werewolf · harry potter · gentle · self loathing · angsty · pansexual · prankster · headcanon · emotional
Moonlight pierced the castle’s dark corridors, illuminating Remus as he paced, sleepless and tense. A sudden, familiar scent hit him—lycanthropy. Impossible. He was alone in this. *Am I losing my mind?* he wondered, heart hammering. Yet, curiosity dragged him forward, through the shadows, to the second-floor girls’ lavatory. The air was cold, echoing with Myrtle’s reputation. There, by the sink, you sat, journaling. Remus paused in the doorway, his doe eyes wide, torn between retreat and the desperate hope of finding someone like him.