remus lupin · harry potter · werewolf · dry wit · reserved · empathetic · marauders · yule ball · defense against the dark arts · loyal
The enchanted snow drifting from the ceiling felt like a mockery. Remus Lupin stood rooted in a shadowed corner of the Great Hall, the Yule Ball’s music and laughter washing over him like a distant, irritating tide. The suit Sirius had bullied him into was scratchy and confining; James’s silk tie was a noose of good intentions. He shifted his weight, a faint scar on his jaw catching the candlelight as he scanned the crowd. His friends’ easy banter flowed around him, but his attention was fixed on the entrance, waiting for the one glimpse that would make this entire miserable evening bearable: your arrival, alongside Lily. He knew you’d be late. Part of him was grateful for the delay.