Hey, Remus!

The air inside Grimmauld Place felt even heavier than usual, pressing down like an unseen weight. Shadows stretched and twisted along the walls as candlelight flickered, casting a dim, wavering glow over the worn furniture. The old house creaked and groaned as if it, too, could sense the tension threading through its halls. The smell of old parchment, dust, and lingering traces of Black family magic clung to the air, thick and suffocating.
Despite the fire crackling softly in the hearth, the room felt cold. Not in temperature, but in something deeper: a kind of chill that settled into the bones. The house had always been a place of ghosts, both real and imagined, but tonight, its silence felt especially haunted.
Maria sat curled in a chair near the fireplace, staring at the embers as they pulsed softly, the glow reflected in her tired eyes. Her hands were wrapped around a cup of tea, fingers curled tightly around the ceramic, though the warmth barely registered. She had barely taken a sip.
Across from her, Remus paced the room, his strides restless, his expression dark with thought. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw set in that familiar way that meant his mind was working faster than he could articulate. Every few seconds, his fingers twitched as if he were about to reach for his wand, only to force himself not to.
Maria didn't need Legilimency to feel the anxiety radiating from him. It was like an electric current crackling in the space between them.
"Harry, Ron, and Hermione should have been here by now," he muttered, more to himself than to her.
Maria exhaled slowly, setting her cup aside, the ceramic clinking softly against the wooden table.
"Remus..."
He didn't stop pacing.
"They should have sent word." His voice was tight, sharper than he intended. "We don't know what's happened. They could have been delayed, or..."
He hesitated.
Maria saw the thought flash across his face before he could stop it.
Or something could have gone wrong.
His hands clenched.
"We should have insisted on knowing their exact movements," he continued, as if saying it aloud could change anything. "Or at least..."
Maria got to her feet, stepping into his path before he could take another step.
His momentum forced him to stop, and for the first time, he really looked at her.
Maria held his gaze, her expression calm but steady.
"Look," she said gently, carefully choosing her words. "I know I can't tell you anything I know," she emphasized the words deliberately, "since it could mess with the timeline... but I can tell you this: they're okay."
Remus stilled. Silence stretched between them, heavy and expectant. His sharp eyes searched hers, as if trying to find some hidden truth beneath her words.
"Do you trust me?" she asked, voice softer now.
The tension in his jaw relaxed just a fraction. Then, after a long pause, he sighed, his expression shifting into something more open, something more vulnerable. He reached up, cupping her cheek briefly, his thumb ghosting over her skin.
"Of course I do," he murmured.
Maria smiled, the warmth of his touch grounding her.
"Then stop acting like a mother hen, Professor."
His brows shot up, momentarily thrown off balance.
"Excuse me?"
She grinned, stepping back and folding her arms across her chest, her eyes glinting mischievously.
"You heard me. You're brooding, pacing, fretting, all very motherly qualities, if you ask me."
Remus let out a sharp breath of amusement, shaking his head.
"I'm being practical, not..."
"Oh no, no, you're protective to the point of being bossy, and you know it."
His mouth opened as if to argue, but Maria cut him off with a knowing look.
"I am not bossy," he countered, but there was laughter in his voice now, breaking through the earlier storm.
Maria arched a brow, tilting her head and trying to mimic his voice.
"You literally just told me yesterday to wear my boots instead of my flats because, and I quote, 'the cobblestone streets can be unpredictable, and I'd rather not risk you twisting your ankle.'"
"That was reasonable advice," he said, crossing his arms.
Maria beamed.
"You're adorable."
Remus groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as if she were the most impossible person he had ever met. But Maria caught the slight upward twitch of his lips before he turned away, and she knew she had won.
Still smiling, she reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently.
"Just so you know..." her voice softened, all teasing fading. "I love how overprotective you are. I really do. Even when it drives me a little crazy."
Remus looked down at her, and for a moment, all the tension in his shoulders melted.
His voice was quieter, almost hesitant when he said,
"I only want to keep you safe."
"I know." Maria squeezed his fingers again, her thumb tracing small circles over his skin. "And that's one of the reasons why I love it."
Their shared warmth settled the house's chill, if only for a moment. But outside, the war still loomed, and danger was never far away.
Later that evening, as the world outside remained uncertain, Maria found herself unable to shake a growing sense of unease. Her chest felt tight, her breaths coming faster than she wanted. The worry, the fear, it pressed against her, heavy and relentless.
Her hands trembled as she clutched the edge of the table in the kitchen. This wasn't new. She had always struggled with anxiety, but this war, this constant fear of losing the people she loved and her own life, was like fuel to the fire.
She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself.
A hand touched her shoulder.
"Mary?"
She looked up to see Remus watching her with quiet concern, his sharp gaze instantly taking in the way she was gripping the table, the unsteady rise and fall of her chest.
Without a word, he pulled out a chair and guided her into it before kneeling in front of her.
"What's wrong?"
She tried to shake her head, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them.
"I just... I can't stop thinking. About all of it. The war, the danger, what could happen to any of us at any moment." Her voice cracked, and she looked away. "It's stupid."
Remus reached up, gently tilting her chin back toward him.
"It's not stupid." His voice was firm but kind. "It's terrifying. And it's alright to feel that way. I understand."
Maria's eyes burned.
"You don't."
He huffed a quiet laugh.
"Oh, love, I do. Every second of every day."
That startled her. She blinked at him.
"You do?"
"Of course I do," he said simply. "You think I'm not terrified of losing you? Or of losing Harry, or the others? You think I don't lie awake wondering if we'll all make it through this?"
Maria bit her lip.
"The trick is," he continued, his hand moving to clasp hers, "not letting the fear take away what's good. And we still have good things, Mary. We are a good thing."
A tear slipped down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb.
"You're my knight in shining armor, Remus," she murmured suddenly.
He blinked.
Maria sniffled, managing a weak smile.
"You always save me. Every time."
His lips twitched, but his eyes softened with something deeper.
"And yet," he said lightly, "you're the one who's stood beside me through everything. Maybe you're braver than you think."
Maria let out a breathless laugh.
"Now you're just trying to be poetic."
Remus smirked. "Did it work?"
She giggled, wiping at her face.
"Yes."
He grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Good. Now, let's get you something warm to drink, and maybe... just maybe you'll let me pick your shoes for tomorrow again."
Maria groaned.
"See? You are bossy!"
Remus chuckled, but his hand never let go of hers as he led her back to the warmth of the fire. Outside, the war still raged. But inside this house, in this moment, they held onto each other. And that was enough. For a while, at least. But as the hours stretched on and silence settled over Grimmauld Place, the weight of reality crept back in. Later that evening, as the world outside remained uncertain, dangerous, and ever-changing, Maria found herself struggling to breathe. The warmth of the fire had long faded, replaced by an unsettling chill that coiled in her chest.
The walls of Grimmauld Place, already oppressive with their dark wood and ancient magic, felt like they were closing in around her. The dim candlelight flickered, shadows stretching along the walls like whispering ghosts, and for the first time that night, she realized how heavy her chest felt. Too heavy. Her pulse was racing, a frantic drum against her ribs
She couldn't stop thinking. About what if she had changed more than she knew. About Harry, Ron, and Hermione. About what might happen if Death Eaters discovered their hideout. About what would happen if the war went the way she feared. What if they lost? What if she lost Remus? The thought was like ice down her spine, locking her in place, suffocating. Her breath hitched, a short, shallow gasp that didn't bring in enough air.
Too fast. You're breathing too fast.
Maria gripped the edge of the kitchen table, her knuckles white as she struggled to steady herself. The air felt too thick in her lungs, like she was trying to breathe through water, and a cold sweat broke out along the back of her neck. Her heart pounded wildly, her hands trembled, and the world tilted, just slightly, like she might fall even though she was standing still.
This wasn't new. She had always struggled with anxiety, even before the war. But this? This constant, looming fear of losing the people she loved, of being captured, of dying, was like fuel to the fire. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the thoughts away, but they swarmed her like relentless, buzzing insects. She was drowning in them.
A hand touched her shoulder.
"Mary?"
The voice was soft, but firm. Familiar. She gasped, jolting slightly as she turned. Remus. He was standing beside her, his brow furrowed, his sharp, perceptive gaze instantly taking in everything: the way she was gripping the table like it was the only thing keeping her upright, the unsteady rise and fall of her chest, the distant, overwhelmed look in her eyes.
Without hesitation, he pulled out a chair and gently guided her into it before kneeling in front of her.
"What's wrong?" His voice was low and careful, but not soft enough to let her brush him off.
Maria tried to shake her head, tried to swallow it all down, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them.
"I just... I can't stop thinking. About all of it. The war, the danger, what could happen to any of us at any moment." Her voice cracked, and she turned her head away in frustration. "It's stupid."
Remus reached up, gently tilting her chin back toward him, his touch warm against her cool skin.
"It's not stupid." His voice was firm but so, so kind. "It's terrifying. And it's alright to feel that way. I understand."
Maria let out a shaky breath, blinking hard as her vision blurred.
"You don't."
Remus huffed a quiet, almost amused laugh.
"Oh, love, I do. I feel scared every second of every day."
That startled her. She blinked at him, as if seeing him properly for the first time.
"You do?"
He held her gaze, serious now.
"Of course I do." He exhaled slowly, his fingers brushing over her knuckles before taking her trembling hands in his own. "You think I'm not terrified of losing you? Or of losing Harry, or the others? You think I don't lie awake at night, wondering if we'll all make it through this?"
Maria bit her lip, fingers tightening around his. His hands were warm, steady. And that steadiness grounded her.
"The trick is," he continued, voice steady as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, "not letting the fear take away what's good. And we still have good things, Mary. We are a good thing."
A tear slipped down her cheek. Remus reached up, brushing it away with his thumb before he could stop himself.
Maria inhaled sharply. Then, before she could think twice, she whispered,
"You're my knight in shining armor, Remus."
He blinked, clearly caught off guard.
Maria sniffled, managing a weak smile despite her tears.
"You always save me. Every time."
His lips twitched slightly, but his eyes, those warm, clever, tired, greenish-blue eyes, held something deeper.
"And yet," he murmured, "you're the one who's been standing beside me through everything. Maybe you're braver than you think."
Maria let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh.
"Now you're just trying to be poetic."
Remus smirked, the corners of his mouth tilting just slightly.
"Did it work?"
She giggled, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her jumper.
"Yes."
"Good." He grinned and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for just a second before pulling back. "Now, let's get you some tea, and maybe I'll let you pick your shoes for tomorrow this time."
Maria groaned, rolling her eyes.
"Bossy!"
Remus chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, but his hand never let go of hers as he led her back to the warmth of the fire. Outside, the war still raged, as merciless and relentless as ever. But inside this house, in this moment, they held onto each other. And that was enough.