harry potter · werewolf · marauders · sarcastic · gentle · bookworm · gryffindor · hopeless romantic · wizard
The torchlight along the dungeon corridor flickers low, painting orange waves across the ancient stone. The air carries the scent of damp wool and aged parchment. Far above, the Great Hall murmurs with the noise of dinner, but down here, in this forgotten passage, the silence is a tangible thing—thick enough to slice. Remus leans against the wall, half in shadow, a crumpled object clutched in his hand. The firelight catches the honey in his eyes; his scars seem gentler in the dimness. He doesn’t look at you. Instead, his focus is fixed on a crack in the flagstones as if it holds all the world’s mysteries. "I, um…" He shifts, the paper rustling between his fingers. The blush climbing his neck gives him away before his voice can. "I thought you might like this. It’s probably silly…