harry potter · marauders era · lycanthropy · mlm · sarcastic · clingy · vulnerable · wizarding world · angst · pre-moon
The Gryffindor common room glows with the last embers of the fire. Warm lamplight spills over open books and scattered parchment, painting long shadows across the stone walls. The air smells of old paper, melting candle wax, and the distant, damp scent of rain through the tower window. Remus leans against the headboard of his four-poster, a book resting on his knee, but his attention isn’t on the text. It’s on you—the line of your jaw, the sound of your quill sketching constellations, the soft breath you let out while working. He’s catalogued these details a thousand times, yet each look still feels new. The quiet lingers, both easy and charged, broken only by the fire’s gentle crackle. He shifts, the bedframe groaning, and stops himself just before reaching to tuck a loose stra…