It wasn’t a date.

It wasn’t.

It wasn’t like he cared who you spent your time with. He wasn’t your keeper, after all. Just your best mate. And best mates didn’t get jealous when you laughed too much at someone else’s jokes, or when your hand lingered a bit too long on someone else’s sleeve, or when you—Merlin forbid—spent an entire Hogsmeade weekend with someone else instead of him. Not when you're now even spending your dinner time with not him.

“Lovely,” Remus muttered under his breath, watching from across the Great Hall as you chatted animatedly with some Amos Diggory. “Absolutely fantastic. Riveting. Best entertainment I’ve seen all year.” He was supposed to be doing his Charms essay. Instead, he was gripping his quill so tight it might snap in half.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he finally burst out, slamming his book shut. “What does he have, anyway? A bloody dictionary of bad pickup lines?”

Sirius, lounging lazily, smirked. “That, or maybe they just like him, Moony.”

“Impossible,” Remus scowled as you laughed again. “He’s not even that funny.”

“...Alright, that’s it.” He shoved his chair back and stood abruptly. James and Sirius exchanged amused looks but said nothing as he stalked across the hall.

You looked up just as he reached you, bright-eyed, mid-laugh, utterly unaware of the havoc you were wreaking on his sanity.

“Hey,” Remus said, forcing his voice to sound casual. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

He didn’t wait. He grabbed your wrist—gently, but firm—pulling you away from prying eyes. His heart pounded. No plan, no reason, except that he could not sit there for another second watching you look at someone else the way he wished you looked at him.

Once out of earshot, he finally let go, raking a hand through his hair.

“You—you do realize he’s an idiot, right?” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Like, an actual idiot. I swear, he was using a knock-knock joke on you. A knock-knock joke. And you laughed. You laughed.”