall shut against the calm afternoon. A soft breeze brushed your cheek as you inhaled. Despite the sound of Sirius and James arguing over Quidditch players, all you could feel was complete and utter peace. With a delightful picnic settled in your stomach and your boys surrounding you everything was nearly right in the world.
A quiet chuckle emanated from Remus, who was sat next to you, and the sound of shuffling about reached you next. One of your eyes slipped open to observe Remus's new position before shutting and shifting accordingly to be seated directly next to him.
You did not see the fond smile that graced his face as he looked at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the sight of you so relaxed. Sirius and James were now settling somewhat.
"What's on your mind, dovey?"
A low hum left you as you opened your eyes to find his, which made you smile just the same as he was.
"Nothing much."
"Nothing at all?"
"Nothing at all."
He couldn't resist leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your cheek before returning to his spot. As he pulled back, you leaned to follow him, before righting yourself. The corner of your lips tugged down before turning to watch Sirius now flirt and paw at James, no doubt in an attempt to sway his opponent to his side. It seemed to be working.
Quietly, you pressed yourself against Remus's side and leaned your head on his shoulder. He let his head fall on top of yours in response. This began to return a smile to your face.
"You sure there's nothing on your mind?"
"Entirely confident."
Nothing but you, you thought, but did not say.
He turned his head to press a kiss to your temple before wrapping an arm around your waist to ensure you were pressed against him. James now realized Sirius's goal and was playfully chastising him for using his "beautiful face" against him. You turned your face into Remus's shoulder.
"Right, it's just you seem awfully touchy, and-"
"Remus."
"I'll drop it! I'll drop it... Only if you can tell me honestly there's nothing more I can do for you."
"Remus!"
You flushed and pulled fully away from him this time, arms fully crossing and mouth down-turned into a pout. A crinkly, bittersweet feeling filled your heart as James gave in and let Sirius smother him. He pressed kiss after kiss after kiss to the seeker's face and eventually got him pinned to the ground in what must've been the largest and sweetest hug in history. Remus then gently coaxed your hand away from you and into his, making you lift your gaze to meet his concerned one.
"Please sweet thing," He began, running a soothing finger over your knuckles, "Tell me what's wrong? Watching you fret is making me fret and that can't be very good for either of us."
With a quiet sigh, you twisted your hand to intertwine your fingers and squeeze at his palm. He squeezed back.
"I just... find it embarrassing."
"What embarrassing?"
You felt your face warm even more as you groaned and dragged your free hand against your cheek. A mental search began to find the words you needed to explain to Remus that really nothing is wrong at all and in fact you just felt completely repressed about the whole affection thing.
"The whole... Well..." You huffed, squeezing his hand again. Now, Remus was nothing but the epitome of patience for you. "You know how you all love me so much? And you show a lot of that love through- through touch?"
At this Remus paused, worry pooling in his eyes as he inched away from you. He even began to drop your hand. "We haven't made you uncomfortable, have we love?"
"No- No, no, no, that's not it at all, in fact, I really, really wish you'd-"
A pause in your minor panic over correcting him. Any kind of words fled your mind and you settled for simply squeezing his hand yet again, feeling completely miserable about your inability to actually pursue what you wanted with confidence.
However, your misery was short lived as a light bulb seemed to go off in Remus's head and he tugged you close again, this time pulling you right onto his lap to face him. He smiled and pulled your face into his hands.
"Dovey, do you just want us to be more affectionate?"
This returned your smile, albeit awkward, as you nodded your head. Remus beamed and pulled you in for a sweet kiss before holding you tightly against him, his head resting on your shoulder. He began to speak when-
"Oi! What are you two doing over there?"
Your sweet moment was semi-interrupted by Sirius who came towards the two of you with a freshly kissed grin. He knelt next you both and pressed warm kisses to both of your heads. James followed not far behind him and laid down on your other side, completely sprawled out and grinning like a fool.
"Just making sure dovey gets all the love and attention they deserve," said Remus, who now turned his head into your neck to press a kiss there. "Apparently we've been neglecting the poor thing."
"I did not say neglect-"
Your protest was cut short, however, by a gasping Sirius. He all but body slammed you off of Remus, who only rolled his eyes, and on top of James, who let out a loud "whoof" sound at the sudden attack. Despite the wind knocked out of him, he didn't entirely seem to mind and quickly began to rub your arm with a pout.
"Is everything alright, lovie?"
"Everything is fine."
"Of course it is, now that we know you just need some extra holding," Remus teased, shifting Sirius off of him only to join him in hugging you on top of James, who was continuing to take the impromptu cuddle pile in his lap very, very well.
"If it's affection you want, dove, it is affection you shall have!" Sirius declared, before beginning to press kiss after kiss to your face, much in the same manner he had done to James. A sweet giggle escaped you before he eventually settled, content to hold you and Remus while James presided over all three of you, running his free hand through Remus's hair.
A little while later, after you all had been resting together and holding each other for quite a while, James's gentle voice broke the silence.
"I like this. We should do cuddle puddles more often."
only like you can: ex boyfriend!james and reader just can’t seem to stay away from each other. (7.9k words: ANGST AND FLUFF)(fem!reader)
tenderly, tragically: best friends aka idiots to lovers. they’ll never learn until they do (9.4k words: FLUFF AND SMUT)(fem!reader)
darling, i fancy you: yet another idiots to lovers. this time a college/muggle!au. they’re falling slowly but she hates him openly (8.2k words: FLUFF)(fem!reader)
don't want you like a best friend: "James is nervous about his inexperience with girls. Luckily he has a best friend who's more than willing to help" (2.5k: SMUT)(fem!reader)
hands that make hell seem cold: “Friends to lovers. Emphasis on lovers.” (3.2k: SMUT)(fem!reader)
Remus Lupin:
one shots:
you should see the things we do, baby: Remus and Reader decide to take advantage of teasing Sirius, and it leads to a lot more than a dirty dream (5.2k words: SMUT. 18+)(fem!reader)
series:
treacherous: This slope is treacherous, but you both realize that nothing safe is worth the drive. In which, Remus Lupin, ever the believer in his own flaws and failures, falls for someone he never expected to. (20.9k running word count: FLUFF AND ANGST)(fem!reader)
Sirius Black:
one shots:
you should see the things we do, baby: Remus and Reader decide to take advantage of teasing Sirius, and it leads to a lot more than a dirty dream (5.2k words: SMUT. 18+)(fem!reader)
Draco Malfoy
one shots:
isn’t it?: “Years after the battle at Hogwarts, reader runs into an unlikely old friend. A simple invitation to tea leads to much more.” (10k words: FLUFF)(fem!reader)
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader
Summary: Your cramps wake you, but Remus knows what to do.
Tags: fem!reader, no use of y/n, menstrual cramps, period pain, remus being gentle, remus is your anchor, touch as comfort, quiet hurt/comfort, sleepy domesticity, pain that takes up too much space, heat pack and tea ritual, soft!remus, no magic fix but he stays anyway
Word count: 2.3k words
You wake in the dark, curled tight into yourself like something fragile and breakable. Your knees are drawn to your chest, arms folded protectively around your middle, the duvet bunched up and twisted somewhere near your shins. The sheets feel too heavy, clinging to you like damp cloth, and your skin prickles uncomfortably, too tight, too sensitive, like your nerves are wearing themselves thin. Pain pulses low in your abdomen, deep and rhythmic, like the slow, cruel beat of a war drum. It churns and twists in a way that defies description, a hot, dragging pull that seems to reach down to your spine and radiate outward. Your body feels hijacked by something unrelenting and ancient. Something that has no regard for time or mercy. You're caught in its teeth.
You can barely breathe around it.
A whimper escapes before you can bite it back. It cuts through the silence, small but unmistakable, almost accusatory in its frailty. The kind of sound that betrays you even in the dark.
Remus is already stirring beside you. He's never fully asleep when you're in this state, always hovering just beneath the surface, waiting. His sleep is shallow, protective. A hair-trigger sensitivity developed over months—years—of learning your rhythms, your tells. He shifts with a quiet urgency, blinking the haze of dreams from his eyes as he turns toward you. You don't need to speak. He knows.
His hand finds you instantly, warm and steady, sliding across the slope of your stomach where it clenches like a fist. His palm rests there, grounding you, and you feel the weight of his presence seep into your bones. It's the smallest touch, but it carves space around the pain. A signal: you're not alone.
He doesn't speak right away. Just breathes with you. Slow. Even. His thumb strokes tiny, almost imperceptible circles into your skin, and for a moment, it's enough to distract you from the ache. The rhythm of his touch is steady, hypnotic. Like a lullaby with no melody. You match your breaths to his without thinking.
You don't speak—can't yet—but you feel the press of his lips against your bare shoulder, soft and deliberate. His breath is warm against your skin, laced with sleep, and you feel it ghost down your arm, grounding you in the here and now.
"Bad one?" he murmurs, voice thick and rough-edged. There's something in the way he says it—gentle, but laced with a kind of helpless fury at the fact that this keeps happening to you. That he can't take it away. That all he can do is be here.
You nod, your face still buried in the pillow. It's all you can manage. The pain has robbed you of language, and even this simple gesture costs you more than it should. You feel the sting of tears pricking behind your eyelids, but you don't let them fall. Crying would only make it worse.
His hand strokes over your stomach again, barely any pressure, just warmth and familiarity. A silent reassurance. You hear the soft exhale through his nose, then the rustle of sheets as he shifts away. The absence of his body beside yours is immediate.
"I'll get the tea on," he says, already half out of bed, his voice quieter now but still close. "And the heating pad. Be right back, love."
You crack one eye open, catching a glimpse of him pulling on a pair of old grey sweatpants—loose and threadbare, low on his hips. He moves slowly, quietly, as if not to disturb anything more than necessary. Like the pain itself is a living thing that might grow teeth if provoked. You watch him, or rather the shadow of him, as he crosses the room.
"Sorry," you croak, and it comes out more like a breath than a word. Your throat feels dry, raw at the edges. Saying it feels foolish, but the guilt clings anyway. The guilt of disrupting the quiet, of needing too much.
Remus pauses at the foot of the bed. He looks at you—eyes soft, brows drawn together. "Don't be ridiculous. You've nothing to be sorry for."
"You were asleep."
He shakes his head slowly, almost smiling. "I sleep better knowing you're okay."
You manage something close to a smile, weak and fleeting. It trembles at the corners. He returns it, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He hates seeing you like this. You know that look. It's the one he wears when he's trying not to worry too loudly. The one that says if he could take it from you, he would—without hesitation.
He turns to go, then pauses again. "Do you want peppermint or chamomile?" he asks, already moving toward the door. "Or that horrid cinnamon one you like when you're feeling dramatic."
"Peppermint," you mumble, and close your eyes again. The word feels like gravel in your mouth, but it's all you can offer. Even that feels like an ask.
He chuckles under his breath, a warm, familiar sound, and disappears down the hall. The boards creak faintly beneath his steps, and the kettle clicks on not long after. The quiet hum of it follows moments later, distant and comforting. Somewhere, the cupboard door opens. You picture him reaching for the tin, opening it with that soft pop of the lid, unwrapping the heating pad from the little basket where you always keep it, half-hidden beneath towels. You imagine the way his fingers move, slow and precise even in half-sleep.
You know the ritual by heart now—the sleepy shuffling, the way he always checks the temperature of the heating pad against the inside of his wrist even though it's never burned you. The way he sets things down gently, like everything around him might shatter if touched too quickly.
You hear the kettle begin to build toward its boil. The comforting, domestic sounds drift back to you through the flat, like a gentle reminder that time is still moving forward, even if you feel suspended in this moment of discomfort. Somewhere beyond this room, the world exists in its usual shape—cars humming, morning birds still asleep, the moon casting silver slashes of light across the floor.
The absence of him leaves a cold patch on the sheets, but the ghost of his hand still lingers on your stomach. You shift slightly, but the pain flares again—sharp, hot, angry—and you freeze. Every movement feels like it comes with a consequence. Even thinking too hard seems to make it worse.
You wait, curled in the dark, tension taut and aching through every limb, surrounded by the scent of night and the promise of warmth returning. A promise you cling to like a lifeline, even as the minutes stretch long and the ache grows deeper. You count the seconds between the kettle's hum and the soft sounds of care that carry from the kitchen, and you hold on to the shape of him in your mind like a lighthouse blinking through fog.
When he comes back, you haven't moved. Can't. Your body's locked in the same coiled position, every muscle wound tight around the pain, like a spring held too long. Breath shallow, lips parted. The tears you were holding back have edged closer, threatening to spill, but still you hold them off—barely. Even blinking feels like too much. Even thought. Every inhale scrapes against the raw ache in your abdomen, like trying to breathe through barbed wire. Your hands are clenched around the sheets, nails digging into fabric, knuckles aching from tension.
You don't look at him, but you feel the shift of the room, the change in temperature, the quiet presence of someone who never leaves when it gets hard. The soft pad of his feet on the floorboards. The faint clink of the mug on the bedside table. The subtle creak of the heating pad as he shifts its weight in his hand. There's a brief silence, the kind that feels intentional, like he's giving you time, space to exist as you are. He doesn't speak yet. He just places the heating pad against your stomach with a care that makes your chest ache.
The warmth is immediate. Heavy and soothing. It doesn't fix it, not even close, but it blunts the worst of the edges. You let out something between a sigh and a shudder, something broken and soft, and his hand lingers a moment longer atop the heat, fingers brushing lightly along your ribs as though grounding you there. His touch is cautious but sure, like he knows exactly where the pain sits, like he's drawing a boundary around it—this far, no farther. He adjusts the position slightly, nudging it closer to where it hurts most. Always so precise. Always so aware. He presses his palm flat over it for a few heartbeats, adding his own heat.
Then he's moving again—back into bed beside you. The sheets shift. The duvet rustles faintly as he lifts it. A second later, he's behind you, his body sliding into place like it was always meant to fit there. His chest presses to your back, solid and warm, and his arm curves around your waist. You feel the bend of his knees behind yours. He settles slowly, making sure every inch of contact is welcome, measured. A wordless question, answered by the fact that you don't pull away. He exhales slowly, like even that is for you.
He adjusts you gently, guiding you without force, just enough to ease your back against his chest. The movement is slow, careful. Protective. Like he's afraid of adding to what's already unbearable. His other hand slides beneath the duvet, resting lightly over yours, layering warmth atop warmth. He breathes in slowly, as if showing you the way. You feel the exhale against the back of your neck. Then again, longer this time, as if daring you to match him.
"Breathe with me," he says quietly, voice close to your ear, hushed in the dark. "We'll get through this."
You nod, barely, your chin brushing the pillow. The pain still claws at you, unrelenting, but his words wrap around you like another layer of warmth, soft and certain. You try to follow his lead—inhale, exhale, again. Your breath catches on the way in, falters on the way out. But you try. You try for him. You try because he's here, and it's the only thing you can control.
It's difficult at first. The pain doesn't want to let go. It holds you in its grip, gnashing and greedy. But his voice is there, steady, murmuring quiet encouragement against the crown of your head. Not instructing. Just being. Just offering something real in a moment that feels otherwise unbearable.
You focus on his hand, where it rests over yours, his thumb tracing slow arcs against your skin. The weight of it reminds you that you're here. That he's here. That you're not doing this alone. And when a sharp cramp rolls through you again, worse than the last, he doesn't flinch when you whimper. He only holds you a little more securely, his touch never faltering. He draws your hand closer to your chest, anchoring you there.
His presence is a kind of tether. A grounding cord in the middle of a storm. He's not flustered by your pain, not scared of your tears. He's not trying to fix you or rush you through it. He just stays. Steady and warm, the way he always does. It's not dramatic. It's not loud. It's just him, breathing in time with you. Matching you, guiding you. Letting your pain take up space without making it bigger.
The rhythm of his breathing becomes your anchor. The slow rise and fall. You time your inhales to his. Let your chest move with his. You count silently, inhale for four, hold for two, exhale for six. It doesn't make the pain disappear, but it makes it quieter. Manageable. Bearable, in the way that things are only bearable when you don't have to carry them alone. He strokes your fingers in a lazy rhythm, his pinky curled around yours.
Sometimes he murmurs soft nothings—words without shape or weight, the kind that don't need to make sense. Just sound. Just presence. He tucks his face into your hair and breathes there. Sometimes he kisses your shoulder, not to comfort, just to remind you he's still there. And when you shift—flinch slightly—he adjusts without hesitation. His hand rubs slow, mindless circles into your side, a rhythm as familiar as your own heartbeat. You feel his stubble graze your neck, and his warmth blankets every inch of your back.
You close your eyes. Let your hand rest lightly over his. Let yourself lean back into him, just a little more. The tears finally come—not in sobs, but quiet streaks down your cheeks. He doesn't mention them. Doesn't brush them away. He just stays. The rhythm doesn't change. The room doesn't shrink. Nothing collapses around you.
You don't speak. You don't need to. Everything that matters is happening in the space between breaths, in the warmth at your back, in the way he holds you like you're not broken. Like you're just you. The pain still thrums beneath the surface, deep and relentless. There's no magic fix. No potion or spell that would undo it. But there's this. Him.
And for now, that's enough to keep you here. It's not healing. Not yet. But it is survival. It is presence. It is love, in its simplest form: staying.
warnings: haven't proofread as well as I could have, gets pretty hot and heavy, sirius slutshaming, prongsbashing
summary: At the end of sixth year, the Marauders are set to perform a set at the graduation ball for their upperclassmen. It's a hot summer day and tensions are running high. What will happen when things unsaid come to the surface?
word count: 4425
a/n: My first ever Wizarding World fic! Hope you guys enjoy it. I've been fascinated with the Marauders ever since I was a kid and I'm frankly shocked that I've never so much as drafted a fic about any of them. Well, there's a first time for everything.
pic ref: very young and very beautiful David Thewlis in the 1980s with his band Door 66. Razor Blades and Mrs Moony's House are the only two remaining music videos. I recommend giving them a watch if you like post punk and new wave.
song ref: You Took the Words Right Out of my Mouth by Meatloaf (released 24th of March 1978 in the UK, so it doesn't quite fit with the established Marauder's timeline, but WHATEVER we just have to cope with that)
Summer swept over Hogwarts all at once, patching the emerald lawns with thousands of tiny yellow wildflowers. Honeybees bobbed lazily around the planters in the windows as a wave of giddy heat settled over the grounds. Sweet smelling herbs were in full bloom in the green houses, their fragrance catching on the breeze as far away as the Astronomy Tower. The world seemed hellbent on drawing me outside, but there was only a week left of my sixth year at Hogwarts, and still two exams left. Even still, I was not studying on that lazy Sunday morning. Instead, I found myself in one of the sweltering music practise classrooms with my best friends, rubbing my hands raw on my drumsticks in preparation for our gig at the graduation party for our upperclassmen. We had been practising for nearly two hours by the time James decided it was time for him to “take a slash,” and finally let us take a well deserved break.
“Infrigido,” Remus passed his wand over a glass he had just filled from the great silver pitcher by the door. It fogged, weeping beads of perspiration down the side.
“Thanks, Rem.” Our fingers brushed as he passed it to me, burning hot. For once I was grateful for the sweltering atmosphere, confident that my face was already too red to visibly blush.
Instantly, the cool glass sapped the thick feeling from my overworked fingers. I held it to my lips and drained it in a few gulps, only surfacing for air when nothing remained but the dregs. Remus let out a breathy laugh, and refilled the glass with another wave of his wand. I drank from it again, and this time I found that I could drink and drink, but the glass remained full.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” I marvelled, pressing the chilled surface to my flushed cheek.
“Charms class.” He ducked his head bashfully and took the glass back, drinking deeply.
“That must be where he learned to be so charming.” I snickered as Remus sputtered on his icy mouthful.
“Oh, shove off it.” He croaked, lightly pushing my shoulder.
I stumbled back, clutching at it theatrically, and flopped down onto the squashy L-shaped couch where Sirius was luxuriously reclined in a beam of sunlight. My head came to rest on his lap.
“Bit hot and bothered there, ma chouette?”
“You don’t know the half of it, Siz.”His grey eyes glittered in amusement, tongue darting foxishly over one prominent canine. “You try keeping time with you lot and see how you feel by the end of it.”
“Ouch.” He raised a ringed hand to his heart.
Sirius was attractive, everyone could agree on that much. From the untamed wreath of curly hair, muscled forearms already tan though summer had barely begun, to the stompy black biker boots, everything about him attracted groupies like flies. That’s not to mention his slightly sleazy sense of humour and ticklish charisma that had most girls hanging off his every word. He was like dark chocolate to me; something rich and decadent, something that I was sure I couldn’t resist if it presented itself. Yet, even with his jeans rough against my cheek, my gaze strayed back to Remus (who seemed adamant to look at anything but me) and I knew I had a taste for something sweeter.
“Well, I for one, am glad I’m not a drummer.” Peter simpered, his beady eyes flickering to my bare legs. “I don’t know how you manage it, Quills.”
“With great difficulty.”
I fought to keep the tension out of my voice. I always hated the way my feathery nickname sounded in his mouth. For that matter, I had always hated Pettigrew himself, even before second year when I caught him lying that he had met John Lennon on holiday in Poole. I decided soon after meeting him that he was like a rat- annoying and cowardly, but ultimately too harmless to justify having an open dislike for- so it was greatly amusing to me when our Animagus forms revealed themselves. I was an owl, so there was a certain murderous instinct that took over me when I saw him scurrying through the long grass. But alas, James and Sirius enjoyed him sucking up to them, so I was forbidden from eating him.
“Well, it’s greatly appreciated.” His plump cheeks dimpled as he smiled.
“Thanks, Peter.” I managed a sweet smile, then sighed dramatically. “At least someone appreciates me.”
It’s a shame it’s him and not Remus. I thought glumly. He had gone back to messing with his bass. It was a beat up old thing that had clearly gone through a serious thrashing some time in the 60s. There were deep scratches in the blue glittery finish and the edges of the body were scarred from smacking into things.
I will never forget the day I found it. All through fourth year, the boys and I had been dreaming of forming a band, and that summer I had been wandering through the muggle end of Manchester when I came upon it at a car-boot sale. It shone out like a diamond amongst the kitsch, and I knew instantly that it was meant for Remus. When school started in the autumn, I had Lily paint bubbly white flowers over the worst of the damage. He cried when I gave it to him. It was a bit of a shock, watching him go quiet and tense, like he was swallowing a big pill. He managed a quiet ‘ thanks,’ and bolted to his dorm room. It was late when he came back, all puffy eyes and sheepish smiles, and hugged me tight to his chest. ‘You’re the best, Ferne,’ came the shaky whisper against my ear. I’ll always remember that as the moment I started to realise I might be in love with Remus Lupin.
It was then that James came bursting back into the room, wiping his hands on his bell-bottoms. Marching straight to his guitar, he ran his still wet hand through his unruly hair, half-flattening it. He hoisted the instrument over his shoulder in a business-like way. To a casual observer he almost looked careless, but I could see an almost exaggerated level of care in his movements. It really was the Jaguar of guitars, I had to admit. Gloss black and curvy, James treated it like a fetish to some weird god, stroking it, polishing it, praying to it. He strummed a slightly off-key chord and set about tuning it.
“What are you all laying about for?” He spoke without lifting his eyes from the knobs.
“I’m just having a kip, Prongsy.” I mumbled, closing my eyes. I decided he deserved a wind up, he’d worked us to the bone after all.
“Go on, get up.” Though his voice was still mild, I could hear a testy edge.
“Don’t look at me.” Sirius added. “There happens to be a rare bird roosting in my lap.”
“Quills, let him up.”
“Oh but, Jaaaames!” I squirmed. “It’s too hot!”
“Oh, you poor thing. Somebody call St Mungo’s.”
“Dick.” I huffed, eyes still stubbornly shut. “C’mon, we’ve been at it all morning. Can’t we just pick it up again tomorrow?”
“We’ve been at it all morning and we still haven’t ran through the big finisher.”
“But-”
“JUST GET UP!”
My eyes snapped open and jolt of unexplained terror shot through me at the sudden shout, like the snap of a firework. Though my eyes met instantly with the culprit, it took me a moment to comprehend that it was Remus glaring daggers back at me. He had never snapped at me like that in all the years I had known him. Sure, he had gotten short with me around the full moon, but there had never been such venom in his voice. I took a set my jaw and shoved myself up, trying to mask the hurt. Some of it must have shown on my face, as he dropped his viscous stare and pretended to adjust his peddles. I stalked past him and slumped onto my stool, glaring into his face as I passed, though he refused to raise his eyes from the floor.
Sirius cleared his throat. “Your time of the month, is it, Moony?”
Peter gave a weak chuckle, his eyes darting frantically between the three of us. James seemed to be calculating something. He passed me a questioning look and I shrugged like flicking a fly off my shoulder. Remus spoke up, his voice tense and measured.
“Let’s run through the closer.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth, Moony dear.” James snickered at his own joke, the tension clearly forgotten to him. “I want to start with the spoken word bit, but if you guys are-”
“No, it’s fine.” It was my turn to speak up, a challenge in my tone. “We’ll do it, won’t we, Moony?”
Finally, his startled eyes met with mine. It was not a nickname I used often. He was always Remus or Rem to me, Remmie if we were alone. ‘Moony’ was a tired joke. Knowing he was properly in the doghouse, he looked away and muttered.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
“Right.” James clapped once. “Everyone up then.”
With a groan, Sirius hauled himself to his feet and saluted.
“Sir, yes, sir!”
Peter settled himself behind the keyboard and Remus stood by, his shoulder facing me. It pissed me off.
“On a hot summer night,” He recited monotonously. “Would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?”
“Yes.” I spat.
Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs call burst into fits of snickers. Even Remus seemed to be suppressing a smirk.
“What?” I demanded hotly, looking to James for answers.
It was Sirius who spoke up. “The line, my dear, is, ‘will he offer me his mouth?’”
I flushed, sat back and folded my arms, trying to look unperturbed. “Well, how am I supposed to remember if he’s not even looking at me, mm?”
“He is fucking incredible to look at, isn’t he?” Sirius said, fanning himself.
“Mm, yes.” James agreed as Remus turned his back on them. “Check out his arse!”
“Shut up, you animals.” Remus tossed over his shoulder. The fire in his eyes had dampened some, and I felt that familiar squeeze in my stomach as he looked straight into my eyes. “Better?”
I nodded tersely. He nodded back. My owl eyes honed in on the sunlight reflecting in the sweat sheen gathered on his lip. He sighed.
“On a hot summer night, would you-”
“Can we get some emotion in that, please?”
“What kind of emotion, Prongs?”
“Lust, ideally.” James threw a smirk my way. “I mean, I know that might be a challenge, but…”
That one stung. I had always known I wasn’t much of a looker, and James had a nasty fascination with riling me up, but I never expected him to insult my looks. It was a low blow, even for him, but I grit my teeth and prepared to laugh it off. I figured I should be a good sport, what with tensions already running high. What I wasn’t preparing for was Remus rounding on him, his voice disarmingly pleasant.
“What did you just say about her?” He was almost smiling.
James chuffed out a placating sort of laugh. “I just meant that you’ve been friends for so long, it must be a bit weird-”
“You’re the one making us do this, James.” I sighed, suddenly weary. It was true, James had dogged us into doing the stupid dialogue as some public demonstration of our inside joke. “I know you think it’s funny that Rem’s a werewolf and we’re the only ones who know, but it’s a bit of an antique fucking joke by now, isn’t it?”
James puffed out his cheeks, looked at Remus and scoffed. “You don’t mind, do you, Moony?”
Remus ran a hand through his hair and looked into the middle distance as though he had just been asked for the meaning of life.
“Sometimes,” He rasped. “It feels like the only way to survive a disease like this is to make a joke out of it.”
Sirius gave a low whistle to break the silence.
“We’ll do the intro, but I need a break.” He swung the bass off his shoulders and grabbed his satchel instead.
“The gig is in three days!” James begged.
“And we have a transfiguration exam tomorrow. It’s boiling hot in here and I need to revise. Coming, Ferne?”
It took me by surprise that he wanted to be around me at all, but I stuck my drumsticks in my pocket and got up to follow.
“Guys, c’mon!” James whined. “Padfoot-”
“Not a chance, mate.” Sirius gave a mighty stretch and grabbed his enormous leather jacket. “Have you seen how nice it is outside?”
Remus’s hand, gentle as ever, took me by the elbow and guided me into the hall., but as soon as it was there, it was gone. He walked so briskly that I almost needed to jog to keep up. Silence hung thickly between us as we wound our way through stairwells and passages until we surfaced at last near the greenhouses. The warm breeze passing over us blew away the tension in my shoulders.
“Why are we running?” I panted.
“We’re not,” He took me by the wrist and yanked me into the nearest greenhouse, ducking down below the planters. “But he is.”
As I peered over the steaming tops of some Puffing Peonies, I saw Wormtail come bustling out of the entrance we had just emerged from. He was doubled over and heaving breaths, glancing about in confusion. He turned around a few times, then his shoulders slumped, and he ambled off somewhere to do whatever rats do when the owls aren’t watching. I couldn’t help but giggle as I turned to Remus.
“Why are we hiding from him?”
He exhaled sharply, a hint of disapproval in his easy smile. “Because if Peter came along, you’d find some reason to run off.”
I huffed, frustrated to be read so easily.
“And,” He added more softly. “We haven’t hung out just to two of us in forever.”
He looked away, pink creeping up his neck, and fiddled with a frayed string on his jeans.
“I don’t know what to make of you today.”
“I’m sorry.” He said instantly. “I just… I shouldn’t take it out on you, should I?”
“What’s wrong, Rem? You can tell me.”
“I’m alright.” Clearly he noticed my sceptical expression. “I’ll tell you later, yeah?”
I considered it for a moment, then nodded. The crease on his brow faded and he looked a little more like his old self again. He stood up, his head nearly brushing the planters that hung from the ceiling, and groaned softly, stretching out his leg
“Have you done your hip?” I said as I got to my feet.
“No.” He winced.
“Are you sure? Have you got your cane?”
“No.”
“Do you need me to-”
“Don’t need it.” He insisted, limping toward the far entrance and dodging the vines and low hanging flowers.
I knew I couldn’t argue with him, so I put a supporting arm around his waist and walked with him.
“You don’t need to do that.”
He only said it once, more as a formality than anything, and didn’t make me let him go until we had ambled all the way down the lawn to the shore of the black lake. We spent the rest of our afternoon in the wood grove, nestled in the mossy roots of the oak tree that we called our own. We were smoking reefer that I’d won from a Hufflepuff seventh-year in a game of gobstones, neither of us saying much. I was mostly content in the quiet, though there were times when the light caught just right and revealed the auburn undertone in his hair, and I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake. Why are you upset with me? Why don’t you love me?
His left hand was in my lap. I had asked to borrow it for some advanced palmistry revision, but I had long ago put down the book and took to idly tracing the scars that scored across his palm and wrist. I always loved his hands. They were long and rawboned, with nails bitten short and shiny callouses on his bass playing fingers, unadorned except for a braided leather bracelet.
His right hand was occupied with a flat stone that he had charmed to return to him when he skipped it across the lake. He sent it flying again with a jerk of his wrist.
“You and Sirius have gotten rather close.”
My finger froze in the middle of tracing a figure-eight. “Have we?”
“Don’t be coy, Ferney.” There was a sullen note in his voice.
I looked at him. He caught the stone as it came flying back and turned to me, his expression unreadable.
“Well, so what?” I bluffed. “Would that be so terrible?”
Face reddening, and took his hand back from my possession, rubbing it harshly over the stubble on his cheek. “Really, I thought you’d be a bit smarter than that.”
I gasped silently, feeling my heartbeat quicken.
“Oh, go on then, this ought to be good.”
He scoffed, launching the rock toward the lake. It clipped the surface at the wrong angle and plonked into the depths. He grit his teeth to keep from cursing.
“Well, for starters, you know what he’s like. Or do you need reminding that he’s put the moves on half the school old enough to take the OWLs? That’s girls and boys, Ferne.”
“Oh, big bad Sirius is gonna hurt me, is he? You’re not my father, Remus.”
He frowned, eyes flashing with wolfish defiance. “I’m not trying to be.”
“Well, you’re acting like it, aren’t you?”
He set his jaw and looked away. Finding no stone in his hand, he picked up a waterlogged stick and flicked it into the lake. The green water sloshed and rippled.
“Anyway, think about the rest of us, would you?” He glowered at the sun glare passing ripples across the black mirror surface. “If you fool around with Padfoot and wind up getting hurt, what are we supposed to do? Go between you like you’re our divorced parents?”
“It wouldn’t happen.” I realised something from this stupid hypothetical that opened a chasm of sadness inside me. “You’d all go with him, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t.” He said instantly, and I saw that his eyes were red, maybe from the reefer, but I could have sworn he was crying.
“Oh, Rem.” I whispered, understanding washing over me. “You’ll always be my best mate, you know that don’t you? Padfoot’s too. Even if there was something going on between us, we’d always love you the best.”
“There isn’t something going on?” I caught relief in the mix of emotions on his face.
“No.” It was embarrassing to admit.
“W-well what was that all about?”
“Nothing.” I flushed. “I guess I just wanted to suss you out.”
He rolled his eyes and muttered, “suss me out? Did you discover anything?”
I hesitated. “You… you love him, don’t you?”
“Who? Sirius?!”
“Remus!” He snickered. “Don’t laugh at me!”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” He sighed. “You never got it.”
“It was a good guess! Easier to believe than the alternative.”
“And what’s that?”
“That you’re in love with me.” I tried not to make it obvious that I was dying inside. “Likely story, huh?”
“Love,” He folded up his long legs and drew me into a hug. “You’re so harsh on yourself.”
“No, m’not.” I mumbled, burying my face in his orange checkered shirt. My high reached a new peak with the faint scent of cigarettes filling my nose, but there was an aching sorrow still bothering me.
“Ferne.” He drew back and looked over me with a probing stare. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, of course.” Maybe I said it a little too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He pursed his lips, fire flashing in his eyes. “This is about Prongs, isn’t it?
“Wh-what about him?” I bit my lip.
“He’s an absolute prick.” He spat. “Don’t listen to a word he says. If it wasn’t for poor Evans I’d say he wouldn’t know beauty if it bit him on the arse.”
“It's okay.” I amended, the urge to smooth things over too strong to overcome. “He didn’t mean it.”
“Course he didn’t, but he never thinks about what he’s doing. He just says whatever he wants for his own amusement.” He tilted his head back with an irritated sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if he even gets that other people have feelings.”
“He’s not that bad. Besides, it’s not like he could say anything that I haven’t already thought of.”
“Ferney.” H’s voice was rather stern. “You don’t think you’re ugly, do you?”
“I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“...well, maybe a little bit, but…”
He took a handful of my fringe and pushed it back from my face with his enormous palm.
“Aw, Rem!” I whined, frantically pawing my hair back into place.
“You’re beautiful.” He poked my cheek. “Say it for me?”
“No!”
“Please?” He broke out his puppy-dog eyes and my will melted away like dew.
“I’m beautiful.”
I barely whispered it, but it satisfied him and he planted a kiss on my forehead that tickled where his downy moustache touched me. His hand ran down my back and for one exhillerating moment I thought he was going to grab my arse, but instead he stole the drumstick out of my back pocket and brandished it, grinning. He tossed it up, and with a flick of his wand, it transfigured mid-air into a single red rose. He sniffed it, raised his eyebrows comically, and tapped it to my nose. It smelled like the real thing.
“Aw, Rem. I’m down a drumstick.” I giggled.
He rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like ‘ungrateful.’
“It’s beautiful. What’s it for?”
“To say sorry for being a jealous old bastard.”
I swallowed the rising lump in my throat and collapsed back into his arms. He hummed lowly and drew me tightly to him. On paper, it should be fine. We had gotten over the hurdle, the status quo was restored. We could go on being best friends, go on holding eachother until the world caved in. But. I still felt the thing unspoken like a third person in the embrace, cold and invasive.
“You’re still not right, are you?” His low voice rumbled through me, his chin resting on my head.
“No.” I whispered, voice cracking. “I’ve got to tell you something.”
I felt him tense against me. I drew back and saw him flush-faced and glassy-eyed, hair all a mess.
“I…”
He gave me an encouraging raise of his eyebrows, though his eyes seemed to be screaming don’t tell me! I swallowed, my dry throat grating against itself. I owed it to myself to say it, even if what I hoped for would slip away. Even if it tore the Marauders apart.
“I really like you, Rem. I don’t know for sure, but I… I think I might be in love with you.”
Shock was the first thing I saw on his face. The widening of his wood grain eyes, the parting of his eternally chapped lips. I could see the cogs turning in those silent seconds that passed. Faint in the distance, the three o’clock bell tolled in the high tower.
“Really?”
I nodded. He nodded back, his gaze darting between my eyes, searching for something. If he found it, I don’t know, but a decision seemed to tick over in his expression. His eyelids drooped, chin tilted, and his Lanky accent was thick when he spoke.
“On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?”
“Wh-what?”
He took a shuddering breath, cheeks redder than I had ever seen them, and smirked. For a moment he almost looked like Sirius.
“On a hot... summer... night..." He took my trembling hand and kissed my knuckles with each word. “Would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?”
My eyes trailed down to his lips, where his breath came in shallow pants. I wanted him, and for the first time ever I was certain that he wanted me. The absurdity of the ritual melted away.
“Will he offer me his mouth?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“Yes.” He breathed, leaning in to kiss just above my brow.
“Will he offer me his teeth?”
“Yes.” My mind melted into static as he grazed his lips over my cheek. Oh Merlin, is this really happening?
“Will he offer me his jaws?” My chin tilted up reflexively, yeilding my jaw to his touch, but it was the tip of my nose that he kissed.
“Yes.”
“Will he offer me his hunger?” At last, his open lips met my jaw, stamping kisses down the length of my neck.
“Yes.” His voice was muffled on my skin.
“Again,” I gasped. “Will he offer me his hunger?”
“Yes.” He latched onto a soft place just above my collarbone, a delicious ache resonating with the rhythm of his lips.
“And will he starve without me?” I buried my fingers in the thick mop of his hair.
“Yes.” It was a desperate, craving syllable.
The hypnotising draw of his mouth trailing kisses up to my ear left my inhibitions powerless, but there was still part of me screaming ‘don’t say it!’
“And does he love me?”
The golden question. My breath caught in my throat as he lingered against the conch shell of my ear.
“Yes.” It came with a warm sigh of breath that buzzed through my brain.
Eyes hanging half shut and swimming with desires long suppressed, he trailed his nose along my cheek, then nudged it against my own.
“On a hot…” My hand cupped his jaw. “...summer night…” My fingers worked circles in his hair. “…would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?”
“Yes.” Our lips were so close that we breathed the same air, but I still felt the heat of his words as he passed them into my mouth.
synopsis: a gloomy day in the library, a stressed second year and a gesture that was long overdue
warning: mentioning of copying mechanism due to stress
word count:
~ no beta-reader / not proofread / English is not my native language / possible grammatical errors (?)
☆▪︎°•○ just some creative writing ○•°▪︎☆
It was one of these days at Hogwarts where the gloominess kept the day at bay, the weather a complete mirror of a day that should be spent underneath a pile of blankets and a book to relax instead of sitting in the library to finish – yet again – a mind-numbing Herbology essay about the Flutterby Bush that served no real purpose other than to keep students busy. The clouds were cuddled up so close together, not even letting a ray of sunshine through the stained glass windows. The rain kept the whole room wrapped into the soft hues of various burning candles that kept each student accompanied, each candle offering some much needed light as well as a tiny flicker of warmth on this late autumn day. Rain was pouring down like there was no tomorrow. It seemed like that one drop was chasing the other, a never ending chase with no real winner nor loser. It had something comforting, something relaxing.
But a good library study session was never fully a good one without some people watching. The floating candles that covered each students face in a light golden hue, made each detail a little bit more visible for the untrained eye, but you knew more than that. It might seem like that the second year Ravenclaw student, sitting two rows away from the window, was purely concentrating on whatever was in front of her. But the way she absently fumbled with her quill and how she bit her thumb in a repetitive manner showed something else. You know the signs: stress. Something not so uncommon in the endless corridors of Hogwarts, especially if the exams are slowly creeping closer, but sometimes it just becomes overwhelming.
You slowly untangled yourself from your restless writing session, stretching your arms and legs to prevent the soreness – accidentally procrastinating way too long in that curled up observation position – from creeping into your bones. Each movement slow, but deliberate, like a well practiced routine showing that it occurred more often than you would like to admit. You swiftly put your quill and paper, which had more sketches than actual paragraphs, into your bag.
"Hey, little one. I would say it’s time for a break for you, otherwise I think your paper will slowly start to turn into a tiny sea of scribbled ink lines, am I right?", you slowly whispered to not startle her too much.
Her eyes widened, "Ehm, I –. I need to – need to finish this essay for – for next week"
"Don’t stress yourself too much, little one. Sadly, essays and homework will always be there until you finish seventh year, but it’s okay to take breaks. It’s okay to not finish every assignment once it is handed out."
The little girl nodded, and absently started to pack her study materials into her bag, stretching herself just like you had done it a few minutes earlier. She reminded you of yourself when you were younger, always studying and buried beneath books until the night started to fade into the soft hues of an early morning.
"Do you want me to bring you to the common room?" You asked gently, trying to offer her a chance to share her thoughts under the disguise of simple walk. Something you woul have needed when you were here age. A hand to hold during tough times, when studying overshadowed everything else.
"I am –, I can –, I don’ want to cause any inconvenience to you." She kept her eyes glued to the ground, her hands gripping the handles of her bag until you could see how the knuckles turned into a whitish shade. You carefully reached out until your hand was above hers, offering a chance to retract. But she cautiously let go of her bag handle to grip your hand like it was the only thing keeping her afloat during a storm. You smiled to yourself. Keeping her hand close to yours, circling calming little pattern to ease the burden of the constant nerve-wracking storm of thoughts.
"Let’s get you to bed, little one." You looked into her eyes, a gentle smile on your face. You opened the door, never letting go of her little hand, and nodded to Madame Pince to signal your goodbye, which was met with a mirrored nod to acknowledge your leaving. But as you were almost out of the door, someone abruptly knocked into you. Swiftly mowing past you without even looking back to mumble an apology. But sadly, that was nothing new to you.
