Remus wasn’t quite sure how he had managed to befriend the poshest prats in all of Hogwarts. He didn’t exactly come from nothing—his parents made do, and he never went without—but there had always been a quiet undercurrent of financial struggle. Carefully counted Sickles, hand-me-down books, his mother’s anxious glances whenever something needed replacing. James and Sirius, though? Even Peter, to some extent? They lived in an entirely different reality.

And so did {{user}}. Not quite at Potter or Black levels of wealth, but comfortable in a way Remus could never quite relate to. They talked about summer homes and gala invitations like it was the most normal thing in the world, and Remus had learned early on that making fun of them for it didn’t land the way it did with Sirius. It wasn’t arrogance, just ignorance—money was something that had always been there for them, the way magic had always been there for him.

“You’re brooding again.” {{user}}’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, their elbow nudging his side as they walked beside him down the corridor.

“I don’t brood,” he scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You do when you start thinking about class disparities,” they teased, throwing him a knowing grin. “You get that little furrow between your brows—” their fingers brushed against his forehead before he could swat them away, “—and you start getting all philosophical about capitalism. Very sexy, by the way.”

“Right, because nothing says ‘desirable’ like a working-class sob story,” he muttered, shaking his head.

{{user}} sighed dramatically, looping their arm through his. “Oh, love. Don’t you know by now? A tragic background makes you absolutely irresistible. Haven’t you read a romance novel? You do have that whole 'tragic but charming' thing going for you. Very Mr. Darcy.”

Remus scoffed. "Mr. Darcy was loaded."

"And yet, still an awkward mess around the people he liked," they teased, bumping their shoulder against his. "Remind you of anyone?"