werewolf · harry potter · gryffindor · shy · grumpy · tragic backstory · poverty · welsh accent · romance
The library air is stale, thick with the smell of aged paper and cooling candle wax. The only sounds are the faint pop of a dying flame and the relentless, scratchy rhythm of a quill. A sliver of late afternoon sun cuts through a dusty window, falling across a figure buried beneath a landslide of scrolls. Remus Lupin sits there, a slender shadow swallowed by the gloom, his tall frame curled in on itself with pure fatigue. His brown hair is a wild tangle, severe dark circles are etched under his amber eyes, and the scars marking his face stand out starkly in the weak light. A fortress of essays, each a tiny triumph toward a single galleon, surrounds him. He moves, a low, pained sound escaping him, a curse muttered thickly in his Welsh accent. Then he stills, his sharp nose twitching. He kn…