yellow (remus lupin.)

twenty three.

TWENTY THREE.

Knowing that Peter Pettigrew was still alive — nevermind being in bed with Ron Weasley — was keeping Remus up at night. He had virtually no one to turn to for help, and he found himself longing for James Potter to be around once again. He just wanted a friendly face to tell him he wasn't going insane.

Lying in his bed — still recovering from the February full moon just days ago — he found his hand reaching for the photo album he had been gifted for Christmas. In a few spare moments he had to himself over the past two months, he had found the time to sort and organise some of his photos like Cara suggested.

The best section by far was that of his years at Hogwarts, specifically the summers between. There were hundreds of photos of him, James, Sirius, Peter and Lily, all in a variety of states of happiness.

Peter was the shy one in the background, whilst Sirius and James took centre stage with their bravado and troublemaking. Remus was always just behind them, pretending to be reluctant to join the mischief so that he could avoid punishment, but nevertheless ended up roped in. Lily watched it all from the sidelines, continually rejecting James like it was a hobby. There wasn't a thing he wouldn't give just to laugh with them one last time.

There was one particular one of Sirius and himself that he was constantly drawn to. Sirius had him in a headlock, grinning from ear to ear as they both stared down the lens of the camera. Sirius and Cara both had the same distinctive smile, one that was laced with naughtiness, almost as if they knew something about you that you didn't.

They had the same eyes too, ones that he adored for so many different reasons. Sirius's eyes were the ones he used to trust, the ones he used to gaze into and make promises with. Cara's were the ones he looked at filled with love. He noted how both of theirs changed shade as the light hit them, sometimes appearing blue or green. He was also shocked at how it was only know he was noting just how close they looked.

Snapping him out of his trance was the sound of his bedroom door flinging open. In the doorway was Cara — her uniform in its classic state of unkempt yet stylish chic — armed with a bowl of eton mess.

"You skipped dinner you twat." She handed him the food as he pushed the book aside and made room for her to perch on the sheets.

"You're an angel." He spoke weakly, having not seen anyone in days.

Rather than sit on his covers, she kicked her shoes off and clambered under the covers. She wrapped her arms around his wounded chest and rested her head on his chest as he tucked into the food quietly.

It was a moment of solitude she had craved for weeks. She adored Anastasia to the point it hurt, but she couldn't help but feel jealous at how she could kiss Oliver in public and face no consequences. Seeing them brush hands, catch each other by the waist or embrace lovingly was too much for Cara, so she had escaped to her safe space for a while.

She felt him flinch as she traced a drawing absentmindedly on his warm skin, just underneath a bandage. She was so desperately curious to understand what hurt him so much, but she felt it was too personal to ask. She had trusted him to tell her when he was ready, but she was growing increasingly impatient and concerned.

"Remus?" She whispered, looking up at his worn and loved face as he placed the bowl to the side. "Are you okay?"

"Better for seeing you and having something to eat." He hummed, his fingers laced into her hair as he played with the loose strands.

"You know what I'm trying to say. You're always hurt, and I don't like seeing you in pain." She admitted.

Remus felt like he was about to vomit out the truth, and it took all of his strength to hold the words back. Seeing worry etched onto the usually laughing face he was so in love with broke his heart, but he reminded himself he was keeping it from her to protect her. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her.

"Do you have it marked on your calendar? Every eighteenth day of the month I, Remus John Lupin, must throw myself down some stairs." Cara smirked, holding back laughter as she kissed his chest muscle.

"Well fuck me, aren't you the joker today." He sneered, instantly infected by her smile.

Leaning up, she kissed his lips gently, greeted instantly by the sweet taste of strawberries. His thumb grazed the back of her head lazily as he kissed her back, having the burden of his stresses relieved by her touch.

"I won't pry any further I promise, but you know I love you." She whispered on his lips between kisses. "I love all of you, flaws and all."

"I don't deserve you." He mumbled, pulling her into one more kiss.

Cara stayed in with him as long as she could possibly bend the rules for, before he finally kicked her out — albeit it incredibly reluctantly. He assured her he would be fine, and for the first time in years he was forced to partake in a pinky promise. The last time he had sworn his life down to the famed pinky promise was when he and Sirius began selling cigarettes out of a suitcase in their seventh year like roaring twenties mobsters. They both agreed to take the flack for the crime if they were discovered, and to face the consequences together. It was nice to see the tradition had been unwittingly carried down a generation.

On her late night walk back to the Gryffindor tower, Cara found herself gazing out of the windows. Her eyes were locked on a shadow she could see by the edge of the woods. If she didn't know any better, she could've sworn it was a dog.

Reaching the tower, she headed straight for her dorm, finding Stassie and Oliver giggling under the bed clothes. Unphased and uninterested, Cara ran to the window by her bed and perched in the window sill, watching the movements of the shadow.

She was correct, it was in fact a dog. It was large, black, and had shaggy fur. The poor thing looked malnourished beyond belief, as if it hadn't seen civilisation in years. It sat staring at the school, just watching as students passed by the windows just as she had done minutes earlier.

"Stass? Ollie?" She called them over as her eyes remained watching the dog.

As if on cue, the dog disappeared down the trunk of the whomping willow.

"You alright Cara?" Oliver's thick scottish accent spoke to her, finally detaching his mouth from his girlfriend's. "Look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine." She pulled herself away from the window and slapped a smile on her face. "Nervous. Test results tomorrow."

"Oh don't worry." Oliver grinned at her mischievously. "I'm sure Lupin can come up with some ways to get your grade up if you don't get what you want."

"Anastasia Diane Carraway!" Cara screamed at her friend, who emerged from under the covers both flustered and sheepish. "You dozy mare!"

"I'm sorry, it just fell out!"

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a/n: thank you endlessly for 9k!! x