Hey, Remus!

The firelight flickered against the worn walls of the safe house, casting long, restless shadows that danced in mocking cadence with the heavy silence. Remus sat slouched in the armchair nearest the hearth, a half-empty bottle of firewhisky clutched loosely in his hand. His tie hung askew, and his shirt was rumpled as though he hadn't bothered to dress himself properly in days. The room, despite the fire's desperate warmth, felt unnervingly cold... or perhaps that chill was a reflection of the turmoil inside him.
He took another long swig of the firewhisky, the sharp burn doing little to dull the ache in his chest. His mind was a storm of memories, swirling and relentless, all of them revolving around her. Maria.
Her laugh came to him first, clear as a bell and warm enough to melt even the thickest of walls he had built around his heart. He could almost hear it now, echoing in the quiet, teasing him. She always laughed with her whole being: her head thrown back, her brown eyes sparkling, a sound so full of life it was contagious.
"Stop it," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his graying hair.
But the memories wouldn't stop. Her scent, soft and comforting, like vanilla and lavender, always lingered in the air around her. How many times had he caught himself leaning just a little closer, breathing her in without realizing? How many nights had he fallen asleep beside her, her head on his chest, and felt like, for the first time in years, he had something... someone... worth holding on to?
He bit back a sob and took another swig. He thought of her clumsiness, the way she would trip over nothing at all and then look up at him, half-embarrassed, half-amused, as if daring him to laugh. And he always did. Not because he found it funny, but because he found her so endearing it was impossible not to.
"Bloody fool," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
The bottle trembled in his hand as he thought of her kisses. He'd never known someone so unselfish, so full of love, and he never understood why she chose to give it to him. Every kiss had been an affirmation, a promise that she saw something in him he couldn't see in himself. And now she was gone.
The firecrackled softly as he stared into the flames, his eyes hollow. He had seen her vanish in the chaos of battle, the flash of green light, the smoke, the bodies. He had called her name until his throat was raw, until he couldn't breathe anymore. But she never answered.
"Remus?"
The voice startled him, but he didn't look up. He didn't need to; he recognized it immediately.
Harry stood in the doorway, his face a mixture of concern and hesitation. The young man had seen enough grief to know when to tread lightly, but even he looked alarmed at the state of the man before him.
"Remus," Harry said again, stepping closer. "Are you... are you alright?"
Remus let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and broken.
"Am I alright?" he echoed, his voice dripping with self-loathing. "I'm perfectly splendid, Harry."
He raised the bottle in mock celebration before taking another long drink. Harry frowned, moving to sit on the worn couch across from him.
"You can talk to me, you know," he said quietly.
For a long moment, Remus said nothing. Then, finally, he exhaled shakily and set the bottle down on the floor, his hand lingering on it as if letting go would mean letting go of her, too.
"I thought I knew grief," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I had felt its full weight before. Losing my friends. Losing my family. Losing... myself." His voice cracked, and he paused, swallowing hard. "But this? Losing her? It's like... like a piece of me has been ripped out, Harry. And I don't know if I'll ever get it back."
Harry stayed silent, his green eyes watching Remus with quiet understanding.
"She was everything I didn't know I needed," Remus continued, his words tumbling out now, raw and unfiltered. "Her smile... her smile, Harry. It could light up the darkest room. Her humor, her kindness, the way she could make me believe, just for a moment, that maybe I wasn't as broken as I thought I was."
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that could stem the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
"I loved her before I even met her," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I read about her. I dreamed about her. She was safe that way. Fictional. Someone I could admire from afar, someone I could never hurt, someone who could never... leave."
He let out a shuddering breath, his eyes glistening.
"But then she appeared. Out of nowhere, like some impossible miracle. And she looked at me like I was someone worth saving. Like I was someone worth loving."
Harry leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
"You were worth loving, Remus. She knew that."
Remus shook his head, his jaw tightening.
"And now she's gone because of me. Because I couldn't protect her. Because I let her get too close."
"You don't know that," Harry said softly.
Remus laughed bitterly.
"Don't I? I saw her vanish, Harry. I saw the light, the smoke... the finality of it. She's gone. And I..." He trailed off, his voice breaking completely. "I don't know how to go on without her."
The fire crackled again, filling the heavy silence that followed. Harry watched him, his heart aching for the man before him but unsure of what to say.
Finally, Remus leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the flames.
"She told me once that I could have a good future. That all I had to do was survive the war." He let out a hollow laugh. "But what's the point of surviving if she's not here to share it with me?"
The cool night air clung to Maria as she stood outside the safe house, her parents hovering uncertainly behind her. She barely registered their murmurs of confusion. Her eyes were locked on the sturdy wooden door, her heart hammering against her ribs.
He's here, she thought, gripping the glowing book tightly to steady her trembling hands. Please, let him be here.
With a deep breath, Maria stepped forward and pushed open the door. It creaked softly, revealing a dimly lit room. The smell of firewhisky and the faint tang of ash hit her first. Then her eyes found him.
Remus was slouched in an armchair by the fire, his head tilted back, his weary face illuminated by the flickering flames. His graying hair looked disheveled, and his eyes were red-rimmed as he stared into the hearth. Across from him sat Harry, whose posture was tense, his concern for the man before him etched clearly on his young face.
"Remus," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.
His head snapped up at the sound, his eyes widening in disbelief as he turned toward her. For a moment, he just stared, as though his mind couldn't reconcile what he was seeing.
"Mary?" he breathed, his voice hoarse and broken.
Before he could move, she ran to him, crossing the room in a blur and throwing herself into his arms. Her momentum nearly toppled them both, but Remus caught her instinctively, his arms wrapping around her as though he never intended to let go.
"You're alive," she choked out, tears streaming down her face as she buried her head against his chest. "You're alive."
He held her tightly, his hands shaking as they clutched at her back, her hair, anything to convince himself that she was real.
"Mary..." His voice cracked, and he pulled back just enough to cup her face, his eyes scanning her as though she might disappear again. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought..."
"I thought I lost you too," she interrupted, her voice trembling. She reached up to touch his face, her fingers grazing his stubble and tracing the lines of his jaw. "I saw you fall, Remus, remember? In the battle. I thought you were gone."
He let out a shuddering breath, his forehead dropping to rest against hers.
"I was certain I'd never see you again," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "How...? How are you here?"
"I'll explain later," she promised, her hands framing his face as she looked into his eyes, her own brimming with tears. "But right now, I don't care. I'm here. You're here. That's all that matters."
A soft sound from across the room made them both turn. Harry stood awkwardly, his mouth slightly open in surprise as he looked between them.
"Mary?" Harry asked, his voice tentative, as if he wasn't sure he could trust his own eyes.
She managed a watery smile, her arms still wrapped around Remus.
"Hey, Harry," she said, her voice gentle.
Harry blinked, then broke into a wide grin.
"You're alive!" he exclaimed, relief flooding his features. "How...? When...?"
Remus tightened his hold on her as though afraid to let her go, his eyes never leaving her face.
"Harry," he said quietly, his tone a mixture of awe and disbelief, "she's alive."
Harry laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I can see that, Remus. But... how?"
Maria pulled back slightly from Remus's embrace, though her hands lingered on his arms.
"I dind't die. I was just pulled back. It's... a long story," she admitted, glancing at the still-glowing book in her hand. "One I'll have to explain in detail later. But the important thing is: I'm here."
Remus's lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, though his eyes were still glassy with unshed tears.
"You're here," he echoed, his voice soft and reverent. Then, with sudden urgency, he pulled her into another hug, his face pressed into her shoulder.
Maria let out a small, startled laugh, her hands finding their way into his hair as she held him close. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered, her own tears soaking into his shirt. "I'm here, Remus. I'm here."
From the corner of the room, Harry quietly stepped back, giving them a moment of privacy. His grin lingered as he watched them, his heart lightened by the unexpected reunion.
The room, the fire, and even the distant sounds of battle bore witness to their fragile reunion. In the aftermath of relentless chaos and pain, Maria and Remus found solace in each other's arms, a sanctuary where love, however battered, still burned bright. And though the war continued its relentless march, in that moment, the embers of their shared past and the promise of a tomorrow together shone like a beacon in the darkness.
After Maria had settled her parents and her cat comfortably in the safe house, a calm stillness returned. Remus sat slumped in the armchair by the hearth, clearly still a bit drunk. The half-empty bottle of firewhisky lay forgotten on a nearby table... he no longer clutched it for solace, for the shock of seeing Maria alive had already stopped his relentless drinking. Yet his greenish eyes, though bright with relief at her return, were clouded by the haze of alcohol, a rare state for a man who was normally so controlled.
Maria watched him with a mix of tender concern and a wry amusement. She knew that when he thought she was gone forever, he had lost himself to despair. Now, even though his laughter had faded into slurred murmurs and his jokes were more incoherent than usual, she resolved to help him find his footing again.
"Remus," she said firmly, stepping toward him with a playful glint in her eyes, "enough is enough." She gently patted his shoulder. "Go take a cold shower and have a proper cup of coffee. That firewhisky isn't doing you any favors right now." Her tone was both gentle and teasing, carrying a note of urgency. "Besides, you're making me worry. You're usually so self-controlled, you know that. I don't want you stumbling around like this when there's so much to celebrate. Specially not in front of my parents."
Remus managed a wry smile, the alcohol still softening his words, and nodded in agreement. With a reluctant sigh, he rose and made his way toward the bathroom. Maria watched him go, her heart lighter with hope that he would soon return to his steady, thoughtful self.
Remus grumbled, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"And what if I want to share the shower with you?" he slurred, his eyes momentarily brightening with mischief even in his inebriated state.
Maria rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
"When you're sober, then maybe we can talk about shower privileges. For now, you need to wake up and get cleaned up." She patted his shoulder lightly, her own laughter soft and musical in the quiet of the room.
Relenting with a mock sigh, Remus slowly stood, swaying a little as he made his way toward the door.
"Alright, alright," he mumbled, "I'll go... for your sake." As he left the room, Maria couldn't help but smile at the absurdity: a normally composed werewolf, now a stumbling mess on the verge of needing a cold shower and a strong dose of reality.
Moments later, Maria went to him with a steaming mug of coffee, the rich aroma of roasted beans filling the air.
"Drink this," she instructed, placing the cup on the table in front of Remus, who had wrapped a towel around his waist and was leaning against the bathroom door.
"Is that my coffee, or are you just trying to make me feel better?" Remus teased, though his voice was earnest beneath the playful banter.
"Both," she replied with a wink. "Now, go wash off that firewhisky. I want you back to your usual, brilliant self... Preferably without the extra liquor guts this time."
A few minutes later, the sound of running water echoed through the corridors. Maria leaned against the wall, listening to Remus grumbling and cursing under his breath as the cold water hit him, the shock of it snapping him toward sobriety. She could picture his face turning a shade of red that rivaled the fire outside, and despite herself, she laughed softly. The sound of his exasperated muttering and the occasional, resigned "Oh, for Merlin's sake..." made the moment almost tenderly comical.
When Remus finally emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and his skin flushed from the cold, he looked markedly more composed. His eyes, now clear and steady, met Maria's with a hint of playful reproach.
"So, did the cold shower work?" he asked, a half-smile playing on his lips.
Maria nodded, taking a cautious sip of his coffee before replying,
"It did. Now you're not a drunken mess, and I can't promise I'll share the shower with you until you're completely sober." Her tone was light, but there was warmth in every word.
Remus chuckled, rubbing his neck as if to smooth away the lingering remnants of his earlier despair. "
I'll be on my best behavior, I promise. I want to celebrate. Properly," he said softly. "I'm so happy you're still here, Mary. I never want to lose you again."
Her heart swelled at his words, and she moved closer to him, resting her hand gently on his cheek.
"And I'm not going anywhere, not this time." she whispered. "But, Remus, we have one more thing to deal with." She hesitated as a knock came at the door, and her eyes widened in sudden realization.
Her were there. They had settled in the safe house, and now, as Maria looked toward the door, she knew that celebrating their reunion meant sharing the house with them.
In the living room, her mother greeted the situation with a bemused smile.
"Maria, dear, this is all so surreal. I can't tell if I'm in a dream or if this is really happening." Her eyes danced with a mix of amusement and bewilderment, and she gave a little chuckle as she surveyed the room, taking in Remus's disheveled state and Maria's determined expression.
Her father, however, was less amused. He stood by the doorway, his face etched with shock and disbelief.
"This is insane," he muttered under his breath, convinced that this entire scenario was nothing more than a bizarre hallucination. "I must be dreaming."
Maria sighed, her heart heavy with both love and the weight of responsibility.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I know this is all too much." She glanced at Remus, who offered a gentle, understanding smile. "We'll explain everything in time, but for now, let's celebrate, if only for a moment, because we're still together, and that means there's hope."
Her mother stepped forward with a light laugh, her tone softening the tension. "Well, I suppose if you two are so determined to celebrate, you can let us have the proper bedroom for tonight. Just promise you won't hog the entire living room!" she teased.
Her father, still standing rigidly, simply shook his head in disbelief.
Remus squeezed Maria's hand gently.
"I promise we'll make sure you both are comfortable. Tonight, you have the bedroom all to yourselves, and we'll take the living room until I'm fully sober, and I intend to keep it that way. Then, when morning comes, we can have a proper celebration of our survival."
Maria looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears of relief and affection.
"I wouldn't want it any other way," she replied softly. "Tonight, we celebrate the fact that we're together, against all odds."
In that moment, with the gentle glow of the fire mingling with the soft murmurs of her parents' cautious laughter and the promise in Remus's eyes, Maria felt a fragile hope blossom within her. Even in a world torn apart by war, they would find moments to laugh, to love, and to rebuild the future, one sober, cherished moment at a time.
The next day, as dawn broke over the battered safe house, Remus and Maria prepared to leave with a determined heart. They would return to Grimmauld Place, a place of memories and love, to settle until Remus could find a job and they had saved enough to rent a modest home of their own. Despite the lingering dangers of the wizarding world, the promise of a future built together gave them strength.

NOTE: I was originally meant to end this story here with only an epilogue, and then to focus only on its supplementary details. Not exactly "outtakes" (as I usually cal them), but rather aspects/scenes I had intended to include and, for some reason, omitted. Now, however, I feel compelled to fill in those gaps. I simply cannot finish this story at the moment; I have grown too attached to it. So instead of offering merely an epilogue summarising what happened next, let us truly address what transpired.
I shall still continue working on the "outtakes", though. And I think Remus' POV must be the way to go. I feel that so many things were left out of this story simply because I was too eager to rush towards the events I was most excited to write. But I can't simply insert them into the version of the story that some readers have already encountered, can I? It wouldn't be fair to them.