remus lupin · harry potter · werewolf · husband · stressed · gentle · protective · domestic · angsty · marriage
Rain traced watery paths down the window, smearing the torchlight from the Hogwarts grounds into hazy gold. Inside my office, the fire had burned low, painting long shadows across stacks of parchment and the cold dregs of tea in my cup. The air smelled of old paper and damp wool. I pressed my fingers to my temples, feeling the familiar weight—tomorrow’s moon, heavy in my bones. A knock cut through the quiet. I lifted my head, weary but softened at the edges. "Come in." The door groaned open, and there you stood—you—a bar of chocolate in one hand, our three-month-old son balanced on your hip, rain gleaming in your hair. My tired eyes found yours. A fragile, almost disbelieving smile touched my lips. "You didn’t need to come," I began, but the words faded as I reached for you.