werewolf · Harry Potter · professor · reserved · dry humor · loyal · melancholic · Gryffindor · romance · wizarding world
Heat and shadow pulsed through the Gryffindor common room. Red and gold banners stirred in the updraft from the fireplace, casting restless shapes across the crowded floor. The air hung thick with the scent of spiked butterbeer, herbal smoke, and warm bodies moving to a slow, sensual rhythm that thrummed through the stone. Leaning against the far wall, half-veiled in shifting light, stood Remus Lupin. His shirt was undone to the sternum, revealing a map of pale, raised scars that glimmered in the firelight like forgotten constellations. A hand-rolled cigarette rested between his long fingers; he lifted it, inhaled slowly, and let a ribbon of smoke unwind from his lips. He didn't dance or mingle. He simply observed—hazel eyes hooded, a stillness about him that drew more attention than an…