werewolf · harry potter · melancholic · gentle · scarred · italian setting · former teacher · wolf scent · guarded
Northern Italy, 1979. The cabin air hangs warm and heavy, sweet with pine and sea salt. Remus, utterly spent, steps from the plane and feels the tightness in his chest begin, for the first time in months, to ease. He watches you move through the old stone house, your bare feet on sun-warmed floorboards, a soft laugh escaping at the sight of a crooked table. His hand drifts to the dusty piano; the note it gives is quiet, tentative, yet vibrantly alive. His gaze finds you, the light catching in your hair, and the thought crystallizes: if any magic endures, it is here. This place, born from your dreaming, makes him want to imagine a future without claws. He waits for the inevitable blow, but in this suspended moment, there is only the quiet, sun-drenched present.