Remus Lupin who's constantly reminded that people find him intimidating, his big stature and the dozen of scars littering his face and body, the deep, gravely voice.
Then you come along and stumble over your words, can't look him in the eye and seem to be avoiding him. Obviously, you must be scared of him. So, when he tries to remidy that, being extra nice to you, making sure to smile instead of keeping his stern resting face (allthough that always comes easy to him around you) and bringing you coffee and yet it somehow gets worse he's just stumped.
Once, he mentions how you must be scared of him offhandidly and you get so confused. Blinking up at him, with a questioning look. When he finally explains his thought process, you start blushing so hard!! "Oh! ehm... I actually- I kinda have a crush on you... That's why- Nevermind. Just- I'm not scared of you." And now he's looking at you like :O??? This cute girl, constantly blushing and getting nervous has a crush on him???
Next thing you know, you're making out and he's caging you against the door with his huge frame in the way you have been fantasizing about for months and it's even better than you imagined.
I need to kiss him all over until he realizes that he's worthy of love
ok, ok, hear me out, Marauders finding out that Reader has a praise kink???
also do you do emoji anons??🩷
I absolutely can🩷!!! this one is a little bit shorter but i hope you like
James
with james i think praise would be a two way street, he loves praising you and loves to be praised. sex with him sounds like pure worship, a sermon of praise all night long.
james would find this out instantly, the first time you slip into bed together, he was there, singing your praises. it was sweet and soft, much like every time, but the moment he muttered out "you look, so beautiful, fuck." you were putty in his hands, falling apart.
he is telling you how good you feel, how amazing you are, and if he tells you he loves you while inside you, you're done for.
but the same goes for him. if you're saying how good he's making you feel or how perfect he is, he's filling you up until you are full, overflowing. throw in a little "good boy" after riding him and he is rock hard, ready to go another round instantly.
Sirius
ok... as i have said and will say until my last breath, sirius is mean. he is much more into degradation than praise, but that just makes praise from him that much sweeter.
he noticed how much you like praise, so he is sure to praise you a TON during aftercare, but during, he is mixing his degrading remarks with little praises.
sirius is usually fucking you to tears, saying "such a perfect little slut for me, yeah" while making your eyes roll back into your skull.
he calls you a whore or a slut, but he is always sure to add "my little" in front of it, claiming you and taking the edge out of the words, making sure there isn't as much of a sting in his harsh words. and it works.
as he coaxes orgasm after orgasm from you, hes saying something like "come on pretty girl, i know you can do better than that."
Remus
i think remus is the praise KING.
remus notices this quite early on into your relationship and doesn't bring it up, he just silently observes how your breath hitches when he compliments you calling you "pretty girl" and then later using this knowledge in the bedroom, throwing in a little "good girl". he can't help but notice the way your cunt flutters around him.
he is constantly reassuring you, telling you how good you are making him feel, how you're taking him so well.
no matter if he is soft or rough, he is making sure you are praised enough to be cumming on his dick with just his words. his tone of voice depending on the roughness, he is either commanding, saying "use your words like the good girl i know you are." or he is sweet and almost awestruck "fuck, so perfect for me."
i want to write a full fic on this now for poly!marauders
summary: remus had long established a routine of meeting you after class with a chocolate bar he unfailingly carried, only to learn, almost a year into your relationship, that you actually despise chocolate.
warnings: mentions of food aversion, remus is so fucking in love, tooth-rotting fluff, remus mentioned to be taller than reader, emotional moments, mild disappointment, lighthearted teasing, no major triggers.
authors note: this was actually sent as a request, but i couldn't find it in my inbox at all ;( masterlist
Remus truly, utterly felt betrayed.
It was as though he had been struck—swiftly and unforgivingly—by the revelation, as though the world he had so tenderly built around the small, consistent gestures of love had been rendered false in a single breath.
For nearly the entirety of your relationship, he had offered you a bar of chocolate nearly every day, without fail, drawn from the stack he perpetually kept within his satchel or coat pocket. It had become his ritual; his quiet devotion.
And you, his incomparably lovely girl, had always received it with such radiant warmth: a smile that could rival the sun’s gentlest rays, a kiss to his cheek that left him flustered still, even a year into the comfort of your love.
You would unwrap the chocolate bar with familiar eagerness and take a bite, your laughter trailing behind you as you walked toward your next class.
That was all it took for Remus to make certain he never left his dormitory without a piece tucked away—because the joy that bloomed across your face whenever you beamed “Thank you, Remmy,” before pressing your lips to his cheek, was nothing short of a reward in itself.
To him, that small exchange was a thread that stitched itself into the very fabric of your love story.
Which is why, now, standing across from Lily Evans in the quiet corner of the library, Remus could scarcely process the words she had just spoken.
He stared at her, lips parted, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and silent injury. His voice, when it returned to him, was low and flat. “She hates chocolate?”
The words felt blasphemous, treacherous, as they escaped his mouth.
Lily gave him a look that balanced both sympathy and exasperation, as if she had long anticipated this moment and dreaded being the one to deliver it. "I’m sorry, Remus. I thought you knew. Honestly, I assumed you’d figured it out by now."
He shook his head slowly, brows drawn in quiet confusion. "No, no, that makes absolutely no sense. She eats it all the time. I give it to her every day, Lily!"
"Yes, Remus," Lily said gently, her tone soft but firm, "because she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. She knows how much it means to you."
Remus stared at her for a long moment, and something subtle but significant shifted behind his eyes. "But I only ever gave it to her because I thought it made her happy."
"It does," Lily replied, placing a careful hand on his arm. "Because you gave it to her. Not because of what it was."
Remus looked past Lily, eyes unfocused, his thoughts spiraling.
He tried to recall every moment. Every time he had handed you a bar of chocolate with a gentle smile and a kiss to the temple. Every time you had taken it with a thank-you and a laugh, like it made you happy. It had felt like something sacred between you. He had always thought it was.
"How long have you known?"
"Since forever?" Lily said carefully, watching him. "Everyone knows Y/N hates chocolate, Remus. I thought you did too."
Remus exhaled, a slow and disbelieving sound. He pressed a hand to his mouth as if to ground himself. And then, faintly, as though speaking more to the universe than to her, he murmured, "I have been feeding her tiny instruments of misery every morning like clockwork, and she accepted it with grace I did not deserve."
Lily smiled, but her eyes were soft with understanding. "That’s love, Remus, and it goes both ways. But maybe next time… ask what her favourite treat is."
He gave a faint, breathless laugh, still trying to reconcile the odd ache blooming in his chest. "I will. Merlin, I will."
Which is how Remus, now two days later, found himself back in routine, standing just outside your arithmancy classroom with his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, waiting for you.
The hallway smelled like parchment and ink and something faintly sweet from the kitchens, and when you emerged—laughing at something one of your friends said—Remus stood a little straighter.
Your eyes found him instantly, bright and warm as ever, and you gave him that smile, the one that always made his chest feel too full.
"Hey, dovey," he murmured as you reached him, wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a quick hug. "How was your day?"
You beamed, already beginning to ramble as the two of you started walking down the corridor, hands laced. "It was so boring in the morning, but then Slughorn paired me with Mary for the new potion, and we actually didn’t mess it up for once. And oh, you know that weird Ravenclaw boy who always brings pickles to class? He—"
God, Remus had never been more in love.
He let you talk, content to let the sound of your voice wash over him like sunlight through a window on a cold morning. Your fingers stayed laced with his, as you gently swung your joined hands back and forth in that familiar rhythm you always slipped into when you were truly happy.
In that moment, with your laughter filling the space between you, Remus was especially happy to know that you were happy with him.
You suddenly paused mid-sentence and looked up at him with a soft frown. "Wait—what about you, Rem? How are you? Does your knee still hurt?"
His heart tugged at the way you remembered. He gave your hand a squeeze and shook his head. "No, love, it’s alright. I wrapped it up this morning. Feels much better today."
"Good," you said, then smiled when he reached into his satchel.
He pulled out a neatly wrapped little bar and offered it to you. "Brought you something."
Your eyes lit up at first, the way they always did when he gave you something, but then you blinked, taking the bar from his hand.
“This wrapping looks… different,” you said curiously, turning it over. “Did you change the chocolate brand?”
Remus didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you, his expression soft as ever, fondness written in every line of his face.
You unwrapped the bar, expecting the familiar scent of cocoa, but instead—
"Wait—this is caramel?" you said, sniffing.
"Mhm." he hummed, the sound low and pleased.
You looked up at him like he’d just handed you a puzzle you weren’t expecting. “Since when do you get caramel?”
He just smiled, slipping his hands into his coat pockets as he leaned a little closer, shoulder brushing yours with that casual, familiar ease that always made your heart skip.
“Thought I’d switch it up,” he said lightly, like it was nothing — even though, from the way he glanced sideways at you, it clearly wasn’t nothing at all.
You took a slow bite, still suspicious, but your eyebrows rose as soon as the caramel hit your tongue. “Oh! Wait—this is actually… really, really good.”
Remus turned his head just enough to catch your reaction, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “I had a feeling you’d think so.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, lips twitching. “You’re being weird.”
“Am I?” he asked, all innocence and wide-eyed mischief.
You nudged him lightly with your elbow, the wrapper still in your other hand. “A little.”
He laughed under his breath, then reached over to gently swipe a bit of caramel from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. The touch was warm and brief, but it made your breath catch just slightly.
“So,” he murmured, “does that mean I should make a permanent switch to caramel?”
Truthfully, Remus had sworn to himself he’d never let you near chocolate. Especially now, with the knowledge Lily had casually dropped like a grenade two days ago, everything made horrifying sense. The way you’d force a smile, the slight wince you tried to hide, the polite little nod as you bit into something you clearly couldn’t stand.
But you were also you. And so, despite that little white lie he was keeping tucked behind a caramel-flavored peace offering, he couldn’t help teasing you anyway.
You rambled before you could stop yourself. “I mean—I don’t mind anything from you, obviously. I just think the caramel’s a really nice change from the chocolate, y’know? But of course I’d love whatever you gave me. Really. I just think this one is, like, such a good choice, Rem.”
Remus blinked in surprise, then laughed—an unrestrained, genuine sound that rose before he could stop it. His heart pulled tight in his chest, aching in that soft, familiar way it always did around you.
Because of course, even now, even with your clear dislike for chocolate, you’d still accept it if it came from him.
You’d eat something you couldn’t stand just to make him happy. You’d sweeten your words, cover the truth in kindness, and act like it didn’t bother you at all.
And here you were now, flustered and stammering and still trying to be gentle about the switch, just in case it hurt his feelings.
He looked at you like you were the most precious thing on earth. “Well then,” he said softly, “I guess caramel it is, dovey.”
You brightened immediately, smiling so wide it made Remus feel like he could float.
You stood on your tiptoes without thinking, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Remmy!”
And as always, he blushed.
Truth be told, Remus didn’t mind carrying two different bars in his pockets now—chocolate for himself, caramel for you. Because in the end, he still got his soft little “thank you, remmy,” still earned his daily kiss on the cheek, and—most of all—he still got to watch you smile like he’d hung the stars just for you.
Yeah. The switch was definitely worth it, if only to become a blushing mess over you all over again.
summary: You and Remus are married, and it just so happens that Dumbledore has hired him to be Hogwarts new DADA professor while you already work at Hogwarts as Madam Pomfrey’s assistant.
pairing: Remus Lupin x professor(?)!healer!reader
includes: MAJOR FLUFF, you and snape act like children, remus being the best husband, the golden trio being the golden trio, making out, essentially everything you could find in any HP fic, minimal use of Y/N
a/n: I’m rereading the HP series and I forgot how much love I had for Remus 🩷
You and Remus had known each other since you accidentally tripped in front of him during your first year at Hogwarts—well, more like fell into his back on the express going to Hogwarts. Granted, you weren’t looking where you were going, but it’s not like he was supposed to be standing in the halls for that long. No matter, the two of you have always been as thick as thieves since then, and it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you began dating during your sixth year and eventually got married soon after graduating.
And when you had your heart set on becoming a healer—specifically one for Hogwarts—Remus was your number one supporter. He was your backbone during the NEWTs in your seventh year and during your training at St. Mungo’s. Remus was always there when you needed a breather. Then, when Dumbledore hired you as Madam Pomfrey’s assistant, he was the first one to congratulate you on the achievement.
Moreover, you were always there when he needed support, too. During the first wizarding war, there were so many casualties that it was impossible to count them. And when James and Lily died, you were the first to comfort Remus—especially when it was brought up that Sirius might have been the one to expose their whereabouts to Voldemort and even kill Peter when he tried to defend the Potters.
You weren’t close with James and Lily, but Remus was their best friend, and you knew losing nearly all his friends in a span of a few days hurt like hell. It took a lot of love and reassurance to get Remus to get out of your shared bedroom and get ready for their funerals.
Nevertheless, it was trials like those that made the two of you the perfect pair. But something always ate at your insides. Since Remus was a werewolf, no one in the wizarding world would want him to work for them. Even if he never told them about his condition, they could easily piece together why he would disappear from work every full moon.
Remus told you he didn’t mind staying home and caring for the house, but you swore you saw the light in his eyes dim a little more every time he came back from an unsuccessful job hunt. So—against your better judgment—you sought out Dumbledore after a term at Hogwarts, when another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had been sacked.
“Professor Dumbledore, sir!” You chased after him after you watched the last student leave the castle, smiling up at him with the same smile from your own years at Hogwarts. “Sir, I think I have the perfect replacement for the DADA position.”
Dumbledore hummed and waved his hand, lighting the rest of the candles in the corridor. “How many times have I told you to call me Albus? We work together, Y/N.”
“Sorry, sir— Albus.” You correct yourself before shaking your head. Twisting your wedding ring, you spoke up with a sparkle in your eyes. “As I was saying before, I think—”
“I know you want me to hire Remus for the job.” He cut you off, putting a hand up when you were about to speak up again. “I believe that’s a wonderful idea. And given what he is, I’m sure he knows all about what should be taught to the students.”
You beam up at him, “I’m glad we’re on the same page then, sir—Albus.” You correct yourself once more when he stares at you intently, your face flushing before clearing your throat. “Sorry, it’s a habit already… I should probably tell him—”
“Do not worry about telling him about the job, Y/N,” Dumbledore said calmly, patting your shoulder. “I will handle telling him when the time comes.”
What you didn’t expect was that Dumbledore practically waited until the very end of the summer holiday to inform Remus about the available position at Hogwarts. Every day, it became more and more evident that you knew something was going to happen. Even when Remus questioned your odd behavior, you simply brushed him off and kissed him silly until he forgot what he asked.
Well, up until Dumbledore told him.
“Dovey, you won’t believe who I ran into at Diagon Alley.” Remus entered the living room with paper bags, kissing your cheek when you took them from him and thanked him for buying ingredients you needed for remedies Madam Pomfrey requested you make over the holiday.
You furrow your brows in response to him, waving your wand and sorting the different ingredients alphabetically. “Who, Rem?”
“Dumbledore.” He stated and leaned back on the counter, watching your shoulder stiffen before they relaxed once more. Remus thought you couldn’t be more obvious, but he still played along. “He offered me a position at the school as the Defense Against Dark Arts professor.”
“Did he?” You murmur, refusing to turn around because you knew your eyes would give you away. You felt him get closer, his arms snaking around your waist, causing you to tilt your head in his direction, begging Godric that your eyes weren’t hinting at anything too revealing.
He hummed, “He said a little bird told him I’ve been lonely back home.”
“Lonely?” You scoffed and pulled away from him, putting your hands on your hips. “I did not call you lonely.”
Remus raised a brow at you—watching your face go from defensive to horrified to sheepish. He was probably more surprised than you when apologies began spilling from your lips, making him hold your arms to stop your rambling.
“Why are you apologizing?” He rubbed soft shapes into your arms.
“Because I offered you up for the job even when I didn’t ask you.” You murmured, pulling on the ends of your sweater. Well, technically, it was his sweater that you promptly stole from him one day. “I understand if you don’t want to take the position. I just thought—”
“Don’t be sorry. This is good.” He nudged his nose to yours, making you look up.
You blink and look between his eyes, searching for any kind of lie. “This… is?”
Remus chuckled and kissed your forehead, his chest rumbling when you went to wipe off the kiss in confusion, thinking it was a pity kiss. “Dovey, you and Dumbledore are the only ones left who still believe in me.” He shrugged. “I think this is a great opportunity.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Of course not.” He creased his brows together before balancing himself when you threw your arms around him, his hands splaying on your back carefully. Before he could ask, you spoke, your mood greatly improved from when you thought you were in trouble.
“I’m excited to work with you, Rem.” You smiled brightly when you pulled away, punching his arm lightly. “You’ll love it just as much as you did all those years ago.”
Unfortunately, you weren’t the only other employee at Hogwarts. While McGonagall was happy to have Remus as a professor—mainly because he was a star student back when he attended Hogwarts himself, and she trusted him to teach a class such as Defense Against the Dark Arts—Snape was anything but joyous to have him teaching a subject he wanted for himself.
“You have to be joking.” Severus drawled as he looked between you and Remus before his eyes settled on the headmaster himself. He sighed through his nose, “Albus, I simply cannot allow a werewolf to teach the students as you put them in danger—”
“Remus knows exactly what to do during his transformations.” You defend your husband, standing in front of him despite his warm hand on your waist to calm your fire, even though Remus wanted nothing more than to hide in the shadows of Dumbledore’s office. “And we both know wolfsbane is the perfect solution to his lycanthropy, Snape. Unless you want him to suffer just so you can teach—”
“Enough.” Dumbledore put a hand up, silencing whatever argument you and Severus had left. “You have been working together for several years, and only when Remus begins working here do the two of you begin arguing like first-year students.” He looked at the man mentioned with a soft smile before staring down at you and Severus through his moon-shaped spectacles. “While Remus teaches here, you cannot act like this, do you understand?”
You sigh and nod, crossing your arms while Severus begrudgingly agrees, somesort of grunt leaving his mouth. Still, the two of you glared at each other as if Dumbledore hadn’t said anything. Remus pursed his lips in discomfort and kissed your temple in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, causing Severus to finally look away with a grimace.
“I expect you three will be responsible and respectful this year.” Dumbledore finished in expectancy before sending you all out of the office with a simple wave of his hand.
The three of you descended his office, the pressure between the three of you still heavily weighted down until Severus spun around abruptly. He briefly looked at you before sighing again, his eyes trained on Remus with bitterness.
“Don’t expect me to be at your beck and call, Lupin.” He sneered before taking his own leave toward the dungeons, his cloak following behind like a foreboding shadow.
You scoff under your breath, “Arsehole.”
“Dovey.” Remus suppressed a laugh, shaking his head. “Let’s go home.”
The following week was hectic for you and Remus. Having to move his stuff over to yours—now your shared quarters at Hogwarts, and then planning lessons that the last two professors failed to complete. And when the students began arriving, Remus thought it would be better for him to take the express for old times’ sake, making you roll your eyes in affection at how nostalgia hit him like a brick.
But when you were taken away from the start-of-term feast to tend to Harry Potter because of a dementor attack, you thought the express ride was far more terrifying than nostalgic.
“What trouble have you gotten into this time, Harry?” You tut at the boy who always came rushing to you whenever he got cut by something magical that even Ron and Hermione couldn’t explain. “I swear, you’re always back at the hospital wing at the beginning of every term.”
Harry messed with his Hogwarts robes and pushed your hand away when you put the back of your hand on his forehead. “S’not my fault. The dementors came onto the train.”
You send him a somber look, “I heard all about it from McGonagall when she called me over. Let me get you some chocolate—”
“Oh! The new professor, I think Professor Lupin was his name, gave me some already.” Harry interrupted before you could shove more chocolate in his mouth. If he was being completely honest, he was getting pretty tired of chocolate already, and the term only just started.
“Did he?” You ask almost cheerfully, confusing Harry while he nods slowly, furrowing his brows when you clapped your hands lightly. Maybe it was because he was confused about why you were clapping about the attack. “That’s good.”
And before he could even ask, Madam Pomfrey walked in and checked Harry’s temperature and then heart rate, checking in with you about other important vitals. “I hear we finally got a good DADA professor. It’s nice to have someone who knows what they teach.”
“I agree.” You nod swiftly, making Madam Pomfrey roll her eyes in your direction. Harry looked between you two again, getting more and more confused with each passing second. “What?”
“Go down to the feast, you two.” She finally waved you and Harry off.
You tilt your head in mock offense, “I’m not a child, Poppy.”
She raised her brow, “Say that to me when you aren’t coming to me whining about being tired when the twins spell first years.” You feel your face warm at her words, but she continues. “In fact, that’s what your husband is for now that he’s—”
“That’s unfair!” You complain before catching yourself, clearing your throat, and scratching the back of your neck. She stared at you expectantly, shaking her head in amusement as you apologized hastily. “Sorry, Poppy.”
“Husband?” Harry turned to you once the two of you were out of the hospital wing, catching up to your surprisingly quick pace. “You’re married?”
It was quiet for a second, the words not processing through your mind until you were at the oak doors that concealed the Great Hall, where everyone else had already begun eating. You stop just before you could push the doors open, turning to look at him face-to-face.
“Of course, I am.” You send him an odd look, yet a smile appeared on your face. “To one of the smartest wizards I know.”
“Wait a second, do we even know who it is?” He inquired, taking notice that you were getting more impatient with all his questions. For once, you seemed more eager to get inside the Great Hall than he was.
“Oh, Harry.” You coo as if you were talking to a baby and pat his head, making him push your hand away again. “Let’s not ask the obvious.”
And with that, you pushed the oak doors open and entered the hall as if you hadn’t left Harry with so many unanswered questions. He watched you bound toward the staff table at the very front of the hall, taking your usual seat between McGonagall and whatever new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor they had this year, except the excitement he saw from you earlier only seemed to increase when you sat down.
What was even more unusual was that Snape’s glares seemed to be aimed at the new professor and you rather than Harry.
Harry took his seat beside Ron, looking over at Hermione. “Did you know Y/N is married?”
Hermione raised a brow at him and put her fork down, her gaze drifting toward the staff table along with Ron, who was busy stuffing his face full. “The ring on her hand wouldn’t suggest otherwise, why?”
“Because…” Harry trailed off before shaking his head. “Nevermind, it’s not important.”
Hermione and Ron glanced at each other before shrugging, although Hermione was already planning to keep an eye on you this year. Not that it was prudent to know who exactly you were dating, but if Harry mentioned it and found it a little interesting, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little investigating.
As the first term went by, it was more or less rough with how Remus was adjusting to teaching at Hogwarts, and with Snape constantly making snide remarks whenever Dumbledore wasn’t around, you were starting to get pissed. Even more so when Snape threatened not to make the potion for Remus one afternoon simply because you looked at him funny.
“Severus, it is completely unjust if you refuse to make the potion.” You hiss one day in his empty classroom, staring at him with nothing but pure hatred. “Frankly, I don’t care what happened back at Hogwarts when we were younger. What I care about is whether or not he is going to be okay during the next—”
“Is it unjust?” Severus narrowed his eyes at you. “I may be crude, but what if he is helping him get onto the school grounds?”
You scoff out a laugh, “I know my husband, and he would never—”
“Er— Professor Snape?” You heard a voice coming from the potion’s doorway, making you freeze on the spot. “Professor McGonagall asked me to fetch you for—”
“Weasley, can’t you see I’m busy?” Snape sneered before taking his leave without even taking any points off the Gryffindor house. You left the classroom soon after, leaving behind fury and annoyance from the earlier conversation—not even acknowledging Ron’s existence at the moment.
Against his better judgment, Ron followed you as best as he could, hoping you wouldn’t catch him in the act despite your indignant mood. However, when you turned west of the hospital wing, he saw a glimpse of where you were heading, only briefly hearing a voice before you slammed the door shut.
“Dovey—”
By the start of the second term, Harry, Hermione, and Ron still had no clue who you were married to. And it’s not like you were going to give them hints—you were always one to avoid talking about your personal life whenever they tried to pry. Honestly, they were about to give up by the end of January when Ron came up with such a crazy theory on the way to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
“You don’t think she’s married to Snape, do you?” Ron muttered as a group of Slytherins passed, rolling his eyes when he saw them trip a Hufflepuff.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ron. We’ve known them for three years now. If they were married, we would know.” Hermione shook her head in exasperation, adjusting her shoulder bag. “Besides, her husband could very well not work at Hogwarts. There are thousands of wizards out there.”
Harry scuffed his shoe against the stone, his voice uncertain but clear. “But Ron said he heard someone when she entered the faculty tower.”
“That could be anyone.” She shook her head. “Come on, we'd better get to class before Malfoy decides it’s funny to take our seats again.”
At the same time, you were cooped up in Remus’ office. You just went up to check on him one last time since the full moon was coming up soon, when one thing led to another, and well… It’s not like you were doing anything indecent, but it was enough to traumatize someone if they walked into his office.
“Okay, I have to go.” You murmur as you pull away from his kisses, laughing when he pulls you close by the waist, not wanting to let go just yet. “Remus—”
“Yeah?” He grinned and kissed you once more, making you soften under his touch.
Smiling into the kiss, you pull away again, putting a hand up against his lips. “As much as I would love to stay here and kiss you dizzy, you have a class in about five minutes, and—” You reinforce your tone when you feel him open his mouth against your palm. “—Poppy will come after my head if I don’t show up to help her reorganize our remedy cabinet.”
Remus lolled his head to the side with honey eyes that made you melt on the spot before you shook your head, already walking backwards toward the exit of his office. “Don’t miss me too much, Lupin.”
“I’m already dying, dove.” He grinned and followed you down the stairs, hands in his pants pockets as his room began filling with Slytherins and Gryffindors, the golden trio entering the classroom with curiosity. “The three troublemakers.”
“Yep.” You murmur with a smile, waving to the three of them as you head for the door.
Ron, however, stopped you from advancing, suspicion lacing his voice when he spoke. “What were you doing here?”
You shrugged, taking small steps toward the exit, glancing at Remus momentarily before answering Ron. Technically, you were lying to them, but they didn’t need to know your husband was a werewolf or that you were basically making out with their professor for the past twenty minutes. “Giving the new professor tips and tricks on how to deal with you lot.”
Hermione frowned, “But it’s been an entire term—”
“Have fun with DADA!” You cut the busy-haired girl off, finally taking your leave as Remus calms the class down to start their lesson on Red Caps.
Then, in February, you and Remus decided it would be nice to actually get out of the castle for once. Of course, since there wasn’t anywhere else to go, you landed on going to Hogsmeade for the weekend. There wasn’t an exact shop or place either of you wanted to go to, but it had been a while since you and Remus went out on a date without having to be needed by the students at every waking minute.
But it wasn’t like they didn’t approach. On the way, several students came up to you and Remus to simply say hi or how are you? You were both kind enough to respond, but truly, you just wanted to spend time together. And just as a first-year Hufflepuff named Julie left the two of you alone, you finally turned to Remus—seemingly exhausted by the number of students coming up to you.
“We could get butterbeer?” You suggested, your arm curled around Remus’ while your old scarf billows in the wind, the stone path covered in bits of snow. You carefully stepped over a pile of gray snow, nose scrunching as you spoke. “And then we could go to Tomes and Scrolls after.”
“I like the sound of that.” He nodded and pressed a muted kiss to your temple, guiding you into the Three Broomsticks.
As you entered, Madam Rosmerta’s eyes flickered up when footsteps entered the pub, gasping when she saw the two of you appear in front of her. Instantly, she rushed over to you and pressed a kiss to your cheek before doing the same with Remus, just as though the two of you were the children she saw dancing around each other’s feelings.
“Well, isn’t this a sight to see. My favorite Gryffindors together once more.” She gushed, squeezing your arm.
You smile and pull your scarf off, gingerly teasing her when she kept looking at the two of you in awe, as if she could hardly believe her eyes. “Stop, you’ll make me blush.” You wave her off, your own gaze shifting to pride when you catch Remus’ eyes. “Actually, Remus got a job at Hogwarts.”
“I heard.” Madam Rosmerta tilted her head with her own smile before gesturing for both of you to take a seat, wiping her hands on her apron. “I think a batch of butterbeer on me is in order.”
Remus raised his brows in surprise, shaking his head at the offer. “Please, there’s no need to—”
“I’m doing it anyway, Lupin.” She insisted and shooed you away, gently pushing the two of you away from the bar.
You laughed softly as Remus took you to a booth, humming as you calmed down. Tilting your head, you rested your chin in your palms and studied Remus as if he were a textbook you were supposed to be studying for an exam. He raised a brow in your direction, silently asking you what you were thinking.
“Seriously, though, I’m happy you’re here.” You say in response, eyes still trained on him. You feared that if you looked away for even a second, he would disappear. Before he could say anything, you asked him a question that you hoped would yield a positive answer. “Are you happy to be teaching here?”
Remus nudged your foot with his, a small smile making its way to your face at the simple action that filled your chest with his oh-so familiar warmth. “I would like to say so. The students are quite wonderful and are curious about what we seem to be learning.” He waved a hand around, a recognizable grin plastered on his lips. “And I guess it’s a bonus that you work here too.”
“Aw, you love me.” You chuckle, reducing to a puddle when he cupped your face and placed a tender kiss on your lips. “Remus…”
“And you know that is completely and utterly true.” He rested his forehead on yours and pressed one last peck before pulling away, acutely aware of how students from Hogwarts were gaping at you both.
It almost seemed quiet in the Three Broomsticks now, all heads turned to where you and Remus sat. Then, several seconds later, whispers began to fill the air. Some were giddy, and some were in repulsion at the thought of the staff having a relationship outside of the school.
“I think they know.” You mumble with a tiny smirk, thanking Madam Rosmerta when she delivers the butterbeer tankards at your table. Stirring your straw around the drink, you look around the pub as well, choking on your drink when you catch Ginny Weasley staring like she saw a ghost.
Remus shrugs, “They definitely know, but who cares, really?” He sipped his butterbeer, causing you to wipe the excess from the corner of his lips. “I mean, the other day, we nearly had the Weasley twins walk in my office while you were—”
“Enough.” You cover his mouth, face burning from the memory. Your next words came out in a low whisper, “I thought we agreed to never mention that ever again?”He laughed against your palm and kissed the skin there.
After your date at the Three Broomsticks, you were sure everyone knew that you and Remus were in a relationship, as there were students who seemed to tease you whenever they saw you walking in the hallway. Even McGonagall now had her fun at poking at the two of you, saying how she was the sole reason you even got together in the first place.
Unfortunately, Harry, Ron, and Hermione still couldn’t piece together that the two of you were married. Not until the three of them ran into Remus when he was on his way to see you. They suppose he was just visiting the hospital wing since he tended to be ill a lot, but he looked physically fine, confusing them for the last time, since Remus had told them that he would be busy after his final class.
“Professor!” Harry stumbled over his own feet when he did a double-take, taking notice of how Remus was actually walking quite happily compared to most days whenever he navigated himself to the hospital wing. “I-I thought you said you were busy?”
“I am, Harry.” Remus corrected, not even sparing a glance toward the young wizard. “I’m off to the hospital wing.”
Ron furrowed his brows and looked at Harry and Hermione sideways before speaking, “Are you feeling… Okay? I mean— You know… You look fine, professor.”
He nodded and made a sharp left turn, causing the three Gryffindors to crash into one another. “I’m feeling great, Ron.”
Hermione brushed herself off and quickly chased after Remus, not bothering to even check up on Ron and Harry. She was out of breath by the time she caught up with him, equally shocked at how lively Professor Lupin was today. Typically, they’d have to slow their own pace so he could catch up with them.
“Sir, why—?”
“Remus! What took you so long?” You call out to him when you see him enter the hospital wing, smiling knowingly when the golden trio walks in behind him. Waving at them, you shook your head, all pieces clicking together. “I should’ve known it was you three who would slow him down.”
Hermione tucked her curled hair back, chest still rising and falling from the journey it took to get here. “Well, we were actually heading to the library when we ran into Professor Lupin—”
You clicked your tongue when you looked at the giant clock displayed above the door, “Luckily, Remus made it here on time. We’re cutting it close with our reservation at the Gilded Griffin.”
Only then did the three Gryffindors notice what you and Remus were wearing. While Remus was wearing black, sharp dress robes, they didn’t even know he owned—for he always dressed in his shabby, torn ones—you were dressed in a maroon dress that they thought was far too fancy to even wear for any occasion besides a wedding. Ron’s mouth dropped open before Hermione shut it with the tip of her finger, but equally shocked at the way the two of you dressed.
“Ready, dove?” Remus let you take his arm, his smile softening as he looked you up and down.
“Always.” You nod cheerfully and pull your wand out, not noticing the way the trio was looking at you like you had both grown multiple heads.
And before you could apparate—special permission given by Dumbledore himself because he definitely favored the two of you over others—Harry snapped out of his astonished gaze and practically shouted at you like he was bleeding out to die.
“YOU’RE MARRIED TO PROFESSOR LUPIN?”
You break away from admiring Remus and tut at Harry, patting his head once more. Ironically, Harry was starting to believe you loved to treat him like your own child because of how often you did that to him. He pushed your hand off his hair, scowling a little when you spoke to him with a mocking tone.
“Oh, Harry… Of course, I am.”
Hermione’s mouth opened and closed several times before settling on something, “B-but how come—”
“If you ever asked what my last name was, we wouldn’t be here, now would we?” You tilt your head before smiling at them, watching the three of them look at one another incredulously. “I will see you three later. For now, behave and don’t go looking for trouble.”
And with that, you and Remus disapparted with three very surprised Gryffindors.
“Well, Professor Lupin. I think we really deserve this now.” You laugh when you appear at the entrance of the restaurant, propping your chin on his shoulder.
Remus pressed a kiss to your lips, “I couldn’t agree more.”
Telling remus “you could have been nicer to me” and he gets so offended and pouty
fem, 0.9k
“Oh, handsome?”
Remus stiffens a little at your tone. He knows you well, but not well enough to know feigned hesitance from real. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
He sits at the top of his bed, where you often like to be, shirtless in a strange turn but still wearing socks and pants. His torso is pale, dotted in freckles at the chest most of all, though there are a few darker ones along his shoulders. His fairer skin paired with the lighter tones of his hair, curling impishly behind his ears. The book he’s reading gets hugged to his tummy as he waits.
You wonder how best to wind him up without giving it away.
“Can we– talk?”
He is palpably unhappy with your question. You cannot wait to see how annoyed he gets when he realises it’s all a fakeout.
“Yeah, of course we can.” Remus stares at you. “Come and sit, then.”
You sit sideways on the bed, keeping your eyes on his leg so as not to give up the game. “I’m nervous.”
He softens, some. “Well don’t be, chick, just tell me what’s going on.”
Chick is a strange one. He uses it when you’re acting small. Like he’s further apart from you than he means to be, or like he’s- it’s almost protective. Reassuringly, ever so slightly patronising, without any of the associated condescension.
“I was thinking a bit about today.”
“Yeah?”
“And there’s…” You press your knee to his gently, without meaning to. “There were a couple of things that stood out to me, and I don’t want to be a priss, but I just think you could’ve been nicer to me. That’s all.”
Remus, to his credit, looks more worried than annoyed. “What things, dovey?”
“That’s not important.”
When Remus frowns it changes his face. He is almost Cabanel, a fallen angel full of growing contempt. “Right, but if I don’t know what I did, how can I–”
“It was less about the specifics. I just– I think you could’ve been nicer.”
“Right. Again, though, I don’t really know what I’ve done wrong. I actually thought I was well-behaved today. I didn't even complain when you said that man on the telly was handsome, when I really could have, and I–”
You can see him restrain himself from starting a tally, which is mature. If he were there sitting beside you saying such a thing when your relationship is as healthy as it’s ever been, you might feel some resistance, too. Remus had woken you up gently, kissed you sweetly. He’d made your breakfast and done the washing and helped you when you couldn’t dust the eaves by taking the chore from you completely. He is a good boyfriend. He’s a good man, actually. Very hardworking, and generous in love.
You feel actually embarrassed for such a silly joke, which lends itself to your acted-shame. “Sorry,” you say, ducking your head. “I’s stupid.”
There’s a small silence. A hand with freckles on the knuckles takes your hand on your knee, cradling it gingerly.
“It’s not stupid. But I can’t understand if you can’t point things out to me. I am… sorry, though, that I made you feel like this. It wasn’t what I was trying to do, but I’ve done it, and you don’t deserve to feel like that.” He draws all of your fingers together like he’s collecting them under his thumb and squeezes. “Can you forgive me?”
“Are you teasing me?” you ask.
Remus’ voice lowers a shade. “No, dove. Not teasing you, how could I? Don’t like seeing you upset like this.”
Coming clean isn’t as fun when he’s being sincere, but what could you expect?
“Remus, I am very very sorry, but I’m just pulling your leg.” You lift his hand to your cheek and rub his knuckles against the finest of hairs that flock the side of your face. His eyes have gone very dark, his mouth pressed in tight line. “I have tricked you. You are, genuinely, always quite nice to me.”
“Not anymore,” he says decidedly, pulling his hand from your grasp to cross it over his chest. “Sofa. And I’m not kissing you goodnight, so have that.”
“Fuck off,” you laugh.
“I’m dead serious. See how nice I am now?” Remus grins. “Best pack yourself a few pillows, though, that sofa’s murder on the coccyx.”
You laugh under your breath, slinking across the top of the bed to lay yourself over his chest and shoulders. Nosing at his naked collar, you smother anymore laughter, worried and then relieved when he refuses to hug you for a bloated two seconds.
“You’re a nuisance,” he says.
“Thank you for saying sorry, even though you didn’t know what I was talking about.” Your top lip kisses his neck. You screw your face sideways to be closer, forehead tickled by his soft curls. “You don’t have to apologise, though, you could have argued with me. I was trying to wind you up.”
Remus’ arms are like cords around you. You worm your way into his lap, just ecstatic to be loved and to have tricked him. He even laughs by your ear.
