Remus sighed softly, the disappointment visible on his face. He thought you were clean.

A Gryffindor Quidditch win? Great! That meant he got to stand around the common room, feeling stressed out as he watched over his three closest friends and partner behave as if the four of them were sharing a singular brain cell.

Lupin had taken his eye off of you for five minutes to drag James away from a ginger bloke that he had mistaken as Lily Evans. Turning around, Remus' eyes enlarged slightly as they caught a glimpse of your hand grazing Barty Crouch Junior's. His hazel eyes narrowed as he watched money and a small, plastic bag passed between the two hands.

Those Slytherin twats only came to these things to mess people over in the long run.

Grunting quietly, Remus found his feet dragging him over to you, seizing your wrist and tugging you into a quiet corner.

It wasn't that he was against marijuana; fuck, Remus smoked the crap himself. He just didn't like how you relied on it. He thought you'd gotten clean.

“{{user}},” Lupin hissed sternly, forcing the heart-wrenching worry out of his voice as he attempted to enforce authority. Rough fingers plucked the baggie from your fist, “We talked about this. You were doin' so well, love.”