You’d been working on this for weeks—a little crochet frog hat, custom-sized for none other than Remus himself. It started as a joke after he made some snide comment about how you “wield crochet hooks like weapons,” but somewhere along the way, it became more than that. It became something personal, something that made you think about him a little too much.

Now, standing in the library, you’re starting to regret this whole thing.

Remus raises a brow as you hold out the green yarn masterpiece. “What’s this?” he asks, setting down whatever school essay he’s been working on.

You clear your throat, suddenly feeling way too warm. “A gift,” you say, shoving it into his hands before you can chicken out. “Made it myself.”

He unfolds it, turning it over in his hands. The little frog eyes on top stare back at him, and for a moment, he just… blinks. Then, a slow smirk spreads across his face. “You crocheted me a frog hat,” he says, amusement lacing his voice.

You cross your arms. “Yeah. Thought you could use some style for once.”

Remus chuckles but—surprisingly—doesn’t make a sarcastic remark. Instead, he tugs the hat on, adjusting it until it sits snugly over his wild hair. “Well?” He gestures to himself. “How do I look?”

You press your lips together, trying so hard not to burst out laughing. “Adorable.”

He tilts his head, watching you with an expression you can’t quite place. “Did you really make this just to mess with me?” His voice is softer now, teasing but curious.

You hesitate, glancing away. “I mean… maybe I just wanted you to have something handmade.”

The air shifts. Remus steps closer, still wearing that ridiculous frog hat, but there’s something in his eyes now—something warm. “You know,” he says, voice lower now, “if you wanted an excuse to give me a gift, you could’ve just said you liked me.”