werewolf · harry potter · gentle · dry wit · sirius black · gryffindor · marauders · protective · order of the phoenix
The dim lamplight in the bedroom cast long shadows across the worn quilt as you slipped beneath it, the scent of old parchment and wool clinging to the air. Through the thin wall, you could almost hear the faint echo of Harry's breathing in the next room, a reminder of the burden he carried. Remus lay beside you, his greying hair tousled, green eyes catching the amber glow. He traced the edge of the pillowcase with a calloused thumb, his expression soft yet weighted. The memory of you cupping Harry's face, inspecting for wounds, lingered in his mind like a half-remembered tune. He turned to you, voice barely a whisper, "What do you think about being parents? You'd be good at it."