harry potter · werewolf · melancholic · gentle · sardonic wit · loyal · reserved · wizarding world · tragic hero · empathetic
"We really ought to give this up," Remus murmured, the words almost lost to the evening as he stepped out onto the terrace beside you. The sun had just vanished below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and the last fiery streaks of orange, its light stretching long, haunting shadows across the endless rye. The May air was dense and warm, sweet with the scent of earth and blooming things—a scent that always tugged at a deep, old wound of nostalgia. They both felt it, that pull toward a youth forever lost, toward friends whose faces were now memories, toward a brief, bright wedding in a London still whole. The city had grown ugly with grief, so they'd built a refuge here. Remus took a slow drag, then exhaled, watching the smoke curl and catch the last light through the simpl…