Y/n Cordelia Granger lived a happy but simple life in the suburbs of London with her parents and younger sister, Hermione, until her 11th birthday. As the day's sun beamed overhead, the young girl was covered in its light that glimmered with the pro...
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"I'm so tired." Y/n murmured to no one in particular while letting her head fall onto the pile of books she'd collected.
She was in the library accompanied only by the empty space of where someone could've sat and deafening silence as it rang in her ears loudly. Her eyes threatened to close under the weight of her eyelids that had started to feel like they were lined by bricks.
She'd been sitting in the same seat for hours meticulously combing through Wizarding and Muggle court records and texts searching for answers to a question that didn't seem to have any. What happened on Grimmauld's Place on October 31st, 1981? And where did Sirius Black slot into it all?
Y/n's muscles ached every time she moved, creaking like a wrought iron gate that hadn't been attended to in decades. But the more she looked the more questions she had and sleep began to fray at the edges of her sharp mind. Her carefully glossed lips stuck to the pages and she startled herself awake with a quiet snore murmuring from her parted mouth.
"Hmmwha-?" She sleepily muttered as she was stricken back into a straight up position, the speed of her movement knocking her chair's legs into the ground harshly and making a nearby book fall off its shelf.
Y/n rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stepped closer, picking up the book and turning it over in her hands. The book that had fallen over upon closer inspection was the same yearbook she had been looking at weeks ago. Just like before, there was the photo of a young Remus Lupin dressed like David Bowie on Halloween 1977.
She felt a tug at the corners of her lips as a small smile bloomed on her face like a daffodil under the mid February sun. What was the harm in taking a little break from her research? Y/n decided it would be good for her and so her nimble fingers slipped under the thin glossy paper and flipped to the next page.
Once again, a young Remus Lupin stood in the dim fire bright lighting of the Gryffindor common room with a red and blue lightning bolt painted across his face. The face paint overlapped with a jagged scar cutting across his nose at some points, but in some odd way it blended together beautifully. In this photo, his lips were pressed together tightly in a smile that at first glance may have looked meek or forced even, but the gleam in his eyes that even the camera could capture revealed was ecstatic.
But as she stared at it she noticed something peculiar. Unlike the other page, this photo moved. Magic truly never failed to astound Y/n Granger. However, the scene that took place in the photo quickly proved to be even more magical.
The young Remus Lupin wasn't alone.
A boy with long silky black hair that fell just above his shoulders in gentle waves twirled into the photo with an air of confidence that bordered on narcissism as the young Remus placed his hand on the small of his back. His lips curled up into a smirk that screamed trouble. He wore a white tank top and tight fitting light blue denim jeans that didn't leave much to the imagination and were looped together by a studded black belt. The shades on his face and fake thick mustache completed the look and hid no doubt a mischievous look in his eyes.
