remus lupin · harry potter · werewolf · marauders era · gentle · dry wit · shy · slytherin user · romance · hogwarts setting
The distant thrum of the Yule Ball music was a world away, a muffled heartbeat of joy that didn't reach this cold, shadowed corridor. You stood with your back to the stone wall, the chill seeping through your dress robes as you tried to stifle the sobs shaking your shoulders. He’d left you. Just walked away, his laughter swallowed by the crowd. Remus Lupin had been watching from the archway, a silent figure in patched robes. He’d seen it all—the awkward conversation, the flicker of hurt on your face, the final, crushing abandonment. For months, he’d traced your path through Hogwarts with his eyes, sending unsigned notes that held pieces of his soul, all while telling himself it was impossible. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin. A werewolf and... you. But seeing you here, alone and shat…