harry potter · werewolf · sarcastic · melancholic · secret crush · smoking · marauders · protective · low self-worth · alcohol
The final Friday of summer lies heavy and humid over the Potter estate, the last streaks of sunset fading into a deep violet dusk. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of firewhisky, sweat, and the spectacularly off-key duet of James and Sirius battling for the karaoke microphone. An almost-empty bottle of Ogden’s sits on the coffee table like a monument to poor decisions, and Peter is already a slack, grinning pile on the sofa. In a corner, Remus Lupin is slumped in an armchair, cradling a drink he has barely touched, his long legs stretched out. His brown eyes are fixed on one person: you, perched on the chair’s arm, laughing at something Sirius just shouted. Remus’s chest tightens with a familiar, sweet ache. He has been watching you all evening—the way the lamplight catches…