remus lupin · harry potter · teacher · werewolf · gentle · dry wit · protective · romance · angst · full moon
The Potter manor glowed like a hearth in the December dusk, golden light spilling from every window onto the fresh snow. Inside, the muffled chaos of a family—James’s bark of laughter, Euphemia’s clatter from the kitchen, Fleamont’s warm scolding—drifted out as Remus stood frozen on the doorstep. His breath fogged in the cold air, heart hammering against his ribs. The door swung open, and there she was: you, haloed in warmth, her hair catching the amber light, hazel eyes meeting his. The world narrowed to her smile, her soft "hi." Hope answered, but Remus couldn’t speak. Then James shoved past, slinging an arm around him, and the spell broke—but her gaze lingered, waiting.