The Stars and Forbidden Cigarettes | Professor Remus Lupin

The Beaver

Reverie looks at him and grins. "Come on, we still have one more place to go," she says, and she reaches to him and takes his hand in hers.

Oliver feels her warm skin against his own, her warm eyes on him, her soft smile in the starry light of their own village, and when she tugs on his hand, they begin running exhilaratingly, through the streets and around the corners. The wind dances through their hair, and no one comes out to stop them, and Reverie's face is brighter than he'd seen it in so long, and his heart is beating hard in his chest as they run out of Hogsmeade and into the park bordering the Black Lake that separates Hogsmeade from Hogwarts.

Reverie lets go of his hand and laughs, and Oliver runs a hand through his hair as he shakes his head, smiling.

"Someone had to have seen us," he says.

"Let them see!" Reverie exclaims into the sky, throwing her arms into the air and spinning around until she stumbles. She laughs a weak laugh as she regains her balance, and Oliver steps closer to steady her.

Oliver's smile fades, and his eyebrows furrow worriedly as he looks at her. "Rev, if something were wrong, you'd tell me, right?"

Reverie sighs weakly and puts a hand on his arm as she looks up at him. "Oliver, I'm fine."

Then, she turns and begins descending into the park by the lake, and Oliver has no choice but to follow her.

Reverie's pace slows, and they walk through the trees silently, the leaves under their shoes crunching as they walk. Oliver sees the gleam from the lake in the distance. Reverie looks down at Oliver's hand, warm and big and sturdy, and when she laces his fingers through hers, her chest feels warm. He looks over at Reverie, and his thumb gently draws circles against the back of her hand absentmindedly.

"I haven't come down here in years," she says, quietly. The tree trunks are thinning now, and he can see the silhouette of the castle reflecting in the water.

"Do you remember the first time we came down here?" Oliver asks. "You were with Penelope at Scrivenshaft's and very clearly hating it."

Reverie laughs. "I was not hating it. But when you walked by the window, I'd realised that I'd much rather be with you."

Oliver glances at her, his heart having skipped quite a few times now. "If I hadn't dragged you out of there with my marvelous story about a rare beaver by the lake, you and Pen might have still been the best of friends!"

Reverie smacks him playfully with her free hand. "I still don't get why you would think of beaver, out of every plausible interesting animal that might exist."

"Hey! It was the first thing I thought of," Oliver says, nudging her with his shoulder. "But I knew I couldn't have come up with anything better, after how much we laughed all the way down here."

Reverie smiles, and passing through the clearing between the trees, they step onto the bank of the lake. Reverie lets go of Oliver's hand as she walks ahead to the water. Crouching down, she takes the water into her hands and watches as it drips through her fingers, before she turns and walks back to Oliver, who had sat down on the ground, his hands resting on his knees. .

She sits down beside him and hugs her legs to her body. He's acutely aware of each place their bodies touch. Her arm brushes against his arm, her knee against his.

"Oliver?" Her voice breaks the silence.

He turns his head to look at her. If he were to move an inch, their noses would touch. The wind makes the lake lap at the shore. The leaves rustle above them.

"If I were to jump in the lake, would you come in after me?"

Oliver scans her face. "If you wanted me to."

The corners of Reverie's mouth tilt up. "If I were to run through this forest at night, would you run after me?"

Oliver laughs. "What are these questions?"

Reverie nudges him. "Just answer," she whispers playfully.

Oliver sighs. "I would most definitely run after you."

Reverie smiles. She looks away from him and rests her chin on the top of her knees, staring out across the lake, to the castle.

"If I ran away, would you look for me?"

She feels Oliver's eyes on the side of her face. After a moment, she turns her head to look back at him. His eyes move across her face, as if she hides the answer, but after a moment, he straightens. He glances at Reverie once more, before pulling out his wand and waving it expertly in the direction of the lake.

As the wand stills, a brilliant blue ball of light makes its way out of the tip, and both Reverie and Oliver watch as it spins and swirls its way out into the middle of the lake, blanketing everything around them in brighter light than Reverie had ever seen. 

But when the blue ball breaks, the light warps into the form of a beaver, and it runs through the air in circles and across the lake excitedly to Reverie before it bursts into thousands of shards of light at her feet and then disappears as if it never existed at all.

Reverie is breathing quickly now as she stares at the spot the beaver had just been in. Oliver is looking at her.

"Rev," he says, and she turns to look at him. "I would follow you anywhere."

Reverie's chest rises and falls quickly. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Oliver shakes his head. "You don't know the effect you have on people, Rev."

Her eyes briefly fall to his lips, but then the half moon comes out from hiding from behind the castle, and Reverie turns to look at it.

Reverie frowns. "Whenever I'm with you, I always feel so nostalgic for something we never had."

Oliver watches her collarbone move with each quick breath. The spot where their arms touch burns under his shirt. His eyes move up her face.

"Rev," he whispers. She looks down at her hands, before turning to look at him.

In the middle of this park, in the middle of the night, Oliver's hand comes up to her face slowly, and her eyes flutter as he strokes her cheek with his thumb, relishing in the way she looks at him, in the feeling of her skin beneath his fingertips. His eyes fall to her lips, and when she brings her hand up to the side of his neck, pulling him closer, his lips meet hers.

And Oliver's heart is pounding as Reverie kisses him back, and his hand moves into her hair, and Reverie doesn't let herself think about anything except his lips moving against hers and how warm and gentle and nice it feels. And when they separate, Reverie leans her forehead against Oliver's as they catch their breaths.

Reverie doesn't dare to speak, because she's terrified that she'll say something wrong, and because her mind is bursting with the things she'd not let herself think about all week. Oliver's kiss wasn't fiery, it didn't burn her, it didn't change her blood chemistry — but the words 'like Lupin's did' are etched across the back of her eyelids, and she's scared that Oliver can read them just as easily as she can, so she forces it out of her mind. 

Oliver pulls back his head and looks at her, gauging her reaction, and when she smiles the very smile that had made him putty in her hands so many years ago, his own grin slowly spreads across his face. 

She stands up beside him, brushes off the dirt from her pants, and extends out a hand for him to take.

He rises, and she begins to walk backwards into the forest, pulling him with her. "Do you feel any particular affinity for the woods, Mr. Wood?"

Oliver laughs. "Very funny."

"I really can't believe I've never made any joke about that before!" Reverie exclaims, laughingly.

"Mhm," he hums, as she turns forward and falls into step beside him, resting her head on his shoulder as they walk. Oliver can't help but feel like the old Reverie is slowly seeping back into her. Their kiss rests between them, silently, naturally, comfortably, warming them as they make their way together, through the moon-lit woods, away from the lake, and further into the night, and Reverie doesn't mind it at all.