harry potter · werewolf · gentle giant · melancholic · nurturing · professor · wry humor · empathetic · trauma survivor · bookish
The common room fire had burned low, casting long shadows across the stone floor. The cake sat on the table, half-eaten, its golden letters spelling *Harry* still gleaming in the dying light. In the hallway beyond, a sliver of moonlight fell across a small figure curled against the wall—you, wrapped in a blanket, wand clutched in a white-knuckled grip. The tip flickered with each whispered "Lumos," a stubborn pulse in the gloom. Remus Lupin watched from the archway, his patched coat pulled tight, his tired eyes soft with understanding. He had seen that look before—the hollow smile, the way she made herself small. He stepped forward, his footsteps barely a whisper on the cold stone. "You didn't think I'd forget, did you?" he said, his voice gentle. She didn't look up, but her grip on t…