Part 1
If it was one thing your parents stuck into your head when you were younger, it was that you, {Y/N} Gaunt, were better than any other witch in your presence.
‘The Lost Gaunt’ is what they referred to you as. You, and of course, your parents fed into this idea. People were sure they had died out, either from your family's admittedly embarrassing financial status, or from a few choice family members disgracing your blood line with Muggle blood.
It wasn't a secret, your family's blood soaked history and ideals on muggles of any variety. Your father spoke especially lowly of half bloods, saying they were some of the most loathsome and desperate of them all, with parents who tainted their good family names by giving it to scum.
Very opinionated, that man.
You were much the same when you were younger. Snappy and spoiled, demanded everything and no one ever fought you on it. Even with your family's position with lack of wealth, when your parents came out of hiding as Voldemort started his horrid flock, your father didn't hesitate to join. There was no lack of support from expected places. Every pureblood with half sense wanted to be in the good graces of the heir of Slytherin, even if she didn't attend the school. Little you was treated like an absolute princess. Even receiving a letter from Durmstrang personally, your father opting for the obvious choice, burning your Hogwarts letter before you even read it.
It made you an absolute terror when you got to the foreign school. Suddenly, you weren't as special as you were in London. Your name still carried a lot of marit, but so did several other students. You learned to keep your mouth shut, to keep your cards to your chest, and eventually, you unlearned everything your parents taught you. You met half bloods there, stronger than you had ever known witches and wizards to be, making close friends with several other open minded purebloods and friendly half bloods.
Of course, you still had a family name to uphold. You studied and worked your hardest, eventually making it high enough on a social latter that Gaunt no longer mattered, but {Y/N} did.
You started your rebellious streak in year 4, when your father asked you if you wanted to return home for the summer. It was the first time he gave you the choice, you refused. Instead, you traveled to Muggle London without his knowing. You went with a few friends, half bloods, they wanted to show you where they grew up. Your father would have your head for this. You thought in amusement as you danced through the market and gawked at all the muggle contraptions. You were sure to them you looked absolutely delirious, but you couldn't care less in the moment.
You wandered down the streets with a few girls who had broken off from the group. When you noticed a record store, your friends waved you off, refusing to join when they knew you'd be in there for hours. A boy who fancied you gifted you a small record player, and since then, you had been collecting muggle records at any opportunity. Thank Merlin your father didn't keep track of your spending.
You walked in with your head held high, you already gave off the impression of someone too good to be there, a force of habit. You walked down the aisle and searched the albums, dismissing people who tried to educate you on what was best, mostly men trying to impress you, you figured. Nothing more charming than being spoken down to. Eventually, you made it to some of the older ones, clearly used and used and used again. A soft yellow album caught your eye from the top shelf. Etta Jones? You thought for a moment. You had never seen it before, but the woman on the cover looked beautiful.
You got on your toes and began to balance on a shelf, struggling to reach the damned record. You have a huff, ready to give in, before you hear a chuckle behind you. Whipping your head around you nearly spun around completely. Then, you saw him. A boy, he looked to be your age, tanned skin with soft pink scars littering his form, with one large one across his face. He had shaggy sandy blonde hair, almost brown, and the cockiest smirk on his face.
You huffed at him and put your hands on your hips, tilting your head at him. “Not very polite, you know. Watching a lady struggle without even an offer of help.”
His smirk slowly turned to a dazzling smile. “You want my help? You've been blowing past people who've offered you help this whole time.” He remarked and you scoffed.
“Don't be coy. They weren't exactly being truly helpful. Also, no one here is as,” You gestured to him with both hands. “Vertically gifted as you.”
He laughed at this and you got another flash of his pearly whites. “That so?”
“I only speak the truth.”
“That I see.”
“So will you?”
“Will I what?”
You scoffed with a scandalized look, gesturing to the album. “Help a damsel in distress?”
He gave a playful hum and put his hands in his jean pockets, leaning forward a bit in his brown jumper that laid over a mustard yellow button up. “I'm not really the princely type, princess.” He teased and you slowly smirked. “I'm more in line with the monster.”
“Well, kind monster, would you do your princess the kindness of grabbing her this single?” You hummed and he laughed. “My princess?”
“If you behave.”
He looked you up and down before he walked over and grabbed the record, looking it over and holding it just out of reach as you tried to snatch it away. “What if I don't?”
You huffed and gave up on trying to swipe it, crossing your arms and biting your cheek. “That's not a very gentlemanly thing to do.”
“I'm not a very gentlemanly person.” He gave you a look that had the alarm bells in your head sounding, but you bit your lip and nodded. “Fine then. What would you like in return, hm?”
“Your name.”
“My name?” You huffed and smiled once more. He nodded with a serious look, but a smile tugged at his lips.
“{Y/N}.” You introduced and held your hand out. “You don't need my last name. You'll never have to call me it.” You remarked and his eyebrows raised in delight. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You mused as he handed you the record.
“And your name?”
“Remus. Guess I'll skip the last name too. But please, call me Moony.” He remarked and you nodded.
“Until next time, Moony.”
“Next time, {Y/N}.”
The summer was absolute bliss. You spent it doing all the things your father hated about muggles. Running in fields and jumping in stray bodies of water, going to parties and drinking until you were sick. You kissed muggle boys, went to underground concerts, and even took enchanted pictures for yourself to keep.
Though, you didn't see that record store boy for the rest of the summer. Not from lack of trying, however, going to the store twice a week to try and snag a glimpse of him. Eventually you gave up and went back to your friends.
The next summer, you did see him again. This time, it was a month in, you were out late at a party, and were waiting for the bus to take you to the flat you had bought under a fake muggle name. Well, you say you bought, in reality you had been taking portions of money from your father and pureblood families that wanted your favor, from the start of the school year, saving up enough to be the spoiled girl you were.
You were standing under a street lamp, leaning against it as you pulled out a packet of cigarettes. You put it to your lips, just as you did, a voice called over to you. “Need a light?”
You turned to face the boy who seemed to sneak up on you in alarm, before you slowly lit up at the sight of him. He seemed puzzled by your expression before recognition covered his features. “Record store princess.”
“Record store monster.” You cheeked and he walked over, leaning down to cover the end of your smoke from the wind, lighting it with a simple flick. You didn't even think about how you didn't hear the usual metallic click of a lighter, instead, a snap. That was how you lit them anyway.
“Where have you been, pretty boy?” You asked after a long drag, and he watched you breathe the smoke out of your lungs, eyes lingering on your lips. This made you curl them to give him a better view. “Around.”
“Something caught your eye?”
“Someone.” He muttered and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, glancing at the bus station. “I'm heading home, to my flat. Care to make sure your princess gets home safe?”
He chuckled at the bold offer, rubbing the back of his neck and wetting his lips. There was a pause as he thought about it. “... lead the way.”
That summer was somehow even better than the previous. He spent the night with you, that night, then every single other night. He came and never dreamed of leaving, only gone a handful of days for a few hours at a time for his summer job.
There was this amazing peace, waking up, laying in your stomach, hugging your pillows in your plush massive mess of blankets and pillows, with him. Most of the boys you brought back would be gone in the morning, you preferred it that way, but when you woke up to his arm around your bare back and his nose in the nape of your bruised and bite ridden neck, you couldn't dream of another outcome.
He joked, the second he saw the large canopy bed, about you letting monsters into your private quarters. He seemed to not think so highly of himself, but with every part of your skin he discovered, with every touch and sound he drew from you, he seemed to grow more confident in your situationship. It was dangerous, you knew it, this muggle boy had you wrapped around his finger. Judging by the way he looked at you when you would fall into the clouds of euphoria, he met the same fate.
You had never felt so content, going out and partying, coming home before he did, and spending your nights and afternoons together. With the odd exceptions of a few days out of the months, he was glued to you. Your friends teased you, but for once, you couldn't find it in yourself to be embarrassed. When school came, you had never felt so crushed. You spent the day before lingering in each other's presence without a word. The silence was enough.
When he brought you to bed, and your skin was pressed to his, his nose to your temple as he whispered sweet words of encouragement and pure infatuation, you were wreathing and gasping in short spouts, you muttered something that drew his rough movements to a stop. You hadn't even realized it, and he noticed how your eyes squished together and you whined with a huff. Fluttering open your eyes, staring up at his knee weakening hazels. He stared at you in silence and you slowly moved to sit up. It clicked to him, you hadn't even realized what you said. You'd never know that those three little words utterly destroyed him. Knowing that tomorrow he would be away from you again. He knew it would be hell.
He huffed and slowly pulled back. He began slowly, taking you in as if he was trying to commit you to memory. Every curve and blemish, every bit of scarred flesh he devoured with an open mouth kiss. You were lost once more to your own ecstasy.
He wanted to say it back so horribly.
He wanted you to know he loved you too.
~~~
You spent all of your sixth year waiting for summer, but when it came you dreaded it. Your father told you that you were to move back to London and resume your normal life in preparation for finding you a suitor.
He had promised your mother that he would wait until you were at least 20 to start, but her passing this year it seems he changed his mind. So you returned to business as usual, being enrolled in Hogwarts for your last year of schooling, and being undertaken by the Black’s matriarch, Walaburga, to learn how to be a pureblood witch worth marrying.
Every day she would come to the Gaunt manor, quiz and train you on behaviors and etiquette. You hated those meetings, she was needlessly cruel and fake nice, to the point it was painful for you to watch her try and flatter and build your fathers ego. It made you sick. Soon, but not soon enough, the summer was over and at least you would be at Hogwarts and away from that sour faced woman.
~~
Remus had gone to your flat that summer, he stayed there for a week before he realized you weren't coming home. He hated it. He hated how you didn't tell him where you were, where you were going. There was this silent agreement between the both of you, You never told him where you would be and he never asked, Never exchanged much about your current personal lives, just the past. So if someone was to ask him where you were, he wouldn't have a clue. You promised him you'd see each other next summer, and that was enough.
At first his bitterness was winning, he wanted to believe you left without a word because you wanted nothing more than what you were that summer. Deep down, however, he knew. He knew by the way you looked at him in the morning, how you would pull him into the middle of the room in your socks and his shirt, like it was a dress on you, twirling around and slow dancing to that record he got you the first time you met. You always got what you wanted, and Remus knew he was what you wanted. When he left, he set a paper folded up between the door and the wall, a simple but desperate note. He needed you.
So when he got back to Hogwarts, he was a wreck. His friends noticed immediately. When he sat on the train, and looked out the window instead of shoving his nose in a book or teasing the others together.
“Moony, you good man?” James spoke up first after the three shared awkward looks.
“Yeah dude, you look like a kicked puppy. Or James when Lily isn't looking at him.” Sirius tried to joke, looking through his suitcase before he paused and his eyes widened.
Remus was suddenly filled with dread. “Don't-”
“Let me guess, the cool girl you met last summer didn't show up this time? Told you, muggle girls her age are crazy.” Sirius laughed, not looking up, only to get jabbed harshly in his side with James’ elbow. Sirius hissed and held his side, looking at James with a glare before James flicked his eyes to Remus.
Sirius looked over and saw just how broken up Remus seemed to be about it. He sighed and gave him a pained sympathetic look. Watching as Peter took out a chocolate bar and handed it over to Remus. He muttered a thank you and took it. Sirius sighed and shook his head. “Look, I'm sorry dude. I don't mean it.”
“It's fine.” Remus answered quickly. “I was surprised she even gave me the time of day. I guess I always have that summer. I'll be over it in time, I'm sure she isn't missing me as much, as I'm moping over her, maybe that will help me get over it.”
He tried to believe that. He really did. His words were coming out low, he tried to sound wise but he truly sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. She was all he could think about. From the train, to the carriages, to the Great Hall. Lily saw him and gave him a pout, he had written to her over the summer about what had happened. He wanted her perspective about what had happened, where he could have gone wrong, and out of the thirty he sent her she responded in kind to all of them. She walked up to him, straight past James which left the tall boy to theatrics.
“Sirius did she just-” James gasped and clenched his chest.
“She did, James, she did.” Sirius walked up behind him with a smirk.
“Does she love me anymore?” He turned to Sirius and the shorter boy snickered.
“I don't think so, Jamie. I'll always love you, though.” Sirius indulged his theatrics and caught James (totally not with a struggle, totally smooth, Sirius is very strong) and James gasped. “You will, won't you, pads?”
“Always, my love.” Sirius declared his affections and James fanned his face like a swooning Victorian debutante. Lily rolled her eyes so hard she swore they would fall from her face.
She turned back to Remus who gave her a painful smile. “I left her a note like you suggested.”
“Anything?”
“Nothing.” Remus sighed and she nodded carefully.
“I'm sure there is more to it, Remus. Don't let it consume you.” Lily tried to reassure him and he sighed again, making James and Sirius catch up as they sat down.
“Yeah, there are a million girls in the world!” Sirius tried to cheer him up and both Lily and James winced at that.
“None of them are like her.” Remus sighed and Sirius gave an owl-like look and then gave a breath of shock. “... Damn Remus, that much, huh?”
He groaned and hit his head on the table. “I just want to sleep.”
“We could always ditch the sorting ceremony.” Lily tried to nudge him, he seemed to smile at her a bit at the offer.
“Yeah, but then you'll miss a seventh year being sorted.” Peter piped up and the four of them snapped over to look at him.
“What? Seventh?” She asked as she looked up at the kids in front of the hall, before she bit her tongue. “Right.. that Gaunt girl every Slytherin is losing their mind over?”
Sirius choked on his pumpkin juice before he quickly cleared his throat as James patted his back. “Woah mate!”
“Her! My mom was tutoring her all summer. Regulus told me. That girl, trying to be the perfect bride or some shit? Just another spoiled pureblood.” Sirius huffed and Lily gave a faint nod. “I hate to agree, but apparently she's the worst.”
“Of course, she's the Slytherin heir.” Sirius huffed. “Apparently she went to Dumstrung, and you know how awful they are.”
“Ah.” Lily mumbled and her eyes landed on you past the crowd, nudging Remus. “There she is. Oh Merlin, spoiled and pretty? Dangerous combination.”
Remus sighed and looked over as you sat on the chair. His entire body froze. “Ahh! {Y/N} Gaunt! Slytherin!”
The hat didn't hesitate. You had a calm blank expression you were tutored on all summer. Looking across the students, almost bored. You stood up and dusted off your robes, before you froze up at the sound of your name being shouted across the hall.
Remus didn't think. He saw you and shot up from his seat. Lily looked at him, startled, looking between the two before her eyes widened at the name. Oh Merlin.
Sirius was bewildered, James was stunned, and Peter hid his face away from the crowds of students who turned to look at Remus. He got a variety of different looks from everyone, but there was a running theme. Who do you think you are? Talking to Gaunt.
“{Y/N}.” He called again, firmer. You looked like a deer in headlights. Staring at him in a stunned silence before one of the girls you met on the train tugged at your sleeve. You glanced at her and by the time you looked back, Remus was rushing across the hall to you. No no no no no.
“Fuck.” You hissed and snatched your sleeve from her. You watched as he closed in on you. You felt every hair on your neck stand up. “Fuck fuck.” You whispered.
You panicked. And you ran. He was stunned and froze on the spot. You ran straight out of the hall. Remus cursed and turned to his friends, then to the professors. Lily tried to stand and bring him back to sit down, but as if he was a wild animal, the movement gave him a rush of adrenaline. What did he do? What did this absolute stupid and love sick fool do?
He ran after you. The entire hall was silent, even the professors stunned before his head of house yelled at him to sit down. He ignored them, turning the corner out of the hall and dashing down the hall he saw you run down.
The hall was quiet for a moment or two, before Lily spoke up. “I'll make it up to you, Professors!” She shouted back before she ran after the two.
“Me too!” James shouted and followed after her.
“I will not!” Sirius laughed and ran after them, Peter looking at the shouting professor before she made eye contact with him. Peter slowly sat up and she gave him a warning glance, before he quickly scrambled after his friends.
McGonagall could only sigh as Dumbledore stifled a laugh into his sleeve.