Hey, Remus! (Between The Pages Of Our Worlds)

The quiet that had settled over Grimmauld Place in the post-war days was punctuated by the sound of flapping wings outside. Remus and Maria were in the sitting room—Remus idly running his fingers over a small memento from the war, lost in thought, while Maria, half-reading a well-thumbed book, half-watching him with a fond smile. The air was light, carrying hints of laughter from the previous night's celebration at The Burrow.
Suddenly, an owl swooped in through the open window, landing gracefully on the mantelpiece. Its parchment was tied to its leg with a red ribbon. Maria's eyes lit up, and Remus looked up in curiosity.
"Another one?" Remus asked with a playful arch of his brow.
Maria quickly untied the note and read aloud,
"Kingsley Shacklebolt is officially Minister for Magic." Her voice trembled with excitement, and she couldn't help but let out a delighted laugh. "Yes! I knew it would happen!"
Remus's expression softened into a warm, relieved smile.
"Well, that certainly eases a few of our worries, doesn't it? Finally, some official recognition of what we've been anticipating all along." He paused, then added in a teasing tone, "Although, knowing you, Mary, I wouldn't be surprised if you inadvertently changed a few other things as well."
Maria feigned an offended look, crossing her arms playfully.
"Oh, come now, Remus. I only changed a few minor details! And besides, if it means a better future for us—and for werewolves—it's a small price to pay." Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Plus, it makes you even more of a war hero, doesn't it? Now you can go on to help integrate werewolves into society, secure better access to Wolfsbane potion, and all that."
Remus chuckled, shaking his head as he set the now-empty firewhisky bottle aside.
"You really do have a knack for altering timelines, don't you? But if it means I can help other werewolves—and I get to marry you once you have your official documents—then I suppose I can't complain."
Maria reached over, giving his lips a gentle kiss.
"I promise, when I get my identification sorted, we'll have a proper wedding. And I'll even let you keep your 'Wolfie' nickname," she teased, her voice soft and affectionate.
Remus grinned broadly, his eyes lighting up with genuine hope.
"Thank you, Spikey. I always imagined a future where the darkness of war was replaced by something brighter—something filled with love, laughter, and perhaps a little bit of chaos courtesy of you."
She laughed, the sound mingling with the quiet rustle of the owl as it settled back on the sill.
"Well, I'm nothing if not chaotic. But together, we'll make it work. I know this is the start of something wonderful."
For a moment, the room was filled with a comfortable silence—one that spoke of promises and new beginnings. Remus gazed at the Daily Prophet headline, his mind slowly easing from the lingering shadows of battle to the warmth of hope.
"Kingsley being Minister means we might finally get some official change," he murmured. "I can almost see a future where werewolves aren't second-class citizens."
Maria smiled, her eyes full of determination and gentle humor.
"And maybe even a future where I'm not the only one making extra changes—though I can't promise I won't add a twist or two. Who knows? Perhaps our next chapter will be even more surprising than this one."
Remus laughed softly.
"As long as I get to face it with you, I'm ready for any twist the future throws our way."
In that moment, as the owl's soft cooing blended with their quiet laughter and the promise of a better tomorrow, Maria and Remus felt the weight of the past begin to lift. The future was still uncertain, but now it shone with the light of hope, love, and a dash of delightful, unintended mischief—just the way they both liked it.
Later that week, as the gentle murmur of post-war recovery continued to echo through Grimmauld Place, Maria's world was about to change in a way she'd longed for. In a modest sitting room adorned with a few enchanted trinkets and faded portraits of the old order, Maria, her parents, and Remus awaited an important visitor. The atmosphere was a mix of anticipation and quiet nervousness—today, they would finally take a decisive step toward belonging in the Wizarding World.
A soft knock at the door broke the silence. Remus rose and opened it to reveal Kingsley Shacklebolt, standing in the doorway with his characteristic calm, authoritative smile. In one hand, he held a leather satchel, and in the other, a stack of official parchment documents that shimmered with the promise of a new beginning.
"Good afternoon," Kingsley greeted warmly. "I trust I'm not intruding?"
"Not at all," Maria replied, her voice tinged with excitement. "Please, come in."
Kingsley stepped inside, his presence instantly lending the room an air of formality mixed with hope. He exchanged polite nods with Maria's parents, whose eyes sparkled—her mother with unabashed delight, and her father with a hint of incredulity, as if he were still convinced he might be dreaming.
"Kingsley," Remus said, gesturing to a seat, "we've been expecting you."
Kingsley settled into a comfortable chair and produced the first document from his satchel.
"I am pleased to announce that, with my appointment as Minister for Magic now official, I can grant you, Maria Duarte—official documentation recognising your new identity as Mary Scamander." He held out the parchment toward her. "This document officially integrates you into our world."
Maria took the parchment with trembling hands, scanning its elegant script. A small smile broke across her face—a mixture of relief, pride, and a touch of disbelief.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Kingsley nodded.
"And not only you. I have prepared similar documents for your parents, to ensure they, too, can fully embrace their place in the Wizarding World." He looked kindly at her father, who shifted uncomfortably, then at her mother, who beamed with joy. "It is time, I believe, for every soul who has suffered to have their rightful place acknowledged."
Her mother reached out and squeezed Maria's hand in delight.
"Oh, Maria, it's simply marvelous! I always knew there was magic in our blood."
Her father, still skeptical, mumbled:
"When will I finally wake up from this?" even as his eyes betrayed a spark of wonder.
Kingsley continued:
"I understand that some of these changes might feel overwhelming. But rest assured—this is the beginning of a brighter future. With official documentation in hand, you can finally access all the rights and opportunities the Wizarding World has to offer." He glanced at Remus, adding, "And it is my sincere hope that, with time, we shall see significant reforms, especially concerning werewolf integration."
Remus offered a small, appreciative smile.
"That means more than words, Kingsley," he said quietly. "It means we're finally on our way."
Kingsley closed his satchel and stood.
"I'll leave you to finalise these arrangements. Congratulations, Mary... and to your parents as well. May this be the start of a new chapter filled with hope and opportunity." He paused, then turned his steady gaze toward Remus. "And Remus, I have further news. In recognition of your unwavering courage and service in these darkest days, you will be awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class."
Remus's eyes widened as the words sank in. Though he had long expected such recognition, the sudden enormity of it still overwhelmed him. For a moment, his usually composed demeanour faltered, and he struggled to gather his thoughts.
"Thank you, Kingsley," he murmured, his voice trembling with a mix of gratitude and disbelief. "I never imagined... I never thought I'd see the day when my efforts were honoured like this."
Kingsley offered a kind nod.
"Your bravery has lit the way for us all, Remus. Let this honour be a beacon of hope—that even after the darkest of times, valor and resilience can guide us towards a brighter future."
Remus swallowed hard, feeling both humbled and invigorated by the news. In that quiet space, amidst the soft murmur of post-war recovery, he allowed himself a rare moment of unguarded hope.
As Kingsley departed, the room seemed to hum with a newfound energy. Maria clutched her official documents tightly, marveling at both the weight and the wonder of this fresh start. Around her, her parents gathered in excited clusters, their voices overlapping with eager questions about the process and what the future might hold.
Even Remus—usually so stoic—allowed himself a rare moment of unguarded joy as he watched Maria transform from a hesitant fanfiction writer into a recognised member of the Wizarding World. But more than that, Maria's eyes shone with unmistakable pride as she looked at him. She had seen him endure countless hardships, and now, in this moment of official recognition, her heart swelled with admiration for his resilience and quiet heroism.
She thought back to all the times he had carried the weight of the war on his broad shoulders, his resolve never wavering even when despair threatened to overtake him. Now, here he was—humbled yet hopeful, recognized as a true champion of his people. Maria's pride in Remus was palpable; every detail of his determined expression, every subtle shift of his posture spoke of a man who had finally been given the acknowledgement he deserved.
In that moment, as the gentle buzz of recovery filled the room, Maria silently vowed that she would always be there to support him—celebrating every small victory and every step forward into a future where they both belonged.
Later that evening, after a modest dinner in Grimmauld Place had quieted into gentle murmurs and soft clatter of cutlery, Maria and Remus found a quiet corner for themselves. The official papers lay on the table, tangible symbols of their new beginning, while the soft glow of enchanted candles bathed the room in a warm, inviting light.
"Remus," Maria said softly, her eyes shining with hope and quiet pride, "I feel like I finally belong—not just as a fan, but as a part of this world."
Remus reached for her hand, his gaze tender and brimming with gratitude.
"And you always have, Mary—officially or otherwise. Today, you're not merely a character from my stories; you're real, and you're ours." His voice was gentle, but beneath it lay a current of overwhelming joy—not only was he relieved to see her, but the news of his impending Order of Merlin award had filled him with a sense of purpose he hadn't known in years.
Maria squeezed his hand, her smile growing wider.
"I'm so proud of you, Wolfie. I always knew you were a hero, but today you've become one in every sense. We're writing a new chapter—one where we're not only survivors of war but pioneers of a better future."
Remus's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he leaned closer, his voice low with emotion.
"I never thought I'd be recognised for all the years of struggle and loss," he admitted, pausing as if to savour the moment. "Being awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class... it means that somehow, all our suffering wasn't in vain. It gives me hope that our sacrifices can truly change things."
He trailed off, then added with a wry chuckle,
"Although, I must say, I never imagined receiving an award that sounds like it belongs to a wizard superhero. I half expected to see a cape attached to it!"
Maria burst into gentle laughter, resting her head on his shoulder. "You do have your wozard robes, don't you? Oh, come off it, Remus. You've always had a flair for the dramatic. I can just picture you now—'The Howling Hero' with a cape billowing behind you as you rescue kittens and perform heroic feats."
Remus smirked, shaking his head.
"I suppose if I ever do get a cape, you'll have to be my sidekick, won't you?" he teased. "Maybe 'Spikey'—the unstoppable hedgehog heroine, always ready to save the day with her prickly charm."
Maria playfully rolled her eyes.
"For your information, I quite like that you call me Spikey, actually. And it does suit me—after all, who else could keep up with a wolf like you?"
They both laughed, the sound mingling with the soft clatter of distant voices and the gentle hum of a world healing. Maria's laughter was light, its warmth a balm to Remus's still-tender soul.
"It's incredible, isn't it?" she continued, her tone softening into sincere affection. "Even amidst scars and sadness, there's always room for a little joy. And I'll be here, cheering you on every step of the way—even if it means occasionally teasing you about your superhero award."
Remus squeezed her hand, a playful glint in his eyes.
"You know, Mary—Spikey—I wouldn't have it any other way. I promise to keep fighting for a better future, and I promise to never stop being the stubborn, hopelessly sentimental wolf you fell in love with."
Their laughter and gentle banter filled the space, weaving a tapestry of hope and humour. In that moment, as the official documents lay as a testament to their hard-won change, Remus and Maria clung to each other—a pair of unlikely heroes determined to make even the scars of war sparkle with the light of their shared joy.
Their laughter mingled with the soft symphony of clinking cups and murmured conversations from the adjoining rooms. In that intimate space, amid the tangible promise of official recognition and the intangible glow of enduring love, Maria and Remus knew that although the scars of the past might never fully fade, a hopeful future was unfolding. Together, they would shape this new chapter—one cherished, official moment at a time.
And as the night deepened, the safe house filled with a quiet optimism—a promise that even after the darkest of wars, life could bloom once more with laughter, love, and the indomitable spirit of those brave enough to hope.

*

The moment had to be perfect. Remus Lupin had spent years enduring war, heartbreak, and transformations that turned his very existence into a series of battles—both physical and emotional. He had lived in the shadows, convinced that happiness was a luxury meant for others, not for someone like him. But then, against all odds, Maria had crashed into his life like a particularly enthusiastic Bludger, refusing to let him wallow in his own self-doubt. She had loved him fiercely, unconditionally, and—perhaps most baffling of all—without hesitation.
Now, finally, the war was over. They were safe. And for the first time in his life, happiness wasn't just a fragile dream dangling just out of reach—it was real. It was laughter-filled mornings at Grimmauld Place, stolen kisses between stacks of prank products at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and the way Maria looked at him like he was the best thing in the entire wizarding world, despite the fact that he still occasionally woke up with his hair looking like he'd lost a fight with an angry nest of Cornish Pixies. And he was going to make it official.
The ring had belonged to his mother, Hope Lupin—a modest but elegant band with an enchanted moonstone that shimmered like liquid silver, reflecting the light in a way that reminded him of how Maria's eyes sparkled when she was up to something mischievous. He had spent hours agonizing over what to say, mentally composing and recomposing his speech, discarding anything that felt too formal, too rehearsed, or just plain ridiculous. He was ready. Or at least, he thought he was. Because what he didn't have, despite all his meticulous planning, was luck. And as he was about to find out, luck was a rather crucial ingredient in successfully proposing to the most unpredictable woman he had ever met.