#remus could have shared stories and memories

[act-more-like-a-dog-sirius]

This above all else is the clearest indication of how much Remus lupin failed Harry. Because he made no effort to reach out to Harry or be there for him or talk to him outside of what was necessary. Harry does not view him as a close friend or confidant. There’s only 2 occasions where Harry calls him Remus in DH but internally he still thinks of him as Lupin. And that’s because Lupin did not make an effort to let Harry get close to him, to establish or maintain any kind of relationship with Harry. And that’s Remus’ own fucking fault

The marauders in Harry's mind are called James, Sirius, Lupin, and Wormtail

[crimsntwlip]

scars | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: based on this request!

a/n: so sorry i took awhile to post this req <33 remus art creds to: @/likeafunerall on ig!!

| posted: 4/2/24 | masterlist |

you and remus had been friends for quite some time now, bonding over your shared love for books and late night conversations. however, there was one thing you noticed about him - he never liked talking about his scars.

you, on the other hand, had a few scars yourself, but they were nothing compared to the ones that marred remus's skin. yours were mostly from childhood scrapes and silly accidents, each with its own funny story or memory attached to it. you would often laugh and joke about them, but whenever the topic of scars came up, remus would quickly change the subject.

one night, as the two of you sat in the gryffindor common room, you found yourself recounting the story behind a scar on your knee from falling out of a tree when you were younger. remus listened in awe as you animatedly described the events leading up to the fall and the hilarious aftermath.

“ i can't believe you were that brave as a child,” remus said, his eyes shining with admiration. “i would have been too scared to even climb a tree.”

you chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “well, you never know what you're capable of until you try, right?”

you noticed a shift in remus' demeanor. his eyes seemed to darken slightly, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “is everything alright, remus?” you asked, concerned.

he hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, his voice low and hesitant. “i... i don't really like talking about my scars.”

you nodded understandingly, not wanting to push him further. but to your surprise, remus spoke up again, his voice barely above a whisper. “but... hearing you talk about your scars and the memories behind them, it's... it's nice. It's like... they're not just scars, they're... stories.”

you smiled softly, feeling a warmth in your chest at his words. “yeah, they're like reminders of the adventures and mishaps we've had along the way.”

for a brief moment, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you, before remus spoke up once more, his voice stronger this time. “i... suppose I could share a story or two about my scars, if you're interested.”

you beamed at him, eager to hear the tales behind the mysterious marks that marred his skin. as the conversation shifted to remus, you couldn't help but notice the way his expression softened when he spoke about his scars. he reluctantly shared a few stories behind them, but you could tell it was difficult for him. you made sure to listen attentively, showing him the same patience and understanding he always showed you.

as remus finished telling his story, to which he now regretted telling, he nervously fidgeted with his hands.

noticing his demeanor, you smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand in solidarity. “i think your scars are beautiful, remus,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his with warmth and understanding. “and i wouldn't change a single one of them because they're a part of what makes you who you are.”

remus met your gaze, his eyes shimmering with emotion as he processed your words. a soft smile played on his lips, and he squeezed your hand back gently. in that moment, you both shared a silent understanding, a newfound closeness that transcended words.

“thank you,” remus whispered, his voice filled with gratitude. “you always see the best in people, don't you?”

you shrugged modestly, a hint of blush coloring your cheeks. “i just know a good soul when I see one.”

the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire in the common room providing a soothing background noise as you two continued talking through the night.

[moonstruckme]

Hiya Mae!! How are you?? It’s been a little bit but I was hoping I could request a poly!marauders fic (+plus Lily if you’re comfortable with doing that if not it’s fine). This week is the 6th anniversary of my brothers passing and this year is a bit harder as I’m turning 18. Having such a milestone coming up and him not being here is sorta making me sick. I was wondering if maybe you could base the fic off of that? Or something to do with grief and them helping reader out. I’ve found great comfort in the abundance of love you portray with their relationship and I could do with a lil of it.

If not it’s totally fine don’t feel obligated. Hope you have a good week!!

Hi sweetheart, sorry I couldn't get this to you during the week you requested it. I was also dealing with a bit of grief at the time and it felt too raw to try for a while. I hope you're doing well and that you really enjoy being 18, even if those feelings are complicated by your loss <33

cw: mentions of death, grief

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 622 words

The sky is turning from deep blue to black outside when Sirus notices you’ve slipped into a melancholy. 

The only hint of it is in your tone. You’ve been quipping about the film you’re all watching like you always do, bouncing off his and James’ comments and Remus’ amused grunts, but there’s a falsity to the cheer in your voice. This is something you and James have in common; when Sirius or Remus are upset it permeates the area around them like a thick fog, but the two of you have a way of keeping it contained within yourselves, putting on counterfeit smiles. Sirius often wonders if it doesn’t hurt you more. 

He leans away from where he’s been resting his head on Remus’ pectoral, snaking an arm around your shoulders. 

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl?” he asks quietly. 

You shrug. Swallow. “Just thinking about them,” you murmur in reply. 

Sirius suspects this isn’t the full story, but he, too, knows the necessity of papering over certain pains. He doesn’t pry. 

Before the war—before Regulus—Sirius used to think that grief was the pain that came from the love you had for the lost person being ripped away from you. But even months after his brother’s death, all the love is still there. It’s amplified, if anything, every ounce of it demanding attention now that he can no longer take it for granted even a little bit. 

What went was the ritual of it all. The peculiar brand of happiness he’d felt around Reg, never easy but still there, buried beneath layers of troubled history and shared broodiness. The inside jokes they’d barely realized they had, things no one who wasn’t raised in their house would see the humor in. The surety that if they fought, they’d get a chance to make up. Sirius will never have those things with his brother again. In memories, maybe, but now they’ll always be tinged with the love so big it hurts. 

He wishes desperately he could keep you from hurting like that. 

He shuffles closer, awkwardly wrapping his other arm around you until he’s nearly covering your body with his. It’s like he thinks he can shield you, like he can protect you from grief after he’d failed to protect you from loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says. 

You shake your head, turning so it’s jammed in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Your face feels hot. “I don’t know what to do,” you choke out. 

Sirius squeezes you tighter. He gets it, but he doesn’t. He knows how it feels to grieve, but not how to grieve your person in your way. It’s an ache he can only approximate. 

“Sweetheart.” James’ voice sounds pained, and he gets up from Remus’ other side, rounding the couch to climb onto the armrest beside you. He rubs your back with one hand, the other coming to rest on Sirius shoulder, a comfort in case he needs it. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, my love.” 

Sirius feels a hot tear slip down his neck into his shirt, and James winces as your shoulders hitch under his touch. Remus makes a soft pitying sound. 

“You’re alright.” He latches onto the last unclaimed part of you, rough hand soothing up your calf. “You’re okay.” 

“Sorry,” you manage, and Sirius squishes you punishingly in his arms, pressing a staunch kiss to the side of your head. 

“Don’t be silly,” he tells you. James makes a half-choked sound of agreement. “No sorries, okay?” 

You nod, the bump of your nose moving against Sirius’ neck. He gives you another kiss to show his approval. 

“You’re alright, darling,” Remus says again. “Take all the time you need. We’ve got you.” 

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Brave Enough

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

genre: kinda angsty

el's thoughts: this is part one! part two will be done soon (hopefully) :)

The young girl’s screams echoed through the Potter’s back garden as James forced the training broomstick to go faster. The cold spring morning air whipped through their hair and past their faces causing Y/N to bury her head between his shoulder blades. 

“James! You be careful with her!”

“Don’t worry, Mum! She’s just being dramatic as always.”

“I’m alright, Mrs. Potter! I promise!” Y/N called back after smacking the bespectacled boy in front of her. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist as they both sat on his brand-new broomstick– gifted to him by his father against his mother’s better judgment. 

“Why can’t you just ride the extra one if you don’t want to go so fast?” He grumbled.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I don’t know how to ride it, you idiot.”

“Then learn how to,” he pointed out.

“I don’t want to,” she huffed. “Anyway, that’s why I have you.” 

James could feel her smiling brightly behind him as he chuckled. “Fair point I guess.”

The pair had been best friends since birth, given that their parents were all friends when they were at Hogwarts. The children had heard of all their fun stories and constantly looked forward to making memories as bright as their parent’s when they finally got their letters. They had a good few years before they turned eleven and each day felt like an eternity, but they always had their fair share of mischief and fun to pass the time. 

~

Footsteps pounded up the steps of the Potter’s manor. Giggles fell from the eleven-year-old’s smiling lips as she pushed open the heavy wooden door with a bit of a struggle. 

“I got my letter!” Y/N yelled into the house as she kicked off her shoes by the front door and slipped on the extra pair of slippers they kept for her. Euphemia’s laughter could be heard from the kitchen and the young girl quickly followed the sound. She ran into the kitchen and slid to a stop by the counter with a wide smile.

“Happy birthday, Darling!” Euphemia placed a kiss on the girl’s cheek. Fleamont Potter followed by placing a kiss on her head.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I got my letter!”

“We know,” the youngest Potter laughed. “We could hear you from your house.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Well sorry for being excited.”

“No need to be sorry about anything, Y/N/N.” Fleamont chuckled. 

Euphemia served both children slices of cake before she and her husband left them in the kitchen. James was quick to finish his slice and had started pestering Y/N for hers. 

“Shove off, you had your slice.” She grumbled as she slid her plate away from him.

He sighed and laid his head on the counter, waiting for her to finish. “We’re going to Hogwarts.”

Y/N giggled excitedly, “I know! Isn’t it exciting?”

“We’ll be leaving home,” James muttered into his arm that he used as a pillow.

“Yeah…” she sighed. “But at least we’re going together. We’ll have each other!” She smiled brightly at him and moved her plate back in front of her, silently offering to share.

~

“You’ll never guess what happened today!” James nearly bellowed as he strutted through the common room door and made his way to the other marauders sitting on the sofa chairs and couch. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and threw herself down next to Sirius. “Lily looked at him!” She sighed dramatically with a hand across her forehead. “Can you believe it?”

Remus and Sirius snickered while Peter said words of congratulations. James glared at the girl as he sat on the floor next to her legs. “That was my news to share.”

“Too bad,” she teased and stuck her tongue out at him. 

The loud giggles of Y/N’s dormmates sounded from the door interrupted the guy’s conversation. Y/N was quick to jump to her feet, nearly kicking James in the side as she caught up with the girls. “Save me.”

“We heard that!” Sirius hollered back to her. 

“Whatever!”

The girls walked up the staircase and filed into the dorm. 

“Guess what I heard today?” Marlene asked as she tossed her bag to the floor beside her bed and walked to the bathroom. 

Y/N picked up her bag and placed it on the blonde’s trunk. “What did you hear, Marls?”

“McLaggen has a massive crush on you and rumor has it that he’s planning on asking you out soon. My guess is within the next day or so.”

The y/h/c-haired girl choked on her breath. “McLaggen? Quidditch, future ministry worker McLaggen?”

Marlene shouted from the bathroom, “You’ve spent so much time with the boys you’ve gone stupid.”

“Oh, lay off her will you?” Lily spoke up with a chuckle. “It’s not her fault they were her only friends.”

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard she gave herself a small headache. “Shut up the both of you.”

“Right. Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you so you would be prepared.” Marlene strolled out, shaking out her blonde curls. 

“Prepared,” Y/N nodded with a far-off expression. “Wait. This is the first time a guy has shown interest in me!”

The other girls laughed at their oblivious friend. “Oh, girl.”

“That’s far from the truth. But it’s the first time one has been brave enough to do anything about it.”

“Brave enough?” asked Y/N, surprised. “I’m that terrifying?”

“Not you,” Lily sighed. “James.”

“James!?”

~

Hogwarts hallways were always crowded between classes, so it was no surprise to Y/N that she could barely make her way through them to reach her next class. First-years ran between the taller students, and sixth-year students ran just the same. Y/N avoided every nudging shoulder while she flipped through her Defence notes as she walked to her Divination class. 

“Y/N!” A voice shouted over the chatter in the hallway. “Hey, wait up!”

She froze in her steps and looked around to spot the source of the voice. McLaggen waved his hand in the air to grab her attention as he shoved his way towards her. 

“Hi, McLaggen.” Y/N smiled politely.

“Hey, how are you?” His bright smile made her cheeks hurt just watching him.

“I’ve been good-”

He cut her off, nodding. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

“Oh,” her eyes widened at his forthright question. “Um, I would love-”

“McLaggen!”

The boy’s face drained of all his color so quickly, that Y/N would have found it humorous if she hadn’t recognized the voice behind her.

“Actually, I think I have plans. Sorry! Maybe some other time!” His words were rushed as he quickly turned around and rushed down the opposite end of the corridor.

‘So much for being brave enough to do something about it.’ She spun on her heel within seconds and strutted over to the group of three who parted the sea of students as they walked. 

“You!” She jabbed her finger hard against James’ chest once she reached him. “You obnoxious, annoying, bothersome, appalling, troublesome, dreadful boy.”

“That’s a lot of words,” James muttered to Sirius and Remus who stood beside him.

“Not nearly enough to describe you and how I feel at this very second.” If looks could kill, James would be six feet under where he stood. “Just who do you think you are?”

“Euphemia and Fleamont's son?”

“Your mother would be ashamed of you right now.” Y/N raised her hand to slap his shoulder. “And your father raised you better than this.”

James caught her wrist before she could hit him again. “Woah woah. Hold up, firecracker. What are you talking about?”

She quickly raised her other hand and slapped him anyway. “I’m talking about you scaring off people who have an interest in me!”

The brunette shot a glance of pure horror to Sirius, to which he only responded with a shrug. Remus rolled his eyes and sighed, “You had this one coming, mate. I told you not to do it.”

Y/N turned on the tallest marauders and glared. “You knew he was doing it and did nothing to stop him?” 

“I-”

Sirius quickly cut him off in a weak attempt to save at least one of his friends. “We have class, so sorry, darling. And don’t forget, it’s James who’s been friends with you much longer than we have. Okay, bye now!” He reached for Remus’ hand and pulled him into a sprint away from the furious girl.

“Traitors,” muttered James.

The halls started to clear as classes went back into session. However, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to care about being tardy to her Charms lesson at the moment. Her anger cleared but settled into a tearful heartache.

James panicked at the sight of her teary eyes. “Y/N/N…”

“James, why?” she asked with a sniffle.

“I just didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

“But you can’t protect me from that. I want to go on a date and I want to be sought after like the other girls. I want to ask a guy out to Hogsmeade and not be turned down.”

“But Y/N-” James started but was quickly shut down.

“No James. You have chased after Lily every day for the last four years! How is it fair that you get to chase after my friend while I sit back and watch? The only guy I’ve ever hoped would show interest in me, only to watch him go after one of my best friends. Then I find out that you scare off everyone else.” A few tears had fallen from her eyelashes at this point. “How is that fair, James?”

He stared at her with wide eyes. “The guy you hoped would show interest?”

Y/N’s heart dropped to her stomach. “No… James, don’t do that to me.”

She groaned loudly. “That’s what you pay attention to?”

“Well, the girl I’ve had a crush on for years just admitted she feels the same!”

“Y/N…” 

“You don’t get the right. That’s just mean.” Her voice was so small and she felt so vulnerable. Before James could say another word she cleared her throat. “I’m late for class.” She walked away from him slowly, as if in a daze. She could feel her heart crack in her chest as she walked away. She knew that there were a million better ways she could’ve handled the situation, but now she had to deal with the cards she played. 

This wasn’t the end of the conversation, but she just needed a bit of time. Some time to breathe and straighten out her thoughts. She just needed some time. 

[idkjustlemmedrownlikerab]

Why Regulus dying was crucial to the plot of Art Heist Baby!

It really pisses me off and people say "Omg it's so sad that Regulus never finished the heist, why did the author have to kill him?! He never finished his life's purpose" No it's not,  because that wasn't what he wanted in life, he achieved everything that he wanted.

The story doesn't work if Regulus lives. Art Heist Baby isn't about the heist. I mean it kind of is, that was what drew me into the fanfic, why I read it. But, as I read it, I realized that it's not about the heist, it's about love, it's a love letter from @otrtbs, the author, to art history and to the fandom, and about the love of found family, brothers reuniting, and falling in love and all the sappy stuff.

But Regulus and the readers by extension, have always thought that it's about the heist, that it's about the infamy and being remembered, and that's how he lives forever, the heist gets him his brother back, the heist lets him live forever.

But then in Copenhagen, when he's literally dying, he's having this internal monologue, like, maybe I failed this heist and it's not successful and I didn't do what I wanted and I wasn't the best person, but I was loved,  I am loved and I have loved back, he says that he knows he can take that love with him wherever he goes, even if he's a damn star in the sky, it doesn't matter. He's taking that love with him, it lives on, and that is its own form of immortality. That's what Regulus had been searching for this entire time and even after Regulus dies, James is still there, and Sirius and Barty and Evan hell all the others in the team, and it's like even death can't defeat that kind of love. We see James talking to Regulus every night and recounting memories and keeping Regulus alive in a way, which is what Regulus always wanted!!!! Just not in the way he thought he was going to get it.

I mean, otherwise what's the alternative? Regulus lives and he's happy with James, and maybe that's better than living on an infamy and better than the heist because, well, he's actually alive, but it's not just about love. Regulus and by extension, the reader wouldn't have this moment of realisation like, oh, it's love, love is the answer. Love is what makes all of us a little bit immortal for a little while. That's what it's all about in the end. Not the money or fame or notoriety. Just love. And Regulus dying feels like it was the best way Nat could have driven that point home. Like plz look past the heist, what else is there?

Because Regulus spent his whole life thinking that this was his goal. Just one more heist, that's what he'd always said right? One more heist, this is the last one. This is it. He'll have achieved everything he's ever wanted. Except, it's not what he wanted. Because throughout the story, he gets his brother back, he gets Sirius back in his life after spending years in silent mourning dangling just as precariously as the daunting Degas in the bathroom, he gets his brother back. He sees Barty and Evan who have spent their whole life going back and forth, finally getting together. He watches them grow up and grow together, and he spends his entire life with them. He brings together this group of strangers, this ragtag team of random people that applied via a fucking poster about a lucrative job and watches them bond. He watches relationships form, he connects with the Remus through annotations and books and a shared love for Sirius, he organizes dorlene's proposal and wedding!!!!

He bonds with all these people that he never would have met if he led a normal life, and then he meets James. He meets James Potter, who teaches him everything, who lets him borrow his bravery and shows him that life could be so much more if he wanted it to be, which he does.

"I love you, that's all." His last words, love, that's all. Not the heist, not the drop offs, not the money or the fame or the glory. Love, that's all. He started getting involved with the heists to feel loved, to get the attention that Sirius got from their parents growing up. Some superficial kind of love, and his life ends after he gets real love, platonic and romantic. Love, that's all, not the heist. He died with everything he knew he always wanted but never had the bravery to attain until then. That's why he said maybe he hadn't lived a long life but he lived the best life he could have.

Nat literally told us the reason with Regulus' last words and all of us decided to turn a blind eye to it, yes, yes ik it was heartbreaking to see him die and not live in the house in Brazil with James but we do see them meet again in the epilogue don't we? And let's trust Regulus and the author both when they said

"in every lifetime?"

"in every one."

[marauders-brain-rot]

Jegumas - Day 4: Buying gifts - 581 words - @noblehouseofgay

Regulus was anxious. Far more anxious than one ought to be when picking out a Christmas present, but this was for James. Sweet, perfect, handsome, delectable James. What gift could possibly be good enough for him? Especially when he’d been raised with money and could literally have anything he wanted. Oh yeah, and Regulus was flat broke since he’d left his family.

Needless to say it all culminated in him pacing the floor in front of a too-relaxed-for-the-occasion Barty and an overeager Pandora to help him out.

“You could take him flying!” Barty offered in a rare moment of trying to be helpful.

“Yes Barty, I’ll take the incredibly talented English Nationals chaser on a fucking broom ride for his Christmas present. I’m sure he hasn’t ridden a broom only a million times in his life,” he scoffed, not stopping his progress in wearing a path in Pandora’s living room carpet.

“What if you make him something?” Pandora tried.

“What the hell would I make him?” He’d thought of the idea himself but this is where he’d always gotten stuck. Regulus hadn’t had much practice buying gifts, not ones that really mattered. He didn’t have to buy anything for his family members, it wasn’t how they did things. His friends had always been easy, straightforward if not underwhelming presents that he knew they’d appreciate in some way. But James? The one who sat firmly at the center of Regulus’s universe?

“You’ll think of something I’m sure,” Pandora said placatingly. “James loves you, if it comes from your heart there isn’t a way for him to not love it. Just, think of something that shows how much he means to you.”

Hours later as he sat at home waiting for James to come back from shopping with Sirius, Regulus was still trying to come up with the perfect gift for James. It had to have meaning, it had to show James just how much their relationship meant to him. He thought back through every conversation they’d had, every secret thought and desire and whim James had shared with him just looking for a hint about what it might be.

He was just about to resume his pacing when a picture of him and James on the mantle caught his eye. It was one Remus had taken when they weren’t paying attention, it showed them looking deeply into each other’s eyes with adoring smiles on both of their faces. As he watched the small moment in time replay over and over again, an idea started to take shape in his mind.

By the time James came home Regulus knew exactly what James’s gift would be. He would put together every little piece of their story, every scap and tidbit and memory he could squeeze into one book he would. It would show the love disguised as hatred turned heated meetings that culminated in what they’d become. Every bit of information he’d learned about James, every single reason he loved him all intermixed with the photos they had, all woven together to tell their story.

Regulus even had the thought that one day, possibly in the not so terribly distant future, that they might get to add and expand upon it. Add more chapters and more books to the story of their life together. Ones where they get married and maybe even have kids if that’s something they’d like to do. Regulus had never wanted them before, but with James he thought he might.

[dream-with-a-fever]

but i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm (snippet)

by dream-with-a-fever (me) / societysgot (ao3)

harry/ginny, oneshot, canon compliant, missing moments during OotP

“So, I take it that cave in the mountains outside Hogsmeade wouldn’t work as a meeting place with Sirius?” She said, bringing them back to their conversation in the library.

Harry shook his head. “Definitely not — how did you know about that?”

“I’m really into mountain hiking,” She replied, without missing a beat.

Harry gave her a quizzical look before her face broke out into a smile, and she laughed.

“I’m joking - I've never done it,” She said, with a snort, “Hermione mentioned doing it with her family once — no, Sirius told me about it over the summer, back at Grimmauld place.”

“You and Sirius talked?”

For some reason he hadn’t even considered the fact that the Weasleys had been staying there for several weeks before Harry’s arrival. Jealousy bubbled in him momentarily, at the thought of them all spending their summer together, while he was stuck in privet drive. They had probably shared meals, swapped stories, made jokes. He vaguely remembered the youngest Weasley holding court up one end of the table on a particular evening, chatting animatedly with Remus, Tonks and Sirius. She had almost seemed like one of the crew. He just hadn't given it much thought until now.

She gave him a quizzical look, and he realised he must’ve been silent for a beat too long.

“Yeah, is that… alright with you?”

He forced out a laugh. “Yeah- erm, of course. I just didn’t think — I don’t know.”

“Well, he’s cool. Got a great muggle music collection. You’d probably know some of ‘em? There’s one band — super good called The Beatle and—”

“The Beatles.”

“What?”

Harry suppressed a smile. “Never mind.”

“They're really good. But, he mainly talks about you, you know,” She said, after a beat, “Raves about you actually.”

Harry sighed, like this was a real inconvenience.

"Oh, I am sorry," said Harry, fighting back a grin.

"I told him, I said Sirius, I haven't got all day - but the man's relentless. Wanted to know everything."

“That must’ve been terribly boring.”

“Very," She hummed, noncommittally. "You know, Harry Potter — famously boring.”

“Glad you agree.”

“Well, we can’t have everyone inflating your ego now, can we?”

Harry spluttered for a moment, before she continued.

“Not that a bit more arrogance on your part would be bad. You could be a lot worse. Look at Percy.”

“Thanks, Ginny.”

“Very welcome,” She said, breezily before clapping her hands together, “Anyway — if the cave isn’t an option, and all the fires are being guarded…”

“Well…not all of them,” Harry said, a look of realisation crossing his face.

When he looked up she was grinning widely at him, eyebrows raised. It was then that he looked around, and realised they were outside the Gryffindor common room — the trek from the library was like muscle memory to him now, and still their arrival had come as a shock to him.

The fat lady was chatting animatedly with her friend Violet from another portrait when they approached; both shrieking with laughter like a couple of hyenas, passing a bottle back and forth of some kind of mead that most certainly was not from the fat lady’s portrait. They were completely obvious to the two students stood outside.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your study session,” Ginny suddenly said, scrunching up her nose, looking rather guilty, “I know you need all the time you can get, you know, with the OWLs coming up so soon.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Have a lot of faith in my academic ability then, do you?”

She choked out a laugh, whipping her auburn hair out of her eyes. “Not what I meant and you know it. Though if you hanging around Ron every minute of every day is any indication of your intelligence…”

“Pretty sure you spend more time with him than me,” Harry replied, looking aghast.

“Yeah — because he’s my brother - I'm stuck with him, aren't I? But you voluntarily spend every waking moment with him. I mean, think of all the brain cells you must have lost already…”

“See, that’s—”

“But there’s still time to save yourself from ruin, I reckon. Just gotta get back to the books.”

“Well, that’ll be hard, seeing as you got me banned from going back into the library ever again…”

She elbowed him hard in the side, and Harry looked up, surprised at the contact. But Ginny seemed unfazed - like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“I think I’ll take that chocolate egg back then,” She demanded, flicking a curtain of red hair behind her.

Harry scoffed. “Pretty sure you already ate most of it—”

And that earned him his second jab in the ribs. He glanced down at his feet, suppressing a grin.

Their slight cofuffle had caught the attention of the fat lady who now, having finally noticed their presence, began to complain at their frankly insulting dawdling (‘I don’t have all day, you two!’)

They parted ways in the common room; Crookshanks trotting over to the youngest Weasley the second she had stepped through the door; Harry making his way up to the boys’ dormitories.

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

(Unbeknownst to Harry, it was the best sleep he had had in weeks.)

[a-sunset-outside-my-window]

fic recs of the month

This is just a collection of my fic recs for the month of march, have fun <3

The Lab

by @de-sire-blog (de_sire) on Ao3

“I don’t get it,” Sirius says truthfully. “Remus is such a nice person, why does everyone pretend like he’s some kind of wicked stepmother?”

James laughs joyfully and winks at Sirius. “Are we even talking about the same person?” He holds out his hand above his head. “Big guy, about this tall, curly hair? Temper like a sleeping dragon? Smart, but a bit full of himself? Can kill you with his eyes?”

Sirius raises his eyebrows and laughs as well. “No, I don’t think we are talking about the same person at all.”  

A love story about healing, new beginnings and growing up. Academia! Romance! Shared cigarettes, cute cats, lots of coffee and the most amorous business trip you have ever seen.

the hare and the hound

by @steelycunt (aeridi0nis) on Ao3

‘He’ll never have to do it again, Remus realises. He can just keep being good, if he just behaves, he’ll never have to do it again, never with the dark and the bleeding and the crying. He just can’t give them reason to be angry at him, and he won’t, he hasn’t. And his mum is right – the drink does make him feel a little better.’

or:

Remus is a terribly behaved five-year-old. He doesn’t really think so himself, but his parents lock him in the cellar every month, so he must be doing something to deserve it. Well, not anymore. He’s got a plan, see, sort of. He’ll never go downstairs again.

Dusk

by @theresthesnitch on Ao3

“That’s not fair.” Sirius was crying now, and Remus swiped his tears away with his thumb. “This isn’t fair. We haven’t had enough time. It’s not fair.” 

“I know, love.” Remus leaned in for a kiss, and wondered if it would be the last. “I have loved you for sixty-two years, and it’s nowhere near enough.” 

Or

Sirius loses his memories.

Lupine

by @wolfstarbuxks (BayleyWinchester) on Ao3

Lupine adjective lu·pine | \ ˈlü-ˌpīn \ Definition of lupine : WOLFISH

Teddy is Remus' everything in life. He'd do anything for his son - including going to the same zoo, twice a week for a year so that his son could see the wolves that he had fallen in love with.

And if that meant that Remus got to met a sexy zookeeper, who was he to complain?

CONSTANT VIGILANCE and COMMON SENSE

by darkbluedark on Ao3

In which Alastor not-yet-"Mad-Eye"-but-still-quite-Mad Moody does as Alastor "Just Mad" Moody does, and brings a sneakoscope to an Order meeting.

~The kind of fix-it that makes so much sense that the fact that it isn't canon should be considered a plot hole in itself~

A Brief History of Dragons

by @eyra on Ao3

It's lovely up here; all meadows dotted with wildflowers, wind-beaten tracks criss-crossing this way and that through the fields, weaving inland to the pinewoods. The sun's hot on his back as he passes ramshackle stone walls, long since crumbled to piles of ancient rubble and scree, and then the path winds downwards, still following the line of the coast until Sirius finds himself outside an old white cottage, tucked away behind the hill with a rose garden that faces out to the sea.

Sirius moves to Cornwall for the summer and meets a rude, beautiful boy who is writing a book that may or may not be about dragons.

The Phoenix Agency

by LupinsChocolatePraline on Ao3

Sirius Black is excited to start his first full-time job after Uni, but this life change doesn’t sit well with his boyfriend who is difficult to live with on a good day, abusive on all other days. Sirius is good at pretending that everything is alright, he can even convince himself, but sometimes he wishes things were different. The problem is – Fabian is all Sirius has. Or so they both think.

Remus Lupin is a senior copywriter at an advertising agency, currently single by choice, and very comfortable with his unchanging daily routine, his familiar colleagues and his company-issued ergonomic chair that’s been his for three years now. When his favourite graphic designer is replaced by a twitchy, fresh-out-of-university Sirius Black, his peaceful routine takes an unexpected hit.

[v1lsxe]

THE CADENCE OF PART-TIME POETS DR INTRODUCTION

VIOLETA LANDIVAR BAUER. ❝cherry.❞ born on may 28th, 1960, her early years were shaped by both joy and upheaval. her childhood was marked by the profound change of her parents’ divorce, a moment that set her on a journey far from what she once knew. at a tender age, she moved with her mother and brother to the misty, windswept landscapes of SPAIN. there, she found herself immersed in a new world, attending a private school where the rhythms of life intertwined with her growing sense of self.

for eight years, violeta called the small town home, its rugged coastlines and soulful music leaving an indelible mark on her. but at thirteen, another chapter began when she was granted a scholarship to HAWKINGS INDEPENDENT SCHOOL in the verdant hills of scotland. it was here, amid the ivy-clad walls and echoes of tradition, that violeta truly came into her own.

hawkings became more than just a school—it was a sanctuary where she excelled in her studies, delved into her passions, fulfilled her duties as a prefect (a role she’d definitely never take advantage of in favour of harmless pranks and mischief in the future), and discovered the strength of friendship. lifelong bonds were forged in whispered midnight conversations, and unforgettable memories were etched in stolen moments beneath the starry skies or beside the waters of lake dubh. these years, both formative and magical, brought growth, laughter, and a deep appreciation for the beauty found in life’s simplest pleasures.

... . . . . NOW PLAYING... heroes, david bowie ˎˊ˗

❝ 𝒊, 𝒊 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏. ❞

when violeta first arrived at hawkings, she was assigned to ROWENA HOUSE and placed in a room with lizzie, a girl who would soon become not just a friend, but a sister in every sense of the word. for two years, it was just the two of them, creating a world of their own, a small, perfect bubble of companionship. but like most bubbles, it was destined to burst when a new transfer arrived, and suddenly their world wasn’t so small anymore.

he showed up looking a bit out of place—worn clothes, a hole in his shoe, and a sour look on his face as he wandered through the grounds, clearly unsure of where he was going. violeta, being the good prefect she was, spotted him before he could get too lost. without a second thought, she took it upon herself to give him a quick tour, guiding him to his dorm and offering him that first spark of familiarity in a new, overwhelming place. that moment, simple as it seemed, marked the start of something bigger—a friendship with REMUS LUPIN that would grow into one of the most important of her life.

as time passed, lizzie and violeta befriended the rest of the 4A boys, their group slowly expanding as they bonded over shared moments and late-night conversations. before long, four other rowena girls joined them, forming a crew whose bond would endure long after graduation. what had once been a group of unlikely connections slowly solidified into something stronger, bound by shared memories and the kind of loyalty that only years of friendship could create. the group wasn’t just a collection of people anymore; they were a family, and violeta knew that no matter where life took them, they’d always have each other.

𝓐ND YOU, YOU CAN BE MEAN . . . her home life

violeta lives with her mother and brother in spain, but the ties that bind her family stretch across borders. she often visits her father in london, especially during school breaks when she sometimes stays for weeks at a time. these offer her the chance to reconnect with friends beyond the ivy-clad walls of hawkings.

despite the distance, violeta and her FATHER have always remained close, their bond as strong as the bassline of their favourite song. his absence in their day-to-day lives is softened by regular calls filled with laughter and stories, ensuring the space between them never feels too vast. her BROTHER, just two years younger, is her most loyal companion. they share secrets with no doubts, what with their unbreakable pact of trust (they definitely didn't shake on it with blood when they were young) and understanding. he’s a byron boy through and through, taking pride in his role as a winger on the hawkings football team, and violeta couldn’t be prouder to cheer him on. her relationship with her MOTHER is just as profound, a quiet but powerful connection built on encouragement and love. her mum is her greatest supporter, always urging her to aim high and give her best, especially in school. of course, violeta would never tell her that her support started feeling more like pressure somewhere along the line.

𝓐ND I, I'LL DRINK ALL THE TIME . . . what she looks like

her HAIR is a rich, dark brown that flows in a cascade of waves and curls, falling just past her chest. it has a natural, effortless beauty that catches the light in a way that makes it seem almost alive. her EYES, a deeper shade of brown, are her most striking feature—deep and inviting, as if they hold a thousand unspoken stories. they draw people in, a quiet magnetism that lingers long after first glance. her SKIN, light but kissed by the sun, carries a warm glow, dotted with a handful of delicate moles that add to her natural charm. at 169 cm tall, she moves with an elegance that feels unintentional, as if grace is simply a part of who she is.

there’s a warmth to her that feels like the first day of spring—gentle, calming, and full of life. though she tends to be reserved, she’s far from shy. she’s not the loudest person in the room, but she doesn’t disappear into the background, either. her humor is quick and clever, the kind you don’t always catch until a moment later, and when she laughs, it’s impossible not to join in. she's the type of person people naturally gravitate toward, finding comfort in her presence and delight in her words.

❝ vita brevis, black. ❞

her smile is a quiet kind of magic, lighting up any room with its soft brilliance. faint dimples deepen when she grins, and her eyes crinkle and shrink into half-moons when she laughs—a sound that seems to carry the kind of joy that stays with you. she has small, endearing habits, like biting her lip when deep in thought or tapping her foot and drumming her fingers whenever music plays. every little gesture feels like a melody, part of the rhythm that makes her so uniquely her.

𝓦E COULD STEAL TIME . . . what she's good at and what she loves

ballet and cello ; violeta’s life has always had a rhythm, though not always one she chose for herself. ballet and the cello have been part of her world since she was five, her mother’s gentle influence shaping those early routines. she’s good at both—graceful on stage and skilled with a bow—but they’ve always felt more like traditions than passions. ballet continues at hawkings because it’s expected, and the cello is something she keeps up with because it’s familiar.

guitar ; she taught herself to play in her early teens, fumbling through the chords until they made sense, and suddenly, she had found her escape. rock and roll was the language she was meant to speak. playing guitar isn’t just something she does; it’s how she feels most herself, how she lets her heart be heard.

photography ; her camera is like an extension of herself, always ready to capture the fleeting moments that most people miss. she loves the way light dances through a frame or how a single shot can freeze an entire story. it’s her way of seeing the world—through a lens that makes the ordinary feel extraordinary.

playing card games ; she has a knack for cards—quick hands, sharp mind, and an eye for the winning hand. it's not just for fun; she knows exactly how to turn a good game into a nice little payday. whether it’s a casual match with friends or a high-stakes game in the corner of the dining hall, she’s always a step ahead.

running ; she’s not a sprinter, not a champion. but sometimes, when the world’s spinning too fast, she puts on her shoes and runs. there’s something about the rhythm of her feet hitting the ground that clears her mind, like she’s outrunning everything that’s weighing her down, even if it’s just for a few moments. it’s her quiet rebellion, her way of staying grounded.

𝓙UST FOR ONE DAY. . .

[ pinterest board ] set in 1975.

ib: hrrtshape !

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Random fic ideas

These are just random xreader ideas that I haven't started yet. If this interests anyone you can use the prompts/stories or just voice your opinions about them! Really just need them out of my head. (If you do use them pls tag me I'd love to read em 🥺)

Time travel scenarios:

- Lightning Era Reader goes back in time for a year, only to come back to a shattered timeline. Finding out that Barty Crouch Junior has broken everything to be with her again. (Hurtless by Dean Lewis)

-Marauders Era Muggleborn!reader goes back in time to Tom Riddles Era, where he finds out about her blood status. He tries to get a hold of this oddly powerful wix, only to find she's actively sabotaging his plans. (This isn't a Tom x reader fic, but it will center their relationship from rivals to friends, only for her to go forward in time once more and unleash a new wave of abandonment charged rage against the wizarding world) - (Hunter by Paris Paloma)

-Given the choice, Remus Lupin would go back in time and never involve himself with the Muggle!Reader he lost. Only in his plan to stray away his younger self, he meets her again. Truly to convince himself to walk away from the woman he loves all over again. (LOML by Taylor Swift)

-After James dies, the reader discovers a way to travel back in time to see him one last time, but she’s warned it can only be for one brief encounter. (You Said You'd Grow Old with Me by Michael Schultz)

Memory Loss ideas:

-Remus helps the reader Obliviate herself during the war, but before he does everyone gets together at the Maurader's one last time. They reminisce on their old memories and share their favorite times with the reader. Remus and the reader reminisce on what could and should have been between them; none of them noticing how much this all seems to be affecting James- who has been in love with the reader for years.

Normal scenarios :

- Poly!Wolfstar x Reader fic, after the events of Halloween 1981 Sirius is jailed- Remus and the reader have a falling out that results in him leaving. 12 years later they are forced to reunite for Harry. (Clean - Taylor Swift)

- James Potter will stop at nothing to stop Fred Weasley from coming around his daughter. The only reason he can give; 'he reminds me of myself.' (Magic! By rude)

- Barty x Tattoo Artist!Reader who can't stay out of his lap (I wanna be your Slave by måneskin)

-Slytherin wins the Quidditch cup for once, but what everyone is really paying attention to is how Regulus Black of all people, ran to Potter!Reader before anyone else. (Alchemy by Taylor swift)

-During the peak of the wizarding war, the reader is a Muggle who inadvertently befriends Remus and the others- learns about the magical world. She becomes one of Remus's closest confidants and helps him through some of his darkest moments. But after the Potters are killed and Sirius is imprisoned, Remus obliviates her to keep her safe from everything he had told her. This leads to complications, where she believes she is having flashes of a 'past life,' when the spell begins to fade. (All Too Well by Taylor Swift)

-During the First Wizarding War, the reader and James are are separated as he’s rises the ranks of the order, getting more missions and having to keep more and more secrets from her. To cope with her fear, the reader writes him letters every night, pouring out her love and worries letters she never intends for him to read. (What a time by Julia Michaels)

-Loving James Potter was knowing he'd give you up to save the world. Loving Barty Crouch Jr. was knowing he'd end the world rather then lose you.

-Fred Weasley fic about a Slytherin reader who never entertained Fred's advances. After the war, George sends her a post with one of Fred's old ideas books. Fred kept filled with jokes, pranks, and ideas for future products he never got the chance to share. Each page is filled with his personality, and she can almost hear him laughing with her. The book signed "for her, always."

-Sirius and the reader have always clashed, unable to see eye-to-eye on anything. But when he accidentally ruins her notebook in a prank gone wrong, she storms out feeling humiliated and hurt. Sirius, surprisingly, follows her to apologize.

-James and the reader are fierce rivals in the dueling club, always challenging each other to duels that usually end in both bruised egos and bruised bodies. But one night, after a particularly intense duel, James notices the reader is hurt and insists on helping her. (Much to no one but the reader's surprise)

-As captains of rival Quidditch teams, James and the reader have always been fiercely competitive, constantly taunting each other and getting into shouting matches on the pitch. When she beats him in a close match, he becomes noticeably sour and can’t hide his jealousy when other players congratulate her. "Why do you like everyone but me?"

- Sirius doesn't know what he hates more, your attitude or you going to the winter formal with Evan Rosier and not him.

- James Potter has always been a thorn in your side, with his constant flirting and his annoying cocky attitude. But when he starts to flirt and playfully banter with Lily Potter you can't stand it, but James just loves your reaction

[wizardingworldlibrary]

Getting Together (2) Masterlist

part one

A Hag, a Hex, a Tale of Redemption (ao3) - aibidil draco/harry E, 43k

Summary: A fuck-or-die fairytale in which Draco Malfoy lives a despicable and unapologetic life — that is, until he's cursed to die unless he can fall in love with and fuck Harry Potter.

Annoyance (ao3) - TheMightyFlynn angelina/fred G, 1k

Summary: He was an annoyance and she didn't know why she liked him. But she really did.

A Weasel in the Hamptons (ao3) - peachpety draco/ron E, 15k

Summary: When Ron heads to the Hamptons for Hermione’s engagement celebration, it’s been 10 years since he’s seen his friends. At 38, he’s content to travel the world, unfettered and carefree, allowing his wanderlust to guide him from one photojournalism assignment to the next. He arrives at Blaise’s posh beach estate ready to catch up with old friends, kick back poolside with a beer, and have some fun in the sun. What could possibly disrupt his weekend?

Enter Draco Malfoy—the gorgeous prat who handles a stick shift with ease, speaks French, and surfs like a Seeker flies.

And who just may be the anchor Ron isn’t aware he needs.

Dreaming Skies (ao3) - sweet_s0rr0w, tackytiger draco/ron E, 20k

Summary: Draco's life is going nowhere, so when Charlie Weasley offers him a job out on his reserve, Draco doesn't think twice before booking a Portkey. After all, it's not as if he has many other options. But when he arrives in Romania, he realises that nothing is quite what he expected…

(a story about dragons and baking, friendship and little kindnesses, putting down new roots and falling in love)

falling into place (ao3) - charmingwillow james/lily T, 14k

Summary: Lily overhears something that maybe she shouldn't have.. things sort of happen from there.

Falling like a Snowflake (ao3) - GhostIsReading marcus/harry T, 2k

Summary: Marcus Flint gives Harry a box of chocolates unaware that they are laced with a potion.

Five Times Dean and Seamus Don't Go For It, and One Time They Do (ao3) - starkidpatronus seamus/dean T, 5k

Summary: “Hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you.” -- F. Scott Fitzgerald

Dean & Seamus, throughout the years, tortured by a series of almost moments.

for a pessimist, i'm pretty optimistic (ao3) - Annerb harry/ginny T, 6k

Summary: Ginny and Harry are forced to share a bed. Of course everything just gets more out of hand from there.

Here Now, Gone Yesterday (or Back To The Future) (ao3) - nerakrose teddy/james, sirius/remus G, 21k

Summary: Teddy and James are in the middle of breaking up when Remus and Sirius - teenaged, travellers from the past - drop into their life.

Holidate (ao3) - danpuff draco/ron, pansy/ginny T, 11k

Summary: Draco and Ginny aren't ready to come out, so they decide to "date" for the holiday.

It's Friday (I'm in Love) (ao3) - punk_rock_yuppie draco/harry, hermione/ron, hannah/neville E, 16k

Summary: At first, Draco only hangs out with them on Fridays after work; then he starts shagging Potter after pub nights. Then all the rest of the gang tries to befriend Draco and even worse, Potter tries to date him. It’s an absolute disaster, if you ask Draco.

Or, Draco and Harry fall in love over the course of several Fridays and some other days of the week.

Kiss (ao3) - xErised draco/harry T, 10k

Summary: For the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, it's not Ron that Harry rescues from the Great Lake, but Draco Malfoy. Hogwarts-era.

Like a Hero (ao3) - aibidil harry/ginny T, 1k

Summary: Perpetually stuck on the periphery of Harry's inner circle, Neville has always felt like an onlooker. But when Harry leaves and war comes to Hogwarts, it's up to Neville—and Ginny—to redefine what a hero looks like.

Patronus Material (ao3) - OgdensOldFirewhiskey james/lily T, 8k

Summary: Well, this is a bit grim, isn’t it? Lily thought. She couldn’t think of a single happy memory. Was her life truly this mundane?

Lily has trouble conjuring a Patronus until she thinks about a spectacled idiot with messy black hair. Have some seventh-year, canon-compliant, Jily.

Strength of Heart (ao3) - Kicon seamus/dean, lavender/parvati T, 51k

Summary: A coming of age story that follows Seamus Finnigan through his years at Hogwarts as he becomes the man he was always meant to be. He'll have to face transphobia, bullying, and his own darkest fears, but lifelong love and friendship may just be waiting for him at the end of it.

Sugarplum (ao3) - mallstars draco/harry E, 27k

Summary: The air crackled as it busied itself shifting around molecules, making way for a hefty slab of magic, and then there it was: the Knight Bus, squeezed neatly into a pocket of Wizarding space among stagnant Muggle buses, vibrant violet amidst a string of cherry red. The door sprang open.

"Draco," said Potter, a little breathless, a little cheerful. He smelled of coconut lotion, Cockroach Clusters and a sloppy ironing charm. Lifting one hand off the steering wheel, Potter gave a small wave. He wore gloves. Fingerless, the leather black against the sunlight. Leather. In August.

Testing. One, Two...Three? (ao3) - teh_kris_eh hermione/fred T, 4k

Summary: Hermione agrees to help with product testing for one of Fred and George's newest creations. Unsurprisingly, things don't go quite as planned...

(Un)wanted (ao3) - aibidil draco/harry E, 36k

Summary: Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

[lupinmoonlight]

Submission Part 4: Edge

Masterlist AO3 Submission Part 1 Submission Part 2: Establishing Rules Submission Part 3: Obedience

Summary - You sit in Professor Lupin's lap as he edges you with his fingers. You end up losing your v-card to him as well. (5,013 words)

Warnings - smut, teacher/student relationship, heavy D/s undertones, professor/sir kink, rules, fingering, LOTS of "good girl" and "Yes, Sir", age gap obviously, loss of virginity, teasing, edging, mentions of bruises and marking, very light innocence kink if you squint, choking, my grammar (english is not my first language).

Notes - This is not proof-read. So sorry for being MIA. I was burnt out from university and stuff. I still am but I wanted to finish this. I also have 5 hours of sleep left before I have to get up as I am writing this lol. This one is a bit different as I tried to incorporate more of how Remus feels and thinks.

Left alone in the quiet confines of his quarters, Remus sat back in his armchair, his mind racing. He was more than aware that what he was doing was dangerous, was wrong. He was aware of the risks, the potential fallout if you were ever discovered. His career, his reputation, everything could be destroyed in an instant. 

Yet, that day you came to him, desperate for guidance, for dominance, he couldn't say no. There was an undeniable attraction, a pull towards you that he couldn't ignore. He knew that if it hadn't been him, it would have been someone else. Someone inexperienced, someone who could take advantage of your vulnerability, your innocence, and it filled him with a protective rage. He preferred having you explore this part of yourself with him, in a safe environment where he could ensure your consent...or at least that's what he liked to tell himself.  

Remus had always prided himself on his self-control, his restraint. He was known for his moral compass, for his respect towards his students. But with you, all his rules seemed to evaporate. The intoxicating mix of your innocence, your submission, your desire, was too overwhelming to resist. 

Every moment of your encounter replayed in his mind as he sat in his armchair. Your flushed cheeks, your trembling hands, the way you'd looked at him with such trust and submission. The memory of you kneeling before him, of you looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, was enough to make him hard again. The way you'd whispered 'Yes, Sir', the vulnerability in your voice, made his heart race. He could still feel the softness of your lips as he grazed his thumb over them, the warmth of your mouth around his shaft, could still taste you on his lips...taste himself on your lips. The marks he left on your neck and back, a visible sign of your shared secret, would be a constant reminder of his dominance, of what you'd done, of what you were about to explore. 

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the dark ceiling. He was in deep, and there was no turning back now. 

~

You made your way to DADA the next day trying your best to look as normal as possible. You were normal after all, and no one had any reason to suspect you had been on your knees before Professor Lupin the night before, gagging around him and swallowing him down. You couldn't even let your thoughts wander there. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and walked in the classroom like the most normal student ever. 

The moment you stepped into the classroom, his eyes fell on you. You did your best to look as innocent as ever, your eyes bright, your cheeks flushed with the morning chill. But the short skirt that hugged your hips, hiked up just enough to reveal laced stockings clinging to your thighs, told a different story, whispered secrets only the two of you shared. Your professor took a moment to appreciate the sight, practically devouring you with his gaze, his pulse quickening, his palms itching to touch, to explore. But no- he had to maintain his control- that was what you had asked of him, after all. 

Throughout the class, neither of you could focus on anything else but each other. Every time he looked at you, his gaze lingered longer than it should, tracing the curve of your neck, the shape of your lips. He didn't care how obvious his stare was, how inappropriate it might seem, how predatory it was. He noticed the way your eyes lowered when your gazes met, the faint blush on your cheeks, the subtle shift of your skirt as you crossed and uncrossed your legs. Each small action was a dangerous dance on the edge of forbiddance. He wanted you, needed you. His mind was filled with thoughts of you. Of how he could take you right then and there, on one of the desks. And you, you would just bend over for him, self-respect completely forgotten, dignity gone. 

After class ended, he found his voice, a low, steady command that made your stomach jump, your knees weak: "Y/N, would you stay behind for a moment?" 

Once the room was emptied, the sounds of chairs scraping and students chattering fading away, you found yourself alone with him. He sat on the edge of his desk, his legs spread, silently inviting you to step into the space between them. The air was thick with tension, anticipation, the room suddenly too small for the two of you. 

When you were within reach, he reached out, his fingers finding your waist, pulling you closer. He watched as your eyes widened slightly, your breath hitching as he pulled you against him. He could tell how he affected you, and he loved every moment of it. 

"Look at me," he ordered softly, his gaze unyielding. When you hesitated, he repeated his command, his voice just a notch firmer, "Look at me." 

Slowly, your eyes met his, hesitant yet trusting. His hand moved from your waist to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the lace of your stockings, causing you to shudder slightly. 

"I want these on you tonight when you come to my quarters," he told you, his voice husky. It was an order, a declaration of what was to come. "Understood?"

"Yes, Sir", you whispered, your voice shaky. 

He smiled at you, a small, appreciative smile with a softness only he could mutter. "Good girl," he praised. "Now go, and behave yourself today." 

With that, he released you and you walked away, your steps slightly unsteady, feeling intoxicated by the power he had over you. The arrangement was not supposed to hinder your academic success- yet, your mind was consumed by the memory of kneeling on the floor of his quarters, his length hitting the back of your throat. Everything had become a blur since then. Despite the rules he had established for you, you would never admit to him he had such an effect on you, the fear of losing the sweet feeling of being owned, dominated, too intoxicating, too good.

You were not surprised by your feelings. You were a horny teenager, after all. Inexperienced, desperate, touch-starved. And there was something about the way Professor Lupin held himself that made you want to surrender completely. He was attractive, yes. But it was more than that. It was the kindness in his eyes that made you know you would be safe with him. His quiet strength telling you he could be in charge, take control, make it hurt good, make you cry, make you beg, all the while making you feel like he was the safest, comfiest place in the world. 

Remus, on the other hand, had not anticipated the thrill he would be getting from this, from you. For the rest of the day, he had found himself caught in a heady mix of anticipation and unease, his mind never straying far from what was to come this evening, from what he wanted to do to you, with you. The knowledge that what you were doing was ethically wrong, taboo, only seemed to amplify his anticipation. He was acutely aware that he was crossing boundaries he had set for himself long ago. Yet, the intoxicating allure of the forbidden made every stolen moment feel even more intense. 

Later that evening, in the silence of his quarters, Professor Lupin sat in his armchair, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm on the armrest. He was nervous, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. He felt like a teenager again, debating what he was going to wear. Did it really matter? He doubted his clothes would stay on long enough. Still, he opted for something casual- comfortable grey trousers, a simple shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a loosely tied tie hanging around his neck. 

Your nervous knock on his door snapped him out of his reverie. He was by the door in an instant, pulling it open to reveal you standing there. Your eyes wide, and your cheeks flushed in a way that made his heart pound in his chest. You were dressed just as he had instructed, your short skirt revealing the laced stockings from that morning. The lack of any underwear was invisible to the eye but he knew, and the thought sent a jolt of excitement through him. Your blouse was slightly see-through, the white fabric revealing just a hint of the mark he had left on your back. You looked every bit the innocent schoolgirl that you were (or that you pretended to be), and yet undeniably alluring. 

"Come in," he beckoned, stepping aside to let you enter. His gaze was intense, almost predatory, but not unkind, silently communicating his pleasure at your obedience. He guided you towards the armchair positioned opposite to his own. 

"Sit," he ordered. You obeyed, your steps hesitant. You could feel his gaze lingering on you as you settled down on the chair, drinking in the sight of you in the outfit he had chosen. 

"You look beautiful," he finally said. There was a note of genuine admiration in his tone, an honesty that was impossible to ignore. You couldn't help but blush. You wanted to return the compliment, but you couldn't find your voice, suddenly too nervous to speak. Your reaction did not go unnoticed and he gave a soft smile, satisfied with the effect he had on you. 

"How was your day?" he began, his tone casual, as if you were merely two friends catching up yet his eyes were studying you intently. 

"Fine, Sir," you lied hesitantly.

He noticed the hesitation immediately and raised an eyebrow. "Just fine?" He continued, his voice holding a note of intrigue. "Did you eat properly?" he continued. 

You nodded, stuttering a "Mostly, Sir." 

"And did you pay attention in your classes?" He asked. He knew the answer would be no, but he wanted to see if you would be honest with him. 

You bit your lip, obviously flustered. "I...I couldn't concentrate...Sir."

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Couldn't concentrate?" He echoed your words, a hint of concern coloring his tone. "Did you complete your homework, at least?"

Again, you hesitated for a moment before responding a timid "I tried to, Sir." 

There was a silence as he digested your words, his eyes boring into yours. "If this...arrangement of ours interferes with your academics, or your health, it will end immediately," he stated, his voice firm. "Do you understand?"

You nodded, a soft 'Yes, Sir' escaping your lips. 

"Good," he approved, letting the stern façade slip away, replaced by an expression of anticipation. He took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, the nervous girl in laced stockings, awaiting his command. 

"Come here," he beckoned, leaning back in his chair and patting his lap. The command went straight between your legs. You hesitated, not trusting yourself to stand, but you obeyed, moving to sit in his lap. His hand immediately settled on your waist, steadying you. The other hand rested on your knee, his fingers gently tracing the fabric of your stockings until they reached the line of lace adorning the middle of your thigh. He let out a soft, approving hum as he appreciated your obedience to his request. 

"Good girl," he praised, his voice lowering into a whisper, stirring a thrilling shiver down your spine. His hand slid further up your thigh, disappearing under your skirt. He let his hand wander even higher, his fingers ghosting over your bare skin, noticing the lack of underwear. You squirmed, your body arching instinctively towards him. Your movements elicited a soft gasp from him and you could feel his length hardening against you. 

The hand that was resting on your waist snaked up to your neck and then reached to gently grab your chin, turning your face towards him, his thumb grazing your lips, pressing into your mouth. You obediently started sucking on it, your eyes never leaving his. The sight of you, eyes wide and innocent, your mouth working over his thumb, made his erection twitch in the confine of his trousers. 

He slowly withdrew his thumb, trailing it across your cheek, before tangling his fingers into your hair, tilting your head back slightly. His lips hovered mere millimeters away from yours, your breaths mingling. "Are you going to be a good girl for me?" he asked, his voice barely more than a husky whisper. "Are you going to do as you're told?" 

You nodded eagerly, unable to trust your voice again. He let out a soft chuckle, seeing how flustered he could make you with only a few words and touches. He tugged on your hair, pulling your head back just enough to expose your throat. He pressed the softest kiss below your ear, before sucking a mark there. His. His mark. His territory. 

This was too much, you wanted more, needed more. You arched further into his touch, straining for a hint of contact, a fraction more pressure from his hand from his hand that had remained teasingly still under your skirt. But the man was not one to be rushed. 

"Now, now. Have we forgotten our manners already?" he gently scolded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in an amused smile. His movements stilled completely, effectively freezing you in your tracks. He savored the sight of you: flushed, desperate, and teetering on the edge. 

"Use your words, ask nicely," he urged you. 

His directive sent a rush of warmth through you. You were flustered, your words stumbling out in a breathless rush, "Please..."

"Please, what?" he prodded, a soft chuckle escaping him again. The pleasure he took from your desperation, from your submission, was evident on his face. 

Your lips parted as you drew a shaky breath, finally adding the one word he'd been waiting for. "Please...Sir," you stammered, your cheeks flaming as the words left your mouth. His eyes softened at your admission, his lips curling into a pleased smirk. Your squirms and tiny whimpers sent delicious jolts of pleasure through him, his hard length pressing insistently against you. 

His fingers began to move again, trailing further up your thigh, ever so teasingly close to where you wanted him most. "Keep your eyes on me," he instructed you, watching as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "Stay still," he ordered, letting his fingers dance around the most intimate part of you. The most desperate whimper escaped your lips, a sound that was music to his ears, pushing him to the brink of control. You involuntarily arched into his touch, making him withdraw his hand abruptly. 

"Did I not tell you to stay still?" he reminded you, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Good girls listen, remember?"

"I...I'm sorry, Sir," you managed to stammer out. You felt his hand around your waist tighten, anchoring you firmly to his thigh, not allowing you the satisfaction of grinding down on his fingers. This was his game, his rules, and you would have to play by them. 

Satisfied with your answer, his hand disappeared beneath your skirt again, your breath hitching in anticipation. His fingers ventured further up, tracing the damp path his touch had created until one finger pressed at your entrance. His eyes studied your reactions, your pupils blown wide with desire, your chest heaving. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice steady despite the clear arousal in his gaze. 

"Yes...Sir," you panted, your voice trembling with need. 

His finger pushed further inside you, a low growl escaping his lips as he felt your warm tightness clench around him. His thumb began to trace lazy circles on your clit, his touch maddeningly slow. Your hands instinctively clenching onto his shirt, desperate for some form of stability. Your knuckles turned white with the effort of staying still. He set a steady rhythm that had you trembling, your body fighting the urge to move, to chase the pleasure he was so expertly teasing out of you. 

He continued his rhythm, bringing you to the edge of release only to stop abruptly. He was enjoying this too much, the control, the power, the trust you had placed in him. He could feel his arousal pressing into you, the tightness of his trousers now bordering discomfort. But he ignored it. This was about you, about taking care of you, making you feel good. 

"Sir..." you whimpered, the loss of contact making your hips buck up in search of his touch. But he held you steady, his hand on your waist keeping you in place. His rhythm was cruelly timed, just enough to build your anticipation before denying you release. 

"Please...Sir," you cried out, the words a desperate plea. 

He chuckled, his voice laced with an edge of amusement. "Poor thing," he cooed, his voice dripping with feigned sympathy. "Look at you, so needy. Can't hold on any longer?" 

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, ashamed of yourself for being so desperate, so vulnerable. But in this moment, it didn't matter. You were so close and you didn't want to dare reaching that sweet release without his permission. 

"Tell me, what do you want?" he asked, pulling his fingers away once more and smirking at the whimper of protest that escaped your lips. 

You were a blushing mess, your eyes pleading with him as you struggled to find your voice. "P-please...I n-need...," you stammered, unable to finish the sentence. 

"Yes?" he prodded, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the evident arousal in his eyes. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before speaking again. "I-I need to...to come, Sir. Please..." you admitted. 

A low growl rumbled in his chest at your admission, the sound sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. "Good girl," he praised. His finger, slick with your arousal, ventured back inside you, this time adding a second one. You gasped at the stretch, the pressure, but he kept his pace slow, steady, letting you adjust to the feeling of being filled. 

"Relax," he instructed, his fingers moving in rhythm with the steady circling of his thumb over your clit. Your body obeyed, relaxing into the touch, and soon his touch was robbed of all gentleness, setting a pace that had you panting and moaning beneath him. The relentless assault had you whimpering, your mind focused on nothing but the waves of pleasure he was eliciting from you. 

"Let go," he encouraged, a soft whisper in your ear. "You're such a good girl...let go for me." 

With a final whimper, you let yourself succumb to the pleasure, your body convulsing in his hold as you rode out the waves of your climax. Your body arched into his touch, your hands clutching at his shirt. He didn't stop his movements until you slumped against him, completely spent. 

"That's my girl," he praised, a note of pride in his voice. He withdrew his fingers slowly, bringing them to your lips. His eyes met yours with a silent instruction. You obediently took his fingers into your mouth, cleaning them with your tongue, your taste mingling with the salty remnants of your climax. He watched you, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of you, flushed and sated and completely at his mercy. 

"I think," he said in a low, husky voice, "we should move this to the bedroom." You swallowed thickly, your pulse racing, but nodded, letting him guide you up on your feet. 

His room was a reflection of him. A large, comfortable looking bed sat in the middle, the sheets rumpled and inviting. Dark wood furniture filled the room, bookshelves lined the walls. There was a distinctly masculine scent to it, a mixture of parchment, leather bound books and something else, uniquely him. 

He led you to the bed, his hand warm and steady on the small of your back. You could feel his gaze on you, it was heated, predatory. "Sit," he commanded. You obeyed instantly, perching on the edge of the bed. He stood in front of you, your eyes at the perfect level with the bulge in his trousers. 

His hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer. "I want you to see what you do to me." 

His grip in hair tightened, the sweet pain making you gasp, your lips now mere centimeters from his erection clearly outlined against the fabric of his trousers. You could feel your cheeks burning at the sight. It was a powerful thing, to know that you could evoke such a reaction from him. It was intoxicating. 

He took a step back, his gaze taking in your shivering form. His hands reached out towards the buttons of your blouse, the touch making you flinch slightly. His fingers worked slowly, undoing each button with meticulous care. "Relax," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm as the material fell away, exposing your delicate skin. 

Reaching behind you, he unclasped your bra with practiced ease, discarding the fabric with a flick of his wrist. You trembled, exposed and vulnerable, yet you held his gaze. His hands traced down your sides, stopping at the hem of your skirt. "These," he stated, his fingers ghosting over the fabric of your skirt and stockings, "stay on." 

He gently pushed you, guiding you to lie down on the bed. His figure loomed over you as he positioned himself between your trembling legs. Your professor, still clad in his clothing, a cruel barrier between your bodies, pressed his hips into yours. The friction drew a sharp gasp from you, and you instinctively tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck. 

He was quick to catch you, his hand cupping your cheek, forcing your gaze back to him. "Look at me," he commanded. His hand slipped from your face, down to rest on your throat, his grip just tight enough to make you swallow nervously. 

He stilled, studying you under him, his thumb pressing ever so slightly into your soft skin. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper against the silence in the room. You wanted him to dominate you, to control you, even if this meant giving you permission to breathe. Your response was instinctive, your hand reaching up to press on his, urging him to tighten his grip. But he simply smirked at you, "Use your words."

You swallowed, your eyes flickering with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Y-yes, Sir," you stuttered, the honorific rolling off your tongue, only fuelling his arousal. His thumb pressed deeper into your skin, feeling your pulse there. 

Maintaining the pressure on your throat, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The tenderness of the action stood in stark contrast to the dominance he held over you, the grip on your throat sending jolts of pleasurable fear through your body. Breaking the kiss, he moved to straddle you, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Deliberately, he began to loosen his tie, pulling it free from his neck and discarding it with a carelessness that had your breath hitching. He started on his shirt next, each button revealing more of his toned chest. Your eyes widened at the sight of his bare skin, your mind foggy with the realization that you were probably the first student to see this part of him. Sure, no other student had been on their knees gagging around him, but seeing this part of him, like this, felt different. It was more intimate. 

He caught your wandering gaze, the corner of his mouth curling up in amusement. He took hold of your hands, guiding them towards the buckle of his belt. You hesitated, your eyes darting up to meet his, silently seeking his approval. A low chuckle escaped his lips, "Go on," he encouraged. 

Your hands trembled as you reached for his belt, the metal clinking softly. Once you had the buckle undone, you moved to his trousers, pulling them open to reveal his black boxers. Your hands froze at the sight, your eyes looking back up at him, uncertain. 

"Keep going," he reassured you. You swallowed, reaching for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, letting his erection spring free. He shifted back, pulling his boxers off completely before settling back between your legs. His bare skin against your was a new sensation, a very welcomed sensation. It felt warm, strangely soft, and safe. 

His tip brushed against you, teasing your entrance, yet he made no move to push forward, causing you to whimper softly, your breaths coming out in short gasps. He stilled, his dominant façade melting away for a moment to reveal the gentle, kindhearted Remus Lupin you knew so well. He looked down at you, his gaze soft, "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He lifted his hand to stroke your hair comfortingly. "We can stop at any time if you're uncomfortable." 

You loved that he was so caring, you felt safe, but you also wished he could read your degenerate mind. You didn't want him to be so gentle, so attentive. You wanted him to be rough, to use you, even if it was your first time. You shook your head- no, you absolutely didn't want to stop- a breathy plea of "Please, Sir," tumbling from your lips. Your hands came up to his shoulders, clinging to them in anticipation. The sight of you, so willing, so eager under him, had him teetering on the edge of losing control. 

He started pushing in, slowly, agonizingly slowly. A groan escaped his lips, the tightness around him was almost too much. You held your breath, the unfamiliar feeling of being stretched causing you to tense up. 

He paused, fully sheathed within you, giving you time to adjust to his size. His hand moved to your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek, "Breathe, love. Relax," he instructed gently. 

At your needy whimper, he began to move, setting a rhythm that had your breath hitching in your throat. Your small noises of pleasure spurred him on. "You feel so good," he groaned, his hand moving up to cup your breast before resting on your throat once more, pressing down just enough to slightly restrict your airways. 

You arched into him, your body begging for more. "H-harder...please, Sir," you begged, your words coming out breathlessly. His heart pounded in his chest at your plea. "Such a good girl for me," he praised, his movements becoming harder, driving you into the mattress. 

He moved his hand to your hair, tugging harshly to expose your neck. His lips descended upon your exposed neck, sucking a possessive mark into your skin. His other hand slipped down, tracing the line of your thigh, over the lacy stocking that clung to your skin. "Mine," he growled, the statement punctuated by a particularly harsh thrust. His grip tightened in your hair, pulling you closer to him as he buried himself deeper within you. His rhythm was relentless.  

Your breaths were becoming shallower, your body tightening around him. He could tell you were close, so close to that edge he had brought you to earlier. His movements became rougher, more aggressive as he began to lose himself in the pleasure of the moment. "Please..." you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies coming together. 

His body was coiling tighter, the pleasure mounting as he thrust deeper and harder into you. "Come for me," he rasped out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. Your body tightened around him, your moans growing louder as you neared your second climax of the night. "That's it, good girl. Let go." 

With a final thrust, he stilled inside you, his body tensing as he spilled his seed within you. The pulsing sensation was enough to send you over the edge, your climax washing over you in waves. You clung to him, struggling to catch your breath. 

He remained still on top of you, your bodies pressed together, intimately connected. "Good girl," he praised, his lips brushing against your cheek as he planted soft kisses on your flushed skin. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice as he looked down at you. Your body felt heavy, exhausted. You could only manage a weak nod in response, your eyes still half-closed. 

"Did I hurt you?" he pressed, his gaze lingering on the mark he had left on your neck. You shook your head. He watched you carefully, his eyes studying you for any sign of discomfort or regret. All he saw was exhaustion and bliss. 

Slowly, he pulled out of you, the action causing you to let out a soft whimper in protest, leaving you feeling oddly empty. You barely registered his movements as he got up from the bed, only becoming aware of his absence when you felt the warmth of a cleaning spell between your legs. Your skirt and stockings were discarded, your body tucked under the comfort of his bed sheets. 

He settled next to you, pulling you close to him, cradling you in his arms as he murmured softly "I've got you." He kissed your temple, the action tender and loving, a contrast to the intensity of what had just happened. As much as you loved being manhandled, owned, dominated, right now, this is what you needed. His heartbeat, steady against your ear, was the most comforting sound you had ever heard. 

You knew this was not going to last forever, the reality of things pulling you out of your post-climax bliss. You would have to go back to your dorm soon, pretend to be a good, innocent little schoolgirl. But for now, you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, the warmth of his body lulling you to sleep.

[goblinpuppy35]

Out of Place Together

University Remus x Male Reader

(Previous Chapter) - Part 7

Summary: An academia-core themed story about the Marauders during their final year of university in the Muggle world. Soon after meeting each other  Remus begins to fall for one of Sirius' friends Y/N another shy student.

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Winter roamed relentlessly outside, dashing rain droplets and harsh winds across the stone streets. Piles of brown wet leaves imprinted against the pavements were now just a lost memory as all that remained were the naked bark cover skeletons of the trees they originally fell from. Damp and bleak was an accurate description of the outside world as most hide away indoors, waiting for the first suggestions of spring to appear. The Marauder's household was certainly in winter hibernation mode and yet if you were to walk passed one of the houses windows, the rich warm glow which came from within and the picturesque scenes of groups huddle up in the living room together gave the strong impression those inside the houses cosy walls felt anything but bleak or damp.

This evening Remus had brought down his record player into the living room, it had been placed on the floor next to the sofa and was softly playing the album 'Love' by The Cult. As 'Brother Wolf; Sister Moon' played peacefully across the room, Y/N was curled up further in between Remus' legs, resting his own back against the taller man's stomach while he read through his copy of Hamlet on the sofa. Tracing each page with his finger downwards to keep track of what line he was on. Despite enjoying Shakespeare Y/N always said he still had to concentrate while reading and Remus enjoyed how serious Y/N's face became when he was focusing, his Y/E/C eyes darting across the pages while his eyebrows knitted further down his face. Remus gleefully snuck glances towards Y/N above from his own book he was half reading, he knew if Y/N caught him watching he would smile and get embarrassed. While Remus didn't want to distract him from his studying he found Y/N's embarrassed face even more tantalising then his serious one.

A jingle of necklaces and bracelets descending down the stairs interacted to both men Sirius was on the move. Tilting his head backwards Y/N met Remus' upside down grin with one of his own. 'A storm is coming' Remus murmured in amusement as Sirius hopped down the last step in the hallway entering the living room energetically. Upon seeing just Remus and Y/N contently snuggled up together his expression dropped to one of confusion.

"Wasn't the plan to go out" Sirius asked as readjusted his dangling earrings in the small oval shaped mirror on the wall . "Actually Lily said her and James wanted us all the stay in and have dinner together tonight" explained Y/N trying to weave himself out of Remus' arms but the werewolf's long arms were having none of it. Keeping his favourite person in place. Y/N laughed as Remus was deliberately making this a hard task for him to complete. "Well they are late!" heaved Sirius throwing himself down into the large arm chair next to the sofa, he picked up a near by book and aimlessly flicked through it. "Well" Remus said after a short pause "means I can take a quick shower without missing the start then" and as he kissed Y/Ns cheek his arms unlocked his boyfriend from his entrapment. Before fully getting up Remus couldn't help but burry his fingers into Y/Ns thick Y/H/C hair, running through it as he moved towards the door, smiling back at Y/N before he wonder up the stairs towards the shared bathroom.

"God." explained Sirius dropping the book with a defeated sigh "Could you two be any more smitten with each other". Y/N knew his friend was teasing from the smug grin plastered across Sirius' face. Smiling back Y/N folded down his page in his book and placed it to one side as he leaned downwards off the sofa to change the record.

"What's that?" Sirius remarked, flicking up his finger and brushing Y/Ns hair behind his neck revealing a small mark, "Oh nothing, nicked myself while shaving this morning" Y/N explained as he lifted himself up again. "Ah, there was me thinking Remus had started to leave marks on you." Sirius jested and expected his friend to reply with another smug smile. But Y/N seemed shocked and scared by this remark and then his wide eyes looked anywhere other then Sirius face. Finally choosing to stay on the floor as Y/N rapidly started to collect his belongings together. 'What?' Sirius asked as he watched Y/N start to make his way to the door, 'nothing. I'm just going to make some tea. What some?' Y/N said hurriedly as he left the room towards the kitchen.

Even with the kettle on Y/N could hear Sirius footsteps follow him into the empty kitchen. There was the muffled sound of the shower upstairs being used. '... Y/N?', he closed is eyes, preparing for the unwanted question about to slip through Sirius quivering smirk. 'You and Remus ... you've had-".

"I don't want to talk about it" Y/N erupted turning around the face Sirius, folding his arms defensively. "Oh my god!" hissed Sirius as he was barely able to control his shocked excitement from hearing this new information. Turning around again Y/N rested his stomach against the sink, he could feel the heat rising up to his ears. "It's not like we haven't done stuff" he blurted out, refusing to let Sirius get the first word, "I've done it before and I know he's done it too". "So what's the issue?" asked Sirius plainly resting his hip against the counter "you two are clearly so comfortable around each other". Y/N smiled to himself, this was true. He has lost track of how many blissful mornings he had woken up to see Remus already awake with a book in one hand and his other embedded in his hair, stroking his head. Every small ritual they had developed together from sharing an afternoon cup of tea and smoke in the garden to late night walks through the city and park if one of them was struggling with school work load, each one Y/N valued with all his heart. He finally had found himself in a healthy good relationship and felt so happy for it.

"I think it comes from what happened at the pub" Y/N pondered aloud, biting the corner of his thumb "My ex wasn't very kind to me and that did travel into our sex life". Returning to his supportive self Sirius gently placed his hand around Y/Ns waist which is friend welcome warmly. "Honestly I'm fine" Y/N said reassuringly "but I think Remus is worried about pressuring me". 

"Well that makes sense" Sirius said with a soft chuckle "Remus adores you in a way I've never seen before. You bring him such joy all he wants to do it keep you happy and safe". "But I am" Y/N insisted. He also wondered if Remus' infliction was a key factor. Late one night, on one of their walks in fact, Remus has told him he despised the destructive nature of the beast inside him. Waking up in the tattered after mass of his transformation always made him feel sick. He often feared that the same violent nature would somehow seep into his normal life. "I think you should tell him" Sirius said as he watched Y/N mentally try and figure out the whole situation "I imagine Remus is just waiting for you to give him the green light". 

Y/N's realisation of this was timed perfectly with the sounds of the front door and a wave of noisy laughter and rustling bags to entering the hallway. "Sorry. Sorry!" came a bumbling chorus of both Lily and James. "Well you took your bloody time" yelled Sirius placing his hands on his hips dramatically in the kitchen door way. "Wow. Okay." giggled Lily failing to take her coat off because of her giddy nature "No pasta for you!". The couple came into the kitchen and placed several shopping bags on the counter tops. Y/N noticed they were both absolutely beaming with rosy cheeks, "already starting on the pre drinks" he jested looking up to James. However Y/N was met with just a genuine honest smile from James that Y/N knew he was sober. This made the whole situation more puzzling. "Ello you two" flouted in the sleep voice of Remus who was the last to enter the small kitchen, having come out of the shower he was wearing his clothes from before and rubbing his wet hair with a towel. "You want to tell us why you both insisted we all stay in this evening?" was the next thing Remus asked resulting in more side wise looks and giggles between Lily and James. "You tell them" whispered Lily nudging James who for the first time appeared timid in front of an audience.

Clearing his throat James finally spoke "we have decided to get married. Soon. Next week actually and we want you three to be there with us". There was only a brief moment of silence before the kitchen exploded with cries, voices, congratulations and laughter. Everyone hugged each other as James and Lily showed off the simple gold rings they both now wore. "This is unbelievable" Y/N said breathless after hugging Lily for the second time "Im so happy for you both". Then Lily nudged James a second time to which he looked back slightly unsure "You need to tell them the other bit" Lily whispered still trying to hold back her own excitement. Suddenly James understood and his hair seemed to stand upwards in anticipation "Ah yes. The wedding will be happy so soon because. We are having a baby". The silence after this reveal was longer but no less heartfelt. "I call Godfather!" announced Sirius sticking his hand high into the air and thus began the night long argument between Sirius and Remus over who had the right to call Godfather.

The family of friends spent the rest of the night preparing dinner together and all huddling around the circle table coffee table in the living room to eat together. Naturally Lily was not drinking and in 'honourable solidarity' as he put it, neither was James. Instead the couple watched their three dearest friends get progressively more tipsy the evening went on.  While James did his best to suggest to his best friends that they both could share the title of Godfather, Y/N turned to Lily who he had never seen as calm as tonight. "Im so pleased you to found each other" Y/N said earnestly, letting his forth glass of wine take full effect over him. "You two work together beyond belfie and I cant wait to see you two spend the rest of your lives together and happy". Lily peacefully rested her head gently against Y/Ns letting out a long content smile, 'Looks to me that I should be saying the same thing to you'. Y/N didn't follow her until he observed Lily was looking across the table at Remus, still deep in conversation with the others. His long fingers playing with the rim of this glass. Each time his laughed his early on step crows feet appeared around his eyes, but Y/N always thought these made him look even more handsome. Y/N then became aware that Lily had been watching him stare hopelessly across at his boyfriend, knowing exactly what he was thinking. They both laughed and Y/N blushed dropping his gaze to the floor. 'Thank you' he murmured back to Lily 'I'm very happy'.

Sirius, Remus and Y/N all had to call it a night before Lily and James who seemed perfectly satisfied staying in each others arms in the living room all night. While clumsily making his way up to stairs, Y/N chose to look back at the couple. It brought a pure smile across his face. They were utterly and undeniable in love. The kind which makes your own heart sway from proximity.

After saying goodnight to Sirius the other couple entered Remus' dark bedroom. While closing the door their low drunk giggles reduced to chuckles, Y/Ns flushed face rested against the back of the door before looking across to Remus. He stood in the centre of the room, swaying slightly. His own face was slightly red too as he licked the edge of his mustache, they were both eyeing each other up from head to toe, when their gaze met in the middle even through the dark it was electrifying. 

"Remus" Y/N said calmly, suddenly everything felt so clear to Y/N. He smiled meekly. "Im ready Remus."

[seleneprince]

File about Severus Snape's werewolf daughter (because she deserves it and I want to do it)

Name: Juliana Eileen Prince

Born: 30 August 1980

Blood status: Pureblood

Nationality: British with Italian roots

Also known as: Julia, Jules, Princess (by Draco), Prince Bastard, that viper (by Sirius Black), Snape's girl.

Species: Werewolf (since birth)

Hair: Ivory black

Eye colour: Onyx black with motes of grey

Family:

Severus Snape (father)

Unnamed werewolf woman (mother, deceased)

Eileen Prince (paternal grandmother, deceased)

Tobias Snape (paternal grandfather, deceased)

Boggart: Her father's corpse

Patronus: Snake

Affiliations: Hogwarts, House Prince, House Malfoy (she's practically one of them), wherever her father is.

House: Slytherin or Hufflepuff

Faceclaim: Jessie Mei Li (Shadow and Bone)

Trivia:

-She's half Asian on her mother's side.

-She's Severus Snape #1 defender and supporter. She adores her dad and will gladly fight anyone that insults him. She's not afraid of facing grown ass men is she sees them disrespecting him.

-House Prince has Roman-Italian roots, so Severus gave her a Latin name that means "woman of strong roots", and it can be abreviated to "Julia", a very common Roman name. Her second name is because Severus wanted to honor his mother but felt that it could be a bad omen giving it as first name. He doesn't want to accidentally curse his child to the same fate.

-She's only called Juliana by the teachers and her father. For everyone else she's mostly Julia. Jules is for friends only.

-To the public, she's considered an illegitimate child from House Prince, an ancient family of purebloods whose line was thought to be extinct.

-Severus wasn't going to ask the Malfoys to be the godparents because he didn't think they would want anything to do with a child with lycanthropy. They were furious at his reasoning and proclaimed that any child of his was considered family to them.

-So yeah Lucius and Narcissa are the godparents, because they wouldn't have it any other way.

-Because of this, Draco and Julia have been practically raised together and share a very close bond.

-He accepts Julia's condition but it doesn't apply for others like her. He's an hypocrite like his parents.

-She has her own room in Malfoy Manor because of how often she has spent the night there, thanks to her father's busy life. They also have a special room for her during the full moon nights.

-The only people that know of her condition are Severus, the Malfoys and Dumbledore.

-Remus finds out as soon as he interacts with her and he's flabbergasted.

-She's been learning Potions ever since she was old enough to hold a spoon. There's no way in hell Severus Snape wouldn't teach his daughter Potions.

-Despite this, her favourite subject is Care for Magical Creatures. She has a knack for it and connects with them better than with humans.

-Regardless of which house she ends up in, she'll be friends with the Slytherins.

-She plays Beater in the quidditch team. It's the only time she doesn't have to worry about her strenght.

-Ron is her favourite of the Golden Trio, but she's interested in Harry's trayectory.

-Really sharp and developed senses. Nothing ever escapes her. She also gets easily overwhelmed the days prior the full moon.

-She's a natural Legilimens like her father, which she found out after accidentally seeing one of his memories once. It was very uncomfortable for both.

-Severus has never told her the whole story with the marauders, only some pieces of it here and there. She knows it from the Malfoys and her own individual research (aka peeking into certain people's minds).

-Because of this, she dislikes Sirius and Remus a lot, specially the first. She doesn't see the point on hating James Potter if he's dead.

-One of the effects of her lycantropy is that she's naturally good with Dark Arts. Might be the only useful and painless thing her condition gave her.

-Her copying mechanism is dark humour, which she started to apply first with her lycantropy. She makes jokes about it and tries to take it with philosophy. She's not asshamed of it.

-She knows how to brew the wolfsbane potion but still prefers when her dad does it.

-At some point she has to share the Shrieking Shack with Lupin for the full moon nights. It makes an awkward experience for both.

-She goes by Prince instead of Snape to hide the fact that she's Severus' daughter. This was decided by Severus himself, to protect her from the danger of being associated with him. Julia isn't fond of this idea, but understands the reasons behind it.

-She doesn't really aprove of Draco's behaviour most of the time, but is too amused by it to stop him. If she really dislikes something he did, she'll play along in public but will chastize him in private. Kinda "I don't agree with you but I'll defend you anyway because we're supposed to be a team".

-She knows more than she should. Severus long gave up on trying to hide anything from her.

(In this AU, lycantropy has nothing to do with AIDs. It's a blood curse that happens to be contagious and, like all curses, it can be passed down to generations)

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

"It’s haunting to know that you still cry for something today that you also cried for 15 years ago."

Umm idk if this is too personal but would you break down why you gave each marauder the line that you did?

For some reason, Sirius' really stuck with. Literally I can't stop thinking about it.

If there was an award for best ask anon, I think you would win!!! I love when people ask about the intricacies of my writing because I just feel like everything that I write is so deeply personal to me!

This will be quite long as I think the best way to tackle this is to address each one with its context and then how I relate it to each marauder. So buckle in!!!

Anything underlined is referencing my other writing and will be linked!

See the original post here!

James: Two lives cannot overlap - one must be forgiven to forge the other. 

So I wrote this about the rivers of the Underworld in Greek mythology, in a wider piece of writing on coping with grief. It refers specifically to the river Lethe, the river of forgetting, where souls drink from it to forget their life before being reincarnated. I have mixed feeling about James as a character - on one hand as a young boy he's incredibly privileged to the point of almost ignorance but then is forced into a war he cannot fight and reasonably win. In a way this line can be applied to James in two ways: 1) he had to grow up to cope with the rapidly changing world he'd been basically thrown into and 2) harry could never defeat Voldemort if his parents were still alive. James and lily had to die so harry would have nothing to lose.

Sirius:  It’s haunting to know that you still cry for something today that you also cried for 15 years ago.

Okay so this was written in the same piece as above, in reference to a childhood memory. I cried for comfort but no one could come to me. No one chose to comfort me in that moment. I think we all have moments where we think 'I need my mum' or something similar but at it's core, its a plea for comfort - you want to be held, cradled, for the burden to be taken away. Sirius Black was denied affection as a child, denied love as an adult and then denied his life when he fell through The Veil. He had his friends as support but he also had to stare at James and Effie, Remus and Hope. He had moments where he needed parental love, where he felt like he would die without it. He was denied the chance to make sure Harry never experienced that, and when he did get the chance, it was ripped away almost immediately.

Remus: It is strange to cling onto remnants of someone who is no longer there.

This was written about losing someone and still having to live amongst their things. Everything is normal except the person is gone. It's describing that moment when you walk into a room and you feel their presence, like you're in the living room and it's so easy to convince yourself they're in the kitchen, but they aren't. The space they left behind is empty. I think with Remus, again it can apply in two ways: 1) himself - his whole identity is basically fed to him through the label of 'werewolf', the Order use him as a monster to tame a bigger beast. He is constantly mourning. In Hogwarts, he mourns his younger self. In the Order, he mourns the teenage, full of life, naive version of him. As an adult he mourns every version of himself - they trail behind him like a ball and chain. 2) everyone he loses - Remus outlives his best friends, and even the one he gets back, oh god he got him back but at what cost? Remus is a walking graveyard.

Peter: In every story, someone has to leave. This is not a burden taken lightly, nor is it one that can be shared.

I wrote this about Caesar and Brutus. When Caesar died, so did Brutus. As Brutus lives, so does Caesar. Today when one is mentioned, the other rarely goes unnamed. Brutus orchestrates the murder of Caesar because he fears his ambition and the ruin it will bring to Rome. Peter is both Caesar and Brutus. He fears Voldemort enough to do his bidding only because he's never had such power before. We see exactly how Peter's loyalty is manipulated - he felt more important to Voldemort then he did to his friends and so his loyalty changed accordingly.

Lily: The sunflowers turn to the light, but the sun will never recognise their presence.

Growth is difficult to justify in a non-physical sense. This was inherently about being an observer in my own life. We do things that have unremarkable impacts until one day the fallout of our actions are so grand we cannot outrun them. In terms of Lily, I do think in hindsight this may be more relevant to her characterisation moreso than her character. She is often represented as just a vessel to carry Harry and is overlooked as a complex character and a key member of the Order. James forgot his wand on the sofa - she protected Harry. She was an incredibly smart witch - she was, is, more than just her offspring. Treat her accordingly.

Regulus: One day we all realise that the first thing we lose is ourselves.

My earliest memory is a hospital visit and a funeral. We do not realise that the process of growth is intertwined with the ritual of loss. You are allowed to mourn the person you used to be. Death isn’t exclusive to those burned or bombed or buried. Regulus loses his brother then he loses himself. He has a role to play as the prodigal son. He is actively cutting himself open and stitching himself back up to fit seamlessly into the mould his parents have created for him. He watched Sirius fail, so he couldn't. Maybe he did believe in blood supremacy at first or maybe the whole thing was a ploy to try and grasp at the power and autonomy he'd grievously been denied his entire life. Regulus knew himself so well he'd buried the body undetectably.

Pandora: Nobody talks of death lightly. Nobody talks of what it tends to leave behind.

We obsess over death - how to prevent it, how to cope with it, how to be clinical about it. Yes a person dies and we are left with the aftermath - clothes, shoes, pictures, their tea in the cupboard, hair still in the brush. But obviously, a person dies. People are complexes - the most inherent part of death to me is how a person can just end. With Pandora, this sits within the realm of the HC that she is a seer. She must standby and watch the people she loves die twice - once in her head and once in real life. She must watch over her friends and loved ones and grieve them as she lives alongside them. To her, a heart is just a stopwatch.

Evan: He carried on with his journey but made time to be part of mine.

I met an old man who told me that at the end of the day, you do wish you could it all over again. That we are often ungrateful until we lose the thing, then all we want is to get it back. Evan Rosier cherished everything; his sister, his friends, his childhood. But this made him so weary of loss. He was possessive and sometimes cruel. He would do anything to keep what was important to him, even join a blood supremacy cult to keep his best friends and sister safe. When you die, they say you get seven minutes to rewatch the happiest moments. When Evan Rosier dies, he sees Barty and Reg and Pandora.

Barty: You can love something that does not exist anymore. Something that has never existed cannot be loved.

This one is slightly harder to explain. I believe it to be human nature to chase the things that we have only had a taste of. You cannot want something you do not know. Though I do wonder if this is more an act of conditioning than something inherently of nature. To cognise something is to give it a reality, whether this be a thought, an idea or a notion.  Barty Crouch Jr was a waste of potential. 12 OWLs. 4 languages. He could've been whatever he wanted. You can assume he was unsuccessful in fulfilling his potential - unless he wanted to be dead. And who can blame him with a father like that. Barty had to fabricate everything - would lick up his father's approval like a dog until the day he realised none of it actually mattered.

Dorcas: All prior things are made of shards, of tatters. All prior things look different in the daylight.

Past lives are just that. Past, nonexistent. Windows are walls. Shields are not always protective. Dorcas Meadows was hunted and slaughtered by Voldemort himself. She, obviously, was a threat. A smart, cunning, powerful witch who made the Dark Lord himself worry just how successful he'd be if she remained alive. But none of this mattered from the second she hit the floor, heart slowing down, eyes closing. She was not the priest's favorite sacrificial lamb. She wasn't even a sacrifice.

Marlene: One day I will sit in an urn, and I too will be smaller than the day I arrived.

I wrote this about not rushing through life. It was about savoring moments and people and the ephemeral. Marlene was the casanova - wanted by all but touched by few. Her bloodline dies when she dies next to her brother. Filled with potential and life, even the brightest stars will fade away. Sacrifice is often forgotten, drawn over, especially if it isn't grand. Not quite the brightest witch of her generation, nor pretty enough to get the one person she truly wanted.

Mary: I wonder if forgetting is betrayal or if it’s a favour, a privilege of rest.

I was wondering whether remembering people disturbed the process of dying. We don't know of an afterlife or what happens after you die. Does reminiscing drag a soul away from rest? I hold the HC that Mary obliviated herself near and dear. In this way, it's just another person coping with loss. I think because it's so deeply personal, it's very difficult to express in words.

Andromeda: We learn that just because one person escapes the inevitable, the other does not.

I wrote this about Orpheus and Eurydice. It's a story I adore and it's also often misunderstood. This is why it’s a tragedy, and why love often is a tragedy - loss is inevitable. In the case of Orpheus and Eurydice, he loved her enough to try and save her. He loved her so much that he couldn’t. Andromeda is the survivor - survives her upbringing, survives a war, outlives her family. She takes in Teddy even though he's a glaring reminder of her daughter and every moment of a past she tried to outrun.

Narcissa: Love is always a choice, even when we make the wrong one.

Again, this is from me writing about Orpheus and Eurydice. Their story was never about retrieval or righting a wrong. Even if Eurydice had been returned, she was a ghost. This was always a story about saying goodbye. Oh I could lament about Narcissa for days. She is her own greatest tragedy. She was the model child out of her sisters. She lived the ideal trajectory and suffered for it. Obedience and cunning were bred into her. She couldn't save her husband, her house, her sisters or her son. Narcissa lived her life always saying goodbye, wishing she could instead say 'stay'.

Bellatrix: Sometimes, it feels like I have been exiled from my life and no one has thought to tell me.

This was written about nostalgia, and living like a stranger in your own life. It's about the means and ways and things we do to gain some semblance of control back into our lives. Bellatrix has always been a very interesting character to me. She upholds her pure blood upbringing, marries a pure blood and yet she strives for more. She becomes a deatheater and makes herself so valuable to Voldemort, she becomes an intrinsic part of his inner circle. She outshines her husband and sisters - she is the patriarch.

Anon. I hope this answers your question! If you'd like further details on any of these please send me another ask or DM! I'd love to hear your thoughts instead of scribing mine!

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic Prompt 3 - Darkfic

TW: Mentions of sexual assault and non-consensual incest. Nothing graphic is described at all. Mentions of Black family homophobia.

Words: 825

@wolfstarmicrofic

***

Sirius looked up at his mother’s portrait, which continued to scream at him.

“Filth! Degenerate! How dare you return to my house?”

He fired off a few curses, none of which made any difference of course. He sat down on the landing and just let her scream.

When Remus returned, several hours later, he found Sirius with a glassy look on his face and Walburga still shrieking.

“Would you shut the fuck up?!” He bellowed.

“Half-breed! Do you think you can command me? You’re lucky not to be put down like the vermin that you are!” Remus rolled his eyes and looked down at Sirius.

“How long have you been sat here?” Sirius remained staring straight ahead. Remus crouched and reached for his hand. “Pads?”

“Do not touch my son! Do not sully this household with your disease. Sodomite! Half-Breed!”

“Oh, so he’s your son now? I don’t remember you being a parent for at least twenty-five years, and you’ve only been dead for ten of those.” Remus squeezed Sirius’ hand. “Muffliato.”

It didn’t silence her completely, but it helped pull Sirius out of his stupor. “Moons?” He said, in a small voice.

“Let’s go downstairs. We won’t hear her from there. I've got you, come on.” He pulled Sirius to his feet and wrapped an arm around his waist so he could lean on him. “Were you sitting there the whole time I was out?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I just— I started remembering things and they were worse than I thought.” They arrived in the living room and Remus set them both down on the squishy sofa that Remus had transfigured from the old furniture. “I don’t know how much I told you, before.”

Before always meant Before Azkaban. A lot of Sirius’ positive memories of school and the first war were gone, or at least warped and faded. Remus did his best to regale him with tales of the marauders and the flat they’d shared afterward, going as far as secretly writing them down and planning to gift the book to Sirius at some point, and hoping he’d share the stories with Harry.

“You managed to avoid the subject most of the time, I think. Unless there was physical evidence,” Remus looked down at the key-shaped scar on Sirius’ arm, which had been carefully inked around. “You didn’t want to tell us anything you didn’t have to. We knew it was bad, though.”

“Someone told her I had a boyfriend once.” Sirius slumped against Remus’ chest. “Not you, I think it must have been… What was his name? The Ravenclaw, I think.”

“Benjy Fenwick.” Remus stroked Sirius’ hair slowly. “You were together for a few months in fifth year.”

“It must have been one of my cousins. Doubt it was Andromeda. Do you know what my mother did when I came back for the summer?” Remus shook his head. “She locked me in my room with Bellatrix.”

“Why would she—” It suddenly dawned on Remus what he was implying. “Oh, Pads, no.”

He nodded. “She said she was going to cure me. That I was disgusting and unwell. At one point, mother came in and watched.” Remus felt sick. “Practically cheered her on.”

Remus wrapped his arms around him tight. “I am so sorry. That’s awful. If she wasn’t dead I’d kill her myself, and if I ever see Bellatrix again…”

“She’s still in Azkaban.” He said flatly. “They put her in the cell next to mine for a while.”

“We shouldn’t have come back here.” Remus said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I have nowhere else to go.” Sirius’ voice broke. “I’m more trapped here now than I was when I was a child.”

“You got out once. We'll get you out again.” Remus reminded him, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he sobbed. “Let me talk to Dumbledore.”

“You can’t tell him.” Sirius sat up, quickly. “Don’t tell him.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Pads.”

“Do not tell him.” Sirius hissed, through sniffles. “He’ll think I’m even weaker than I am.”

“You’re not weak. You have survived so much horrific shit. You’re the strongest person I know. I won’t give him details, I promise, but I need to express to him how vital it is that we move somewhere else.”

“It’ll be just another place for me to wake you up by screaming.”

“But my house won’t scream back at you.” Remus took him by the shoulders. “I need you to trust me on this.”

“I think you’re the only person I do trust.” Sirius’ face was unreadable. “I wish I’d told you back then.”

“I understand why you didn’t. We’ll get you through this, I promise.” He brushed Sirius’ hair off his face and Sirius had a sudden flash of a memory from the summer he’d finally run away to the Potters’. Remus, silhouetted in sunlight, brushing the hair off his wet face, telling him it would all be ok.