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exhaustedcatte · 2 months

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Happy Moony Day!

Lily Evans brandished her camcorder. Her father had shelled out a big sum after she’d gotten the wizard equivalent of an A* in her OWLs for her to buy whatever she wished.

“That a camera, Evans?” Sirius Black asked, prodding the lens with inky fingers.

“Don’t dirty it!” she snapped. “Yes, it’s a camera.”

“Ooh, Moony’s is differ–”

“That’s because I can record videos on here, Black.”

The portrait swung open, screaming garishly at—oh, it was Potter. She shared the Speared Knight’s sentiments. He was walking towards Sirius, sweaty from Quidditch but still in the sweat-soaked uniform. Couldn’t he shower in the stalls like everyone else? No, he had to parade his lean arms in the tight uniform. Yuck.

“–record for his birthday?”

“What was that?”

Sirius looked back, saw James taking two stairs at a time to their dorm. Watched Lily’s eyes tracking him and grinned.

“Alright,” she cleared her throat. “What is Remus to you Marauders?”

“Uncouth little bastard, he is! I got detention for the tickling hex he used on Flitwick, y’know?” Sirius said cheerfully. James shoved him. Peter lurched over the arm on Sirius’ left. Why they insisted on smushing themselves in one sofa, she didn’t want to know.

“What Mr Padfoot means to say,” James cut in pointedly, “is that Moony, my dear Moonman, is the sparkling Brains behind some–”

Peter coughed. Sirius slapped his back heartily.

James glared at the pair, “–most of our elaborate pranks. Padfoot and I haven’t got the patience, Pete too, but you know our Remus, he has the patience of ten saints. He’s our devious schemer.”

Lily hid a smile behind the flipped out screen of her camera. “He’s the people’s favourite though.”

“Ours too,” Sirius said matter-of-factly. James and Peter made googly-eyes at him, and Sirius scoffed, ears blushing.

Lily was cursed with ample curiosity, which was clawing up her throat.

“Peter?”

Peter scratched his chin. “Moony is like the Backbone. He’s the the framework of our group. He’s not like Prongs, he can’t make everyone talk about their problems–”

“Aw,” James cooed loudly. “God knows he doesn’t discuss his own problems,” Sirius muttered.

“–and he isn’t everyone’s problem like Padfoot,” Peter grinned at Sirius’ hand-on-chest-betrayed face. “Moony helps you appreciate silence. He knows when to prod, when to hold back. And he also guides us through schoolwork even if he’s busy.”

Lily knew Peter meant himself in that misleading blanket statement but neither James nor Sirius corrected him. She found herself a bit touched.

“He’s amazing. He’s so steady and dependable, like. So generous too, I’d have died in our dorm two weeks into first year if not for him, actually.”

“Oh yes, we brewed that–” James’ eyes glinted with nostalgia.

Lily interjected immediately, “Sirius?”

“He’s our favourite,” he said, but his eyes were too clear, cheeks too pink.

They crowded the frame messily, “Happy birthday Moony! We love you!”

Sirius approached her later that evening when the common room was sparse. “Mind doing my bit solo?”

Lily shrugged, interested. “Sure.” She got it ready and pointed the lens at Sirius’ handsome face.

“Moony is the bravest person in Gryffindor.”

She’d heard this before. She’s not sure why it is, but she knew the three of them agreed on this unanimously.

“I know he’s the brain and the bones, but he’s also the Heart. James could just as easily be the Bones, I could be the Brain,” Sirius winked. “But we’re both too much of twats to be the Heart, Pete also. But Remus is–he’s so Good.”

Lily was shocked at the sincerity in Black’s voice. “Oh?”

“He’s been through a lot, our Moony, but as tender as our human hearts are, as much as they bruise, he just keeps on doing, fighting. He’s gentle in a way I haven’t learnt, kind in a way James has tried to emulate, hardworking in a way Peter tries to copy.

“Remus is my very core. He’s most of what’s good about me,” Sirius said.

She didn’t know if he realised the change from Our to My. She didn’t comment.

“James and Peter’s friendship is absolutely everything to me, but Remus is a Very Important person to me,” he said quietly. “We love him so dearly.”

Lily offered an encouraging nod.

Sirius looked at the camera, no, behind it, and beamed. “Happy birthday darling, be happy always.”

Remus walked into the frame, and Lily’s camera shook. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

It takes strength to be gentle and kind– The Smiths

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exhaustedcatte · 2 months

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Marauders Code

“We’ve got each other’s backs, no matter what,” the four wizards chanted as they performed a blood-binding oath illegally in their dormitory.

Remus was sent straight into McGonagall’s office, where she stared at him from behind her eyeglasses.

“Mister Lupin,” she raised a brow. “Sit, please.”

He sat, weary and suddenly tired of everything that had happened.

McGonagall exhaled sharply. “What’s this about you breaking a nose, then?”

Remus lifted his left shoulder listlessly, “He was being a dic– berk to Sirius and. Well. Yeah.”

He didn’t disclose that the three boys had spent the morning cheering up Sirius after the awful, long winded howler he’d gotten from home. And just when the boy had begun to laugh, that stupid fucking idiot Yaxley had come and rained over their progress.

But Remus’ pre-moon jitters had slithered down his arm, which shot out at the older boy’s nose, breaking it upon contact.

In the four years his friends had known him, Remus’d always been mild and patient. It helped his self-esteem to be something other than a monster, but exceptions, he’d come to learn, had to be made. Quite like Sirius Black.

James and Peter had stared at him with pure admiration and Sirius gaped at him with wide, grateful eyes.

“S’alright,” he’d said awkwardly when he retrieved his arm, unscathed, from a yowling Yaxley’s face. “Worth a detention.”

“Damn right!” James hollered, tackling Remus carefully, aware of his pre-moon pains, despite his excitement.

“Moony,” Peter breathed, “You’re brill!”

Remus offered a half smile as he followed a prefect down to McGonagall’s office.

That was fourth year.

In fifth year, Sirius was the one who was laden with detention.

He’d been skidding down the stairs using a dandy charm that him and Remus had been practising for a prank.

Sirius slid down the marble steps directly into a gossip session.

“He’s such a peacock,” one of them groaned.

“Gosh, I know! And did you see how he kept babying Pettigrew in Transfig? Like he’s some kind of genius, what a git!”

Sirius frowned. Peter? James was the one who partnered with—oh.

He listened closer, sneaking up on them from behind. And of course. Evans, MacDonald, McKinnon, Fortescue.

“Potter’s inflated ego–”

James had been assisting Peter with the lesson, one that Peter had read up on with Remus but while Remus had succeeded in his second try, Peter was struggling in his twenty second.

He was reassuring a boy who needed to be reminded that sometimes things take time and that was quite alright. That it didn’t speak to your intelligence or your capabilities. These girls, who hated James purely because he was smarter than them (okay, so Sirius knew James could be a right twat, but not this time), could go straight to hell.

Sirius grinned.

He followed them behind a Disillusionment charm that he’d perfected over the winter-break at Hogwarts and spelled every staircase they took to bring them back to the same hallway. After several attempts of them running away but landing right in front of the same charms classroom, he gave in and appeared in front of their frazzled beings.

“That’ll teach you not to speak on what you don’t know,” he said coldly.

Needless to say, McGonagall was furious at him for making them skip class and gave him a week of scrubbing trophies in Filch’s office. They became fast friends after that incident though, so no harm done.

James was running late.

He had to take notes for Remus, who was lying stock still in the infirmary, Skele-gro working on his bones. Sirius was keeping watch, having dropped Herbogy in their sixth year; he had Os in every subject, he could drop anything he wished.

James dashed into the Greenhouses right behind Sprout, barely squeezing in as the glass doors slid shut. Peter waved from their spot in the corner.

Their lesson was not very fun since they were with the know-it-alls. Ravenclaws were either amiable, or they had claws.

“You’d think he’d handle plants better, with how much he eats them,” Billy whatsit sneered at Peter.

Peter wilted like his Aconite. James felt fury rise in his throat.

“Gluttony,” one girl simpered cruelly.

“Look at those love handles on him,” a third one said. “I don’t understand how he’s a Marauder.”

“Pity friendship, I think. One would think he’s a Squib,” Billy gurgled.

James rose to his feet. “Professor Sprout? I think Billy Blabbermouth and his lackeys are having trouble here.”

The class turned to them.

He hexed the trio publicly. It was a silly one, helped jog your memory, repeat your previous words (he’d used it plenty on Sirius when he was fumbling around Remus like a shy maiden).

Billy and his friends looked aghast as their disgusting words came pouring out at Sprout’s face. She took a hundred points off them, and handed detention for the next two weeks.

“Thanks James,” Peter whispered.

“Of course, mate.”

James also got detention for hexing a student in class, but he took it happily, Remus was minding that detention as Prefect anyway.

In their last year, Remus had come back with a long wooden cane, much to his chagrin.

His body couldn’t carry his weight right after the moons, so he’d been forced into a magnificent cane with a golden lion at the head. They had tried to make him feel better about it but Remus was a creature of self-reliance, of pride.

Remus hated it, Peter knew.

It happened on their way to breakfast.

Peter was behind the other three boys, voted as the one to lie to Mary about their Halloween plans (they were planning on transforming all the beds into pumpkins; no, they weren’t going to be creepy about it—mirror charms, duh), when Davey Smith traipsed past them and tripped Remus.

Remus fell down like a bag of bricks, red-faced and irate, unable to retaliate after the moon and otherwise (monster, monster, Remus chanted to himself to prevent himself from snapping, Peter knew).

Sirius and James helped him up, jaws locked with anger, as their first priority was to check on their friend.

Smith jeered. “Feet useless, cane broken, face cut up. What kind of an ugly invalid are you, Lupin?”

Davey Smith, jealous of Remus simply because he’d been asked out by Davey’s crush. What a piece of work.

“Sirius, no. James, put your wand down,” Remus sighed. “Smith, kindly get lost.”

Peter smiled. He’d not been warned. “Sorry, Mary, duty calls!”

He turned into Wormtail behind an armour and scurried up an unsuspecting Davey’s pant leg.

Wormtail bit into the Hufflepuff’s flesh.

Davey howled.

McGonagall swept into the hall, took one look at Remus, at the anger tinged faces of James and Sirius and at Peter’s self-satsified expression. Then she noticed Davey, who was flopping about the hallway embarrassingly.

“Mr Pettigrew,” McGonagall ground out tightly, “I don’t know what you’ve done, but his thigh is bleeding! Detention for the week. And Mr Smith, we will have a Talk after Madam Pomfrey is done with that gash. No Hogsmeade for the rest of the term for you.”

Peter smiled benignly. “I’ll be there, professor.”

She whisked Smith away, scolding him for hurting her kids, no doubt.

“Pete! That was fab!” Sirius laughed and James thumped his back. “Wish I could’ve given him rabies, but you might’ve done me up with plague.”

Remus was rolling his eyes, but a smile was hooking his mouth up in the corners, “I should know better by now, eh? Of course one of you will rush to defend my honour.”

“It’s what you deserve Moony,” Peter said, smiling.

Really, they’d always have each other’s backs. Until the very end.

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exhaustedcatte · 3 months

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tagged by: @divkazkdovikde thank you:))

last song: line without a hook by ricky montgomery

last film: 12th fail (it’s a bollywood movie; really heartwarming and motivational)

currently reading: (haven’t read in months bc of an upcoming exam) last book i read was – tuesdays with morrie by mitch albom. reread a bit of the song of achilles (ask me again in a few months and i’ll have ploughed through my entire tbr lol)

currently watching: good omens and superstore (very very irregularly bc, again, my big exam is soon)

currently consuming: textbooks. so many textbooks.

currently craving: tacos. god, i just ate, but now i’m hungry again.

no pressure tag(s): @dothsexth + anyone who’s following my blog and everyone who comes across this post! hop on:)

Tagged by @celestialcrowley - thank you!

Last Song: Dress - Taylor Swift

Last Film: Muppet Treasure Island - It is currently my 2 year old's favorite movie, so we watch it at least once a day!

Currently Reading: Good Omens fic by @voluptatiscausa.

Currently Watching: Sesame Street - My toddler and I are waiting in suspense to learn the Letter of of Day.

Currently Consuming: Coffee

Currently Craving: This really amazing egg and plant-based sausage breakfast sandwich my husband makes for me.

Tagging @cobragardens @shadesofecclescakes @ihavenoideahowtodream @mimi-and-the-next-20th-century @floralomens @takeme-totheworld @greenthena @hinekosama @mindthewitch @tominniemousesblog @voluptatiscausa

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exhaustedcatte · 4 months

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Quidditch

“Is that Lupin?” Mary squinted against the morning fog into the distance.

The only way Lily knew that it was, in fact, Remus was the angle at which her neck was tilted back and the bundle of red wool that was wobbling towards the stands.

“Remus!” Lily waved him over.

He was blinking blearily, holding on to Peter by the shoulder, and still struggling to open his eyes. “Morning Lily,” he said to the air above her shoulder.

Peter deposited Remus by the girls before scrambling down to give Sirius his forgotten hair-tie. “Be right back, Moony! Padfoot can’t have his pre-game superstition faulted.”

Mary giggled and thumped Remus into the seat beside her. “Aw, Lupin! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a morning game till now! I know you love your sleep.”

Which, yes. Remus was often the last one to arrive for breakfast. He would stumble in, still sleep dizzy, and scarf down a plate that was meticulously arranged with his favourite foods by one of his boys. It was a bit endearing.

“Gryffindor hasn’t had a morning match in ages,” Remus pointed out.

Lily couldn’t help but ask, “So you, who doesn’t mind shaving off a few minutes of class for sleep, woke up early for bloody Quidditch?!”

“James and Sirius are playing,” he shrugged simply, looking a bit more awake now that he’d gotten a lungful of fresh winter air. “I always come to watch them play.”

Mary and Lily stared at him with twin looks of surprise.

Here was Remus John Lupin, infamous for arriving last to breakfast and sometimes nodding off in class because he had, according to Potter, bouts of insomnia. Here he was, at the Quidditch pitch when the sun was yet to show, simply because his friends were playing.

“You’re so sweet,” Mary cooed. “Ditching sleep for Quidditch! A lesser man could never. Would never!”

Remus huffed a laugh.

They tracked Peter giving Sirius the hair-tie and then fixing James’s glasses on his nose. “The superstition,” Remus explained as the three of them did a small group huddle. “We were trying to be supportive for their first tryouts years ago by fixing them up and they decided that that was why they got in.”

“That is absolutely adorable,” Dorcas declared from where she’d walked up beside Remus. “What’s your role in all this?”

Remus, curiously, blushed scarlet. Not just because of the wind nipping his face. “I’ve never done this outside—we usually handle their nerves and superstitions in our dorm.”

“Well,” Lily said, eyeing the two figures flying towards their stands despite the shouts of protest from Hooch and the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. “Looks like you’ve no choice but to follow through Remus.”

“It’s for Gryffindor,” Dorcas implored. “I don’t care how embarrassing it is, but you’ve got to! They need to be in form. If you are what it takes, then damn me Lupin, I’ll have your head if we lose!”

Remus sighed resignedly as the boys got closer.

For the first time, James wasn’t even looking at her when he flew over. His glasses were still askew but he was smiling with such contagious excitement that Lily found herself wishing he’d turn the smile on her and then instantly felt weird about wanting that. (Oh, but the red and gold against his skin was just too much.)

“Right then, Moony mine,” James leaned forward to Remus, smiling lasciviously. “Go on.”

Remus rolled his eyes and pushed James’s unruly hair back, “One day I will kill you both.” But then, Remus held James’s face by his temples and planted a kiss to his exposed forehead.

There were sharp wolf whistles and jeers sounding from around them like fireworks.

“Make me proud, as always. Off you trot, Potter,” Remus smiled. Sirius snorted elegantly from behind James. An inside joke, then.

“I don’t trot!” James muttered balefully as he nosedived to the grass to appease his captain.

Lily looked on as he jumped off the broom impressively right before landing and his exaggerated hand movements took over the conversation. She assumed he was arguing that they needed the Lupin Kiss for their own benefit.

Sirius hovered for a moment before swooping in to take James’s spot, looking entirely too unruffled even in the biting cold. As much as she could pretend to loathe Sirius, Lily had to admit that the boy was somewhat of a talent. And not to mention the absolutely ridiculous beauty on him.

Mary shared the sentiment, it seemed. “You’ll be breaking so many hearts right now, Black,” Mary noted with a smirk. “What they would kill to be Lupin.”

Lily looked around her and was unsurprised to find girls from all over the pitch, watching this spectacle. Disdain and jealousy crackling like live wire in the air.

“I’m perfectly happy as I am. I’d kill to be me if I were them,” Sirius said haughtily, throwing his short braid back.

Before any of the girls could comment on that statement, Remus shook his head and pulled a sour-faced Sirius by his jaw, Lily felt her face heat up at that action, leaned over the railing and pressed a kiss to the furrow between his brows, which smoothed out into Sirius’ perfectly porcelain face, tinged a healthy pink, when Remus pulled away.

“Good luck, Black. Make it worth my losing sleep.”

“You got it, Moonshine,” Sirius winked, eyes sparkling, previous woes forgotten, and looking much brighter now. He took off to the team, where they were all lined up to begin.

There was a pregnant silence for a few long seconds.

“And here I thought you plan the wreckage of the school in that dorm, but you’re all just kissing each other goodnight, huh?”

“It’s not mutually exclusive, Meadowes,” Remus smirked. “Besides, I think these two just enjoy being kissed.”

“By you!” Mary stressed with a laugh. “I doubt anyone else would work for them… well, besides Lily for Potter, I suppose.”

Lily flushed despite herself, a recurring theme today. Maybe she wasn’t so averse to that idea, after all.

None of them said anything about her lack of input for Sirius. It could be seen from miles away even through the thickest clag, this lingering thing between them.

(She hoped they’d figure it out soon, she had a few galleons riding on them.)

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exhaustedcatte · 4 months

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your works got me giggling kicking my feet then sobbing a few seconds later 😭😭 u r a gift!!!!

!!! omg i’ve been smiling so hard over you msg anon😭💗 you’re so kind! thank you so much, it means the absolute world<3 i hope you have a great day!!

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exhaustedcatte · 4 months

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Detention, boys!

“–pair of troublemakers, they are,” Pomona Sprout wailed. “I know it was them, but there’s no way to prove it.”

Minerva, who’d just walked in, already knew who the offending duo could be. “Potter and Black?”

“Potter and Black,” she confirmed. “Charmed all of my Mandrakes to sing! Sing! Can you believe it?!”

A smile unwillingly pulled on the Gryffindor House-head’s mouth.

“What did they sing?” Professor Sinistra asked curiously.

Pomona ducked, shy. “I didn’t recognize the song, but Ms Bones said it was a muggle band called—ehem.” She cleared her throat and whispered, “The Sex Pistols.”

Minerva suppressed a loud guffaw, forced it back down her throat, and allowed a small grimace. Sinistra had no objections, laughing cheerfully.

“I bet you that was all Lupin,” she said, still grinning. “I’ve heard him giving gospels on muggle music with such ardor, you’d have thought he was being paid to advertise.”

Minerva didn’t know muggle music, but she knew her boys. This prank definitely had their signature on it, not just the handle on magic, but the careless display of talent.

Charming those noisy crybaby Mandrakes was no easy feat.

“I’ll hand out detention for the weekend,” Minerva said easily. “Potter and Black for the frontline work, Lupin for definitely pointing them towards the charms and Pettigrew for stealing all of your Mandrakes,” she raised her brows.

Pomona sighed, smiling.

The thing was, it was easy to detain them for smaller, localised pranks. It had their magical imprint all over it. While they had stepped into juvenile delinquency and thrown dung bombs, most of their practical jokes were, well, practical. Neatly studied and practiced. Difficult charms and jinxes. Hexes that Minerva had almost forgotten about since her own school days.

They’d made the suit of armours duel outside the Defence classroom, transfigured every single notebook in their class into origami birds, charmed it to fly away and got them all let off class. Hexed the Slytherins to speak in haikus for two full days. They’d also frozen the Lake into an ice rink in the cusp of summer post-exams. Pranks against which Finite Incantatem were useless. They put a lot of effort into their jokes, which somehow turned out just as remarkable as their neglected schoolwork.

But she’d given them many cauldrons and trophies and broom closets to clean for all of those, because she knew only they could be responsible for such intelligent tomfoolery.

What was difficult to pin on them was larger, vastly spread magic, because their trace was faint when it was distributed wide, mingling with everyone else’s magic. In theory she would put all her money on it being the Marauders, but she couldn’t simply accuse them when no one had seen them out of bed, no misbehaving, nothing. Very mystifying.

Which was why she was effectively silenced when she walked into the Great Hall on Tuesday. Everything seemed fine at first, but then she noticed, after hearing the excited tittering.

The Slytherins were emerald green. Minerva almost marched down to the quartet – the rivalry was telling. But she glanced around and saw the Hufflepuffs drenched in yellow. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were not spared either, dyed in their own house colours.

Minerva peered down her table. The other professors were trying to puzzle out how this had been achieved. She was silently proud that they kept glancing at the four boys on the far end, as if trying to read the answer straight from their brains. They knew no one else was capable of such advanced magic while still being playful.

Minerva looked over to them.

The Marauders were maintaining a strong air of ignorance despite the obvious looks being thrown their way from students and teachers alike.

Remus was stirring his likely fourth sugar into his tea, while Sirius kept nibbling the untouched toast from his friend’s hand. James was roughing his hair up and laughing at something Peter was whispering into his ear. They were also painted a vibrant red, probably as an alibi.

“I know it’s them,” Dumbledore said lowly, eyes dancing with mirth. “But I do think it’s rather spectacular, don’t you agree, professor?”

She huffed a laugh. “Yes.”

It was hard to tack this on them, not when Potter and Black, who despite knowing magic straight out of the womb, would vehemently deny everything and call it a fluke of someone’s luck. Not when Lupin, a severely clever werewolf who often downplayed his own intellect, would disagree politely and be off in that quiet way of his. Not when Pettigrew, the most unassuming and yet the sneakiest of them all, would lie impressively through his teeth.

She sat back and sipped her tea, enjoying the humorous sight of the bright morning sun reflecting off of the colourful skins of her students. But mostly she was observing her band of troublemakers.

They were still hanging off of each other’s shoulders like limpets, clingy and supremely codependent, in the best possible way. She watched Sirius proof-read a parchment Peter had given him. Remus was feeding James his scones and cream, who was trying, futilely, to tame his hair with a bottle of Fleamont’s Hair Gel that had just arrived with the owls.

These idiot boys, she thought fondly.

There would be no way to prove it was them other than their excited footsteps and victorious laughter that echoed through her office later that day.

Minerva McGonagall stepped into the hallway, unable to tamp down the pride in her voice when she called out, “Detention, boys!”

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exhaustedcatte · 4 months

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Remus, dear.

“–What’s got Lupin limping like that, you think?” a Hufflepuff whispered, while Lily and Remus made rounds.

“Potter says he fought a Hippogriff!” the friend replied, sounding awed.

Lily heard a new voice say, “But Black insisted that Lupin fought the Squid naked and the limp was a result of a botched healing spell.”

She turned to raise her brows at Remus, whose ears were quickly turning red.

He turned the corner a step ahead of her and shooed the kids off with a mild, “Off you go, nosy buggers.”

Lily twisted her hair back into a bun. She had also heard Peter tell some of the third years that Remus had been bitten by a Mandrake.

“A Mandrake then?” Lily asked lightly, staring up at him.

Remus shrugged. There was a ghost of a smile on his mouth when he said, “Was that Peter?”

“He said you snuck into the Greenhouse at night to… harvest Marijuana,” Lily blushed at the accusation.

But Remus simply shook his head, muttering, “Fucking Wormtail, ratting me out like that. See if I keep his bedwetting secrets next time we have a movie night.”

Lily barked a surprised laugh. Remus offered a crooked smile, which suggested that he was probably lying about the bedwetting thing. You could never tell with Remus, where a lie ended and the truth began. It was an enviable knack.

They turned down a corridor.

Remus said nothing of her silence; she followed him blankly as he weeded out some gutsy (but frankly stupid) fourth years from broom closets and a few older students from classrooms. Lily stayed resolutely silent, thinking of the many other rumours that shrouded Remus in mystery.

He was pushed into a huller, duelled a giant, was bitten by Grindylows, got into a car/train crash. She could keep going. But they never explained how he’d gotten a new gash down the slope of his collarbone when she saw him yesterday.

“Remus, dear, still on duty then?”

Remus smiled warmly, “Yes, Madame Pomfrey. Lots of delinquents running wild here.”

Lily had only ever seen Pomfrey’s face in a harrowed expression, so the fact that she was smiling was unnerving.

“Mm, you’re rather well versed in that, aren’t you?”

Remus pressed an offended hand to his chest. “You wound me, really.”

It was the kind of response she would’ve expected from Black or Potter, who’d taken to calling the nurse Poppy on their own accord.

Then he blinked, smiled wearily. “No, no, you don’t wound me.” There was an inflection to his voice. As if he meant to say she ‘healed’ him, which, well – Pomfrey was a Nurse, Lily thought helplessly but she felt like she was missing something.

Pomfrey’s eyes softened. “Get plenty of rest, Remus, dear. Or I’ll have your boys to answer to.”

Remus bid her goodnight with a two fingered salute.

“She calls you Remus,” Lily noted curiously. “Not Mr Lupin. She only ever calls me Ms Evans.”

Remus looked over his shoulder at Pomfrey’s retreating back and tilted his head, considering.

“Maybe she’s making a move on me,” he said finally.

“Remus!” Lily cackled.

He grinned at her cheekily, mouth slanting into his cheek with no reservation. He looked so lovely like that; so young and mischievous.

Their conversation was abandoned when Potter came bounding through the halls and yanked Remus by the collar behind him, screaming about the wrath of a Sirius Black.

She last heard Remus cluck, “I thought we learned not to touch his motorcycle collection after last time, Prongs!”

Lily absolutely did not want to know anything about that possibly illegal lark.

God, delinquents. What a misfortune for whomever ended up with them.

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exhaustedcatte · 5 months

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R.A.B

Regulus Arcturus Black was named after one of the brightest stars of the Leo constellation.

He wasn’t the brightest star in the sky though, that was Sirius.

He was, as many people often liked to point out, the absolute opposite of his older brother. Cold, detached, obedient, formal. He was all the synonyms of aloof and vicious that one could associate with the Heir of the Black family, once Sirius had been properly cut off, of course, because till then Regulus was simply the stony, unrelenting Spare.

(He was all of those things until–)

Now, the Leo constellation was obviously a Lion.

Regulus never understood why his parents would choose something so Gryffindor for him. A house they prejudiced against even before Sirius’ sorting. He wondered if he was simply just that unimportant to them.

His first time properly breaking the rules gave him a weird thrill.

Regulus could see the appeal of it for his brother and his little posse, who loved concocting mischief in their free time. He understood now that it was the unbridled freedom to do as you pleased in the wake of the moon as everyone slept, unaware.

He stared down at the pale white shadows of the ghosts and promptly ignored it.

He looked, instead, at his murky reflection in the dark waters and imagined his hair to be bit longer, glossier and eyes a bit brighter, wiser.

I hope I can make you a little bit proud. Even if it’s too late now.

Regulus powered through, and stepped into the light of his name, of his constellation, at the lake, where the inferi haunted the waters.

Regulus was brave.

He knew exactly what needed to be done. He knew what this meant for him as a Death Eater turned defector. He knew that he’d leapt into this recklessly (much like someone else he knew) but he also knew that he had to do it.

Knowledge was power, but knowledge could also be a burden.

Regulus was not about to let it weigh on his conscience when he could just as well do something about it.

So he did something about it.

It was also his last time breaking the rules.

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exhaustedcatte · 5 months

Text

Name one hero who was happy.

James loved easily. James Potter knew love like he knew Magic, both omnipresent in his house. He loved with everything he had, bright and sharp. Love to him was mundane. It was in knowing exactly what teas Remus took throughout the day, knowing how to help Peter with his confidence, knowing how to make Sirius laugh after a rough time. It was the incorrigible simplicity of his actions that should drive you mad, but it really couldn’t. Love to him was easy.

Sirius loved fiercely. Sirius Black didn’t know love as well as he knew Magic. He was proficient at blocking his mind from invasive magic, but he knew naught about accepting a genuine compliment, despite all the (facetious) bragging he did. He loved severely, his love was magnanimous as it was dangerous. It was a target on your back, to belong to him. Love was a challenge he took on, a fuck you to everyone that told him love was not his to take, keep or nurture. His love was fierce.

Remus loved carefully. Remus Lupin knew love out of guilt. He knew, from the tender age of 5, that love could be guilt disguised to ease the pain – his or not, he wasn’t sure. He chose to love those that he knew wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end of a wolf’s affection. He loved with intention, a strong kind. One would not expect it from someone whose M.O.M classification was XXXXX, but Remus bent rules like plastic, his love was a craft built by gentle hands. His love was careful.

Peter loved tentatively. Peter Pettigrew loved like he was afraid he’d be nothing without something to love. He loved out of fear.

As Marauders, they melded together perfectly. James found kith and kin to cocoon with his Love that was like a warm blanket. Sirius found the family he wanted to fight to be with, the Love he needed to protect. Remus found the friends he could be something more than just a secret to, the Love he had to experience. And Peter, of course, found the love he could worship (although, that can be put up for debate).

It was Love.

Unadulterated and pure, as it is amongst friends – blood of the covenant thicker than the water of the womb and all that.

It was exhilaration and joy; it was not distance that made the heart grow fonder, no. It’s the pain that beat the heart to tenderness. The Love that bleeds crimson when cleaved. The kind of Love that remains, in the depths of the person that refuses to acknowledge its existence. Because to love is to hurt.

It was Love, until it wasn’t.

You can’t.

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exhaustedcatte · 7 months

Text

Grimmauld Place

“Yes, yes,” Draco huffed. “Tell Kathleen to ask Robbards instead, I’m only a mere banker, he’s the auror!”

Draco put the receiver down with force, fuming at the audacity of some clients. Even after cleaning up his act, absolutely spotless might he add, some people still found ways to poke through his defences.

Their newest target was Harry Potter, or also known as Draco’s fiancé.

Gringgotts had kindly offered him a spot fresh out of school, after Draco had submitted a letter of referral from both the Headmistress and Arithmancy professor of Hogwarts. It helped that he had vast knowledge about the kind of money that was sent here for safekeeping.

It was only a couple months in that Harry had turned up at his office, with a huge sum left behind by a certain Sirius Black. One thing led to another and Draco promised him a coffee. Now, almost eight years later, Draco was going to be promising him the rest of his life.

“Alright Malfoy,” Pillai strode into his cabin, closing the door behind her with her pencil heel. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to run away,” Draco dropped his head on the table, groaning.

“I bet. Well, your little hunk is out there being sniffed by Skeeter’s rats.”

When Draco lifted his forehead to see Malavika tuck her saree pallu into her skirt, she smiled sinisterly. “Go get your man.”

Draco pulled on his coat and let his glasses drop by the chain around his neck. A quick swipe of his wand and his messenger bag was packed up and ready to go.

“Be a dear for once and tell Cecily I’m clocking out early?” He kissed Malavika’s cheek, in an attempt to disarm her while being sincere with his love.

“I’m always a dear,” she said heatedly to his retreating back, obviously flustered, still unused to being subjected to physical affection.

Harry Potter, as it turned out, had a few tricks up his sleeve. He’d finally learnt to sneak out of the paws of those terrible paps, who still to this day stalked him. It obviously didn’t help that Draco was involved. It made Harry Potter more of a spectacle than ever.

When Draco walked past the camera flashlights unnoticed, he heard a whisper behind his ear-shell telling him to keep going and to take the fire escape out the building. Draco heeded the advice obediently, thrilled at the turn of events.

He felt around him for a solid body after they’d safely exited the lobby and stumbled into the stairwell. Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off to wrap Draco in a hug.

“They were about to raise hell out here and I knew you’d get nasty if they did,” he explained cheekily, mouthing at Draco’s earlobe.

“Damn right,” he murmured, hands settling on the Professor’s waist.

It was still a little disorienting how well they knew each other – Draco was self-aware, it was obvious they’d kept some rather strong tabs on each other but he’d never imagined a reality where’s they’d use the information they’d gleaned for loveable motives.

It made his heart beat loud in his temple, as if a prayer he had memorised.

“So,” Harry continued, “I snuck into the washroom and hid in my cloak. Then stood behind those godawful gnome statues till I heard Pillai shove you out.”

“Good job, Potter, colour me impressed,” Draco nodded, feeling delighted at the steady rise of red up Harry’s throat at the compliment.

“Why did you come anyway?”

“Oh, right! Hermione mentioned there’s a nice thrift store a few blocks from here so I thought we could go look at furniture.”

Harry had disposed most of Grimmauld Place’s rotten furniture. The wood had begun to splinter off, nails popping into the cushions of the chairs, wallpaper peeling away. The whole scene.

Draco, when he had come around, had donated (given as a placeholder in place of– well, himself) his own things from the Manor. Beautiful pieces he couldn’t part with. He never imagined Harry would want to do away with those as well.

“Furniture?”

“Ah, well,” Harry cleared his throat. He sounded much more nervous now.

Draco squeezed his hand, a silent hey, it’s okay.

“Right, um. Since we’re getting married and all,” Harry said quickly, “I thought we could get some new things for around the house. Like a new chapter? Something to start afresh? Just a few things here and there to add on to your collection…”

Harry Potter was a child who was always given hand-me-downs. Very rarely did he use his money to get something for himself either. Draco wanted to smack himself in the head. To think he wanted to build something with Draco? Of course he would agree.

“Lead the way, Potter,” Draco smiled, sweet, all teeth showing.

Obviously relieved, his fiancé whisked him away in a blur of magic to the furniture store.

An adequately well-curated collection stood pristine in the small building. Draco let go of Harry to let him shop while he did some browsing.

Draco, who had been an absolute wizard at Charms (hah! wizard), had picked up a few fun tricks while squatting around in the library, the one place Harry Potter hated entering, searching for ways to one-up the Gryffindor.

In his search, he found a rather curious spell – one that allowed him to see whose belongings were what, to see who last used it and such.

Draco cast the spell on a hat-pin first.

Owner – Candace Higgins. Last Used – Jemma Jones.

Maybe they were mother and daughter or sisters or best friends. Or maybe they were unrelated.

He looked behind, but Harry was in the other end of the room, near the beds, talking to a salesman about prices and such.

Draco picked up a hand-mirror.

Owner – Lucia Phyllis. Last Used – Felipa Phyllis.

It was definitely a collectible, maybe an heirloom. Gold gilded and shiny. He put it back down reverently. Lucia had good taste, whoever she was.

Feeling a bit bold, Draco spelled a bookcase.

Owner – Gideon Bones. Last Used – Susan Bones.

Draco jumped back at the familiar name.

“Excuse me, sir? How far back do these pieces date?”

The salesman looked around the room. “Well, we have some pretty vintage things here – some that we don’t use anymore. We have stuff from the 80s and then more recent things from few years to a few months ago.”

“I see,” Draco said. Harry furrowed his brow in question but Draco smiled to reassure him.

He then began spelling away. Flatware, silk bedclothes (which okay, kind of ew), tables, stools, hats and scarves. All the sort.

Harry Potter was still shuffling around looking at stuff like vases and ink pots. Poor thing had no idea where to begin. But Draco wanted Harry to pick something out for himself by himself, like a present.

But then.

He saw a pair of identical slipper-chairs, a velveteen red, and decided that would go well with the green rug in the salon.

Spell.

Owner – James Potter and Lily Potter. Last Used – Harry Potter.

Draco stopped in his tracks suddenly like he was hit by a Colloshoo.

There was no way. Absolutely one in a million chance.

He spelled it again. Once, twice, thrice, four tim–

“Malfoy,” Harry hissed. “Don’t be spelling things in front of muggles!”

“Harry,” he said, dazed. “Tell me what you see, okay?”

He cast the charm again.

Once again, gooey letters formed over the two soft chairs.

“What the fuck?” Harry muttered. “What?”

“It’s a spell that tells you the owner and the person who had it last. Um.” Draco’s throat felt sticky.

Harry reached over to smooth the fabric. “This is? Mine? My parents’?”

Draco nodded dumbly. “Seems so. Isn’t that lovely?”

“I… yeah. Yeah. But how?”

“I’m guessing someone donated it after…”

Harry ducked his head mutely, overcome by emotion. Draco pet his hair, trying to offer comfort.

“Hello? Good sir, we’d like to buy these here, please!”

The salesman, or owner, by the looks of it, he was the only one in here anyway, ambled to where they were stood. “The chairs? I’m afraid it’s been booked.”

Harry wilted under Draco’s palm. Like flowers drooping under the harsh sun.

“I can pay you double. Please. This belongs to him.” And as a last ditch attempt, “It’s a family heirloom.”

The man raised his eyebrows below his thick hair, finding the heirloom thing ridiculous. But he only replied with, “How can you prove it?”

Harry stood up and put a restraining hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“No no,” Draco frowned. “Listen, sir? Douglas?” he read the name-tag. “We can pay full amount right now. Please?” Draco wasn’t one to beg or plead, but he would grovel for Harry Potter if he had to.

The man shrugged. “Sorry, can’t do nothin’, well, unless the other guys don’t turn up for payment.”

Draco stood away, eyeing the chairs while Harry booked something for the house. He’d already known what he’d wanted apparently.

“Home?”

“Yeah,” Harry said quietly. “Home.”

Draco remained patient till dinner, trying not to pry, but then again, he couldn’t let Harry drown in his head. When they sat down on their leather chesterfield with a glass of red, Draco decided to open the can of worms.

“Potter? Are you alright?”

Harry looked at him for a minute over the rim of his glass while downing his wine. Draco sat nervously still, not backing down.

“Thank you,” he said finally, after polishing it off, shy.

Draco felt his heart melt. “Oh, Harry. Oh, sweetheart.” He set his glass down, and tugged Harry closer.

“No, really, thank you so much.”

Draco blushed. “I didn’t even do anything. We didn’t get the chairs,” he pointed out uselessly.

Harry shook his head, wayward curls flying with his movements. “You tried.”

Then, reminded by the failure of the chair situation he sighed, dejected. Draco hated seeing Harry like that, like an abandoned pup on the curb-side on a rainy day inside a soggy cardboard box.

“Hey, I’m sure if I dig around I’ll find a charm that can play memories from objects, you do own some old things of theirs, right?”

Harry, who was absolute pants at Charms, perked up at that. “You’d do that for me?”

“I would burn the world to keep you warm, Harry Potter,” Draco said seriously, but still laughingly.

He finally cracked a smile.

“Thanks Malfoy.”

“Stop thanking me, I’m not God –although I could be.”

“No,” Harry agreed, smile lines crinkling the skin around his eyes. “You’re too disgusting, too potty-mouthed for that.”

“Pot calling kettle,” Draco sniffed. “I might even venture to say you seem to quite enjoy it.”

“You might have to remind me,” Harry blinked slowly, eyes turning into liquid fire. Draco loved when Harry got like this – all coy and blithe.

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” he inched closer. “Bought us a new bedframe.”

“Oh.”

“Want to test its quality?”

“You’re so on.”

Three weeks later, on Christmas day, after Draco kissed Harry pink for the novelty glass chess-kit, Harry opened Draco’s present. His very enormous and neatly wrapped gift.

Two red slipper chairs which read James, Lily and Harry Potter when spelled.

Draco saw Harry’s lashes lower over his eyes, in an attempt to blink his tears away. Draco let him.

“How?” his voice was tight, strained with emotion.

“Went back to the store,” Draco grinned proudly. “They put it on sale again because it wasn’t paid for, only marked by a couple who never turned up even after a month. So I snatched it up. Scourgified it and well, here it is!”

Harry fisted Draco’s emerald green Weasley sweater in his hands and kissed him roughly, but still sweet, still kind, still grateful.

“Thank you, Draco.”

“Think it’ll read Last Used by Harry and Draco Potter someday?” He asked with a smile, looking at the red chairs.

Harry squeezed his hand. “Stick around and find out for yourself.”

#sorry idk how to end fics #i hope its kinda good but im too sleepy to revise it #drarry #draco lucius malfoy #harry james potter #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry x draco #drarry fanfic #drarry fic #drarry being lovely #just pure feels #fluff #post hogwarts #draco x harry #professor harry

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exhaustedcatte · 8 months

Text

Padfoot

Remus looked out the window of the apartment, the sun was high up in the sky, shining yellow over the unassuming muggles.

The full moon had come and gone three days prior, but Remus could still feel the wolf in the ache in his limbs. He threw the blanket off of himself, sitting upright to assess the state of his bedroom.

It was as clean as he could have it. Nothing broken, nothing torn, which meant Moony must’ve been really exhausted. Few clothes on a rickety rocking chair that was a gift from. Anyway, he loved that chair too much to part with it.

He sighed.

He was definitely going to be kicked out, he couldn’t afford to pay rent in London without splitting with – yeah, he was going to move out before the owner could humiliate him into it. Damn it, he’d quite liked his neighbours here.

Remus brushed and cleaned up as best as he could after having passed out for close to a day post-transformation without treating his wounds. He pulled on the cleanest clothes he could find in the pile on the old rocking chair.

Then Remus carefully applied salve to the newer tears on his skin that the wolf had inflicted and then wrapped it in a few spare bandages that Pomfrey had given to him the last time he’d accidentally apparated onto school grounds after a mission. No more of those at least, he thought bitterly to himself.

Remus steadied himself and leaned against the mirror, shaved his face, washed his hair in the sink because it smelt too much like the iron rust of his shackles.

Finally feeling a bit hungry, he decided to take a stock of his pantry. A loaf of mouldy bread and a tin of soggy biscuits.

“Fucking – god.”

He took another look at the sky, it was really really bright. Surprising for London.

After counting his coins and the bills he had left from doing a bit of plumbing for the unit above his, Remus decided to go get himself some fresh lunch. He deserved that.

He stuck his hand into a drawer, pulled out a long leash, whistled and then – Remus remembered.

Mechanically, he put the long corded thing away, and stuck his arms into a jacket too small, too tight and too leathery for his taste.

When he closed the door behind himself, the echo of the empty house rung in his ears till he reached the little bodega two blocks down.

“Two san– one ham and cheese, please.”

“Right away!”

Remus stuffed the cling-wrap of his sandwich in the pocket of his jacket.

“What’s –”

In the right pocket was a paper that read:

wash moony’s socks

buy prongslet baby food

buy james new hole-less pants

get lily hair ties

order meeting at 6

Baby food. That paper must have been from when Harry was only a few months old. So back when they were absolutely smitten with each other. Why did he –

Remus felt his resolve crumble looking at the neat cursive print.

He ground his teeth. No. No. Remus didn’t ask for anything more than faith. But they’d all gone and jumped to conclusions and –

James?

Remus blinked.

No. He refocused. Just a muggle with unruly hair and soda glasses. Not James. Never James, never anymore, at least. He was gone. Like Lily and Peter and.

Remus inhaled sharply.

“C’mon,” he muttered to himself. “You can’t have a meltdown on the street.”

He walked past a sweet little park he used to visit regularly right after he’d moved to this part of town with.

“Oh, look! Remus, is that you?”

Remus looked up from where he was admiring the gray cobblestone with glassy eyes. “Emily,” he smiled in greeting. “And Walt. How are you?”

It had been a while since he’d last met the couple. They used to make frequent visits to their son and his family in the unit adjacent to his and.

The family had moved out, to stay with their old parents, so he hadn’t seen them in close to four months, especially since he’d stopped walking Padfoot down the road the Russets lived.

“Oh, we’re doing great. My granddaughter got admitted to Exeter, so we’ll be running a visit sometime soon,” Emily beamed proudly.

Remus cracked a real grin. “That’s great! Tell her my congratulations, she must’ve worked really hard.”

“I will!”

Walt, though, appeared to be looking around for something.

“All good, Mr Russet?” Remus asked peeping around for dark robes and wands on foolish wizards.

“Where’s Padfoot? Haven’t seen the big ol’ guy in ages,” Walt said. “Must admit, I kind of miss him.”

Remus’ throat closed up.

“I knew you liked being ambushed by the little fella!” Emily laughed.

“Not that little,” Remus reminded, trying to smile.

“Is he okay?” Emily asked, noticing Remus’ grin slip away. “Walt’s right, I haven’t seen you walk him in a while. I miss hearing about the noise complaints from Ms Burney too.”

The noise complaints only came when there was a scuffle about Remus leaving without any preamble. Which, well, they deserved that.

“Yeah, I do quite miss watching that wack old woman yell at that sweet pup,” Walt laughed, scratching his beard.

Ms Burney only screamed at Padfoot because he had taken to chewing up all her plants. Not because she was wack.

“I saw little Luis at the mart last week and it reminded me of how he’d sit on Padfoot and beg for rides. Gertrude said he’s in preschool now! How quickly time flies!”

How quickly indeed. It felt like only yesterday when he was walking the big black dog. Now he was left with a dog collar and leash that he had no use for.

But he couldn’t break their hearts like his own.

“Padfoot’s at my Mam’s, actually. I took him there a while back.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m planning on moving out.”

“Oh dear, how so?” Emily frowned. Walt tapped her arm reassuringly.

Remus felt the tears build up in his throat at that gesture.

“London’s a bit out of my budget at the moment, and my mam is getting too old for fieldwork.”

“You’re a good son,” Walt said kindly.

No, he thought, just a poor one.

“Thank you.”

“Do bring him if you ever do visit. Which you must!” Emily said. “Send pictures of dear old Padfoot in the meantime, and write me a letter about every silly thing you both indulge in, okay?”

Remus laughed weakly. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll bring Padfoot next time if I can.”

I don’t know if we’ll ever see him again.

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exhaustedcatte · 9 months

Text

Are we doing this here? (yes)

Remus ran his sweaty palms over his suit, which did nothing to dry them off given that the material was very silky.

“My god, Lily, you should’ve asked someone else to sub in,” Remus muttered balefully.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, accent thick – it only ever came out when she was nervous. “You made bigger numbers than Susan when you filled in for her last time.”

“I wish I was knee deep in editing instead,” he said, just to keep the banter going.

Remus wasn’t mad about Lily asking him to fill in for her co-worker, mainly because the carpet they were on was for a Period Era film whose book had him crying for days. No, he was just very out of depth being in front of a camera and not a screen. Besides, this must be what people call Nepotism. Remus was simply an editor, who cuts clips out and makes a nice video out of it. Lily, who’d pulled strings to get Snarky little Remus Lupin out here, did so with the intention of getting him to do some networking.

“No, you don’t, not when Black will be here,” she replied knowingly.

She knew too much, honestly. Lily simply barked a laugh when he told her that.

He tried to settle his nerves by doing a headcount of the reporters on the carpet. He thought he might reach Nirvana once he’d counted upto the 90 mark, but his cameraman starts clicking the little button with such force, Remus is startled out of the ‘counting sheep to sleep’ method he was using.

“Oh my god,” Lily applied her lipstick hastily. “Remus! Remus that’s Dame Minerva McGonagall.”

He bit his lip, trying to contain his own excitement. “Who gets her?”

They were both under the same network, it would make no sense for both of them to interview her with similar questions.

“Do you… do you want it?” Lily asked.

Remus saw the generosity in her offering her role model to him. “Of course not, Lils. I was only pulling your leg.”

She punched his arm. “I was about to replace you with Frank.”

Remus’ cameraman, Frank Longbottom, popped his head from behind the huge camera, “Oh, piss off.”

Minerva strode into their section after getting her photographs taken. Remus stepped away in awe. He’d never been so close to anyone famous, well excluding his one boyfriend – who wrote three love songs about him and then dumped him after the songs blew up. They’d been together at the cusp of his fame. Remus squashed the thought of Caradoc Dearborn, the nation’s favourite Pop Artist, according to Daily Prophet.

“Miss Minerva,” Lily smiled brightly, “you look lovely. Might I know who you’re wearing?”

“Why, you look beautiful yourself,” the woman smiled. “This was a work of Pandora Lovegood.”

“It looks stunning,” Lily reiterated sincerely. She segued into her question smoothly with, “The pantsuit must’ve been easier to wear than traditional Victorian outfits, right?”

“Oh yes,” she nodded. “Many, many layers.”

“This film is also your comeback after two years, how does it feel?”

They’re lucky they secured the entry spot on the carpet, because the other interviewers are likely to ask the same questions as these actors progress down the line.

“It’s very special. I’ve known the director, James Potter, for a few years now and working with him has been lovely because he really eased me into it,” Minerva spoke fondly of James Potter and it was all but a miracle that Lily’s knees didn’t give out judging by the dizzy expression that overtook her smile when her celebrity crush was name dropped. (Remus knew Lily as well as she knew him, so it was never a disadvantage really.)

“The trailer also broke records, have you got any anecdotes to spare about scenes that have been revealed?”

Minerva pondered for a few. “I found it very difficult to chase Sirius around set when he thought dropping seeds on my hat was a good idea. I almost had a pigeon infestation on me.”

“Did you have to run in the gown?” Lily laughed good-naturedly.

Remus also had to hold back a snort at the vivid image of the Dame running behind Sirius Black and a flock of pigeons trailing her.

“Running after him was a personal choice, it wasn’t a shot for the movie,” the actress said primly, making everyone laugh again.

“I wish the movie great success, it was lovely meeting you,” Lily bade her goodbye.

Minerva smiled once again before heading over to the next reporter.

“How was I?” Lily asked.

“Good, but a touch too nervous maybe,” Remus offered honestly.

“Okay.” She spotted Slughorn making his way over to them and straightened, “It’s go time.”

The old veteran was suited up in boring grey slacks and a grey suit jacket with a plain white shirt under. Remus wished there were less boring men’s outfits on the carpet, at least then it’d make it interesting for him to edit these things, it would provide great gossip material.

Lily breezed through the next couple interviews, trying to shuffle her questions between them to make it less monotonous for both parties.

When Narcissa Malfoy finally sashayed away, Lily slugged half of Remus’ ginger lemon tea. “This thermos is god sent, the tea is so warm.”

“I know. It was Caradoc’s last christmas present. But it’s so good, I couldn’t justify throwing away just because he was a shit ex.”

“His money anyway,” Lily winked. Her voice sounded too hoarse.

“Want me to go?” Remus asked.

Her shoulders slumped, a bit relieved. “I would appreciate that.”

Remus steadied his mind, just a few questions and that’s all there was. You can do this, you got this, it’s just a few minutes and – Holy fucking god.

Marlene McKinnon stepped out of her car in a sequinned dress, thigh high slit and tall pumps.

Remus managed to snag her first out of the sea of interviewers.

“Good evening,” he smiled. “You look gorgeous, very old Hollywood.”

Her blonde hair was pinned up, lips painted blood red, mole under her eye, black sequinned dress glimmering in the flashes of the cameras.

“Thank you so much, but I have to thank Fortescue for this.”

Her ability to understand cues was very well appreciated by Remus.

“I must say, your role in the movie seems to be rather demanding psychologically,” Remus started off strong, “judging by the book and the trailer, of course.”

Marlene blinked away her surprise fast. Women were usually not asked about their character’s personalities very often.

“Harriet is a bit of a character,” she said eagerly. “She’s too strict on herself and clearly a bit emotionally constipated,” Marlene laughed.

“Was it difficult to recover from that kind of a role?”

“It was,” Marlene’s surprise bled into her voice. “Harriet’s strictness with herself often translated into her constantly picking herself apart so my confidence did see it’s ups and downs.”

“And she’s also Irish!“ Remus redirected towards something lighthearted. “How was working the accent for you?”

“I’m so used to London, it took a lot of work to get my pronunciation as close to a native as I could,” she admitted sheepishly.

Remus grinned, watch pulsating silently on his wrist. “Well, Harriet, I wont keep you long, for your duties call you elsewhere.”

“Wow,” Marlene laughed, “you’re better than Sirius, man!”

“I wouldn’t make it past auditions, Marlene,” he deadpanned.

She giggled. “Give yourself some credit. Sirius only remembered his dialogues when he had to whinge about me.”

Remus shifted back, on his hip, “Harriet, dear, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Marlene guffawed, “Oh, you’re good.” She waved as she was led away.

Remus didn’t get a refractory period when the next actor swarmed in.

After six successful interviews Remus started to loosen up. He managed to land a few jokes based on the knowledge of the actors and their characters.

“Are you the interviewer that Marls said I had to meet?”

Remus turned around.

Sirius Orion Black.

He was wearing proper Victorian attire. A ruffled white blouse, a midnight blue paisley vest with gold embroidery, charcoal slacks and tailcoat. His hair was tied back with a gold ribbon. God. He looked delectable.

Remus’ brain sent pure dumb into his head and he fish-mouthed. “You cut quite a figure in that suit.”

“It’s an Ollivander custom,” Sirius grinned, eyes shining. Oh, his smile. “I see you’re dressed to star alongside me too!”

Remus cracked a smile. No one had commented on his commitment to the part yet. He was also similarly in Victorian garbs, but he decided to take a simpler route by thrifting and sewing them himself.

“It’s a Remus Lupin special,” he said. After a pause, he motioned to himself, and added, “I’m Remus Lupin.”

“You’ve got quite the talent in suit making, Lupin. Want to make one for me next time?” Sirius leaned in close. Remus could smell the decadent notes of vanilla and coffee in his perfume.

“I’m not all that talented,” Remus said modestly. “I might be better at taking a suit off than putting it on you.”

What the hell am I doing? On Broadcast! Oh, he’s so fired. Lily pinched his arm from behind.

But Sirius Black grinned widely, very obviously looking him up and down, “You certainly have the permission.”

Remus smirked. “Alright now, let’s keep it media-friendly. Tell us, Sirius, you’ve taken on the role of Sir Fitzwilliam Grey, who is notoriously difficult. What was being such a frustrating man like?”

“Frustrating,” Sirius laughed. “He definitely was written well, but boy, he got on my nerves a bit.”

Remus also smiled, agreeing, “It’s true, the book almost made me pull my hair out.”

“You can pull my hair instead,” Sirius winked.

Remus swallowed, before smiling brightly. “Ah, but I don’t put out until the fourth date at least.”

Sirius snorted, “I was talking about braiding my hair.”

“Mm, either ways, I am good with my hands.”

Sirius hid his face in his palms, shoulders shaking with laughter. Remus felt proud of himself for making this man laugh. God, he looked really beautiful.

“So,” he cleared his throat at Frank’s pointed gaze. “James Potter is your best friend and this isn’t your first production together. But you mentioned this project was very close to you, why so?”

“I grew up in a family like Grey’s, so I could understand why he behaved the way he did – I was much like him until I met James. So now I’m not welcome home anymore,” Sirius snickered lightly. This news was known to the public for a while, but it was still a sore subject.

“You’re welcome to my home anytime,” Remus winked, trying to make it lighter on the viewers.

This time, Sirius actually blushed. “I’ll make a note of that.”

“Your first film was also a period era movie, was it nostalgic going back to your roots, in a sense?”

“A little. I was too nervous to experience everything the first time, so this felt like redemption,” Sirius said. Then he broke into a jive, “Redemption is leaving the man you dreamed of~”

Jesus. Caradoc Dearborn through the mouth of Sirius. But Sirius had a really nice voice, rich and robust.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I keep singing that song, must be because I’ve been hearing it a lot on the radio.”

“Yeah, me too,” Remus said stiffly. Lily snorted into her palm.

“Oh?”

“Er, my ex… he was a huge fan of, um, Caradoc Dearborn,” Remus felt his eye twitch.

“Oh.”

“He’s my ex,” Remus shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. If he left you, then he was probably a right Fitzwilliam Grey, eh,” Sirius giggled. “Or like, Earl Grey. A bit basic.”

“You’re right.” He leaned in a bit, heart jumping when Sirius mirrored his action. “I much prefer it Black.”

Sirius’ ears were slowly getting red, probably like his own. “Everyone likes black tea, Remus.”

“We all have good taste,” Remus nodded importantly, willing himself to stand his ground.

His watch beeped, breaking the moment. “Oh, we’ve run out of time. Have you got any last remarks?”

“I hope you watch the movie,” he said to the camera. “And let me know how it is,” he turned to Remus.

“Well, it has been a pleasure to talk to you Mr Black,” Remus smiled his professional smile.

“You too, Remus,” Sirius said softly. “I will see you sometime.”

That sounded like a promise if he’d ever heard one.

Sirius strode away, but Remus noticed him peeking back at where he was stood.

“What on Earth was that Remus?” Lily squealed. “How can we possibly use this footage?!”

“We can, I think. It’s guaranteed views, Lils,” Frank interjected.

Remus blushed. “Sorry, I don’t know what got over me.”

“Thinking with the wrong organ, most likely,” Lily muttered, but she sounded too fond and too impressed to be mad.

“Most likely,” Remus echoed, once again on the receiving end of The Sirius Black smile.

His phone rang six times before he even considered picking it up.

“Hey,” he croaked. “I met the deadlines and uploaded it yesterday evening.”

Lily, who had been pestering him to get the interview out before the movie’s first day, didn’t utter a word.

“Lils?”

“Have you seen the comments?”

Oh, god.

Remus sat up in his bed, blankets falling in a pool around his naked torso. “Should I?”

“Yes.”

He pulled up the video, and immediately was stunned by the 2.3 million views on it. “Holy shit?”

“Read the comments, lad.”

laralare: um id tap his ass too sirius, get in line

beyzoz: not in front of my saladfsusjro?!

flour: am i jealous of sirius or remus lupin?

patricknorth: 6.57 im gay now

gillian: look at the eYES sirius makes when remus mentions his ex!!

hollyhollyday: the blatant flirting?! jail. my single ass is sobbing at 2am

freyja: i like lupin. we need him on more carpets.

doorathea: sirius looks so hot, id hit too. so yeah, remus was just being gay, not unprofessional.

Remus laughed incredulously at the number of comments in support of this tomfoolery.

“Now, Remus, I want you to breathe and go on Twitter.”

“Lily!”

Twitter was flooded with trends. About Him. And Sirius. Together.

#remusirius

#sirius black flirting

#remus lupin

Remus found many tweets – mostly laughing at the pair and dissecting the interaction. But it had felt so natural even to Remus so he had left it in, thinking it was amusing. Clearly everyone agreed.

The topmost tweet however.

SiriusBlack:

Last night was one of my favourite nights ever. I hope tonight you all can enjoy the movie too. Dress victorian, thrift and sew your outfits, have some fun!(a borrowed idea) when in rome, do as the romans do, (or is when in remus more apt? lol) enjoy!!

Remus screamed into his phone, blushing at the innuendo.

“His publicist loves you or hates you.”

“Let’s hope she’s obsessed with me, because.”

“Uh oh, Remus. Remus, what are you doing?”

“Nothing!”

RJLupin: im going to the movie w my best friend this weekend.

SiriusBlack: oh he’s in my dms now

RJLupin: too presumptuous?

SiriusBlack: the right amount i think.

text me here– xxx

“Remus…?”

“Might’ve scored a date with Fitzwilliam.”

“Remus! Caradoc could never!”

Remus laughed.

(a/n: based on a prompt i saw on pinterest lol. can you tell i can’t flirt for my life. or that i have no idea how red carpets work? i wrote this at arse o’ clock, so please excuse the lack of research and feasible scenarios that went into this. i hope it put a smile on your face at least.)

140 notes · View notes

exhaustedcatte · 1 year

Text

Teddy Remus Lupin

“Ted! D’you mind helping me clear out the attic?” Andromeda Tonks yelled from the kitchen.

The taffy-haired boy slung his arm across her shoulders as he veered his grandmother towards the stairs. “Yeah, ‘course I’ll help, but what’s the occasion?”

“We haven’t enough rooms for guests.”

Teddy shrugged.

They made their way into the attic, a spacious cavern with cardboard boxes piled high along the perimeter.

Andromeda handed Teddy a cloth and a duster to arm himself with, and then set to work.

The pair removed the boxes and Teddy found numerous playthings and toys, all from his childhood.

“We can sterilise them and give them to Hermione. She is expecting, isn’t she.”

“Oh Ted,” Andromeda clapped her hands together, “that’s a lovely idea.”

Andromeda levitated the boxes downstairs, to pass on to the kids and what was unusable was to be donated.

They worked in tandem, occasionally pausing to rifle through obscure Black Family possessions and some of his grandfather’s muggle keepsakes. Teddy pocketed an interesting looking device – a Walkman, it said. He didn’t want it to end up in the Weasley bin and have Arthur fiddle with it.

The doorbell rang when they were halfway through. Teddy unloaded the last of his toys into a plastic bin, and jumped over miscellaneous trash to open the door.

“Hiya Ted!” Harry grinned.

And at the same time, Draco smiled, “Hello, Edward.”

“Hey guys!” He huffed a laugh, “How come you’re both here?”

“Surprise,” Harry ruffled his hair.

His uncle shook his head in disagreement, “Your knuckle-headed godfather must’ve forgotten that today was my turn to have you.”

“Did not!” Harry pressed an offended hand to his chest.

Draco rolled his eyes at Teddy and behind him Harry mouthed ‘kinda did’.

“Teddy! Who is it?”

“It’s just Draco and Harry, grandma,” Teddy yelled back.

“Where’s your grandmother?” Draco asked him, politely sidestepping the mess that had been levitated into the drawing room.

“We’re cleaning the attic, she didn’t want anyone sleeping on the couch, so.”

“We’ll help, let’s get your grandma out of that allergy box,” Harry clapped Teddy’s back.

“I’m allergic to dust,” Draco sniffed delicately.

Harry raised a brow, blinking in disbelief, “Could’ve fooled me when you followed me to the most cruddy places, Malfoy.”

“Aunt Andromeda! Let’s get that finished for you,” Draco marched ahead, neck growing pink below his mullet.

The three boys sent Andromeda down to bake her infamous biscuits, while they tidied the place.

“So, which one of us are you banishing to up here?” Draco asked, lifting his hands to levitate boxes downstairs.

“Can’t you just use your wand, you showoff?” Harry jested.

“I don’t have my wand on me Potter, and it’s not like you don’t know how to forgo using your wand.”

Teddy ignored the banter. “I’m actually thinking I’d like this place for myself.”

Harry pivoted on his foot, “That would be wicked.”

Draco lifted another box and was magicking that downstairs when he bumped into Harry and the things in the box came pouring out.

“I swear to fucking Merlin, Potter,” Draco began, as Harry moved away – hands raised in surrender, but Teddy accidentally interrupted him.

“What the hell is that?”

“Language,” Draco murmured absently, kneeling down as well.

There was a huge album, embossed RJ. Lupin, crammed to the brim with pictures.

“Wow,” Harry breathed, touching the cover reverently.

“That’s not…” Teddy looked up for confirmation. “That’s my dad’s.”

Draco hesitantly opened the book.

Inside were pictures Teddy had never seen before.

There were photographs of four young boys, round faced and bright eyed. Pictures of them wearing matching scarves, all of them bundled in one huge sweater, them sporting matching butterbeer ‘staches. Four boys doing absolutely everything together.

The tawny haired kid, despite the thin silvery scars on his knuckles, had the biggest smile on his face. He stared hard at it, trying to burn it into memory, swallowing the growing ball of heat in his throat.

“Dad,” Harry smiled sadly, tracing a photo of James Potter tackling Remus in a hug. “I used to hear that I looked exactly like him for all my life. I don’t anymore.”

The implication was obvious. Harry was now older than James had gotten to be.

“You still look very similar. He was a handsome man, your dad,” Draco rubbed Harry’s back consolingly.

“Calling me handsome, Malfoy?”

“Take it as you will.”

The next few snapshots were of Remus, Sirius and James. Heads bent over a huge piece of parchment, fitted smartly in dress robes, pie-faced on halloween, wearing Santa hats.

Then came another year.

Remus was visibly the tallest of the quartet. He had shot up severely, his face was more rugged, almost roguishly handsome. A shadow of stubble on his face, hardened jaw, a strong nose. He had shed the last shreds of childish innocence, to give way to a handsome young lad. But even still, his big amber eyes, even through pictures, were so kind. Love omnipresent in them.

Remus was shot studying, or gallivanting with his troop in all the photos. He was stooped over a wrinkly hand (Teddy wondered if it was Hope Lupin) painting the nails a pale pink. Remus was in the library, the kitchens, the astronomy tower, all after bed-time. Teddy felt relief bubble up in him, his father had had fun in his time at Hogwarts, no matter the circumstances.

Draco turned the page.

There were a lot of pictures of whom Harry identified as Sirius Black. The man had had an incredibly handsome youth. Beautiful grey eyes, long shiny hair, cuttingly high cheekbones. His complexion pallid, a shock against the ink black of his hair. His heart shaped face drew stop at a pointy chin.

Where Remus looked hardened, Sirius appeared delicate. The Black genes were strong, he recognised a lot of Andromeda in his grand-uncle.

“He was quite the looker,” Draco acknowledged.

Teddy noticed through the corner of his eye how Harry kept looking at Sirius and back at Draco. He also seemed to find the Black genes in a relative, just like Teddy had.

There was a picture of Sirius laughing at something a girl beside him was saying. The red-head had appeared in many photos as the boys grew.

“My mum,” informed Harry.

Sirius was captured sticking his tongue out at Peter, tackling James, hugging a few other friends. All candid. Teddy assumed it was his father taking these pictures.

More artistic shots of the Black family heir were also pasted in the album – Sirius teetering on the edge of a balcony, downing a glass of wine, holding his wand up in lumos, standing against a bike in a parking lot dressed in leather.

“That’s a whole lot of Sirius,” Teddy noted quietly.

And then they flipped another page. Remus – expertly blowing a smoke-ring.

A shocked laugh escaped Teddy, “Is he holding a cigarette?!”

“Your father and his friends were quite the troublemakers, don’t be fooled by all the pictures of them studying,” Harry laughed fondly.

Draco agreed, smiling, “He retained that streak for mischief. It’s what helped him cope, I suppose.”

There was a whole spread of shaken photographs, giving away that the person behind the camera was either inexperienced or a pureblood, possibly both. All the photos were of his father. Reading, drinking tea, rolling weed, dancing too.

“My father was so cool,” he realised.

“We’d have made good friends,” Draco mused. “Maybe in another life.”

“If your head were less inflated, maybe.”

“Shut up, Potter.”

Then there were photos of just Sirius and Remus together.

There was not a hair’s gap between them in that timeframe. Them in a music shop, pointing at a stack of records. Remus reading to Sirius. Remus, Peter and Lily Potter holding up a banner for their two quidditch boys. Sirius playing with Remus’ hair. Remus applying kohl on Sirius’ eyes. The two of them laying beside each other under the shade of a tree. Them laughing, smiling, even crying.

Them kissing.

“What.”

It was a very clear photo. Remus was kissing his best friend. They were stood in the middle of an empty apartment, cardboard boxes stacked high behind them.

“What the hell?” Teddy asked weakly, head spinning at this knowledge.

“Er…” Harry turned to Draco, who also seemed at a loss of words.

And then there were more. Teddy could see in their eyes the amount of love they had for each other. Absolute adoration.

“Oh my god,” Teddy gasped at the scandalous photo. Even Harry’s eyes bugged out.

The two men were clearly not dressed below their bed linens. Sirius had draped himself over Remus’ tan chest. Both of them sound asleep.

“Well, what can I say. Seems like they had fun and I respect that,” Draco shrugged, trying to appear unfazed, but there was a distinct flush on his skin.

The photos ended abruptly after a series of shots of the Potter family and themselves. That’s when the war took a toll on them.

They closed the album silently. The quietness extended till Teddy cleared his throat.

“So… my dad and Sirius had a thing?” He asked, trying to be casual.

“I didn’t know,” Harry said honestly. “But seems so, huh.”

“Mum did mention once that Sirius was a disgusting faggot. Now look, I am too,” Draco laughed.

“It’s not disgusting,” Teddy assured hastily. He had to say it aloud, he owed it to his father, his uncle.

Harry agreed vehemently. “It doesn’t matter!”

Draco smiled at them, “I know, but thanks Ted, Potter.”

Teddy moved the album into his own plastic bin, to keep it safe.

The trio turned their attention to the rest of the things spilled on the hardwood floor.

Teddy sifted through the heap.

There were envelopes with letters; unsent, he guessed. Thick stacks of postcards, all addressed to some town in Wales. There were other things, but he wouldn’t ever know the reason his father had kept them. Quidditch jerseys with POTTER and BLACK printed on the backs, broken rectangle glasses, some sort of muggle board game. Banners with Gryffindor painted onto it. Records of ABBA, Queen, David Bowie, Frank Sinatra – the covers of which had a small Love, Lily scrawled on them. Parchments of recipes, all signed in the end with Cheers, Pete.

“Oh Remus,” Harry sighed.

Teddy blinked back his tears.

This entire house held the life of his mother, and he loved that a lot. To be able to learn of her in her own childhood home. Teddy had inherited his mother’s ability to shape-shift. He was also a Hufflepuff like his mum.

He didn’t know what of him was Remus.

But McGonagall promised him that she saw a lot of Remus’ personality in him; in his driven attitude, snark, in his pranks and his extreme love for chocolates and tea and sweets. She always smiled at him with pride and a tinge of reminiscence.

Teddy’d had nothing materialistic of his father, whose life even Andromeda knew only from the two years shared in Hogwarts. And he was suddenly gifted with more of his father’s post mortem possessions than he knew what to do with, but he’d keep them safely, he’d protect all of what was left of Remus.

Teddy ran his fingers along the edge of a photo frame. The picture inside was unlike those in the album, it was definitely a magicked one. Sirius was kissing the corner of Remus’ mouth, whose lips were stretched into a wide smile. The photo cut off right when the boys began to crack up.

“He was happy. He was in pain every month, but still so happy.”

“Ted,” Harry raised his head up. “Your dad loved you to pieces. He went through a lot, but he found people to love, and you were one of them.”

Draco affirmed this with a silent nod.

Teddy knew that, of course. In his room, in glass frames were pictures of him as a child, being held by his parents. Remus was obviously ecstatic, staring lovingly at the little cherub in his arms. Teddy didn’t doubt for a second that his father loved him. It was visible. Just as it was in his pictures with Sirius.

Teddy gathered all of the things and carefully placed them in his box, to keep in his room and to go through them leisurely.

They cleaned the attic in record time, when the smell of Andromeda’s baking wafted up and tickled their noses.

She distributed teacups and placed a platter of cookies on the teapoy.

“Grandma,” Teddy began hesitantly after they settled on the sofa.

“Yes?”

“Tell me about my dad and Sirius? Please?”

She froze midway pouring Harry a cuppa. “How did you–?”

“Remus had an album,” Draco explained softly, apologetic. “Evidence is plentiful.”

She laughed a little to herself, “Oh, of course. He had a habit of preserving all kinds of bits and bobs, your dad.”

Teddy sat up curiously. “Why?”

“I think he believed that if he didn’t have a memory of it, it didn’t exist. Things were always ripped away from him…”

It became solemn.

“So, did Sirius introduce you to Remus ever?” Draco sipped his tea.

Andromeda got a faraway look in her eyes, “It was the first time Remus had entered this house. Hand in hand with my cousin, who had been cut off and disowned then. He was the only one I trusted with Sirius’ heart. My cousin had grown up without love, but Remus was so patient and loving. And I’m certain Sirius was also the same.”

“Dad loved him, didn’t he?”

His grandmother smiled, wistful at the edges. “The two of them were the closest I will believe of soulmates. Opposites in many things but united in their values, experiences and such. He loved my Dora a lot, truly, but him and Sirius were like a house on fire.

“Even to an onlooker, they made an interesting pair. Where James and Sirius were the obvious duo, Remus and Sirius had a different dynamic built on very similar behaviours. Both stubborn, loyal to a fault, smart; even the childhood they experienced was riddled with guilt, shame, trauma. And where you could tell how much of a brother James was to Sirius, Remus meant to him very differently, and it showed.”

Harry had polished off his tea. “They deserved a happier ending…”

“Life owed them at least that,” Andromeda agreed sadly.

“Maybe they will meet again. The cycle of intertwined lives never end when two people are in love,” Draco leaned against Harry’s shoulder, unaware.

Teddy prayed silently that wherever his father was, he had gotten to meet his friends again. He hoped Sirius and Remus would get another chance at experiencing life together.

The dog star shone bright, in the night sky, beside the moon.

108 notes · View notes

exhaustedcatte · 1 year

Text

Professor Lupin

“The weirdest thing just happened,” Remus strides into the common room a little dazed.

James and Sirius are bouncing scraps of parchment on a snoozing Peter’s forehead when Remus makes his announcement.

The two boys flick the last piece of paper, with the combined force of two incredibly talented Quidditch players, onto Peter’s head to wake him up; it does the trick, the poor mouse jerks awake.

“Well, what gives, Moony?” James asks curiously.

Remus brews a cup of tea and heaves himself into the armchair beside Peter.

“I went to retrieve my books from Charms, right? Flitwick wasn’t there, but his first years had already seated themselves,” Remus explains. “And when I walked in all the chatter died down, and the class stood up to greet me.”

Sirius raises a manicured brow. “Isn’t the respect a good thing?”

“No, they said Good Morning Professor,” Remus pitches his voice high as he stresses the greeting.

His focus on the enactment leads him to stirring his peppermint tea with a quill instead of a spoon.

Peter gently removes the ceramic mug from his hand, setting about to brew him a proper cup. Relieved of the fragile object in his hands, Remus smiles gratefully at his friend – now able to gesticulate the severity of the matter.

James cackles wildly, “They assumed you were the professor?”

“So everyone is finally catching our drift,” Sirius adds, smiling like a proud mother. “Good on you, Moons.”

“What about me screams Professor?” Remus scoffs.

The response, unexpectedly, comes from Peter. “I wonder what about your white shirt, sweater vest and slacks make you look like a dignified Oxford grad, Moony, I really wonder.”

“But I wear our uniform,” the boy points out, “doesn’t that make it obvious that i study here and not teach.”

“But I don’t think I’ve seen you in robes since the first day of class, years ago Moony,” Sirius rebuttals with a laugh.

“You look like the muggles in the films that Lily brings in those cassettes,” James nods. “It’s definitely your sweaters.”

“It’s much too warm for a proper jumper, but cold enough for a vest,” Remus argues half-heartedly.

“It’s not just that, you’re tall and smart and so –” Sirius interrupts himself. “You just emanate this professor-y aura. I, personally, find it incredibly sexy,” he winks.

“The point, my dear Moony,” James pushes his glasses with his shoulder. “Is that you’re like a teacher, and it’s not just your clothes.”

Given Remus’ conflicted expression, he definitely disagreed.

“Mr Lupin,” McGonagall beckons him into her chamber. “Please sit. How are your classes?”

“I’m enjoying them, Professor,” Remus replies, nicking two sweets from her glass jar.

The sudden pursing of her lips indicates her increased efforts to hide her smile. Remus knows she loves it when he jests with her.

“And I have heard,” she composes herself, “that you have been a wonder in Ms Sharma’s class. She doesn’t spare kind words easily, but she speaks of you very highly.”

“Defence is especially interesting,” Remus deflects the compliment, but his pinking ears deceive him.

Minerva’s eyes glint. “And what of Potions? Are you glad you dropped it?”

“I think Professor Slughorn is happier about that,” Remus snorted.

“Well then, what are you thinking of pursuing after N.E.W.Ts?”

The conversation drew up to a blank.

Remus chewed on the inside of his cheek. She had asked him the same question the last two sessions as well, and he had replied with a half-hearted I’m still exploring my options. They both knew his array of choices were rather limited.

“Don’t think too hard Remus,” she pats his hand kindly. “You’ll do just fine in whatever you choose.”

“You don’t think Ms Pince would let me be a Librarian here, do you?” He jokes.

The Gryffindor house-head cracks a small smile, “I think she would be more disappointed that you’re selling yourself too short.”

Not much leaves Remus speechless, given his constant company of troublemakers (he can talk about objectively repulsive things now without batting an eye or blocking his nostrils, he’s developed an immunity to things that would leave others flabbergasted). But this does leave him a little stunned.

“Don’t you have a study group to attend to? Or is it the Duelling Club?”

Remus snaps out of his stupor in record time, piling his pockets with a few more toffees from McGonagall’s glass dish.

He looks at the clock hanging behind her wide-eyed. “Duelling Club. Merlin’s balls, I haven’t any time to prepare. Shit, I didn’t mean to swear. Ah fuck, I did it again, didn’t I?”

McGonagall covers her mouth with her fingers, physically restraining a laugh. It would be inappropriate to encourage his vulgarity so openly. Not that she actually minded it, she had grown used to the potty-mouth that Lupin was.

He pauses for a second, and smiles sheepishly. “You know what, I’ll let myself out. G’night, Professor.”

Minerva watches fondly, as the boy straightens out of his slouch to scurry to the library to tend to his younger peers. She hopes he will see in himself what the rest of the world sees in him.

The last moon was just under a week ago, and according to James’ dramatic renditions of their treks that night, Moony had gone mental. And now Remus was left with a muscle ache in his arms.

After his last class, Care of Magical Creatures, for the day, Remus trudges slowly across the grounds, inhaling the crisp autumn air. He mentally creates plans of lazing by the fireplace with a mug of tea and a Sirius Black, it would be the best way to unwind.

His plans don’t get the chance to develop any further because that’s when he hears a resounding crash.

“Mona!” he hears a terrified shriek. “Merlin! I knew we shouldn’t have tried it on our own!”

Trouble not only follows him, it also seeks him out specifically.

Remus speeds his walk to the source of the sound. The huge oak tree shelters two frightened girls, and by the looks of it, Mona – he assumes – has definitely snapped a bone.

“‘ello,” He smiles his kindly, “I’m Remus. Are you alright? I heard the yell.”

“I’m Imaan. This is Mona, she was trying the spin that got Regulus Black the snitch today afternoon,” the young Slytherin explains, her hands flitting over her friend in terror.

Remus makes a mental note to congratulate Regulus and then placate James and Sirius.

Mona groans in pain, shifting her weight onto her bottom and kicks her broken broom away feebly. “Turns out its not advisable to try it beside a tree.”

Remus kneels beside the pair, “D’ you mind if i take a look?”

She nods affirmatively, going pale in the face.

“It’s not mangled, is it?” Imaan panics about Mona’s pallid appearance.

“No,” he reassures them and gently draws her arm out from her body. His monthly visits to the infirmary have taught him a lot. And this was a clean snap, which was an easy fix for him.

One wand-less Episkey later, her limp hand is sturdy again. Remus taps on it a few times to check if it had healed.

“Right,” he helps her up, “you’re good as new.”

The stare at him with pure admiration. “Oh, thank you so much!! We would have gotten into so much trouble otherwise! Thank you, really!”

Remus laughs, “Don’t sweat it, it was no trouble. Now, I must remind you not to try such tricks alone. Besides, I’m sure Regulus would help if you asked.”

“Do you think?” they blink up at him.

“Yes,” he nods sagely. “He would love to help.”

The girls thank him again and skedaddle, heads together in excitement.

Remus also leaves, satisfied. James and Sirius would love the little harmless lark he just pulled on Regulus – who couldn’t entertain a child to save his life, because he was the youngest of the Black family.

“You’re somewhat of a legend now Moony,” Sirius throws his bag onto his bed before climbing into Remus’ bunk.

“That’s nice,” Remus replies, not really paying attention. His homework wasn’t going to write itself, even if it was due only next week.

“The youngsters are incredibly protective of you,” Sirius informs him, laying his head down on his boyfriend’s shin.

“Is that right?”

“A fourth year Hufflepuff sucker punched one of Snape’s goons.”

“Say what now,” he sits up, alarmed.

Sirius smirks, fiddling with Remus’ pant leg languidly. “Minnie allowed it, you know. Rosier was starting shit again and I was gearing up to crack his skull open but I got beat to the punch.”

Remus ignores the pun. “Was it worth a cuffing though?”

“He was saying something about you being a swot and a suck-up and other things that I will not repeat. Regular bullshit from a jealous person, seeing as his grades are plummeting worse than Malfoy on a broom. And next thing I know, this little runt stalks up to him and throws a feisty punch,” Sirius relays the incident excitedly.

Remus watches the mono-act with slight amusement.

Sirius punches the air, “Don’t you dare speak about Remus like that.” He turns back to Remus with an amused smile, “He walked off after that, with kids from your study groups following him in solidarity.”

“I… fuckin’ hell. Did he get hurt?”

“Looked proud of himself more than anything. Minnie docked points from Slytherin for unprovoked fighting and gave the kid a detention with Sprout. Convinced me that she loves you the most.”

Before Remus could reply, there’s a knock at their door. Sirius unlatches it, to reveal a cluster of tittering third years.

“Hi, Remus. Are you busy?” Quentin asks.

There goes his homework time.

“Erm, no, not really. Is something the matter?”

“Would you mind helping us out with Defence? Professor Sharma told us to ask you, if you were free to tutor us.”

Sirius grins elatedly. “Right then. Professor Lupin, why don’t you take this classroom down, eh, I promise I’ll do my homework.”

“Alright.” He kisses Sirius goodbye and follows the group into the common room where the third year girls were pacing in anticipation.

“He came!” they cried in delight.

“Quite a Casanova you are, Remus,” Marlene raises her brows emphatically. “Teach me your ways, Great One!”

“Take that stick out your arse and kiss Dorcas, god knows how long she’s been waiting,” he whispers back. Remus doesn’t stay to hear Marlene’s stuttering.

He makes a pot of tea and gathers the group beside the fireplace. They sit in an eager semicircle in front of him.

“Alright, let’s begin with Bowtruckles. That’s what Sharma is doing in class next week, right?” Remus rolls his sleeves up.

“Mr Lupin,” McGongall looks up from grading her essays, surprised. “Do come in, is something the matter?”

“Good evening, Professor. Terribly sorry for interrupting,” He prattles nervously.

She adjusts her glasses. “You didn’t turn the Great Hall upside down like last time, did you?”

“That wasn’t us,” he protests weakly.

McGonagall waves her hand dismissively. “No one else can manage that kind of magic, Mr Lupin. So what is it? Running interference for Potter? Sirius having trouble with his, ah, his family?”

“Er, no, it’s something else.”

She waits patiently for him to gather his bearings.

“Do you think,” he starts, “that I’d make a good teacher?”

The smile he gets from McGonagall is nothing short of proud.

“I think that would be a very wise choice. You know, Ms Clarksworth and Ms Hassan were singing praises of your wand-less magic? They didn’t give much context, but they were very taken by you.”

Remus blushes under his golden skin.

“And the first years?” she shakes her head. “Remus, I think you’ve got an extensive fanbase, but also a very loyal army. Take pride in your efforts; your passion is palpable. But your talents are also unmatched.”

“So you’d encourage it if i wanted to pursue teaching Defence?”

“Indeed. I look forward to teaching alongside you at some point,” she smiles.

“Then I’d like to become a Defence against Dark Arts professor.”

She pushes the bowl of sour candy towards him. “And a mighty good one, at that.”

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