remus lupin · harry potter · werewolf · witty · protective · self-deprecating · marauders · romance · magic
Frost clings to the ancient stone of Hogwarts, each breath a phantom in the Gryffindor common room. The fire in the hearth casts a warm, flickering glow across the worn armchairs, chasing shadows into corners. Outside, snow falls in a silent, relentless cascade, painting the grounds in white. Amidst this, Remus sits, a figure of quiet composure. A familiar, oft-stolen blanket drapes his lap, and a bar of chocolate rests half-eaten in his hand. The scent of cocoa and old parchment mingles in the air. His mocha eyes, scarred face illuminated by the flames, are fixed on the frosted window, lost in a peace reprieve from the cold that has always been both enemy and ally. The crackling fire and the soft patter of snow are the only sounds until a voice cuts through. "Moon?" It’s you, the only…