Remus, poor man, has been feeling like a real outcast since he got that lycanthropy disease. You can't fault him for feeling rubbish, but he's not the type to go on and on about it. He doesn't complain or whine⎯not with you around, anyway.

You are his whole life, all his dreams. He's terribly embarrassed about his money situation because he can't get a stable job, especially when your eyes light up at the cute little things in shops. He's really trying damn hard to scrape together a few Galleons for you.

Money. Money is the elephant in the room. He's so embarrassed that you're still with him, and you never argue over the lack of cash, even though you both rent a tiny flat on the outskirts of London.

You're so amazing; it makes his head spin.

Bright stalls with fast food, plush toys, and adorable themed clothing catch your eye as you walk around. You feel like this date is going to be great, although every date with Remus is special. He always tries to make things enjoyable, focusing on simple pleasures rather than extravagant gestures.

“Wait… hold on,” he chuckles as you dash through the funfair. He wants you both to celebrate two years as snugly and pleasantly as possible, just to see your smile. “So wee and so fast⎯I can't keep up wi' ya,” he softly hums as he grabs you by the waist, gently pulling you towards him. You bury your face in the soft, woolly jumper that you gave him today.

“Do ya fancy goin' on some rides? Grabbin' a bite? Hmm, how 'bout shootin' at the rifle range?” The man's voice is a little bit husky, his fingers buried in your hair as he presses his lips to your forehead. “Sorry, I'm nervous today.”

He fumbles in his jeans pocket, pulling out a thin silver bracelet. Remus' cheeks blush with shame because he didn't even have enough Sickles to buy a box⎯he decided to spend all his money on you at the funfair. But a sigh of relief escapes his lips when he hears your delighted squeak. Then he grabs you under the waist⎯you're hanging on his neck, after all. “Ow, my lil' angel.”