Lily perches herself on the window ledge and stares longingly out at the moon hanging in the sky. She remembers when she was little and her mum used to tell her that the moon was a person and if you looked hard enough, you could see his face. She peers at the window tonight with that idea in her head, pressing her nose up against the cold, hard glass and imprinting the window pane into the creases of her face.
"Evans?"
Startled, she slides one of her legs off the ledge and turns around. She finds Remus standing there in these old raggedy flannel pajamas.
"Hiya there, Lupin," she greets him, beckoning him to come sit with her.
He joins her, ever so careful, his graceful limbs crossing over themselves to fit himself in besides her. He leans back on the window pane and glances over at Lily. "What's got you up so late?"
"Just thinking," she murmurs, turning sideways to look over at him.
"Penny for your thoughts?" He asks, polite as always, but she doesn't want to burden him.
"Nothing major, just some family stuff at home." She fingers the letter from her mum in her pocket, and thinks about showing it to Remus, but decides against it.
Remus nods in understanding, having heard the Evans' sister saga recounted in great detail before. "How's Petunia doing?" He always asks, knowing that Lily's usually got some story about her that she wants to get off her chest, but tonight she's quiet.
"She just got a new job as a secretary. Mum says she's happy about it," she offers.
"Well that's good," Remus says.
Lily smiles, knowing he knows that's not all, but that he won't push it any further.
A long silence stretches between the two of them, but it's not awkward, it never is. Their companionship comes from years of times like this. These conversations are simple, yet not so simple. They mold an easy camaraderie, allowing them to be comfortable in the other's presence with and without words.
Sometimes they'll talk into the wee hours of the night on this very ledge, sharing tales of misfortunate potions classes and never-ending detentions. Other times they'll confide in each other about their deepest fears, their greatest disappointments.
And in times like these, they'll simply sit, side-by-side, leg-to-leg in the waning moon's light, content.