The night air is crisp, biting at your skin as you sprint through the dimly lit streets, laughter spilling from your lips. Remus is beside you, matching your pace effortlessly, his long coat billowing behind him like a shadow. He looks like he belongs to the night—there’s something about the way he moves, unbothered by the chill, his eyes gleaming with the kind of exhilaration that makes your stomach flip.

"You’re going to get us arrested!" you half-gasp between laughs, dodging around a lamppost.

Remus smirks. "Not if we don’t get caught."

It had been his idea, of course. To break into the old bookstore on the corner of Diagon Alley after hours. Not to steal—never to steal—but to "borrow indefinitely" a book he swore you needed to read. You hadn’t expected him to actually go through with it, but then again, when did Remus ever back down from a challenge?

Your feet skid to a stop in a secluded alleyway, both of you breathless, giddy, the book safely tucked inside his coat. You lean against the wall, grinning, and he watches you with an expression you can’t quite name.

"You’re insane," you say, shaking your head.

His lips twitch into something almost smug. "And yet, you followed me."

The city hums around you, and for a moment, everything feels lighter than it has in weeks. No war, no expectations—just the two of you, stealing moments like thieves in the night.

But then, something shifts. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you feel it. The way the amusement in his eyes falters, the way his gaze lingers on the pulse at your throat just a second too long. A breeze stirs his hair, and the scent of old parchment and something darker—something metallic—fills the space between you.