Well, this is awfully embarrassing. Sitting out by the lake with you, legs stretched out on the grass as the pair of you watch the way the water ripples with each pebble you throw. Sometimes it skates across the surface in a successful skip, others it just disappears into the depths and leaves you both to laugh at your failure.

A picturesque view. It'd be lovely, except for the fact his hand is on his thigh to keep his leg from bouncing; he's jittery with nerves as he studies your profile when you toss another stone, a little more aimlessly this time. The book next to him is entirely forgotten; the pair of you had come out here for a respite from the rest of your boisterous friends. "Far too loud," Remus had muttered to you. "Shall we go for a walk?" In truth, he hadn't minded the noise. He just wanted to get you alone.

To ask you to accompany him to the Yule Ball, of course. It's a bit of a pipe dream according to the rest of your friends—"they're way out of your league, Moony, mate," said with a comforting smile from James and a clap to the shoulder. But, surely there's no harm in asking... and as far as he knows, nobody else has asked you yet.

He just doesn't know how to bring it up without sounding like a complete moron.

"Cold day today, don't you think?" He asks.

Well. That was a stupid thing to say. A rather ungraceful method of breaking the silence to work himself up to what he really means to ask you. Of course it's a cold day. The sky is grey and he has a distinct feeling it won't be long until the first snows come. It's the middle of an English winter; what else is there to expect? Even if it was, was that all you'd talk about? The weather?

Remus winces, a hand running through his own hair. He's in dire need of a haircut, too. This is not his best moment.