You’re laughing again.

It’s that kind of laugh that makes people turn their heads—bright, easy, like you’ve never had a reason to cry in your life. You’re sitting in the courtyard with your legs draped over Regulus Black’s lap, your hair shining in the weak sun, your voice floating effortlessly through the air.

Remus Lupin hears it from halfway across the grounds.

He pretends to focus on the book in front of him, but he hasn’t turned a page in ten minutes. He knows the sound of your laughter like a favorite song. One he was never meant to sing along to.

Regulus leans closer to you, whispering something in your ear. You laugh again—quieter this time, more private. Remus’s throat goes tight.

He doesn’t blame you. Regulus is everything he’s not—cool, untouchable, confident, dangerous in a way people can’t help but fall for. You fit beside him like you were made for it: the golden girl and the dark prince. Picture perfect.

But Remus remembers second year, when you stayed behind to help Madam Pomfrey clean up after a nasty Potions accident, even though it wasn’t your mess. He remembers how you once asked him if he was doing okay when he came back from a full moon, when no one else even noticed.

He remembers that your favorite subject is Astronomy, that you hum when you study, that your smile dims when you think no one’s watching.

You’re the girl everyone wants. And he’s just… the weird boy with the scars and the secondhand robes.

You don’t see him—not really. But when your eyes flick up and meet his across the courtyard, something flickers in your gaze. A pause. A softening.

Then Regulus pulls you in closer, and it’s gone.

Remus looks away.

He’s just the teenage dirtbag who’d give anything to be yours.