Chapter 7: The Kitchen of Grimmauld Place Chapter Text
The kitchen table was cluttered with maps, parchment, and half-drunk cups of tea. The Order members sat in varying states of exhaustion, listening to Moody's gruff voice as he outlined the latest intelligence.
"… and remember, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody barked, slamming his hand on the table for emphasis.
Maria, sitting between Remus and Sirius, tried not to roll her eyes. She respected Moody, of course, but his relentless paranoia sometimes made it hard to keep a straight face.
Sirius leaned over, whispering,
"Bet you a Galleon he says it at least three more times before this meeting's done."
Maria smirked.
"I'm not taking that bet. Too easy."
Moody's magical eye swiveled toward them.
"Something to add, Black? Or you, Miss Scamander?"
Caught off guard, Maria blinked.
"Oh. Um… actually, yes. I was thinking…"
The room fell silent. All eyes turned to her, curious.
"Well," Maria began hesitantly, "I was just wondering… do you ever use Muggle tactics? Disguises? Non-magical tools? Things that Death Eaters wouldn't expect?"
There was a pause. Moody's real eye narrowed.
"We're wizards, lady. We use magic."
"Yes, but… don't you think that's exactly what they expect?" Maria leaned forward, her enthusiasm growing. "Death Eaters are probably on the lookout for spells and enchantments. But if you show up in a disguise—say, dressed as a Muggle delivery person—they wouldn't see that coming."
Sirius grinned, clearly entertained.
"I like it. Imagine Bellatrix's face if she got a knock at the door and it's just someone delivering a pizza."
Remus chuckled.
"It would certainly be unexpected."
Moody, however, remained skeptical.
"Disguises and non-magical tools? Sounds like nonsense."
Maria shrugged.
"Not necessarily. Sometimes the simplest solutions are the most effective. Take this—" She pulled a small Muggle object from her pocket.
"What's that?" Tonks asked, leaning in with curiosity.
"It's called a distraction device," Maria explained, holding up a small item that looked like a whistle. "Muggle kids use it for pranks. But it's really handy in a tight spot. You pull the pin, throw it, and it makes a loud bang and a flash of light. No magic needed."
Moody's magical eye swiveled to the device, then back to Maria.
"Sounds like a toy."
"It is a toy," Maria said. "But it works. Imagine you're cornered by Death Eaters. You toss this their way, and while they're disoriented, you make your move."
The room murmured in interest.
"Does it work?"
Kingsley asked, his deep voice thoughtful.
Maria nodded.
"I've used it myself in a class. It saved my life."
Moody grunted, clearly unimpressed.
"Constant vigilance doesn't mean constant nonsense."
Maria smiled sweetly.
"No, but it does mean keeping an open mind."
Sirius burst out laughing.
"She's got you there, Mad-Eye."
Tonks leaned over to Maria.
"Can I try it?"
Maria handed over the device with a grin.
"Just don't pull the pin unless you're ready."
Moody muttered something under his breath, clearly disgruntled. But as he shuffled his parchments, he growled,
"We'll give it a try. But if anyone gets blown up, you'll answer for it."
Maria's grin widened.
"Deal."
As the meeting wrapped up, Sirius clapped her on the back.
"You're shaking things up around here."
Remus gave her a warm smile.
"Well done, Mary. That's exactly what we need—new perspectives."
Moody, as he left the room, couldn't resist one last growl. "Still think it's nonsense."
But as the door closed behind him, Maria caught the faintest twitch of his lips. He'd never admit it, but he was intrigued.
Sirius leaned in with a conspiratorial smirk. "That's the closest thing to a compliment you'll ever get from Mad-Eye."
Maria laughed. "I'll take it."
It had been almost two weeks since Maria had appeared in number 12 Grimmauld Place. Two weeks of navigating a world she never thought she'd set foot in—a world she once loved from a distance but now found herself fully immersed in. And as surreal as it all was, nothing made her heart race more than being in the same room as Remus Lupin.
The kitchen was dimly lit, the flicker of a single candle casting long shadows across the worn wooden table. The scent of old wood and faint traces of burnt toast lingered in the air, mingling with the soothing aroma of the tea Maria cradled in her hands. The warmth of the mug seeped into her palms, grounding her, as her thoughts swirled like the steam rising from the tea.
Remus sat across from her, his posture relaxed yet alert, a subtle tension in his shoulders that never fully disappeared. His eyes, tired but kind, watched her with quiet curiosity. The silence between them wasn't awkward, but it was heavy—filled with unspoken words neither of them had yet dared to say.
Maria glanced up, catching his gaze for a fleeting moment before quickly looking away. The intensity in his eyes made her chest tighten, and she wasn't quite sure if it was nerves or something else entirely. She took a sip of her tea, letting the warmth calm her racing thoughts.
"Feels strange, doesn't it?"
Remus finally broke the silence, his voice low and gentle. It carried across the room, cutting through the quiet like a soft breeze stirring still air.
Maria let out a shaky laugh.
"Strange doesn't even begin to cover it." She set the mug down on the table and traced the rim with her finger, her mind reaching for words that never seemed to come out quite right. "I mean… I thought you were fictional."
Remus tilted his head, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"And I thought you were some unattainable dream—a story in a book."
The words hung between them, and Maria's heart skipped a beat. There was something disarming about the way he said it—not as a line, not as flattery, but as an honest confession. It was as if he couldn't quite believe she was here, sitting in front of him.
Their eyes met again, this time lingering. The silence stretched out, heavy and charged. Maria swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths as she tried to make sense of what she was feeling.
"It's funny," she murmured, breaking the tension. Her voice was soft, contemplative. "Liking someone you think isn't real… it feels safe. You can imagine things that will never happen. But this…" She waved a hand between them, her movements slow and deliberate. "This is terrifying."
Remus leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. His gaze never wavered, and in the dim light, his eyes seemed to hold an endless depth.
"Because it's real."
Maria nodded.
"Exactly."
The admission sat heavily between them. There was a vulnerability in her words—a quiet confession that neither of them was quite ready to confront. But it was there, hanging in the air, undeniable.
Remus's lips curved into a faint smile.
"I suppose there's comfort in the distance of fiction. No risk. No consequences."
"Exactly," Maria said again, her fingers curling into the fabric of her jumper. "You can imagine the perfect version of someone without worrying about all the messy bits that come with reality."
"And now?" Remus's voice softened, a hint of something more—something hopeful—lurking beneath the question.
Maria hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest.
"And now… I don't know what to do with it."
Remus chuckled again, the sound low and warm.
"You're not alone in that."
The tension eased, replaced by a tentative warmth. Maria found herself smiling, the corners of her mouth tugging upward despite the nervous flutter in her chest.
"Can I be honest?" Remus asked, his voice quieter now.
"Please do." Maria folded her hands in her lap, leaning slightly closer.
Remus's gaze flickered to the table for a moment before meeting hers again.
"I never thought I'd feel this way. I never let myself believe I could."
Maria's breath hitched, her throat tightening.
"Because of… your condition?"
He nodded.
"It complicates things."
"I don't care," Maria said, her voice firm. "I know who you are."
Remus's brow furrowed slightly. "But do you? You've read about me, sure. But the real me—the flawed, tired werewolf sitting in front of you—might not live up to whatever version you imagined."
Maria laughed softly, shaking her head.
"Trust me, Remus. The real you is much better than anything I could have imagined."
The words hung between them, raw and sincere. Remus looked at her, something unspoken passing through his gaze.
"Why me?" he asked, almost to himself. "I'll never understand why anyone would choose this."
Maria's expression softened, her voice tender.
"Because you're worth it. You always have been."
Remus looked down, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.
"I'm not sure I'll ever believe that."
"Well, I'll just have to keep reminding you, won't I?" Maria teased, her smile widening.
Remus chuckled, shaking his head.
"You're stubborn."
"Very," Maria agreed. "So you'd better get used to it."
They sat in silence for a moment, the warmth between them growing. The quiet wasn't uncomfortable—it thrummed with energy, like something unspoken was just waiting to be said. Maria tapped her fingers lightly against her mug, her gaze drifting toward Remus, studying the curve of his jaw, the faint lines that hinted at a life filled with too much responsibility and not enough joy.
Finally, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. Her voice was soft but direct.
"I think you let yourself like me because you thought it couldn't go anywhere."
Remus blinked, caught off guard by her boldness.
"What?"
Maria smiled gently, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Come on, you're too clever to deny it. You thought it was safe to feel something because you knew I'd have to go back to my world eventually."
He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came. Instead, he let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand across his face.
"Maybe," he admitted quietly. "But that doesn't mean I'm not falling hard for you now."
Maria's heart skipped a beat. Her chest tightened as if the air in the room had suddenly thinned. She hadn't expected him to say it out loud, not yet.
"Remus…"
"I've spent my whole life believing I couldn't have this," he continued, his voice low and rough with emotion. "That I didn't deserve it. And then you walked into this world, and everything I thought I knew changed."
Maria set down her mug with a soft clink, the tea forgotten. She stood and moved toward him, her footsteps light on the worn kitchen floor. As she reached his chair, she leaned against the table, standing between him and the rest of the world. Her soft smile was tinged with a playful lightness, but her eyes held nothing but sincerity.
"We can't change the fact that I'll have to go back. But we don't have to pretend this isn't happening."
Remus looked up at her, a flicker of hope crossing his tired features.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying…" Maria took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Let's take what we can get. However long we have, let's not waste it."
Remus's lips twitched into a small, disbelieving smile.
You're very persuasive."
Maria shrugged, her cheeks flushing slightly.
"I've been told that before. Mostly by my students, though, and they're usually trying to convince me to add more scenes to their plays."
Remus chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The sound warmed Maria to her core.
"Well, you've convinced me."
"Good." She reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. His were rough, calloused, and she loved the way they felt against hers. "Because, for the record, I'm not exactly easy to get rid of."
Remus tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Is that a warning or a promise?"
Maria smirked.
"Both."
His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, his gaze dropping to where their fingers entwined. There was something so simple, yet so profound, in that small gesture.
"Are you sure?" Remus asked softly. "I'm… well, you know what I am. And my life isn't exactly a fairy tale."
Maria rolled her eyes, her grin widening.
"Please. Fairy tales are overrated. I've read your story, remember? I know all your flaws. And guess what? I'm still here."
Remus shook his head in disbelief.
"You're remarkable, you know that?"
Maria leaned down, her face inches from his. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Took you long enough to notice."
He laughed—a soft, warm sound that seemed to lift the weight from his shoulders.
"I suppose I deserved that."
"Oh, absolutely." Maria's grin widened. "But don't worry—I plan on reminding you regularly."
Remus stood, their hands still clasped. He was close now, so close that Maria could feel the warmth radiating off him. Slowly, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek.
"I don't know how I got so lucky," he murmured.
Maria tilted her head, her smile playful.
"Well, I did fall out of the sky and into the library, so I suppose you can thank fate."
"Or bad luck," Remus teased, his voice light. "Depending on how you see it."
"Oh, I'm definitely blaming fate. Maybe a rogue time-turner or a really determined house-elf."
Remus chuckled again, shaking his head.
"You're impossible."
"And yet, here we are." Maria's voice softened as her teasing melted into something more tender. "Standing in the middle of an enchanted house, in a world I never thought I'd see. And all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you."
Remus stilled, his eyes searching hers for any trace of doubt. He found none.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
Maria smiled.
"Permission."
"You already have it."
She didn't wait any longer. She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was tentative at first, both of them testing the waters, unsure if they'd sink or swim. But when Maria wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the hesitation melted away.
Remus's hands settled on her waist, grounding them both. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more real with each passing second. Maria felt herself get lost in it—the warmth, the quiet crackle of magic in the air, the feeling of being exactly where she was supposed to be.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they caught their breath.
"So," Maria said with a grin, her voice slightly breathless. "Are we doing this, or what?"
Remus laughed again, the sound lighter than it had been in years.
"Yes. We're doing this."
"Good." Maria brushed her fingers through his hair, tucking a loose strand behind his ear. "Because don't think I'm going anywhere just yet."
Remus kissed her again, softer this time. When they pulled away, he smiled.
"Promise?"
Maria held up her pinky with a mischievous grin.
"Pinky swear."
He took her pinky in his own, sealing the promise with a solemn nod.
"Well, that's binding. I'll hold you to it."
"Good." Maria kissed him again, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Because I'm stubborn."
Remus chuckled, shaking his head.
"And I wouldn't have it any other way."
They sat back down, their hands still entwined across the table. The world outside the walls of Grimmauld Place was dark and dangerous, filled with uncertainty. But for now, in this quiet, magical moment, they had each other.
And for both of them, that was enough.