The Hall was chaos tonight. So much so it almost sounded less like dinner and more like a bazaar. Young and intelligent Remus Lupin was known across Hogwarts for both his erudition and pretty face. Though he was only one of the many heartthrobs Gryffindor House boasted of, he was famously “the only innocent one from Potter’s lot”. The other fourth years had already agreed among themselves that Lupin will definitely be made Prefect next year.
Naturally, when people found out how McGonagall had dished out detention on the Golden Boy, the rumour mill of Hogwarts ran wild. Even the teachers (rather, especially the teachers) were shell-shocked. How and why Lupin was caught jinxing the Bludger right on the Slytherin’s practice day, they couldn’t fathom.
But you could.
“Honestly, Remus, you’d have saved your neck if you simply told the truth!” Marlene McKinnon shook her mane. “To hell with nobility!”
“The bloody snakes deserved it,” Sirius Black agreed. “You don’t have to be scrubbing bronze with Filch ‘cause of it!”
Remus simply shook his head in response, barely looking up from the book he had his nose buried in. “It’s already over with, Pads. I don’t mind it, really.”
“But this time it’s just you!” Potter whined. “If you’d just let me admit to McGonagall that you did it for a prank of mine, then at least we can both serve detention.”
“Honestly, Jamie. I can handle it alone very well, relax.” He held out his hand across the table to where you sat. You dropped a tart onto his scarred palm. “Thanks. No more arguments on this, guys, I’ll be fine.”
James Potter sniffed, picking at his food. It was true, Remus had been jinxing the Slytherin brooms and the Bludgers to help with a prank James had planned on the wretched rascals of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He had not counted on McGonagall walking past the Quidditch Supply Room on her way to the grounds… finding the door open… and then catching his friend mid-crime. This was not the first time Remus would be serving detention, thanks to his reckless friends. But this would be the first time he served alone.
In short, James was torn. Though really, you couldn’t comprehend what his problem was. The trophy room was always unlocked thanks to Peeves, it wasn’t too hard to slip inside to accompany a lonely friend.
Because that was exactly what you did.
“Where are you going?”
“Oh. Just… going for a walk?” You grinned anxiously.
Lily Evans chuckled. “A walk to the trophy room?” She waved a hand to shut your stutters. “Oh come on, y/l/n, I’m not daft. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
“…Oh.”
She stifled a laugh at your surprised expression. “Well run along, Longbottom’s on Prefect patrol today.”
Every Gryffindor knew Frank was the sweetest friend to all: he almost never told on a housemate. Perfect. You waved good night to Lily before dashing out the dorms, tiptoeing out of the common room and striding down the hallways to Filch’s trophy room. You didn’t bother knocking, slowly slipping the door open. Remus was there on the far end of the room, humming to himself as he rubbed a cloth on an ancient cup.
It wasn’t until the door creaked shut that he looked up. “Oh. Y/l/n? I didn’t know you were in detention too?”
“I’m not as stupid as you, Lupin,” you chuckled. “I just… dropped by to check on you.”
“… It’s past curfew.”
“I am aware,” you slid your fingers along a line of medals on the wall. “What’s that song you were singing?”
“Humming,” he corrected with a smile. “Born To Be Wild.”
“Steppenwolf?” You cocked an eyebrow in amusement, Accio-ing over a cloth to start scrubbing the dusty medals. “Didn’t think that would be your taste.”
“It’s less taste and more… meaning,” Lupin shrugged with a mysterious glint in his eyes. “You don’t have to—“
“I just want to help you,” you tossed another cloth at his face to shut him up. He let out a bubbly laugh and caught it before going back to his own work. “Meaning huh… Meh, I still prefer something more dance-able.”
“Dance-able?” Lupin chuckled. “Is that a word?”
“It ought to be so I shall make it one,” you grinned nonchalantly.
“Name a dance-able song that fits Your Excellency’s tastes.”
“Hm... Hooked on a Feeling?”
Lupin turned to you with raised eyebrows, fingers slowly rubbing along the rim of a cup. “Just because it is dance-able? Or…”
“It has meaning to it, I suppose. I’m…”
“Hooked on a feeling,” Lupin bobbed his head to the beat you hummed.
“I’m high on believing…”
“That you’re in love with me.”
“Who knew Pretty Prefect Lupin was a singer,” you smirked. Hearing no laugh in response, you looked up from the cabinet of medals to find the boy silently staring at you. His head was tilted by an inch, like a pondering puppy. His eyes twinkled like he had just discovered something truly interesting and amusing. And he was smiling: that tiny tip of his lips that often signalled he was really liking said discovery. It sent a shiver down your spine, but also pleasantly churned your stomach. This is it, you told yourself. Time you pulled the line Dorcas had been nagging you to use at some point in life. “Like what you see?”
“I very much do.” The smile grew a millimetre wider. Goodness the room was bloody hot—
Click. Creeeeeeak… Snap. The door opening and closing on its own made you jump out of your trance and shoot a hex at whatever terrifying spirit was— “Oh. Potter. Have you not heard of bloody knocking?”
James pulled off his Invisibility Cloak, tucking it away and muttering the counter-hex on the attacked Sirius. “Have you not heard of patience?”
“I’m the best at Defence for a reason,” you stuck out your tongue. “What are you doing here?”
“I do believe that is for us to ask,” Black raised an eyebrow.
“I...” You averted your eyes back to the medals, shutting the cabinet and moving onto the shelf of glass prizes. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here under detention too.”
From the corner of your eyes you could see Lupin paused in his attempt at reaching a high shelf, before casually proceeding. Phew.
“Oooh interesting,” Potter skipped over to you. “What did you do?”
“Encouraging Peeves to hit patrol Prefects with muffins.” That wasn’t a lie: you had done that, just that Prefect Lupin was the one who caught you so you never really got detention. “I suppose you two are here for moral support? Where’s the mouse?”
“Funny you should call him that,” Potter grinned subtly. “Pete fell asleep early.” His voice trailed off when Black tugged on his sleeve. James looked around to meet Remus’s eyes: the Prefect was signalling something to him. Something you didn’t quite understand but… you could surmise well. “Oh, right! The homework, yes, yes, Merlin, I forgot. Do we have to submit it tomorrow, Pads?”
“Yep.”
“We really should go finish it then…”
“I’ll write yours for you, Remy, you wrap this up quick and come get some sleep.” Sirius shot him a wink, mouthing ‘Have fun’ before dragging James outside and shutting the door.
Your eyebrows had reached your hairline by now. “… What on Earth was that about?”
Lupin shrugged, a half-smile on his face. “The not-so-true answer? I reminded them of homework.”
“One that doesn’t exist. In case you forgot, we share the same classes.”
He only grinned wider. “The honest answer? I chased them out.”
“Why?”
Both your dust-lined shelf and his greasy cupboard had long since been abandoned.
“Because it isn’t often that I catch a moment longer than five seconds with you, without half a House or my dear friends to butt in. Even rarer than catching you lying so smoothly.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “If I'd told them I was here to accompany you, they’d announce a wedding by morning.”
“And maybe I wouldn’t mind that.”
Good Godric did you want to wipe that self-satisfied, all-knowing grin off his face. Which you did. Gryffindors weren’t known for avoiding their impulses after all.
The grimy cloth lay on the shelf. There wasn’t much distance to close so it was only a matter of seconds you saw the pleasant surprise blossoming on his face before your lips met his. You waited for a response, which came fast: Remus cupped your face, returning the kiss all earnest and happy. His hair felt soft on your fingers. One hand raked through the golden strands while the other traced the scars across his face — all those jagged lines that only served to make him all the more handsome. He was soft and delicate, a thumb stroking your cheek, kissing so slowly and tenderly that you felt your brain and knees melting. It was nothing passionate, nothing even close to the X-rated literature Dorcas read: it was laced with all the chocolate he ate, and as gentle as the boy himself, as light and soothing as his hold on you. Merlin, he was so sweet.
It took a while for him to pull back, still not letting go of your face. “‘Lips as sweet as candy’ indeed,” he was grinning oh so merrily. “Your stash of Honeydukes jars is paying off.”
“Says the one who literally tastes of chocolate,” you quipped before gulping at how… odd that sounded.
He laughed at the fierce blush that painted your ears. “You spend too much with Dorcas, love. A— I meant— …Sorry.”
Oh, the delightful squirm in your tummy. “No, I like the sound of that.”
“Oh do you now?” He snickered, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Good. Though we really should wrap this up, love.”
His grin was contagious. “Well… you’re the one in detention, forced to clean by hand,” you said, pulling out your wand. “I’m not.” With that, you pushed away from him, going about the room waving your wand at the different shelves and cabinets, cups and medals, trophies and awards, Scourgify-ing some and using polishing charms on others. Over ten minutes later, you wiped your brow and turned around, blushing at the way Remus was watching like you had hung the moon. “What?”
“Surely I get to stare as much as I want now,” he walked over.
“I suppose so…”
He placed a chaste peck on your lips and held out his arm. “Come on, before Sirius comes looking for us and Lily has to save us all from McGonagall.”
You laughed and walked out the door, hugging his arm closer when a Prefect passed by. Privilege number one of being a Prefect’s partner: you get to walk around wherever, whenever, as long as it’s with them. You bit your lip, realising you had just called yourself Remus’s partner. Oh well, nothing wrong about it… “Remus.”
The boy’s footsteps stuttered for a bit at the first name. He turned to you, beaming wide. “Yes, love?”
God this was wonderful. “Why do I have a bad feeling Dorcas and James will be exchanging galleons with Sirius next morning?”
“…They definitely betted on this.” And Sirius definitely betted against it being the clingy prick he was, but neither of you needed to say it aloud. Instead, Remus held your arm closer, warily grousing, “Breakfast will be fun.”
