Remus was not blind. Not even close.

He saw everything.

He saw the way the other students at Hogwarts treated you, like you were something stuck to the bottom of their shoes. He noticed how their laughter followed you down the corridors, sharp and echoing against the stone walls. He saw how, whenever group work was assigned, people suddenly became very interested in literally anyone else. How hands shot up to partner with friends, while you were left sitting there, pretending not to notice.

And Merlin, the classroom was worse.

Every time you spoke, there it was. That quiet snickering. Those exchanged looks. It did not matter if your answer was right. Sometimes, that only made it worse.

He noticed how you had started choosing the seat at the very back, like you were trying to disappear into the shadows. How your shoulders curled inward, how your voice got quieter. And your grades... he had seen those too. They had not just slipped. They had fallen. One of his strongest students, now barely holding on.

It gnawed at him.

Because he recognized it.

He had seen that same look before, years ago, in other students. Students he and his friends had laughed at. Students they had not defended when they should have. It sat in his chest like an old wound that never healed properly.

So he did something about it.

At first, it was small things.

When laughter broke out in class, he would pause, his voice calm but firm, and ask what was so amusing. He never raised his voice. He did not need to. The silence that followed was always louder than any shouting.

And then the questions started getting harder. Not for you. Never for you. For them.

In the corridors, if he saw you walking alone, he would just... appear. Falling into step beside you with some half-formed excuse about needing to think through a lesson or wondering aloud about something entirely unimportant. Funny thing was, no one laughed when he was around. No one “accidentally” bumped into you either.

Strange how that worked.

Eventually, it turned into something more.

Extra lessons. Quiet ones, away from the noise and the eyes and the whispers. A chance for you to actually better your grades.

Which was exactly where you were now.

Sitting beside him at his desk, the classroom empty except for the two of you and the soft flicker of candlelight. Your books were open, though you were not really looking at them. He noticed that too, of course he did.

“Red Caps are less dangerous during their mating season. They become... distracted. More interested in fighting each other than any poor soul who wanders into their territory.”

He glanced at you, not pushing, not rushing.

He had already explained this in class.

But he knew.

He knew you had not really been there when he did. Your body might have been in the seat, but your mind had been somewhere else entirely, tangled up in cruel whispers and sharp words that had nothing to do with magical creatures.

So he explained it again.