Hey, Remus!

Remus cleared his throat, glancing toward the door.
"Perhaps we should... relocate? The kitchen is warmer, and I imagine you have quite a few questions."
Maria blinked, still taking in the surreal surroundings of Grimmauld Place.
"The kitchen?"
"Yes. Unless you'd prefer to sit here, in the dark, and risk Sirius wandering in. He's not exactly... approachable these days."
Maria's eyes widened.
"Sirius is here?"
Remus gave a wry smile.
"He is. Though he's probably sulking upstairs."
The mention of Sirius Black—alive, real, and currently sulking somewhere in the house—made Maria's head spin again. She rose to her feet unsteadily, leaning on the arm of the chair for support.
"Right. Kitchen sounds good."
As she followed him through the winding halls of the house, Maria couldn't help but whisper to herself,
"This is insane. Completely insane."
Remus glanced back over his shoulder, his expression amused.
"I still think you're really taking it rather well, all things considered."
"Am I?" Maria snorted. "I told you, I feel like I'm two seconds away from a mental breakdown."
"You're holding up better than some wizards I've known when faced with less shocking revelations," he replied, a teasing lilt in his voice.
Maria rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
"High praise, I'm sure."
They reached the kitchen, dimly lit by the soft glow of a lantern on the table. The atmosphere was warmer, cozier, though it still carried the eerie, worn-down feel of Grimmauld Place.
Remus gestured to one of the wooden chairs.
"Sit. I'll make tea."
Maria sat, folding her hands on the table and watching as he moved about the kitchen with ease. She still couldn't believe this was happening. Remus Lupin—kind, thoughtful, and endlessly patient—was real, standing there making tea as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
He placed a steaming cup in front of her before settling into the chair across from her.
"There."
Maria wrapped her hands around the cup, savoring the warmth.
"Thank you." She took a sip, letting the soothing heat calm her nerves.
For a few moments, they sat in silence, both processing the bizarre situation they found themselves in.
It was Remus who finally broke the quiet.
"So. You know far more about me than I'm comfortable with."
Maria gave an awkward laugh.
"I guess that's true."
"And yet, despite having read every line of your story, I find that the real you remains wonderfully mysterious." His gaze softened, a mix of curiosity and kindness. "Maria... how did you end up here?"
"I have no idea," she said honestly. "One minute, I was at home finishing my latest fanfic. The next, I'm here. In your world." She bit her lip. "Which makes no sense, because your world shouldn't exist."
Remus gave a thoughtful hum.
"And yet, here you are."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the wooden surface.
"Tell me more about these... stories. The ones people write about me. What kind of tales do they tell?"
Maria took a careful sip of tea, savoring the warmth before answering.
"Oh, you wouldn't believe half of them. There are romance stories, adventure stories, alternate universes..." She hesitated, her smile faltering. "And then there are the sad ones. Angst. Tragedy."
Remus's expression darkened, his fingers tightening around his cup.
"I see."
"But my stories?" Maria said quickly, a little too brightly. "I try to give you a happy ending. You deserve one."
Remus looked up, meeting her gaze. Something unspoken passed between them—a connection forged in shared loneliness and longing.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
Maria's cheeks warmed again, and she gave a nervous laugh.
"Yeah, well... It's the least I can do. After all, you've been my companion through some rough times."
Remus tilted his head, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
"Funny. I was just thinking the same thing."
For a moment, the kitchen was silent, the crackling fire the only sound between them. Then Maria smirked, mischief glinting in her eyes.
"Although..." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "There are other stories too."
Remus raised an eyebrow.
"Other stories?"
Maria bit her lip, trying not to giggle.
"Some people in my world write stories about you and Sirius... as a couple."
Remus's eyes widened in shock. He sputtered, nearly spilling his tea.
"I'm sorry—what?"
Maria burst out laughing.
"For real! It's a whole thing. People think you two have this hidden love story."
Remus gaped at her, utterly baffled.
"That's... that's absurd! Sirius is like my brother." He shook his head, looking thoroughly scandalized. "And besides, we'd never survive as a couple. He's a walking time bomb."
Maria snorted into her tea.
"I know, right? I always thought that too. But people love the idea of the brooding werewolf and the reckless rebel in love."
Remus groaned, rubbing his temples.
"Merlin's beard... I think I need stronger tea."
They shared another laugh, the tension easing.
But then Remus's expression grew more serious.
"In those books of yours... do we win the war?"
Maria sobered instantly, the weight of his question settling between them. She placed her cup down gently, folding her hands in her lap.
"Yes. You defeat Voldemort. Harry defeats him."
Relief washed over Remus's features, but it was tempered by caution.
"And... at what cost?"
Maria hesitated.
"There are casualties."
Remus studied her closely, his sharp mind picking up on what she wasn't saying.
"I'm one of them."
Her silence was answer enough. He sat back, exhaling slowly. His gaze drifted toward the fire, thoughtful rather than distressed.
"Well... that's not surprising."
"You're not upset?" Maria asked softly.
Remus shook his head.
"I've always known my life would be a short one. It comes with the territory." He offered a small, sad smile. "If anything, I'm proud to know we won."
Maria swallowed the lump in her throat.
"You're a hero, Remus. People love you. Admire you."
Remus's brow furrowed, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. He shifted in his chair, his hands wrapping around his cup like it was a shield.
"A hero..." he murmured, shaking his head. "I've never thought of myself that way."
"Well, you should." Maria's voice softened. "You were posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class. The first werewolf ever to receive that honor."
His head snapped up, his expression one of sheer disbelief.
"The Order of Merlin, First Class?"
Maria nodded, her gaze steady.
"The example of your life and death did much to lift the stigma on werewolves. You changed things, Remus. For so many people."
He blinked rapidly, stunned into silence. His fingers traced the rim of his cup, his mind clearly whirring as he processed her words. For a long moment, he stared into the fire, thoughtful rather than distressed.
"I... I don't know what to say," he finally whispered.
"You don't have to say anything." Maria offered a small, encouraging smile. "Just know that you mattered. You still matter."
Maria cleared her throat, glancing at Remus with a mix of hesitation and determination. She wanted to see him smile—really smile—and this might be the only way.
"You know," she began carefully, "you will find happiness."
Remus looked at her, startled by the sudden shift in tone. His brow furrowed, his usual guarded expression slipping back into place.
"What do you mean?"
She took a deep breath, choosing her words with care.
"I mean... you're not alone. Not forever, at least. You find love, Remus."
He blinked, taken aback.
"Love?"
Maria nodded, a small, hopeful smile playing at her lips.
"Yes. You get married."
For a moment, Remus was silent, absorbing the words as if they were foreign to him. He looked down, his fingers curling slightly against the worn armrest of his chair.
"Married," he repeated softly, as if testing the word.
"Yes," Maria affirmed, her voice gentle. "She's someone who sees you for who you are. All of you. Someone who chooses you."
"That's... impossible." He shook his head, the denial immediate. "I've never been... I couldn't... I wouldn't risk that. Not with my condition. I mean, I'm not exactly husband material, you know." His voice grew more agitated, his hand running through his hair as he paced in front of the fireplace. "Who would marry me? Who would choose that life?"
Maria shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to break the news.
"Well... she's someone you know. And she chooses you. She loves you. Fiercely."
Remus stopped pacing, turning to her with a wary, almost incredulous expression.
"Who?"
Maria took a deep breath.
"Nymphadora Tonks."
The reaction was immediate.
"Tonks?"
Maria nodded, biting her lip to suppress a grin.
"But... but she's... she's..." Remus trailed off, searching for words, clearly baffled.
"Funny? Quirky? Brave? Incredibly loyal?" Maria supplied helpfully.
"She's also young!" Remus finally blurted out, throwing his hands in the air. "And... and bright. And alive!" He shook his head in disbelief. "And she... she chooses me?"
Maria couldn't hold back a chuckle.
"Yes. She does."
"But why?!" He looked genuinely perplexed, as if the very notion defied all logic. "I barely even know her! We've worked together a few times for the Order, but that's it. We're colleagues! Acquaintances! Nothing more."
Maria shrugged.
"Apparently, she sees something in you that you don't see in yourself."
Remus groaned, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off a headache.
"Merlin's beard... Tonks. I just... I can't picture it."
Maria giggled.
"Would you prefer that it was Sirius?"
Remus shot her a horrified look.
"What?"
"I'm joking!" Maria laughed, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Relax!"
He groaned again, covering his face with his hands.
"I'm never living this down."
Maria burst out laughing, and despite himself, Remus chuckled too. For the first time that night, the laughter between them felt real—shared, genuine, and utterly absurd.
Finally, Remus spoke.
"Maria... we need to figure out why you're here. This isn't something that happens every day. And I can't shake the feeling that your arrival isn't random."
Maria exhaled, her breath stirring the steam from her mug.
"Yeah, about that. I've been trying to convince myself I'm not having a psychotic break, but honestly? I'm not ruling it out."
Remus smiled faintly.
"Well, in case it helps... I don't think you're mad. I think there's magic at play here—old magic."
Maria looked up, her expression skeptical.
"Old magic?"
"Magic we don't fully understand," Remus clarified. "And there's one person who might have an idea."
Maria's eyes widened.
"Dumbledore?"
Remus nodded.
"If anyone can explain this, it's him."

*

The office smelled of beeswax and parchment, the scent mingling with the faint aroma of lemon drops. Maria sat awkwardly in a chair, fidgeting with her sleeves, while Remus stood beside her, his expression thoughtful.
Dumbledore observed her over his half-moon spectacles, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
"Maria Duarte," he said softly, the name rolling off his tongue like an incantation. "You are quite the anomaly."
Maria's stomach twisted with nerves.
"That's one way to put it."
Dumbledore's gaze shifted to Remus.
"And you say she appeared quite suddenly? In mumber 12 Grimmauld Place's library?"
"Yes," Remus confirmed. "Out of nowhere. And she knows things... things about all of us."
Maria sighed.
"I swear I'm not a stalker. It's just... your world is famous where I come from. There are books. Films. You're all part of a story."
Dumbledore's expression didn't change. He simply nodded, as if that made perfect sense.
"Ah, yes. The threads of fate are often spun in the strangest of places, my dear."
Maria blinked.
"Wait, what?"
Dumbledore smiled gently.
"You have crossed the fabric of reality for a reason."
Maria leaned forward, her hands gripping the armrests of her chair.
"What reason?"
"That," Dumbledore said with a touch of mystery, "is something we must discover together. But I can tell you this—your presence here is not without purpose. It is not a mistake."
Remus frowned.
"But why now? And how?"
Dumbledore steepled his fingers.
"Magic is as much about intent as it is about power," Dumbledore continued, his voice calm but carrying that mysterious weight it always seemed to have. "It weaves through time and space in ways even the wisest of us cannot fully comprehend. I believe Maria's longing to escape her world—and her deep connection to ours—created a bridge between realities."
Maria's jaw dropped.
"You're saying I wished myself into your world?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles.
"In a manner of speaking, yes. But such magic rarely works from one side alone."
Remus frowned.
"What do you mean?"
The older wizard turned to him with a knowing smile.
"I suspect someone on this side of the bridge wished for the same thing. Perhaps even someone sitting in this room."
Maria glanced at Remus, her heart skipping a beat.
"Wait... you're saying he wished for my world?"
Dumbledore inclined his head slightly.
"Not precisely, but I imagine there was a mutual yearning for connection. A desire to find solace in another's story." He let his words hang in the air for a moment before adding, "Books are powerful things. They allow us to live countless lives, to explore worlds beyond our own. When two hearts, both seeking escape, focus on each other's stories, the magic that binds them can grow... unpredictable."
Maria's mind raced. She thought of the countless hours she'd spent reading and writing stories about Remus, pouring her soul into each word, imagining his life in vivid detail. And then there was Remus—reading about her in that mysterious book, finding solace in her world. Two people, worlds apart, connected by words and wishes.
Remus shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze.
"I—well, I didn't exactly wish you into existence."
"But you were reading about me." Her voice was a mix of incredulity and amusement.
"I... may have come across a book," he admitted. "It felt... different from other novels. I couldn't explain why, but it drew me in."
Maria leaned forward, her grin widening.
"You were reading about me, and you liked it."
Remus's ears turned pink.
"I wouldn't say—"
"You totally did!" Maria practically bounced in her chair. "You were escapism-reading about me, and somehow, that helped me cross over!"
"I don't know if 'escapism-reading' is an actual term," Remus muttered, but he couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips.
Maria burst out laughing.
"Oh my God. This is insane. You're telling me that I ended up here because I read and wrote stories about you, and you were reading about me?" She shook her head, still giggling. "This is like a weird magical pen-pal situation."
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with quiet amusement.
"The magic of connection often works in mysterious ways."
Maria leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her hair.
"This is insane." She repeated.
Remus cleared his throat.
"Welcome to my world. Literally."
Maria dropped her hands, staring at Dumbledore with wide, incredulous eyes.
"Okay, fine. I'm here. But what now? You don't just pull someone out of their world without a plan, right?"
Dumbledore's expression grew solemn.
"Indeed. There is a war brewing, Maria. Voldemort has returned. The Order of the Phoenix is gathering once again to fight against his forces. And I believe you have a role to play in that fight."