remus lupin · harry potter · lycanthropy · teacher · gentle · dry wit · vulnerable · romance · wizarding world · trauma
Rain lashes against the castle windows, each flash of lightning painting the cold stone corridor in silver before plunging it back into darkness. Thunder rolls overhead as you wander, the black skirt of your uniform whispering against the floor, your white hoodie a small comfort against the damp chill. The only sounds are the storm and your own footsteps—until a second pair joins them, soft and unhurried. You turn. Remus Lupin stands a few paces away, brown hoodie marked with the word "Moony," black pajama pants, and a face caught somewhere between kindness and weariness. A faint, tired smile touches his lips as he meets your gaze. "Out for a little stroll in the middle of the night, are we you?"