Request: ‘Remus lupin x fem reader where she just had a bad day and everything hurts and just wants comfort’
Thank you so much for requesting. Please, do say if you want any changes. I tried to get forward the bad day, and there is comfort at the end, do not worry, and it is all Remus content.
Warnings:Swearing.
Words:1.3K
Disclaimer:This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine.This should only be found on my blog.
A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added. I also tried by best at being British.
“Hi,” Remus grins down to her, swaying back and forth on the heels of his feet, his hands clasped behind his back.
It is currently lunch in the Great Hall, and per his friends’ harassment, he has finally gathered up the courage to come and speak to her. She does not look up, but he notices her lips curling upwards into a smile, well as much as he can see as she is looking down to her meal.
“Hey.”
His cheeks instantly flush, his palms beginning to sweat, and he halts his movements to stand still, “how are you?”
She turns to him and smiles, although it does not meet her eyes, making his own falter, “still recovering from that prank you pulled this morning,” she jokes.
He curses his friends at that moment, and it takes all his power to not turn and glare at Sirius. Flashing an awkward smile, he straightens his tie, looking down at her, before speaking, “yes. Sorry about that, it wasn’t for you, it was for -”
“Mulciber?” She asks, quirking her head to the side, her smile finally meeting her eyes. His smile falters for a second, his flush spreading to his neck as his fingers struggle and fumble to now fit in his pockets. Instead, he decides to nod. She mirrors his actions, fingers still curled around the cutlery on her plate. “I heard about what happened to Mary,” she bites her lip in thought, and for a second, Remus truly believes he has gone to heaven; she is so cute, “I feel awful. Have you spoken to her recently?”
Remus shakes his head, furious at the future death eater for attacking his housemate, “no, we only really talk to each other.”
(Y/n) raises a hand to her mouth, covering her obvious laughter, “I wouldn’t say I’m surprised if I take into account my treatment this morning.”
“Hey!” He laughs, shoulders relaxing, “It was Sirius! Plus, I thought you would have been madder about your essay.” He is only joking, but it only reminds (Y/n) of her day, making her frown and her brows furrow.
She fakes him a smile, hands running down to smooth out her school skirt, “I was until you lot ruined my school uniform, and I had to leave Herbology and go all the way back to the common room to change.” She does not mean to appear rude, and upon his frown, she apologises immediately.
He shakes his head, a small smile on his face to ease her tension, “no, you’re right. We should be more careful with who we prank, make sure it’s the right person.”
(Y/n) gasps, placing a hand on her chest as she fights back her grin, “do my ears deceive me or did Remus Lupin just mention consequences? And being careful?” She gasps again.
He shakes his head, failing to bite back his own grin, “I have you know we always are.”
“No, no,” she shakes her head, sorrows of the day forgotten, “of course you are, my bad.”
Mustering all his confidence, he slides into the empty gap on her right, feet still facing the aisle. She holds her breath at their proximity. Not only can she smell his aftershave - which is ever so lovely - but his knees are an inch from her. Shoulders tense, she lets out a giggle, reaching up to straighten the collar of her school blouse and to tuck in her cardigan.
He doesn’t notice, more focused on their proximity too; he can smell her perfume and almost count all her freckles.
Their eyes meet, and both are left on edge, “ask our countless victims; we always make sure to get them.” It comes more out as an utter as both subconsciously begin to lean in.
“GET SOME MOONY!” Sirius shouts from where he sits, fists pumping the air. Peter looks at him in glee whilst James attempts to hide his own smirk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sirius’ 'joke’ only worsened poor (Y/n’s) mood. Everything is going wrong today. First, her alarm clock did not wake her up, so she missed breakfast, then Remus’ stupid friends pull a dumb practical joke which made her miss the homework announcement, and then her essay somehow blew out of her hands when walking from Herbology to Transfiguration and landed on The Black Lake, getting it very wet - as you can imagine. The rest of the day did not get much better, with Sirius’ comment and the teasing that followed from basically the entire school. Of course, Remus did not get much backlash. Stupid Remus. Then, in the last period, she blew up her potion. Like an imbecile!
(Y/n) sighs, shutting her eyes as she sits on the wall in the courtyard, back facing the fountain. It wasn’t Remus’ fault as much as it was her own. To think she almost kissed him in front of the Great Hall, and that would have been embarrassing - for being caught, not kissing him specifically.
Her eyes remain shut as a person comes and sits to her left; she knows it’s Remus from his aftershave. She hears him drop his Backpack next to her Satchel. His robes are against her thigh, and her cheeks flush.
“(Y/n), I am so -”
“Ow!” Her eyes shoot open, hand going to her knee, which Remus had knocked when attempting to turn and face her.
“Shit!” Remus jumps up, eyes darting up and down her leg, looking for an injury. “I am so sorry. Bugger!” His eyes are wide and, he looks so panicked, that (Y/n) can’t help but smile.
“Remus, it’s okay,” she smiles up to him, patting his previous seat next to her. His brows furrow, but he does as she asks, uttering several more apologies, as well as profanities. “Everything hurts today,” she sighs.
She had knocked her knee when tripping over during the prank, her eyesight having been clouded, but she did not want to upset him.
He continues to frown, “is there anything that I could do?”
“Not really, I just -”
Sudden warmth envelopes her as she tilts forward, and it takes her a second to realise Remus has pulled her into a hug. “Is this okay?” He whispers, fearing his voice may crack or sound strained.
She smiles, eyes fluttering shut, and she wraps her arms around him, “perfect.”
Remus is a great hugger, and this must be one of the best hugs (Y/n) has had this entire school year, mostly because she hasn’t been able to go home, and it is also the Remus Lupin.
For a few minutes, they sit there, both enjoying the simplicity of this action and finally getting what they need. “I am sorry,” he whispers, “about that prank and your essay.”
“And I missed breakfast,” she whispers, tightening her hold.
“And you missed breakfast,” his voice wavers as he tries not to laugh, eyes still shut.
“It’s not funny.”
“You’re right, it’s not funny, sorry,” they both laugh, “although your potion was quite entertaining, I think it took Sirius’ eyebrows off.”
(Y/n) laughs, properly and loudly for the first time that day, and Remus finds himself looking down at her, his heart thumping and a grin forming on his face.
“He deserved it,” she mumbles into his chest. Remus glances around, relieved to see that no one else is in the courtyard, and he begins to rub circles with his thumb on her back.
“That he did.”
“Is it okay if I keep hugging you?” You wouldn’t believe it, but the two have been friends for years, Remus only just realised his feelings, which is why he was so embarrassing.
“Always.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yeah, fuck you Snivellus, I’m going to steal your line - Moony
Harry cringed at Professor Potter’s stern voice. She was a very laid-back teacher, and her tone of voice always stayed the same level. He had never heard this from her before. Harry could remember when he was a boy under the stairs. Petunia used to raise her voice sometimes at the man on the phone. He used to cower into the deepest depths of the cupboard, hoping that she would stop.
Harry then heard Lupin’s calm voice, “Dumbledore had specifically said that you were working with You-Know-Who. How were we supposed to take that?”
“I don’t know!” Professor Potter exclaimed, “Maybe ask me about it before pointing your wand at my throat?”
“It was a genuine mistake-“ Harry grimaced at Professor Lupin’s poor choice of words.
“A mistake that ruined my life, Lupin!” Harry could feel the malice in her tongue, “Seven years! Seven fucking years of misery. Seven years I will not get back.”
Harry turned the corner to see Lupin’s expression with obvious guilt, but Professor Potter didn’t seem deterred, “Not only was it seven years. I’m not even allowed to have my nephew in my custody because of my record.” Her voice got so low that Harry had to strain to hear it, “You don’t understand what he’s been through, Lupin. He’s getting abused by Lily’s sister, and there’s nothing I can do about it! They see I’ve been to Azkaban, and that’s all they care about.”
Harry almost gasped. Hermione would scold him for being an idiot, but it could’ve been possible that they were related just because they shared the same last name. Now that was confirmed. Professor Potter was his aunt. Harry was in for a good slapping my Hermione, and he owed Ron two sickles.
“But you know what, fuck it all right?” Harry pleaded to Godric he’d never make Professor Potter mad; her voice was shrill and scary, “Because everything that comes out of Dumbledore’s mouth is the truth, right?”
Lupin sighed, “I really am sorry. I know you won’t forgive me, and that’s reasonable, but with Regulus being alive now, you’re going to have to be around Padfoot.”
“I’ve known all about Regulus being alive.” Professor Potter said matter-of-factly, “After all, he’s the reason I’m out of Azkaban.”
Harry turned the corner again, Lupin looked flabbergasted, and from the view of Potter’s back, she seemed smug, “He- He defended you?”
“He did.” Her chin tipped up.
Professor Lupin ran a hand through his hair, looking shocked. He seemed to stand there frozen in time yet so moving simultaneously. His hands moved at a constant pace as if he didn’t know what to do with them. His glasses laid low on his nose, dangerously close to slipping off his face. Harry could see his knee-trembling slightly, possibly in pain. Professor Lupin did carry a cane occasionally.
“He’s also my fiancé.”
That was the bomb that made Lupin’s glasses fall. Professor Potter walked straight and past Lupin, further from Harry. Her shoes made a soft clicking noise against the old floors of Hogwarts. Professor Lupin bent down to grab his glasses and placed them in her cloak before sliding down the wall. His knees were to his chin, and he looked like a pretzel, Harry thought.
Lupin was all long limbs and skinny body. It made him look funny. Nonetheless, Harry was stuck in a sticky situation. His previous question to Professor Lupin now forgotten and more intrigued with the history of his two professors. Hastily, Harry looked at the Marauders Map to find no one insight, and he walked back to the Gryffindor Tower.
Breakfast in the Great Hall was always a magnificent experience. Especially for Ronald Weasley, who never really stopped eating until the food disappeared. It was indeed an appalling talent considering his many other siblings. But Ron didn’t go straight for the French toast. Instead, he stared at Harry.
“What?“
“You were missing last night?”
Hermione turned, “Missing?”
Ron turned to Hermione, “I woke up after a nightmare to find Harry’s bed empty.” Both teens turned to Harry eating a sausage, “So where were you?”
“I had a question for Professor Lupin that turned into a very intriguing history lesson,” Harry replied nonchalantly.
The trio was quiet for a moment before Ron scoffed, “Go on then,” He beckoned, “Share with the class.”
“Apparently,” Harry drawled, “Professor Lupin messed up Professor Potter’s life.”
Hermione was looking for more, “And she’s also my aunt.”
“I knew it!” Ron exclaimed and held out his hand, “Go on.”
Harry dug through his pockets and slapped two sickles in Ron’s hand; Hermione looked less impressed, “I mean, of course, it seems obvious, innit?”
Both boys turned to her, “Do you guys not feel the tension whenever Professor Lupin and Potter get within five feet of each other?” Based on the boy’s expression, it was a no, “You two are absolutely hopeless.” She grumbled while stuffing her face with porridge.
“So what happened?”
“She told him off, and he kinda just sat there, I suppose.” Harry shrugged, drowning his pancakes in syrup, “I left before anyone could see me.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Ron asked, mouth full of egg.
“Plan?”
“Yeah,” Ron replied, “We need a plan to figure out what went wrong.”
Hermione scoffed, “I think it has something to do with her going to Azkaban.”
She shuffled through her bag before pulling out an old Daily Prophet. She pointed at a paragraph, “If you read here, it says that Y/n Potter and Remus Lupin had been romantically involved before the incident causing her to go to Azkaban.”
“Why the hell do you have this?” Harry’s spoon clattered against his dish.
“Research! That’s not the point.” Hermione swatted at him, “The point is that obviously, something happened between the two. Not to mention them being absolutely connected. Did she mention anyone else?”
“Professor Lupin did mention something about a Padfoot?”
Hermione hummed, “Okay, let’s say Padfoot is a nickname for a friend, okay?“
“Bloody weird nickname,” Ron murmured.
“No one asked you, Ronald.” Hermione snapped.
Harry grinned, “She said the full name.”
“Harold Potter.”
“My name isn’t even Harold!”
“Irrelevant!” She exclaimed, “Padfoot is their friend, or was their friend. Maybe we should talk to them or find them.”
Ron swallowed his bacon faster than you could say wackspurt, “And how exactly are we going to find this Padfoot?”
“I don’t think we should find him.” Hermione said exasperated, “I think we should ask Professor Potter about him.”
“Why would we do that?”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “Isn’t that an invasion of privacy?”
Hermione narrowed her eyes, “That’s never been a problem with you before.”
Harry flipped his hands up defensively, “It was one bloody time.”
Ron snickered, “We ended up saving your life, didn’t we?”
“Not the point!”
It took days of planning, but the trio eventually came up with a plan. However, their plan was quickly thrown to the dogs when Professor Lupin entered the History of Magic classroom during the third-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuff class time. Professor Potter paid him absolutely no mind, but Professor Lupin was undetermined and stood in the entryway of the door. Everyone enjoyed Professor Potter’s lessons. According to the upper-level students, she was much more intriguing than old Professor Binns.
A cough sounded from the doorway, “Professor Potter?”
“Yes?” Her voice sounded strained behind her gritted teeth.
“May I bother you for just a moment?”
“More than you already have?” Some Hufflepuffs sniggered, and Seamus ‘Ooooed’ from the front left corner of the room.
Professor Potter turned, “Pay him no mind, Mr.Finnigan. I’ll be back in just a second.”
Without another word, she left the classroom with the door cracked open. Professor Lupin placed his shoe in the crevice of the door so it wouldn’t close completely. Harry sat in the back of the classroom with Hermione beside him; despite the closed door and low voices, the duo could still hear their every word.
“What is your problem!” Y/n whisper shouted, “I can’t even teach my class in peace now?”
Remus sighed, clearly done with the bickering, “Sirius will be staying with me for the weekend.”
“And I care; why?”
“You don’t.” Remus stated plainly, “But he would like to speak with you.”
She scoffed, “‘He would like.’ You know, I’d like many things in this world, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
“I am well aware we do not always get what we want, thank you.” Remus retorted drily, “However, we are both making an effort to correct what we have done to you.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Y/n stated as she tried to enter her classroom.
Remus stopped her, “When was the last time you used Vixen?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“It’s not.” Remus replied, “But if you can make it, I’d appreciate it greatly.”
Professor Potter didn’t answer. Instead, she walked around him and entered her classroom. Harry didn’t know what Professor Lupin meant by if she could ‘make it.’ Maybe it was a specific teacher meeting or something that the teachers did. Regardless, it was evident that the Professors still weren’t on good terms.
The following Monday, Professor Lupin was not teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Professor Potter instead. She leaned on the wooden desk with her dark purple robes on. Underneath her robes were muggle clothes. Professor Potter always seemed indifferent to blood status. Everyone sat in their respected seats when Harry raised his hand.
“Yes, Mr. Potter?”
“Where is Professor Lupin?”
Y/n sighed, “He’s fallen ill. So until he feels better, I’ll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts in his place.”
Harry smiled, seemingly okay with that answer. It didn’t seem that Professor Potter was angry at Professor Lupin for teaching in his absence but that she seemed tired. Harry noticed some new bruises on her arms when she took her robes off and how she seemed to move sluggishly across the classroom. Professor Potter was laid-back, but she wasn’t lazy.
It was late, and Harry was just about to go to the Gryffindor corridor when he saw Professor Potter sitting at Professor Lupin’s desk with a stack of parchment. He approached the door quietly and knocked gently. Y/n perked up and smiled happily at the intrusion.
“It’s quite late, Harry.” Y/n observed, “Might it be time for you to go to the Gryffindor tower?”
Harry flushed, “I was wondering if I could talk to you? If I’m not intruding.”
“Not a problem, my love.” Y/n waved her hand, and the papers hit the floor beside the desk.
A chair from one of the desks floated in front of the Professor’s desk, and Y/n motioned for him to sit in it. Harry tried to move less eager than he was but still moved faster than he would’ve liked. His satchel hit the ground beside him, and Y/n twirled a quill.
“Sorry, I can’t offer you any tea.” Professor Potter said, slightly embarrassed, “As you can see, this isn’t my classroom, and I have no idea where anything is.”
Harry grinned, not unlike James; Y/n noticed, “I think I’ll explode if I drink any more tea,” Harry chuckled, “I just came from dinner at the Great Hall.”
“Wonderful,” Y/n commented with an amused smile, “Now, what was it you wanted to speak about?”
He faltered slightly, “We share the same surname.”
“We do,” Y/n stated, “But that happens all the time.”
“Well, is it possible that you’re related to my father, James Potter?”
She smirked, “It is.”
“Are you?”
“I am.”
Harry didn’t think he would get this far.
“I’m his twin sister.” Y/n said, “Which makes you my nephew, in case you weren’t aware.”
“I-I know.” Harry stuttered, “Can you- um- tell me what he was like?”
Y/n beamed, “Of course. Is there anything, in particular, you’d like to know?”
“Was he kind?” He queried hesitantly, “I’ve heard he was arrogant.”
She laughed at that, “He was definitely arrogant, but he was exceedingly kind to make up for it. It didn’t matter how many times you upset or disappointed James Potter, he’d always give you a second, or third, or fourth chance.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard that he was a star Chaser for the Gryffindor House team. Sirius Black - his best mate - was a Beater on the team, and believe it or not, Professor Lupin was the Commentator.”
“Commentator?”
“Indeed.” Y/n smirked, “Professor Lupin was extremely witty in his youth.”
Harry kicked a crumpled note under the desk before asking again, “Why are you and Professor Lupin so cross?”
“Professor Lupin and I are perfectly cordial.” Y/n saw Harry’s disbelieving look, “However, we aren’t the greatest of friends.”
“Why?”
She coughed subtly, “It’s a very long-winded story we don’t have time for, I’m afraid.”
“Does it have something to do about your imprisonment?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Hermione showed Ron and me the other morning at breakfast.”
Y/n smiled fondly, “She’s quite brilliant, but yes, it does.”
“So you and Professor Lupin were in a relationship?”
“We were.” Y/n answered, “We started going out in our fifth year and presumably broke up when I got sentenced.”
Harry didn’t know what to say. He felt like the words were falling from his mouth before he could stop them, “Can I live with you?”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s just that- I’m sorry- I didn’t-“ Harry’s face was the color of rose, and he was spluttering to try and form a sentence.
Y/n had an expression on her face that could only be called affectionate, “It’s okay, Harry. I’ve heard rumors of what the Dursleys do to you over the summer holidays.”
“You have?” Harry seemed relaxed by this.
“I have, and I’d love nothing more for you to stay with me.” Y/n sighed, “However, I’d need clearance from the Ministry, and I don’t know if they’ll permit me. Especially with one of your guardians having a clean record.”
Harry looked confused, “I have another guardian?”
“You do.”
“Who are they?”
“Sirius Black is your godfather.” Y/n replied, “To be quite honest, I’m not sure why he hasn’t tried to take you in yet. However, I believe it’s Dumbledore’s orders. I’ve never been one for following his orders, though.”
She had a mischievous grin on her face, “This may be a lot to ask, but-“
“I’ll try.” Harry looked shocked at her interjection, “Hopefully, by the summer, you’ll be able to come home to mine instead of the Dursleys. Sound fair?”
“Yes. Thank you!”
“You’re welcome, love.”
Harry was in much brighter spirits after his talk with Professor Potter. It was exciting to learn that he could get rid of the Dursleys and live with a loving Aunt. Not to mention he also had a godfather that he never knew of.
Three owls were sent that night by three different owls. One snow-white owl named Hedwig sent a letter to a mysterious Sirius Black. A second all-black owl named Achilles was sending a letter to the Ministry for parental permission of Harry James Potter. Finally, a third barn owl was sending a letter to Regulus Black about the potential of Harry living under their roof.
Sirius wasn’t expecting mail at the kitchen table when eating breakfast. Usually, the mail came in through the muggle mailbox since he and Remus shared a flat in muggle London, but occasionally they’d get mail by owl-post. Sirius took the envelope from the owl, but she didn’t fly away immediately. She watched Sirius open it and sat patiently.
“Dear, Sirius Black,
I don’t really know how to start this. I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Harry James Potter, and apparently, you were my dad’s best mate. That’s all I really know about you and that you were a Beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I’m a Seeker for the team right now.
According to Professor Potter, you’re my godfather. I wish you would’ve contacted me or told me you exist. I’ve only just now learned of who you are. Apparently, you, mum, dad, Professor Lupin, and Professor Potter were all friends. Maybe you didn’t know I was born, and that’s why you didn’t contact me, or that’s what I’m hoping. Otherwise, it’s real shit of you not to.
I guess owl me back, so I know you exist still.
-Signed,
Harry Potter”
Sirius chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “Nothing like getting told off by your godchild.”
Harry did get a letter back from the mysterious Sirius Black only two days later. The handwriting was elegant and curvy; maybe his godfather was posh or a muggle. The Potter’s didn’t seem to care about blood status. When he asked Hermione and Ron about the Black’s, he got an insightful explanation about the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Nonetheless, the words inside were encouraging and informative. Despite Sirius not reaching out, he seemed kind.
Harry and Sirius continued to owl each other. As it continued, the letters got more personal and more helpful. Sirius was actually really good at offering advice for Harry when needed. Professor Potter had gotten an owl back about her parental permissions being granted after months of review. After the History of Magic examination, Harry was to stay after class.
After class, Harry received news that he would be coming to the Black/Potter residence for the summer holidays, and he was ecstatic. The train home couldn’t have been any slower, and he couldn’t wait to be safe in a house with his Aunt.
They apparated to the driveway, which was stone brick pavers, it seemed neverending, and the cherry blossom trees surrounding the house were in full bloom. It was a two-story house, painted grey with dark brown - almost black - accents. When the duo walked inside the house smelt like a man’s cologne, Harry thought the house couldn’t be more different than the Dursleys.
A soft fluffy thing walked in between Harry’s legs immediately after his shoes were off, and Y/n chuckled, “This is lynx. She’s our cat.”
He bent down, and she smelt his hand before rubbing against it, “She’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Y/n replied, “Though Regulus will take great pride in that.”
Harry followed Y/n into the kitchen, where she began preparing tea, “Regulus?”
“Oh!” She exclaimed as she placed the kettle on the stove, “Regulus is my fiancé. He knows you’re here, and he is super sweet.”
“Where is he?”
Y/n put the boiling water in two cups, “Working.”
She passed him a cup of the jasmine tea, “Do I- um- call him Uncle?”
“You don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable.” Y/n was always so soft and trying to make him comfortable, “He’ll appreciate anything that isn’t Mr. Black.”
“Okay.” Harry smiled.
Regulus didn’t come home until later that evening. Y/n had shown Harry to his bedroom, which was the same bedroom she occupied while staying in the house. Harry was getting settled in when the door opened loudly, and someone was taking their shoes off at the door along with their cloak.
The man had jaw-length curvy hair with blue-grey eyes. His skin was pale and flushed from the heat. He also had freckles under his eyes. His jawline was sharp, his cheeks sunken just a pinch. The man was skinny but had muscle and was extremely tall. He stood at around six feet. Harry was just about five feet and five inches.
He didn’t see Harry at the top of the steps and went straight into the kitchen, where he placed down the take-out containers. Y/n appeared at the other end of the kitchen, it seemed, because the man stopped and smiled at her. Harry stood at the central kitchen entrance watching them interact. He kissed her on the cheek as she unloaded the bag of takeout. Finally, Harry was noticed.
“Ah, you must be Harry.” Regulus said with a smile, and Harry flushed, embarrassed for ruining their peace, “I’m Regulus.”
Harry didn’t say anything and stared at them wearily, “It’s okay, Harry. You can come in. Regulus got us some take-out. Hopefully, it’s something you like.” Y/n smiled, putting two boxes in front of a barstool at the island.
He sat down hesitantly and began to eat, “Sorry,” Harry apologized, “I’m not used to this setting yet.”
“We’ve been in the same position before.” Regulus stated solemnly, “Except I didn’t have an amazing Aunt to escape to.”
Y/n laughed, “Shut it.”
“I’m just telling him the truth!” Regulus defended mouthful of food.
“Chew your food.” Y/n scoffed.
Harry smiled at their good-natured bickering. It was much different from Petunia and Vernon constant arguing. Harry could get used to this. He was never really allowed to sit in the kitchen and eat with the others. He also would’ve been punished for eavesdropping as he had previously. Y/n and Regulus didn’t seem to mind, however.
The summer holiday was truly fun compared to his usual one. Regulus was kind and sweet, like Y/n’s description. Lynx also seemed to take a liking to him. Lynx slept with him every night but traveled throughout the house in the mornings. Harry also learned that breakfast would always get made in the mornings. Sometimes it was french toast, pancakes, or waffles as a main course, but it always tasted heavenly.
He learned that Y/n went to Hogwarts a week early to prepare for classes, leaving him home alone with Regulus. Harry and Regulus got along nicely. They didn’t know much about each other, however. Harry was in the library when he found a black leather-bound book. It read ‘The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black History’ in gold foil on the spine. Harry pulled it from the shelf and began to read through it.
It seemed like a biography on the Black family with many facts inside. Whoever wrote the book was obviously well informed on the pureblood family. The book talked about everyone too, even the disowned members of the family like Alphard Black, Andromeda Black, Phinneas Black, and finally Sirius Black.
Harry drank up all the knowledge about Sirius like a bee with nectar. Sirius seemed to have a troubling childhood with extremely abusive parents. He’d go weeks without food, water, and sometimes shelter. Sirius was the only Black to get sorted into Gryffindor, but he wasn’t the first to be sorted into a different house.
He didn’t know how long he sat there reading until Regulus entered the room, “Whatcha got there?”
Harry snapped the book shut, looking like a deer in headlights, “I- um- I don’t- uh-“
“Y/n said you stuttered when you got caught, but I thought she was lying.” Regulus chuckled, “Apparently not.”
The young boy’s face was entirely red, “You aren’t in trouble, Harry.” Regulus sat down criss-cross in front of him.
Harry handed Regulus the book, and Regulus smiled, “It makes sense why you’d pick it up. It’s intriguing, isn’t it?”
“It is.” He admitted, “Sirius Black is my godfather, and I wanted to know more about him.”
“Well, you know, I actually wrote this book.” Regulus grinned, “You could always ask me.”
“You- You wrote it?”
Regulus let his fingers trail the front of the leather, “Yup. I just never published it.”
“Why not?” Harry questioned, “It’s brilliant!”
“Thank you.” Regulus blushed, “But nobody needs to know how horrid my family was.”
There was a short silence, “But since you seem so intrigued and I am Sirius Black’s younger brother. I’d love to tell you anything you’d like to know.”
Harry grinned cheerfully. The two boys sat in the library for the entire afternoon talking about the Black family. Harry found that he now understood what Regulus meant when he said they came from the same background. Regulus seemed to have it much worse than he did.
Toward the end of the holiday, Harry took to calling Regulus Uncle. It seemed fitting after Regulus had taken the role with such affection and care. Harry couldn’t imagine not coming to their house every summer and maybe even Christmas one year. He had never felt so safe in soft, warm bedsheets and a purring Lynx laying on the pillow he wasn’t using.
Y/n was already at Hogwarts, so Regulus had taken the role to bring him to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Harry wasn’t disappointed. Regulus had made a fantastic breakfast that morning and some sweets to take with him or eat on the train. He hugged Regulus before jumping onto the train. Harry found Hermione and Ron quickly, where they all exchanged stories from the summer.
A/N: A little late but in honor of Remus Lupin’s 62nd birthday :)
Paper is just paper until a pen touches it with its scarring ink. It’s like taking a person’s nails and digging them into someone’s skin until they bleed. The canvas is blank until someone taints it. The tip of the quill touches the ink with a subtle clink, and he’s the one who ruins the canvas. Truth be told, it pains him to do so.
Because he knows firsthand what it’s like to be tainted by an unknown power.
Maybe she was the parchment, the canvas, the skin. Everything she touched seemed to blossom and bloom. She never tainted a single soul, but the minute his quill touched the delicate parchment, it felt ruined.
Maybe he’s being overdramatic because it is just notes on Transfiguration, but for some reason, he can’t help but wince.
He can still hear the ringing in his ear from the previous full moon less than forty-eight hours ago. It feels like a fly constantly buzzing in his ear. It’s a constant annoyance. Maybe that’s what draws him to her like a moth to a lamp in the London streets.
She was never the constant buzz of a fly or the noisy honking of a car in the busy streets. She was the birds in the morning or the snow that absorbed all the sound. She was the welsh countryside where he grew up. The humid air and the summer heat. The blissful storm to wash everything away.
Perhaps that’s why he loved her so much.
They sit beside each other in Transfiguration, replicating each other’s actions. He glances at her scarred parchment. Somehow it looks like a summer day. Everything is flourishing and blossoming like it’s meant to. He looks at his parchment to see the usual winter appearance. The look of everything dead and departing. The stream of birds that flee to the south for warmth.
Suddenly he feels embarrassed. His robes feel too tight, and his white button-up beneath them feels clammy. He can only hope that it’s not protruding any scent. The quill threatens to escape his now sweating palm, but he tightens his grip causing a line across the parchment.
Tainting it, if you will.
She sits beside him in silence. Her eyes lingered on Professor McGonagall with a fondness that he almost felt as if he was intruding on them. Her gaze only falls when something flies and hits him directly on the right cheek of his face. She turns and threatens to smile at him. A smile that he adores and loves to see on her face. He thinks it’s lovely.
But he knows that he needs to pick up the piece of paper that is now lying beside him on the ground. It’s crumpled, and the parchment has lines of where it’s been folded and crumpled to shreds. Carefully, he opens it, so he doesn’t rip it after being too impatient. Inside it has curly, calligraphy handwriting that one comes from a pureblood.
The note itself is outrageous and makes Remus exhale extra hard. The boy who’s given him the note is smiling gleefully from his right. Remus rolls his eyes and crumples the paper back up into his bag. The girl doesn’t say anything. In fact, she’s actually writing again following what Professor McGonagall has on the board. Without realizing it, she slips her hand into his.
Remus knows, little by little, she’ll continue to put him back together and help him bloom once more like he did when he was four.
