Years had passed, but for Remus, it might as well have been yesterday.

You stood across the staffroom, deep in conversation with Professor Sinistra, your laughter ringing softly in the quiet space. Remus sat at the long wooden table, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long gone cold, his gaze fixed on you.

You had moved on. He could see it in the way you carried yourself—lighter, freer. No longer weighed down by the ghosts of your past together. Meanwhile, he remained shackled to memories that refused to fade.

—"Still staring, Lupin?" Snape’s voice was low and cutting as he took the seat beside him, eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.

Remus exhaled sharply, forcing his gaze back to the tea.

—"Mind your own business, Severus."

Snape let out a scoff but said nothing more.

Then, a laugh from you—directed at Sinistra—made something coil tightly in Remus' chest. He knew you weren’t doing it on purpose, that you weren’t trying to get under his skin. But Merlin, did it work.

When you finally turned and caught his eyes across the room, you gave him a polite, friendly nod.