Hi, everyone! Hope you're all having a great 2022 so far!

Just a quick note, I changed something in chapter 5. It was nothing big. Originally I had Liam not taking NEWT-level Potions but since then I decided on another career for him and he needs Potions to pursue it.

Also, I just want to point out that no, there will not be a Tristan/Hermione pairing. I do have a few things in store for them, but Hermione belongs with Ron, in my opinion they're very suited for each other.

Anyway — on with the story!

Urgent note: I made a mistake when I first published that I've just now noticed! Nora says Gryffindor is playing Hufflepuff but at this time they're still supposed to be playing Slytherin. It's only later that Slytherin asks for a change and Gryffindor plays Hufflepuff! So sorry, but it's corrected already!

Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban Timeline

"I Hold the Moon"

ooo

"The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space."

- Marilyn Monroe

CONFESSIONS OVER WINE

Nora had been acting, in Tristan's opinion, rather peculiarly. The changes were subtle, barely noticeable at all except to those who knew her well enough, but for the last week it seemed like every time he saw his sister in between classes she was always smiling. Not in the small, sort of sad way she usually smiled; it was much bigger and brighter than that. He couldn't think of anything in particular that might've caused Nora's unusual happiness. Nothing special had happened, and he hadn't heard any odd rumours either.

Tristan decided a little investigating was in order. Knowing Nora generally spent Thursday afternoon in the library while the twins had Alchemy, he went to her after class under the excuse of needing help with his Charms homework, which was due the next day. Normally, she would've given him an earful about being lazy and leaving everything to the last minute. This time, however, she agreed without batting an eye. Very, very suspicious.

"What happened that's made you so cheery?" Tristan asked when he heard her humming quietly under her breath.

"Nothing," Nora said with a warm smile as she revised his essay. "Can't I be in a good mood for a change?"

"Sure you can, but what's the reason?"

"No reason. I'm happy is all."

Tristan narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you."

Her smile turned amused. Nora studied him for a minute before reaching out and ruffling his hair. Tristan batted her hand away with a grunt, working furiously to fix his just-rolled-out-of-bed curls which actually required quite a bit of effort to put together in the morning.

"You can be very observant sometimes, can't you?"

"That's not an answer," he retaliated. Shaking her head, Nora went back to revising his essay. Fine, Tristan thought with a huff. "Well… whatever it is, I hope it lasts..."

And he sincerely meant that. There had been very few instances when he'd seen his sister genuinely happy. So he was glad. No matter the reason, even if she didn't share it with him.

The next day Tristan and his friends finished Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid, then headed out to Charms. Hermione wrestled with her bag the whole way to the third floor. Offering to carry some of the heavy load, Tristan told her about Nora's suggestion to place an Extendable Charm on their bags as it seemed the number of books had doubled overnight. That was yet another thing he had come to notice as of late — Hermione's mind-blowing ability to juggle her absurd schoolwork. It had taken Tristan a while to realise, but some of her elective classes were taught at exactly the same time as the ones she had with him, Harry and Ron, which made no sense because how could she possibly be in two places at once?

After they had all taken their seats, Professor Flitwick, who stood atop a tall pile of books behind his desk, started the lesson. They were learning the Seize and Pull Charm, a fairly handy spell that produced a magical, retractable cord of light which could be used to pull objects toward the caster.

"Keep in mind," said Flitwick in his squeaky voice, "the weight of whichever object you target will need to be factored in when you cast the charm. For example, if you're targeting a glass vase and you pull too hard, then you might end up knocking the vase against your heads. In order to prevent accidents, we shall be practising on these dummies I have brought along with me for today. Please split into pairs; you will each take turns casting the charm and attempting to pull the dummy toward you. And remember to execute your movements with precision — yes, Mr. Finnigan, this warning relates to you. I've had quite enough explosions for this week…"

Desks and chairs were cleared away to make space for the ugly-looking, battered dummies. As everyone scattered around the classroom, Tristan and Hermione settled in a corner not far from Harry and Ron.

"When are you gonna tell me what's been going on with you?" Tristan asked as he leaned against the wall twirling his wand while Hermione practiced the spell's movements.

"Nothing's been going on, must be your imagination."

"Could you maybe not insult my intelligence? We've been friends for three years, I think I know you well enough by now," Tristan replied with a click of his tongue. When she didn't answer, he sighed, "First Nora, now you… why doesn't anyone tell me anything anymore?"

Hermione lowered her wand to look at him. "Something's wrong with Nora?"

"Not wrong, no." Tristan crossed his arms, staring pensively at the ceiling. "She's acting weird, though… all smiley and happy and stuff. Not saying it's a bad thing, I just wish she'd tell me why. I hate secrets."

Pursing her lips, Hermione raised her wand, pointed it at the dummy, and uttered the incantation in a clear voice. At once, a red string of light shot from the tip of her wand and wrapped itself around the dummy's head. With a firm tug of her hand, the dummy swayed forward, sliding a few inches across the floor.

"Great work, Miss Granger!" Professor Flitwick squeaked merrily. "Five well-deserved points for Gryffindor!"

"Nicely done, Granger." Tristan put his hand up for a high-five. Chuckling, Hermione smacked his hand.

"Listen," she started, fumbling nervously with the golden chain around her neck, "I don't think you need to worry about Nora; she wouldn't keep something important from you. As for me… well, do you trust me?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Then trust I would tell you if I could."

Tristan mulled over her words, in the end deciding she was right. "So," he cocked his head to the side with a smirk, "you admit it — you do have a secret."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "C'mon, you give it a go now. You haven't done anything productive yet."

Sighing as though it pained him a great deal to move, Tristan stepped away from the wall. She immediately went about correcting his stance, fixing his grip and guiding him through the casting.

"Remember," Hermione positioned herself behind the dummy, "aim for the head."

He raised his wand and, keeping the advice in mind, chanted, "Carpe Retractum!"

The cord of light shot from the tip of Tristan's wand but instead of wrapping itself around the dummy's head like it had for Hermione, the cord went straight past it and hooked her around the waist. In a moment of panic, Tristan jerked his wand sideways and she came flying at him with a yelp. The two of them toppled to the floor in a tangled heap.

"I told you to aim for the head!"

"I did do that!"

"Apparently not! Don't move your—"

"Hermione, you're standing on—"

"Sorry!"

Somehow they managed to separate themselves. Tristan was pulling back when Hermione yelped again. A piece of her hair had gotten caught on his cuff button.

"Wait, you'll hurt yourself like that," he said when she tried to yank it off. "Stay still for a second, will you?"

Complying, Hermione sat back on her heels while he scooted closer and worked on freeing her hair from his button. It was really tangled, he thought, knitting his eyebrows in deep concentration. It probably didn't help that he was awfully clumsy when it came to delicate tasks.

Finally, with a bit of effort, the hair came loose. Tristan shook his wrist, grinning proudly, "All done!"

"T-Thanks," Hermione sputtered, bright scarlet in the face.

Professor Flitwick had barely finished dismissing class and she was already springing to her feet, gathering her bag and books in her arms and fleeing the room. Tristan could only sit there, puzzled.

"What the hell was that?" Ron asked hotly.

"Dunno," Tristan shrugged, getting off the floor and dusting his trousers, "she just ran off."

"Not that." Ron, whose ears were very red, took a step into Tristan's personal space. "You were all over her in class!"

"All over who?" Tristan stared at his friend as though he'd lost his mind. "You mean Hermione? We fell over, that's all. I was only helping with her hair."

"Seemed a bit more than helping from where I was standing!"

Before Tristan could get another word in, Ron stormed off, bumping his shoulder on the way out.

"Watch it, Ron!" Tristan snapped after him. Shaking his head, he turned to Harry for help, "What did I do?"

Harry shrugged, apparently just as clueless.

Nora woke up very late on Sunday, much later than she would've usually waken up. Lazily, she dragged her head from under her pillow and was momentarily disoriented when bright sunlight streaming through the windows slammed her right in the face.

Ophelia made her way over from the bottom of the bed and nudged her under the chin. Nora petted the affectionate cat, then sat up, stretching her arms with a big yawn. She felt incredible. No nightmares the whole night. No pounding headache. No queasy stomach. For once, she felt utterly replenished.

The room was empty, but there was note on the nightstand from Emma saying she would be spending the day with Liam and Julia on the Quidditch field and to meet them later if she felt like it. One quick look at the clock and Nora was shocked to see it was nearly lunchtime. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd slept past eight.

A sudden rapping on the window startled her. It was a small, brown-feathered barn owl, knocking on the glass.

"Hello," Nora cooed with a smile after letting the bird in. "What've you got there? Is it for me?"

The owl blinked her yellow eyes and stretched a leg to reveal a tiny roll of parchment attached to it. Nora gently pried the roll off and unraveled it.

If you'd still like to intrude on my work,

I've asked lunch to be sent to my office at around one.

My books and I will be waiting.

— Remus J. Lupin

Nora brushed his name with her fingertips, feeling excited and nervous all at once. She'd had serious doubts about someone like Professor Lupin wanting to spend time with her, but it turned out he did. He really, really did.

When she looked at the clock again, her excitement was replaced by a wave of panic. It was twelve thirty. She had half an hour to get ready.

Nora whipped to her feet so fast, she spooked the owl. Feathers flew everywhere as the frantic bird flapped its wings, and she wasted another five minutes running around the room trying to shoo it out the window before Ophelia decided to make a meal out of it. Afterwards, Nora took what was possibly the fastest shower in the history of showers, only to get sidetracked again upon realising she had no idea what to wear.

It was fifteen past one when she raced down the stairs to the common room, still tucking her blouse into the high waist of her skirt. On the way to the door, she passed by a pale-haired girl in an armchair with a magazine opened on her lap, bare feet dangling from the edge.

Her hand was on the doorknob, but Nora paused, doubled over. The girl noticed and looked up with dreamy smile, "Hello."

"Hi, Luna." Nora eyed the girl's bare feet. "Have your shoes gone missing again?"

Luna wiggled her toes. "Oh yes, it would seem so. But it's quite all right. I wasn't planning on going outside anyway."

Nora sighed, combing her fingers through her wet hair. They both knew Luna's shoes hadn't simply wandered off. Some of the other girls had stollen and hid them somewhere in the castle. They had pulled the same prank last year. Even though Nora had scolded the culprits several times, it seemed her lectures had fallen on deaf ears.

"Do you want me to help you look for them?" Nora offered kindly, despite her whole body shaking with anxiety because she was already late to meet Professor Lupin and if Luna did want help then she would be even more outrageously late.

"Maybe not today," said Luna, blinking her owlish eyes. "You look like you're on your way somewhere very important."

"Oh, err…" Nora felt her cheeks catch fire. "I am, sort of... but are you sure? I mean, it's my job to help you."

"I'm sure. Don't worry."

"Well..." Still debating with herself, Nora turned to leave. "If you really are sure…"

"You look very pretty by the way," Luna called after her, causing Nora to pause again. "Whoever he is, I bet he'll think so too."

Nora's blush spread all the way down her neck. "Thanks, Luna, but let's keep this a secret, okay? Just between us two."

"Of course," Luna beamed, "it's a promise."

By the time Nora burst through the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, it was nearly two o'clock. She held herself against the doorway catching her breath, however the room was disappointingly empty. Had he grown tired of waiting?

"Professor Lupin?" Nora called timidly, venturing further inside. Her stomach dropped when there was no answer. Of course he had grown tired of waiting, he had probably only invited her out of pity anyway...

As she was about to go, a door shimmered to form on the wall next to the desk. It opened not a second later and Professor Lupin poked his head out. He gave Nora a smile, stepping fully out. His clothes were much more casual than his typical work attire. Faded slacks hung off his narrow hips, and a dark green jumper fitted him nicely on his strong shoulders. The colour made his eyes sparkle.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd stood me up," Lupin said playfully.

"Sorry." Nora walked up to him while wriggling her hands anxiously. "I woke up right before getting your message. I came over as soon as I could."

"It's quite all right, I'm glad you made it." His smile was incredibly bright, she felt the warmth of it down to the very tips of her toes. Lupin motioned with his arm toward the door. "Would you like to come in?"

Curious, Nora stepped into what appeared to be a small living room. A wide window overlooking the Black Lake allowed plenty of natural light in. There were two tall bookstands against the wall and a couch in front of the fireplace, where a fire was lit. A coffee table had been set with plates and goblets. The delicious smell of food evoked a loud growl from Nora's belly as she hadn't had the chance to have breakfast.

There was another door to the side. She imagined it led to his sleeping quarters. Her heart skipped a beat. Thinking about Professor Lupin in his bed left her faintly lightheaded.

"You seem surprised." Bringing a hand to her back, Lupin steered her over to the couch. "You didn't think I lived in my office, did you?"

"Sort of," Nora smiled sheepishly. "I mean, I've never really thought about it before. I guess you wouldn't be very comfortable sleeping at your desk."

"I've fallen asleep at my desk a few times so I can vouch for that," he chuckled, sitting beside her on the couch.

Books were everywhere. Not only were the two bookstands against the wall stacked full, but plenty more were scattered around the room — in small piles on the floor; occupying the other single armchair; even over the mantelpiece. With a smile, Nora grabbed a very tattered old copy of David Copperfield from the coffee table.

"You weren't kidding about the books."

"Afraid not. And I have more at home, if you can believe that. It's becoming a bit of a problem. I seem to be running out place to put them..." Lupin reached for the goblets, passing her one. Nora took an inconspicuous sniff off it and scrunched her nose. He was quick to notice. "You don't like pumpkin juice."

It wasn't a question, but Nora shook her head. He seemed to consider something for a moment before reaching over the arm of the couch to grab a bottle of wine off the floor. Her eyes widened with surprise; that was unexpected.

"I can only let you have a little," Lupin warned. Covering her goblet with a hand, he made the juice disappear, then refilled it with wine. She tried to raise it to her lips, but he held the goblet back. "You've had wine before, haven't you? Otherwise I'd feel terribly guilty."

Nora blurted a laugh at how serious he looked, "Yes, I've had wine before. I might be Head Girl, but I'm not that prudish."

"I never thought you were. Did someone call you that?"

"I might've heard it once or twice." Nora tasted the wine, enjoying the rich oaky notes on her tongue and the familiar burn as the liquid trickled down her throat. "It's fine, though. I know I'm not like other girls my age. My friends have an ongoing joke about me being old-fashioned."

"There's nothing wrong with being old-fashioned. Quite the contrary in my opinion. But I suppose friends are all a bit like that, mine used to make fun of me too."

"Because you're old-fashioned?"

"Among other things," Lupin said with a lazy smile behind his goblet. "Anyway, you must be hungry. We should probably eat before the food gets cold."

It was Nora's first time sharing a meal with an older man alone. At first she was worried things might be awkward, but as it turns out there was no need to worry. Conversation flowed effortlessly between them while they ate. Midway through, Lupin pointed his wand at a record player sitting in the corner and smooth jazz began playing softly in the background. It prompted, of course, a lively debate about music, during which Nora was pleased to discover he had as good a taste in music as he did in books. He was cultured, witty and bright — brighter than anyone she had met before. She could spend hours listening to him without ever getting bored.

Despite his previous warning, Lupin refilled her goblet a second time. Her heels had come off at some point, and she had tucked her bare feet under her so she was facing him. He'd shifted toward her too, the edges of her knees grazed the outside of his thighs, intimately almost, however he didn't seem to mind it. Flames danced in the profound green of his eyes as he followed each and every movement of her hands. Wether it was the wine, the fire, or the way he wouldn't stop looking at her, Nora felt hot in places she always believed would forever stay cold, deep in her belly and at the very centre of her chest.

He truly was handsome, she thought, although not in a glaring, stops-you-dead-in-your-tracks kind of way. The charm, at least to her, was in the stories his face told, in those weathered scars and rough lines. In his quick smile, so sweet and kind, yet with just enough mischief to make one wonder what else he was hiding beneath the surface.

"Can I ask you something personal?"

Nora blinked, finding it extremely hard to focus on anything other than Lupin's tousled locks and how he kept running his fingers through them. "Yeah, sure," she managed to say.

He hesitated, casting his gaze to the side, then back to her. "When did it start?"

"When did what— oh." Nora frowned, suddenly grasping what he meant. "Oh, uh... after my mother died, I think…"

"You think?" Lupin pressed gently.

Nora stared at the fire to avoid his intense stare. Her pleasant buzz lifted slightly, and the room didn't feel quite as warm or cozy as it had a minute ago.

"Most of my early memories are a bit fuzzy," she finally summoned enough courage to say. "I barely remember mum… sometimes I'm not even sure if I do remember her or if I've created an image from the things everyone tells me..."

"How old were you?"

"Five."

"Five," Lupin repeated, disbelief and a sort of shocked disgust coating his voice. "You were five when your father started hurting you."

"He wasn't always violent," Nora explained. "At first he mostly pretended Tristan and I didn't exist. Our grandmother took care of us, if you could call it that. Servants saw to our basic needs while she mostly made sure we didn't grow up to become a public embarrassment by not knowing how to behave according to the family standards. It was around the time my Hogwarts letter came that my father realised he couldn't go on ignoring us anymore. It triggered something for him, I think. Memories, maybe. I don't know..."

The words poured from her like water. Nora couldn't seem to make them stop. She wanted to, but she couldn't. For once, her barriers weren't strong enough to hold it all back, or maybe she just wanted to let someone in for a change — let him in.

"I've always been easier to keep in check than Tristan. You've seen how he is; stubborn, brash, short-tempered… Father drinks a lot, usually to the point of passing out in his study, but sometimes he also drinks too much at a party and if Tristan does something he doesn't like then he tends to punish him for it once we get home. But me... me he simply likes to hurt. I remind him too much of my mother, you see. And since I can't remember much from when she was alive, I'm not really sure whether he hurt her too. If he takes pleasure out of it, or if he's just trying to punish her for something through me."

"Hogwarts was a blessing. I was so relieved to get away from him and that house... but in a way it was also awful because I was here and Tris was still back there. I could only imagine what Father was putting him through. To this day, I still don't know, he's never told me, changes the subject if I ask him so I stopped asking."

"We learned to stay out of the way over the years when we're home. I tend to divert Father's attention from Tristan, though it's not always easy because he really doesn't know when to shut his mouth. I swear that temper's going to get him killed one of these days..."

There was more. Much more. But Nora couldn't bare to tell Professor Lupin about the rest, about the sickening stench of alcohol on her neck, the rough hands grabbing her to the point of bruising her flesh, her back colliding harshly with the wall and sucking the air right out of her lungs when she tried to fight her father off.

Lupin suddenly slid to the edge of the couch, face buried in his hands. She studied his hunched form uncertainly. "Are you okay?"

"Am I…" He shook his head, rubbed his eyes with a shaky breath. "No, Nora, I'm not okay. Why didn't you ever tell anyone about this? Your teachers, or even Professor Dumbledore..."

Nora hugged her knees to her chest. "You don't know my family, they have strong ties to the Ministry and they aren't people you would want to mess with. There's nothing anyone can do. It does't matter now anyway. I'm leaving as soon as I graduate, and I'm taking Tris with me. I don't care what I have to do but he's not staying in that house another year."

Lupin reached out to touch her, however let his arm fall back at the last second. His hand clenched in a fist.

"I admire you, Nora," he said quietly. "Your courage and strength of character, the way you care for your brother... I wish there was something I could do to help you both..."

Tears swelled in her eyes, Nora had to blink them away. When she touched his tense fist, he gave a little jolt, but hesitantly, almost uncertainly, his hand opened to hold hers. She didn't say anything, and neither did he. Nothing could erase the bad things she'd had to live through. There were no words that could fix or make everything better, but it brought her comfort that he understood that. For her, his silence spoke loudly what words could never fully express.

For a long time there was only the crackling of fire and the piano still playing in the record player. Lupin sat back with a sigh, seeming to go deep into his thoughts, staring hard at the ceiling. His thumb brushed softly over her knuckles, making butterflies flutter in her stomach.

"Will you tell me something personal about you?" Nora asked. Lupin raised his eyebrows, head turning to her. "Fair is fair, isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right." Smiling tiredly, he squeezed her hand one more time before letting go. "What would you like to know?"

"What's your family like?"

"Well," Lupin started, draining what was left of the wine bottle into his goblet and drinking some, "I've never been very close with my father. I know he always did what he thought was best for me, but he could be very strict and distant at times. We're a bit better now we don't see each other as often. Distance really did wonders to our relationship, I guess."

"What about your mother?"

"My mum was wonderful… very kind and beautiful. We used to spend hours reading in the garden. When it rained we would sit by the window watching the rain fall and she would recite to me her favourite poems. She loved poetry and literature — a love, as you already know, she passed on to me."

His entire face lit up with sheer adoration when he spoke of his mother. It was very endearing.

"You remind me of her sometimes," Lupin said, only to cringe afterwards. "I don't mean to compare you to my mother, I only meant you remind me of her in that particular aspect. Christ, that sounded less disturbing in my head…"

Nora chuckled at the awkward way he stumbled with his words. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks faintly pink. So adorable, she thought.

"It wasn't disturbing," Nora argued with a smile, scooting closer to him. "It was sweet, really. Tell me more about you. Like... what's your favourite colour, your favourite tea, your favourite place in the world. Oh, and what does the J in your name stand for?"

Amused, Lupin crossed his foot over his knee and draped his arm over the back of the couch. "All right, let's see… my favourite colour's red, terribly obvious that one. My favourite tea is jasmine, and my favourite place in the world is Hogwarts, always has been. As for my middle name — it's John."

"So… Remus John Lupin?" His name rolled off her tongue like velvet, and the thrill of having addressed a teacher so informally sent Nora's pulse galloping. He seemed to grow a bit nervous too. The arm behind her head tensed and he swallowed loudly. "I like it."

He cleared his throat, taking another sip from his goblet, "Your turn, Evanora."

"Oh Merlin," Nora scrunched her nose, "please don't ever call me that. I have no idea what was going on in my mum's head."

"It's certainly unique," Lupin teased.

"Unique, he says," she muttered, boldly snatching the goblet from his hand. He raised his eyebrows but made no move to stop her from emptying it. "And my middle name's Briar. Can you imagine anything more unflattering?"

"I think it's very charming — Evanora Briar."

"I suppose it doesn't sound so bad when you say it…"

Professor Lupin gave no response other than a low, rumbling laugh that sent heat to her lower belly. It was the most wonderful sound, better than poetry, better than music.

"You owe me three more answers," he pointed out, raking his fingers though his hair. Nora brought a hand to her throat where her heart seemed to have lodged itself.

"Right," she said breathlessly, suddenly feeling very shy under the intensity of his gaze. "Well, I love green and the tea I like best is probably peppermint. Also, I have not one but two favourite places, Hogwarts and Granny Rose's house — she's Emma and Liam's grandmother. Sometimes they invite me over for Christmas."

Lupin made a contemplative sound, "I don't think Liam likes me very much."

"Liam's a complicated character, I wouldn't take it personally. He has a lot of defences so it isn't easy for people to approach him. It's probably why he doesn't have many friends, takes time and effort to push past his shields."

"I see. It's interesting that he's so different from his sister. Given they're twins, one would expect them to be a bit more identical."

"You have no idea," Nora chucked. She had heard people point that out far too many times now not to find it funny. "They're a bit like a cat and a dog, really. Emma being the dog, of course."

"Somehow that's not hard to picture," he shook his head, chuckling too. "Have you been friends for long?"

"Since first year. We met Julia later. She's not in your class though," Nora added more as a second thought to herself.

"I've noticed," Lupin teased good-naturedly. "Professor McGonagall likes to brag about Julia's exceptional skills as a Chaser in the staff room. But don't let her know I told you."

It was common knowledge around the castle that Professor McGonagall was an avid fan of Quidditch. Despite her efforts not to show any favouritism, everyone knew she was dying for Gryffindor to win the cup. Nora suspected that was one of the reasons she generally let Julia off the hook so often.

"You should come watch the next match," she suggested eagerly. "Gryffindor's playing Slytherin. Julia and Harry are practicing really hard for it, they're incredible. Especially Harry, the boy's a wonder on a broom. For someone who had never even heard of Quidditch before coming to Hogwarts, I swear he flies like a true professional."

A look of heart-aching sadness passed over Lupin's face, but it was gone so quickly she wondered if maybe she might've imagined it.

"I will try to make it," Lupin said vaguely with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He shifted forward slightly, vanishing all the empty plates from the coffee table, then stood up and walked over to the record player to change the record manually.

For someone so full of warmth, Nora thought, there was a certain kind of lonesome quality to him sometimes. She eyed him wistfully, wishing she could wrap her arms around his waist, bury her face in his broad back, and chase away his loneliness with affection, like he did for her with every smile and every single touch. When he turned, she looked away quickly, scared that he might be able to read her too easily if he saw her face.

Elvis Costello's deep and mellow voice replaced the slow-paced piano as Lupin made it back to his seat.

"This is a good one," he said, referring distractedly to the song, draping his arm over the back of the couch again. "You said your friends usually invite you over for Christmas. Will you be going this year? Or are you thinking of staying?"

"I can stay if you want me to."

Lupin blurted a very surprised laugh, staring at her as though he couldn't believe what he'd heard, "Would you really? Why?"

"Because," Nora shrugged airily, "I wouldn't want you to be alone for Christmas."

"Now I'll feel awful if you do stay." He shook his head, still looking mildly incredulous. "Truthfully, it's been a while since I've had anyone to spend Christmas with, but there's no need for you to stay on my account. I have the other teachers to keep me company."

Nora rolled her eyes, "Yes, I see your point, Professor Snape's such good company to have over the holidays."

"Speaking of Professor Snape, I've been meaning to ask you something. Why is he under the impression you've ransacked his private pantry?"

"Because I did."

Lupin chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes twinkling with mirth. "And why, pray tell, did you?"

"That's top secret," she replied with a cheeky grin. His laugh echoed loudly in the room.

"Is it now? Maybe I can guess, then. Something to do with brewing clandestine potions for your brother and the usual suspects perhaps?" Grin stuck to her face, Nora rested her head back, but didn't answer. Lupin laughed again, "You're a box full of surprises, Nora. Here I had you pegged for an exemplary student. Should I worry you might rob me next?"

"Don't know, professor, do you've something I might be inclined to rob?"

The arm behind her head moved.

"You should be careful when asking things like that." He swept a curl from her cheek, twirled it in his finger, then tucked it behind her ear. "The answer might not be what you expected to hear..."

Nora's heart faltered for the millionth time that day. They held each other's gaze for a long time — a lot longer than they should've, until Nora felt like she would melt into pure liquid under the heat of those deep eyes. When Professor Lupin spoke again, it was to steer the conversation toward much lighter, and safer, topics.

This chapter was maybe written and re-written more times than you can imagine, but I feel like I'm finally happy with it. Let me know what you guys think!