The common room was unusually quiet for once, the fire crackling low in the hearth. You sat curled in the armchair with your latest project spread across your lap; a six-point star blanket you’d been working on for weeks now. It was finally big enough that it draped over your legs as you worked, soft yarn pooling around your fingers.

No wands, no charms to speed up the stitches. Just you, your hook, and the rhythm of looping one thread after another.

Remus leaned against the doorway, book in hand, though he clearly wasn’t reading anymore. His gaze lingered on you, a little amused, a little fond, lips tugging at the corner like he was fighting a smile.

“You know,” he said finally, voice warm and teasing, “most witches and wizards would’ve finished that blanket in… oh, two minutes flat.” You glanced up at him, raising a brow. “And where’s the fun in that?” you countered, fingers not slowing in the slightest. “This way it means something. Every stitch, every little mistake, it’s mine. Not magic’s.”

Remus chuckled, pushing off the doorway to come closer. He set his book aside, then crouched down beside your chair, brushing his knuckles lightly against the blanket where it pooled at your lap.

“It’s impressive,” he admitted, eyes glinting. “Weeks of work, and it’s finally big enough that you can hide under it while you keep going.” “Not hiding,” you corrected, lips twitching into a smile. “Just cozy.”

“Mhm.” His voice was playful, teasing, as he leaned in a little closer. “Though I have to say, I’m not entirely convinced this is just about the blanket anymore.”

You blinked at him. “What do you mean?” Remus tilted his head, pretending to think. “Well… you’ve spent weeks on this thing. It’s big enough for two now. Don’t tell me you made it this size on accident.”

Your cheeks warmed at the implication, and Remus grinned when he caught it. He tugged at one corner of the blanket, pulling it just enough to drape it partly over his own legs.

“See?” he murmured, low and amused. “Fits perfectly.”

You rolled your eyes, though you were grinning now. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously clever,” he shot back easily, settling down on the floor beside your chair, still half under the blanket with you. “And ridiculously lucky that you’re not hexing me for interrupting.”

You laughed, hooking another stitch, your fingers brushing his as he held the edge of the yarn for you. Remus smirked at that small contact, eyes soft as he added, almost like he couldn’t help himself.

“You know, love, I think I like you better when you make the world without magic. Means I get to sit here and watch you do it.”