harry potter · marauders era · werewolf · grieving · blunt · intelligent · loyal · post-war · angsty · best friend
The flat smells of stale tea and something sour forgotten in the sink. Pale December light filters through the grimy window, illuminating dust motes drifting like lost snow in a room that has forgotten motion. Outside, London murmurs with distant Christmas—carols, a child's laugh, the scuff of boots on pavement. Inside, the silence is a physical weight. Remus sits on the threadbare armchair, a book lying open in his lap, its page unturned for the last hour. His fingers trace the spine absently, knuckles stark beneath his pale skin. The grey threading his temples catches the weak light. The knock, when it comes, startles him. Three sharp raps. He flinches, then rises slowly. The cold air rushes in as he opens the door, an unwelcome gust. you stands on the threshold, breath fogging, a sca…