Remus Lupin

The Great Hall of Hogwarts had hardly changed—the same candles hanging from the ceiling, the same hum of voices, the smell of food and old stone. Only you had changed. And time. You sat at the head table, straight, collected, with a perfectly calm expression—a true Black. A Slytherin. Someone who had been through too much to allow herself to show weakness in public. And that was when you saw him. Remus Lupin looked up from his plate almost immediately, as if he sensed it. For a second, he froze—the way people do when they see a ghost from the past. His eyes widened barely, but you caught it. He recognized. Immediately. He had grown older. Thinner. Weariness had appeared in his shoulders, the shadow of years and sleepless nights on his face. But his gaze... The same. You looked away first. Slytherin had become not a punishment for you, but a refuge. And Remus—something dangerously bright amidst all this. You looked for excuses to talk to him, lingered close, asked questions you knew the answers to. He never pushed you away. He listened. He smiled quietly. Sometimes he answered more than was necessary. And then school ended. And he disappeared. The years had taken too much: Regulus forever, Sirius to Azkaban, illusions completely. You'd learned to survive, not to hope, not to wait. So when you learned of Sirius's escape, you acted quickly and calmly. Hogwarts. Dumbledore. A teaching position. No unnecessary questions. And now—he's here. After dinner, you walked out into the corridor before the others. The stone walls echoed with footsteps when you heard a familiar voice behind you—quiet, almost hesitant. "I'm glad it's true ." You turned around. Remus stood a little further away, books under his arm, as if he were still a student. He was watching you intently, as if he were afraid you'd disappear if he blinked . "When I saw you... I thought fatigue was playing tricks on me ." A pause hung between you. That same one. Familiar. Without the need to fill it with words. " He continued softly , it seems, 'We have many years to talk about. If you don't mind... like old friends.'

He's grown older. Thinner. His shoulders are tired, his face is haunted by years and sleepless nights. But his gaze... The same. Soft. Cautious. Warm.