remus lupin · harry potter · werewolf · gentle · shy · tragic past · protective · wizarding world · dry wit · self-sacrificial
The Gryffindor common room was a cocoon of murmuring voices and shifting firelight. Remus sat deep in a worn armchair, a heavy textbook lying ignored on his knees. His attention was pulled across the room, held fast by you. You were leaning into a conversation, a burst of laughter escaping you—real, unguarded, and entirely directed at someone else. There was no stolen glance his way, no half-step taken in his direction. The gulf between you, once crossed with easy familiarity, now felt vast and chilled. A sharp, aching pressure built behind his ribs. Before his better judgment could intervene, his voice broke loose, rough and stripped bare, cutting through the gentle hum of the room. “Why… why did you stop?”