Hey, Remus!

Remus had chosen a quiet evening at Grimmauld Place for the proposal. The house was unusually peaceful, wrapped in the kind of stillness that was rare in a place so full of ghosts—both literal and metaphorical. Maria's parents were out for the evening, giving him and Maria a rare moment of solitude. It was just the two of them, the ever-present Kreacher, who was skulking about muttering insults under his breath, and Maria's cat, Nicky, who lay curled up on the armchair, his tail twitching idly as he no doubt plotted whatever mischief he could stir up next.
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a golden glow over the dimly lit room. Maria sat beside Remus on the old, worn-out sofa, her legs tucked beneath her as she flipped through a book on magical creatures. She looked radiant, though she would've laughed at him if he said so—her golden locks were a little wild, her socks were mismatched, and she was wearing one of his old sweaters that hung loosely on her frame. But to Remus, she had never looked more beautiful.
His heart pounded steadily in his chest, a quiet drumbeat of anticipation. This was it. This was the moment. His fingers curled around the small velvet box inside his pocket. It felt suddenly heavier than before, as if it carried all of the weight of what he wanted to say, of everything he had been through to get here, to have this—to have her. He took a steadying breath.
"Mary," he said softly, turning toward her.
"Hmm?" She hummed distractedly, still absorbed in her book.
He smiled. Typical. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the box, just as Nicky, who had been playing the role of a well-behaved feline up until that exact second, suddenly sprang to life. With the speed of a seasoned thief, the cat launched herself onto the coffee table, swiped at Remus's hand with a precise little paw, and sent the velvet box flying out of his grasp.
For a split second, time slowed. Remus could only watch in muted horror as the tiny box tumbled through the air, bounced off the armrest of the sofa, and landed perfectly within Nicky's waiting jaws. There was a beat of silence. And then—
"NICKY, NO!" Maria shrieked, bolting upright as the cat, clearly delighted with herself, dashed off at top speed toward the staircase.
Remus let out a slow, deeply resigned sigh.
"Of course," he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face before pushing himself to his feet.
Maria was already in pursuit, barefoot and laughing despite herself, her book abandoned on the floor.
"Get back here, you little menace!"
Remus followed, his long legs carrying him up the stairs two at a time. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. This was supposed to be a heartfelt, romantic moment—quiet, sincere, filled with whispered promises and love, not... whatever this was.
By the time they caught up with the little thief, Nicky had made herself comfortable on top of a high bookshelf, the velvet box clutched triumphantly in her mouth like a prized kill. He stared down at them with wide, unblinking green eyes, completely unbothered.
Maria, breathless from running (and from laughing far more than she should've been), turned to Remus, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with amusement.
"Are you... are you proposing to the cat?"
Remus folded his arms and tilted his head back, staring up at the feline culprit.
"Not intentionally," he said dryly. "Though at this rate, I might have better luck with her."
Maria let out a snort, still catching her breath. Despite the absurdity of the situation, warmth bloomed in her chest. Because this—this ridiculousness, this chasing after her cat in the middle of an otherwise romantic moment—was so them. Nothing in their relationship had ever followed the usual rules. Why should a proposal be any different?
Just as Remus reached for his wand, intending to summon the ring back before Nicky could get any ideas about batting it into some impossible-to-reach crevice, Kreacher stormed into the room like an ominous little thundercloud, his wrinkled face twisted in outrage.
"What is this?" the elf hissed, his voice dripping with disgust.
"A filthy Muggle engagement in the noble house of my master?"
Maria, still breathing hard, immediately turned her glare on him, hands on her hips.
"I'm not a Muggle," she snapped automatically.
Kreacher scoffed.
"The elf doesn't care! The elf does not approve of romantic nonsense defiling this sacred—"
And then, as if the universe had simply decided that this moment could not possibly get any worse, a shrill, piercing scream rang through the house.
Walburga Black's portrait had woken up.
"HALF-BLOODS! MUDBLOODS! WEREWOLF FILTH! HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THIS HOUSE WITH YOUR—"
Remus closed his eyes. Breathed in deeply. Counted to three. Then, very slowly, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Maria groaned, throwing her head back in frustration as Kreacher continued ranting and Walburga's shrieks bounced off the walls. Even Nicky, who had been thoroughly enjoying the chaos, flicked her tail and let out an annoyed mrrow before finally dropping the ring box onto the floor with an audible thud.
"Great," Maria sighed, bending down to scoop it up. "So that's one thing that's gone right tonight."
Remus shook his head, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. His fingers lingered there for a moment, tracing the curve of her jaw. She looked up at him, her expression softening.
"Maybe we should... try again later?" she suggested, giving him a small, lopsided smile.
Remus exhaled, his own lips quirking at the corners.
"Yes," he agreed. "Somewhere far, far away from talking portraits, judgmental house-elves, and your demon of a cat."
Maria smirked, looping her arms around his neck.
"You love her."
"I tolerate her," he corrected, resting his forehead against hers.
"Mm." She grinned. "You love her."
Remus huffed a quiet laugh.
"You are infuriating."
"I know." She kissed him, quick and sweet. "And yet, you're still trying to marry me."
Despite everything—the interruptions, the chaos, the completely failed proposal—Remus still felt his heart stutter at the thought. He let out a small, resigned chuckle.
"Yes," he murmured. "Yes, I am."
And he would try again. Even if it took a thousand more failed attempts, he would definitely try again.
Plan A had failed spectacularly. Spectacularly. So, naturally, Plan B had to be better. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was perfect. It was where Maria worked, a place she loved, filled with color and laughter. It was chaotic, yes, but in a way that suited them. And most importantly—there were no cats.
Remus walked through the front doors, his nerves thrumming under his skin, his fingers tightening around the small velvet box in his pocket. The shop was busy, filled with its usual explosion of colors, floating displays, and a constant symphony of laughter and general mayhem. Maria was behind the counter, chatting animatedly with Fred and George. She looked utterly at ease here, in her element, gesturing wildly as she explained something to the twins. Her dark curls bounced with every movement, her eyes bright with mischief, and Remus felt his heart stutter in his chest.
Right. Now or never.
He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and approached her.
"Mary," he started, reaching into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the ring box. "I wanted to ask—"
Before he could finish, a deafening explosion erupted behind them. Bright pink fireworks shot into the air, sizzling and crackling, before forming into giant, flashing letters that read:
REMUS LOVES MARY
Remus froze. His breath caught in his throat as he slowly turned to stare at the message written across the air like some neon declaration of doom. Fred and George, who were already doubled over with laughter, exchanged delighted grins.
"Oh dear," George gasped between cackles. "Did we ruin the moment?"
"We were only trying to help set the mood," Fred added with a wink, utterly unrepentant.
Remus inhaled deeply through his nose, his grip tightening ever so slightly on the ring box. Breathe, Lupin. Breathe.
Meanwhile, Maria—completely oblivious to his intentions—was laughing so hard she had to clutch the counter for support.
"Oh my God," she wheezed, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. "Remus, did you—did you plan this?"
Remus exhaled very, very slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"No," he said with as much patience as he could muster. "No, I did not."
Maria let out another peal of laughter, her whole body shaking.
"This is amazing—how did you guys time that so perfectly?" She turned to the twins, utterly delighted.
Fred slung an arm around her shoulders.
"We've got a sixth sense for these things."
"Some would call it divination," George added.
"Some would call it obnoxious," Remus muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple.
Fred shot him an absolutely wicked grin.
"You look awfully tense there, mate."
Remus slowly turned to look at him.
Fred took a small step back.
"Right. Sorry. Carry on."
Maria, still giggling, waved a hand at the flashing pink words in the air.
"Should we add fireworks to the wedding too? I think this is a fantastic touch."
Remus could feel the exact moment when the last shred of his carefully maintained composure started to fray. She still thought this was all a joke. She had no idea he was actually trying to propose. The fireworks continued to sparkle in the air, the words REMUS LOVES MARY flashing in obnoxiously large letters like the universe itself had decided to mock him. This was not how this was supposed to go. Maria grinned up at him, utterly oblivious.
"You're being awfully quiet, Wolfie."
Remus inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening.
"Yes, well," he said, his voice perfectly calm despite the twitch in his eye. "I find that when one's proposal is hijacked by giant, blinking fireworks, words tend to fail."
There was a beat of silence. Maria blinked. And then—
"Oh," she breathed, her eyes widening slightly. "Oh, no."
She stared at him, suddenly realizing what he had actually been trying to do before the twins—her favorite little agents of chaos—had thoroughly destroyed the moment. Remus gave her a look. She clapped a hand over her mouth. Fred and George both turned sharply to face him.
"Wait," Fred gasped, his grin widening.
"Were you actually—" George started.
Remus closed his eyes for a brief, dangerous moment before releasing another slow breath.
"Not anymore."
Maria doubled over with laughter again, absolutely beside herself. Fred gave a slow, admiring nod.
"Well, mate. If it makes you feel better, this was infinitely more entertaining than a standard proposal."
Remus turned his unimpressed stare on him. It did not make him feel better.
Maria, still giggling helplessly, reached for his hand.
"I'm so sorry," she choked out between breaths. "I swear, I had no idea—"
Remus sighed, though there was a reluctant softness in his gaze.
"I give up," he muttered, shaking his head. "I officially give up."
Maria bit her lip, trying to suppress another laugh.
"Oh, come on," she said, squeezing his hand. "Look on the bright side. At least it wasn't Nicky this time."
Remus just looked at her. And Maria—bless her—had the audacity to smirk. He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose again.
"Alright. We're done here."
Fred and George exchanged delighted glances before giving each other a celebratory high-five. Maria, meanwhile, tugged Remus a little closer, her amusement softening into something warmer.
"Hey," she murmured, squeezing his hand again. "For the record... whatever plan you've got next? It will work. No interruptions."
Remus huffed a quiet, skeptical laugh.
"Forgive me if I'm finding that difficult to believe at this point."
Maria just smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. Third time's the charm, after all. Assuming the universe didn't conspire against him again.
By the time Remus set up a quiet dinner at Grimmauld Place, having successfully arranged for Maria's parents to be occupied at The Burrow for the evening, he was beyond determined that this proposal was going to happen. No interruptions. No chaos. No bloody fireworks. He had asked Kreacher to prepare a simple meal—nothing extravagant, nothing complicated, and with very explicit instructions not to use anything experimental in the cooking.
"No strange ingredients," he had told the elf firmly. "Nothing magical, nothing that has a 'mysterious past' or 'unpredictable qualities.' Just a normal, non-threatening meal. Please."
Kreacher had scowled but begrudgingly agreed. Everything was finally going according to plan. The table was set with flickering candlelight, the atmosphere warm and intimate. Maria sat across from him, her chin resting in her hand, smiling in that way that made his heart stutter. She looked happy, utterly at ease, the golden glow of the candles catching in her dark eyes. This was it. Remus reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the velvet box. He took a breath, steadying himself. And then he lifted his glass of wine to take a sip.
The moment the liquid touched his tongue, something shifted inside him. A deep, instinctual pull took hold, spreading from his throat to his chest, forcing its way out before he could stop it—And suddenly, without warning, he let out a full-blown, wolfish howl.
The sound reverberated through the room, echoing off the walls. Maria froze. Remus clamped his hands over his mouth, his eyes wide in horror. A low, growly noise still rumbled deep in his throat, vibrating against his palms. Maria blinked. Slowly.
"Uh..." She tilted her head, trying to process what had just happened. "I—sorry—what?"
Remus groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as another involuntary growl rumbled out of him. He turned sharply toward Kreacher, who was standing in the doorway, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Kreacher," Remus said, voice rough and still vibrating with an unnatural growl. "What did you do?"
The house-elf sniffed, crossing his arms.
"The elf may have used a pinch of Moonflower Essence in Master Lupin's wine. It is good for digestion."
Remus howled again. This time, Maria absolutely lost it. She let out a loud, surprised snort before dissolving into full-body laughter, clutching her stomach as she doubled over.
"Oh my God—" she wheezed, struggling for breath. "Are—are you okay?!"
Remus just looked at her, exasperation clear in his tired, tired eyes. Maria, utterly incapable of containing herself, wiped at the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
"I—I just—" She took a deep breath, attempting to regain composure, but the second Remus opened his mouth and another deep, unintentional ruff escaped, she completely collapsed against the table in fresh peals of laughter. Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This proposal was officially cursed. Maria gasped for air, waving a hand as if that would somehow calm her down.
"I mean," she choked out between giggles, "I do like it when you howl in bed, but this is a little different."
Remus's mouth snapped shut. His face went completely blank. Kreacher made a disgusted gagging noise.
"The elf does not need to hear this filth."
Maria grinned wickedly, still trying to catch her breath.
"Well, I do," she quipped, waggling her eyebrows.
Remus ran a hand over his face, trying to fight back the heat creeping up his neck. Of course. Of course, this was what the night had turned into. Kreacher, looking even more offended than usual, stomped out of the room, muttering under his breath about improper behavior in the noble house of Black.
Maria leaned forward on her elbows, still grinning.
"You okay there, Rem?"
Remus dropped his head into his hands, letting out another groan.
"This was supposed to be romantic."
Maria bit her lip, still laughing but clearly softening now. She reached across the table, taking his hand in hers and giving it a warm squeeze.
"It is romantic," she murmured, her voice filled with amusement but also genuine affection. "It's also very on-brand for us."
Remus huffed a reluctant laugh against his palms. She wasn't wrong. With a heavy sigh, he lifted his head, giving her a look.
"I give up," he muttered for the second time that week.
Maria's smile turned softer, her fingers tightening around his.
"No," she said quietly, tilting her head. "Try again."
Her voice was warm, encouraging. And despite everything—despite the chaos, the laughter, the sheer ridiculousness of this whole cursed attempt—Remus felt something settle in his chest. He still had the ring. He still had her. And hell, maybe third time was the charm.
In the end, it happened when Remus least expected it. After all the meticulous planning, the failed grand gestures, and the sheer absurdity of his previous attempts, it turned out that fate—or perhaps just the universe's twisted sense of humor—had its own idea of how this was supposed to go.
They were walking through Diagon Alley late one evening, just the two of them. The street had mostly emptied out, the usual daytime bustle replaced by a peaceful quiet. The golden glow of the shop lanterns flickered along the cobblestones, casting soft shadows as they strolled. It had rained earlier, and the air still carried the fresh scent of petrichor, mingling with the distant aroma of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor closing up for the night. For once, there were no interruptions. No pranks. No mischievous cats. Just them.
Maria walked beside him, her arm looped casually through his, leaning into him as they wandered at a slow, easy pace. She sighed contentedly, squeezing his arm.
"You know," she mused, glancing up at him with a teasing smile, "for a war hero, you're kind of terrible at surprises."
Remus let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.
"I know. I was going to propose at least three times by now."
Maria stumbled slightly, her steps faltering for just a second. She turned to him, blinking.
"Oh."
That single syllable held so much—surprise, realization, and something else, something softer. Remus stopped walking. The moment settled between them, quiet and profound. The usual overthinking, the weight of expectations—none of it mattered anymore. The words slipped out naturally, without hesitation, without carefully laid-out plans.
"Mary," he said, taking both of her hands in his, his fingers brushing over her knuckles as if grounding himself in her touch. He inhaled deeply, steadying himself, though his heart was pounding harder than it had during any battle he had ever fought.
"I love you," he began, his voice quiet but firm, full of an unshakable sincerity. "You've changed my life in ways I never thought possible. You saved me. And I don't just mean that you saved my life—though you did, more times than I can count." He let out a soft, breathy chuckle, his thumb tracing slow circles against her skin. "I mean you actually saved me, Mary. You pulled me back from the edge when I didn't even realize how close I was to falling."
Maria's breath hitched, her dark eyes locked onto his, wide and full of emotion. She didn't speak, didn't interrupt with one of her usual teasing remarks. For once, she was completely still, as if afraid any movement might shatter the moment.
Remus swallowed, his voice growing even softer.
"Before you, I had stopped dreaming. Stopped believing that happiness could be possible for someone like me. I thought love was something that could only ever be a dream, something I'd always have to let go of." He shook his head, his grip tightening around hers. "But then you came into my life. And I couldn't keep my distance. It was too late. I was already smitten, even before I met you. And you saw me—the real me, even the parts I tried to hide—and you loved me anyway."
A deep, overwhelming warmth filled his chest, almost too much to contain.
"You made me believe again, Mary. In happiness. In a future. In myself. And I will spend the rest of my life being grateful to you for that."
Maria let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling slightly in his grasp. He took a step closer, his forehead nearly touching hers.
"I want to spend forever with you," he murmured. "Every laugh, every fight, every quiet moment in between—I want all of it. With you."
Then, with a breath of certainty, he asked:
"Will you marry me?"
Maria inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around his. For the first time in all of his attempts, she was completely silent. Her dark eyes shimmered in the soft light, searching his, her lips parted as if trying to find words. For once, the woman who always had a witty remark, who never failed to keep him on his toes, seemed utterly, beautifully stunned. Then, she exhaled a breathless laugh, her lips curving into a beaming, radiant smile.
"Yes, Wolfie. I will marry you."
Relief flooded through Remus so fast he almost went lightheaded. His own breath came out shakily, and he let out a quiet, incredulous chuckle as he slid the ring onto her finger, watching as it settled into place.
"Thank Merlin," he muttered under his breath.
Maria glanced down at the ring, admiring it for only a second before her mischievous gaze flicked back to him.
"You know," she teased, tilting her head, "if you'd just done it like this in the first place, you could have saved yourself a lot of trouble."
Remus groaned dramatically, already resigned to the lifetime of playful torment he had just signed up for.
"Remind me to propose to you in a public street the next time I make a life-altering decision."
Maria's laugh was light and full of affection as she threw her arms around him, pressing herself against him.
"Deal."
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, breathing her in. And as they kissed under the soft glow of the lanterns, with the quiet hum of the city around them, Remus realized that, despite all the chaos, the moment had turned out perfectly after all.