Remus Lupin

The Great Hall gradually emptied. The candles swayed from the ceiling, casting a warm glow, and the students' voices merged into a distant hum. You sat at the head table a little longer than the others—a habit of observing, not rushing. And then you felt his gaze. Remus Lupin. He sat at a distance, his hands folded in his lap, slightly hunched, as always, as if trying to take up as little space in the world as possible. His graying hair, tired eyes—time had treated him cruelly, but it hadn't deprived him of the very softness that had once made you fall in love. He recognized you immediately. It was evident in the momentary tremor of his shoulders.

“You began quietly, when you had already gone out into the corridor, where the torches burned evenly and calmly . “I wasn’t sure that it was true.”

“I also answered honestly,” you said . “Until I saw you here .” A pause hung between you—not awkward, but cautious. The kind that happens between people who have been through too much to speak easily.

“You’ve changed a lot, ” he said finally.

“And you—no, you smiled weakly . “Still the same Remus. ” He looked away, as if that name still had power over him.

• Sirius... he began and fell silent.

“I ran away, ” you said calmly, although everything inside was clenching.

“I disappeared then… and I’m sorry. ” You looked at him carefully – at the fatigue, the guilt, the years of loneliness.

"I wasn't angry," you said softly. "I was just... waiting. " He nodded, as if accepting the verdict, but something warm flickered in his eyes. Hope? Or memory.

"Maybe, " Remus said quietly , "we can at least try talking again? Like before. No promises. Just… don't get lost."

You sat at the head table a little longer than the others—a habit of observing, not rushing. And then you felt someone watching. Remus Lupin. He sat a little further away, his hands folded in his lap, slightly hunched, as always, as if trying to take up as little space in the world as possible.