#quiet!reader

You didn’t speak much. You rarely did. But that was one of the reasons Ivan liked you.

While others tried to reach past his cold exterior with forced warmth or words that wrapped around nothing, you sat with him in silence, eyes occasionally searching the sky like you were reading a language only you could understand.

“I had a weird dream,” Ivan murmured, glancing sideways, his black eyes glinting with the dying light. “You were gone. Just—gone. And I couldn’t find you, no matter where I looked.”

You turned to him slowly, your lips parting just slightly in surprise. He smiled, faint and fleeting, one fang just visible.

“Scared me more than anything I’ve faced in that stupid stage.”

You didn’t know how to respond in words, so you took his hand into yours, holding it tight. Ivan stilled, then let out a small laugh—a rare, quiet thing that only you ever got to hear.

“I know. I know you wouldn’t leave,” he said, his fingers curling around yours. “You don’t need to say it.”

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.

Despite the quiet, your presence anchored him. When the world felt fake—plastic smiles and glittering lies—your silence was real. Gentle. Reassuring.

In a world where he always felt too intense, too cold, too obsessive—you let him be soft.

And in turn, he loved you with a quiet devotion he showed no one else.

Till stood in the middle of his room, surrounded by crumpled sketches and fragmented thoughts. The night was quiet except for the rustling of paper and the occasional soft hum from a broken fan. You sat on the edge of the bed, knees pulled close to your chest, watching him with concerned eyes.

He hadn’t spoken in a while.

Then he finally turned to you, eyes rimmed with red, the teal dulled by doubt. “I messed up again,” he said. “They all saw it. I cracked. I…I wasn’t supposed to lose control.”

You got up slowly, stepping over discarded papers with careful feet, and reached out. Your hand brushed his wrist gently. He flinched at first—then relaxed.

You rarely spoke. That’s what calmed him most.

You didn’t ask him to explain or push him to open up. You simply stood there, your quiet presence wrapping around him like a soft blanket.

“I keep thinking,” he whispered, “you’ll get tired of me. That one day, you’ll wake up and realize I’m too much. Too broken.”

Your thumb brushed his hand, and you shook your head gently.

Till looked at you, almost breathless. “Even now…you still like me? Even like this?”

Your gaze didn’t waver. Slowly, you leaned up and pressed your forehead to his, the gesture tender, grounding.

He melted. Soft tears welled in his eyes, and he let himself fall into you—arms curling around your waist, holding tight like you were the only real thing in his world.

“You’re so quiet,” he murmured, a shaky laugh escaping him. “And yet somehow, you’re the loudest voice in my head. Telling me I’m still worth it.”

You didn’t say a word.

You didn’t need to.

Because for Till, your presence was louder than any declaration, stronger than any lyric.

And in that small, silent moment—he believed he could be loved.

Fluff

Light noticed you because you didn't notice him. Or at least, you acted like you didn't. While everyone else either admired him or got nervous around him, you treated him with the same cold indifference you treated everyone else with.

He initially assumed you were judging him. Light is extremely aware of how people perceive him, so your distant attitude made him curious almost immediately.

Once you'll start to hang out, every meet up is just you both sitting in his or your room and studying in silence.

Light is used to people being impressed by every single thing he does, so he's almost visibly shocked when you don't even spare him a glance after he said something magnificently intelligent.

Your texts consist of one word answers and a period behind it. "Do you want to come over tonight? My parents invited you to dinner." "Yes." And it's somehow driving him crazy. Normally Light wouldn't care about a dry texter, hell he would rather jump in front of a driving car than use emojis, but he's fascinated, almost mesmerized, how your whole person is so distant.

He respects how composed you are. You don't ramble, you don't overshare, and you never seem desperate for attention. He feels like it's worth his time talking to you, you pick out your words carefully before you speak and they are always articulate.

To outsiders your relationship seems almost stuck-up and boring. Not a singular sign of PDA and y'all don't even talk; what kinda relationship is that? But you both love it, you find comfort in each others silence..

Light would become weirdly protective over your alone time. If someone annoys you too much, he'll step in with that polite-but-sharp tone that immediately makes people back off.

You both find intimacy in the small things: him placing a warm drink beside you while you study, you silently fixing his tie before he leaves, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder while silently watchign tv at night.

If you ever quietly admitted you trusted him, it would genuinely affect him more than some huge emotional confession.

He'd never say it out loud, but he finds your coldness comforting. The world is so loud and full of injustice, but here you are, like a cold burst of wind on a hot summer day.

Smut

He tries to deny it but he certainly developed a praise kink for you. Expect him to pounce on you like an animal when you so much as say "good", after he found the solution to a difficult math problem.

His personal life goal while having sex is having you make noise. Light is determined and you will feel that, shaking and crying from overstimulation. Sometimes he'll just edge you until you whimper out a pathetic "please Light", he will make you cum even harder now.

Light absolutely loves it when you give him head. It's like power-play to him, seeing you choke on his dick and he will push your head down.

You both have a shared calender and sometimes when he checks the week ahead, Light's eyes widen as he stares at the little "sex" on Saturday, that you put in

You’re a quiet person. You mostly keep to yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve said a couple of sentences since you’ve joined the Thunderbolts. They don’t mind your quietness, but they do wish that you would talk a bit more. They’re not going to force you to talk though. You always sit in your own corner with a book in the living room area of the tower and mind your own business.

“Hey, new girl.” John calls out to you.

You looked up from your book, looking over at John.

“She has a name, Walker.” Ava says.

“I’m not good with names.” John says.

John looks at you, waiting for you to tell him your name for the umpteenth time.

“Her name is Y/N.” Bucky says.

Bucky looks over at you, giving you a smile. You smiled back.

Bucky has had feelings for you shortly after you joined the team. He hasn’t told you yet though. He doesn’t want to unload his feelings on you and accidentally overwhelm you. For now, he’s going to keep his feelings to himself, but he’s not sure how long he can keep his feelings in. He’s going to try to keep them in the best he can.

Ever since you joined the team, you noticed that Bucky has been nice and welcoming to you. You thought that he’s just being nice and welcoming to you is just because he’s a team leader and that’s what team leaders do. Although, you are completely oblivious to it, which is because you’ve never had the best track record when it comes to men. You’ve never been asked out or anything by a man. Men just don’t see you the way Bucky does. Bucky sees the most gorgeous woman alive. That’s what he sees.

One day, Bucky walks in the gym to see you training. He watches you for a moment. Not in a creepy way. In a way that he’s admiring you. Although, he did notice that your stance is off a bit. He decided to be nice and help you fix your stance.

“Hey, Y/N.” Bucky greets you as he walks towards you.

Bucky accidentally startled you, because you didn’t know he was in the gym. You thought you were alone.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He apologizes softly.

You gave him a soft smile. That made Bucky’s heart flutter. He loves your smile.

“I couldn’t help but notice that your stance is a bit off and I was wondering if I could help you fix it.” He say politely.

You gave him a nod. Bucky gently turns you around so your back is facing him. You could feel the heat of his body centimeters away from you. Anyways, Bucky got to helping you on your stance.

“Put your legs shoulder with apart.” Bucky says softly, his hand gently patting the side of your thigh.

You did as he said. Bucky looks in the mirror that’s in front of you two, making sure your stance is right now and it is.

“There you go.” He says.

“Thank you, Sergeant Barnes.” You say quietly.

“Call me Bucky, doll face.” He says softly and flirtatiously.

Bucky continues to be nice to you. Again, you just take it as him being a team leader and you’re still oblivious of it. He didn’t take offense to it. He just wants you to feel welcome is all. Then one night, Bucky couldn’t sleep and went to the kitchen for something to drink and saw you sitting at the dining room table and drinking tea in dim lighting.

“You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” Bucky asks.

You looked over at Bucky and shook your head no. Bucky made himself a cup of tea as well and sat down next to you at the table. There was an awkward silence for a moment before Bucky speaks up.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t talk much.” Bucky says.

You nodded. Bucky leans forward, putting his hand on your knee.

“I want you to know that you can talk to me anytime you want.” He says softly.

You weren’t sure what to say. Partly because Bucky’s hand is on your knee and it’s making you flustered. You never felt that way before.

“I- umm- I appreciate you being nice to me.” You say quietly and nervously. “Guys have never been this nice to me.” You admitted.

“That can’t be true.” Bucky says.

“It is.” You say, looking down.

The hand that was on your knee gently lifted your head just enough so you were looking in Bucky’s blue eyes that you quickly got lost in.

“Those guys don’t see what I see.” Bucky says.

“What do you see?” You asked.

“I see the most gorgeous and badass woman alive. The men who don’t see that are stupid.” He says.

“Really?” You asked.

“I mean every word.” He says softly.

You and Bucky gazed deeply in each other’s eyes.

“Can I admit something to you?” Bucky asks like a nervous teenage boy who’s talking to his crush for the first time.

“Yes.” You replied.

“I like you. I have since you joined the team. You’re an incredible woman and I would love to get to know you better if that’s ok.” He admits softly.

Your heart flutters in your chest. This is the first time anyone has ever felt this way about you. You never would’ve thought that person would be Bucky who happens to be your team leader and boss. You’ve come to terms with not being with someone before you met him, but that changed when he admitted his feelings to you a few seconds ago.

“You really feel that way about me?” You asked.

“Of course I do.” He says softly.

The more you two gazed in each other’s eyes, the more the tension between the two of you kept building. It wasn’t awkward tension or any ordinary tension. This tension felt sexual. Your breath makes a hitching sound as Bucky leans in to kiss you. It’s started off soft and sweet, but then it immediately turned into something more than just that. He stands up, bringing you up with him. He picks you up and sets you on the table. Your legs opened on their own accord. Bucky puts them on his waist as he gently lays you down on the table. His Army dog tags rested against your chest.

“You’re so beautiful.” Bucky says softly against your lips.

“Yea?” You asked.

“Mhmm.” He hums as his lips move downward to your neck.

You tilted your head just enough to give him access to your neck. One of your hands held onto the back of his head, running your fingers through his long hair while your free hand was on his back, your hand clutching the fabric of his white tank top. His teeth grazed your skin, not marking you up, just grazing. That’s when your eyes shot open, realizing where this is about to go.

“Wait a second.” You breathed, lightly pushing him away.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks softly while panting.

“I’m a virgin.” You tell him.

Bucky’s eyes go wide and his cheeks turn red in realization.

“Oh shit- I’m so sorry.” He quickly apologizes.

“It’s ok.” You say softly.

“I would understand if you want to stop and don’t want to go any further.” He says.

“I don’t mind going further.” You say.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

You nodded your head yes. Bucky smiles and helps you off of the table, taking you to his bedroom. You laid down on his bed while he got on top of you.

“Are you sure this is want?” Bucky softly asks one more time.

“Yes.” You answered softly.

Bucky kisses you again. This time, it was just soft and sweet.

“I’m going to show you how beautiful I think you are.” He almost whispers.

“I would like that.” You say softly.

You were never the type to go out of your way to talk to people. Every time you tried, your words would stumble out, leaving you a stuttering mess. So your daily routine was to go to school, do your work, go home & repeat. You kept your head in the books and headphones over your ears.

Until one accident (literally) changed everything.

After school, you decided against staying home and went to the park. You sat on the bench, people watching. Listening to the kids giggling on the playground, watching the elderly couple chat on their daily walk, or hearing the sounds of skateboard wheels grinding against the concrete. 

It was peaceful, but you hated the idea of your hair smelling like the outside. You got up from the bench, pulling your denim skirt down, and began your walk home. 

“WOAH, WATCH OUT”

The feeling of wind brushing past your skin was replaced with a huge force colliding with your body. 

“Shit shit, I'm sorry… Oh, hello, pretty lady.”

You could practically hear him grinning down at you. Your arms slowly moved from your face, and your eyes blinked open. 

He removed himself from above you, dusting off his pants and stretched his hand out towards you.

“Hi, the name's Jabber. Jabber Wonger.” He grinned. 

You took his hand and pulled yourself up, took a deep breath, and began to speak. “Hi.” 

His eyes widened at your soft yet raspy voice. 

“Huh? Speak up, don’t get all shy on me now.”

Rolling your eyes, you reintroduced yourself, a little louder this time. 

“Oh, you're that girl in my science class, never heard you speak before.”

“Cute, suits you.”

“Um, thanks?”

He threw his arm over your shoulder and began to speak.

“Sooo.. I’m thinking. You? Me? Ice cream? Right now?” 

“Didn’t your mom tell you not to talk to strangers?”

“If I were to get kidnapped, I'd definitely want it to be by a pretty lady like you.”

He leaned towards your ear with a small smirk. “So is that a yes?” 

You gulped, feeling his breath on your ear.

“Yeah.. yeah that's cool”

And from that very day, you and Jabber spent almost every day together. You were there at the skate park recording clips for him, and he was there during your study sessions at the library. Aquarium dates to early morning sunrises at the beach. You guys walked through school, hands intertwined, looking at each other like you were the only ones in the world. 

Jabber was sweating bullets; it was the first time he came to your house. He tried to look presentable, in a plain white tee, baggy jeans, and two bouquets of flowers for you and your mom. He spent all night practicing a firm handshake and what he planned to say, but he would never tell you that, though. Introductions went smoothly, and your mom and dad were impressed with his aspirations and how he carried himself.

After introductions, you grabbed his hand and led him up to your room. 

“KEEP THE DOOR OPEN”

“Obviously, Dad, I love my life, thank you very much,” you murmured. 

Jabber’s eyes darted around your room, taking in the cluttered walls and shelves full of memories he’d only seen through FaceTime. 

“Boy, come sit down.” 

“On the bed? You do know your dad is BIG. He’s like a fucking giant,” he whined.  

“He’s a softie on the inside, all bark no bite. I promise.”

He took a deep breath and made his way over to your bed, his body submitting to your bed as soon as his body touched the softness of your bed.

“Yo girl, why’d you never invite me sooner? This place is tightttt” 

A small smile crept onto your face as you watched him roll around on your bed. “You should be flattered as the first boy ever to be in here.” Getting up from your bed, he makes his way in front of your body-length mirror, clearly feeling himself. You watched him pose and mess with his locs as he spoke. 

“I’m not surprised, I mean, look at me. Who wouldn’t want this fine pineapple lightskin in their bed?” 

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. “You need to stay off of TikTok because what?”

“Come on, let’s watch a movie.” You grabbed his arm, leading him to your bed. 

“I'm picking the movie because we’re not watching Mid-'90s again.” 

“But it’s a good movie,” he pouted.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Y/N considered herself a rather observant student, especially when it came to the Marauders. It was hard not to notice them, really. They were practically a four-person parade through the halls of Hogwarts—pranks, laughter, and charm trailing behind them like a comet's tail. James Potter with his messy hair and endless attempts to impress Lily Evans, Sirius Black with his dazzling grin and effortless cool, Peter Pettigrew following close, always eager to please. But one Marauder stood out to her more than the rest. Remus Lupin.

There was something about him that had Y/N hooked from the beginning. Perhaps it was his quiet brilliance or the way he seemed to carry a world of mysteries in those warm, honey-colored eyes. Or maybe, it was the way new scars seemed to appear on his face and hands every so often, faint but unmistakable. They fascinated her, those scars, and as her gaze lingered on him in class or at meals, she found herself trying to figure him out.

And, admittedly, somewhere along the way, Y/N developed a bit of a crush on him. But who wouldn’t? He was brilliant, always top of the class without trying too hard, and—and yes, he was gorgeous. Handsome in that annoyingly effortless way. Soft, tousled hair that practically begged to be touched, sharp cheekbones, and—Merlin, those knit jumpers that always made him look so adorable. How was that fair? It was like he’d been sculpted by some benevolent god of tall, bookish, sweater-loving dream boys.

But Y/N’s interest in him was more than just attraction. There was something… otherworldly about him. She’d started to notice patterns—how he would seem worn and pale every few weeks, how he would disappear entirely from school grounds for a day or two, only to return looking exhausted and, if possible, even more scarred than before.

A month ago, after endless speculation and careful observation, Y/N had arrived at a conclusion: Remus Lupin was probably a werewolf. She wasn’t completely certain; it was more of an educated guess. But what could she do with this theory? It wasn’t like she could walk up to him and blurt out, “Hey, Remus! You don’t know me, but I’ve been watching you for months, and I just wanted to ask, are you, by any chance, a werewolf?”

The thought alone made her cringe. Y/N sighed, tapping her quill against her parchment. Remus Lupin might be full of mysteries and maybe—just maybe—she’d get the courage to actually talk to him someday.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The full moon was only a few days away, and Y/N could already see the toll it was taking on Remus. He was limping slightly, a stiffness in his stride that made her heart ache, and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t been sleeping in days, and though she knew he had his friends—the Marauders, always fiercely loyal—she couldn’t help but feel he needed more comfort than they could provide. She wanted to do something for him, something small but meaningful.

The idea hit her while she was rummaging through her bag in the library: an anonymous get-well-soon basket. She could leave it outside his dorm, a collection of little comforts to ease the days leading up to his transformation. She’d make sure it was subtle, not too personal, just enough to lift his spirits without drawing attention.

Excitement and nerves mixed in her stomach as she mentally listed what she’d need. A couple potions to help with sleep, pain, and anxiety, some of Honeydukes' finest chocolate, a soft blanket to keep him warm, and a few baked goods from the kitchen elves. She might even add a small note with a simple message—“Hope these bring you a bit of comfort during the full moon. Take care of yourself.”

Over the next couple of days, Y/N carefully gathered everything. She bought him a midnight-blue wool blanket that felt like a hug in fabric form and a variety of different chocolates. She used her advanced potion skills to make Murtlap Essence, a Calming Draught, and a Healing Potion.

But the most important addition was a small bottle of Wolfsbane Potion. She’d somehow managed to get her hands on the recipe, even though it wasn’t officially taught at Hogwarts—and she’d acquired a secret stash of the rare ingredients needed to brew it, though she'd never admit where from. It had taken several nights of brewing in the abandoned classroom she’d found, but she’d done it.

The full moon was only two days away when she finished assembling the basket, carefully placing the note on top before leaving it right outside the boys' dormitory. With a final glance over her handiwork, she quickly walked back to her dorm, satisfied with her work.

As she returned to her room, a little thrill of satisfaction bubbled within her. Maybe, just maybe, her small gesture would help Remus feel a little less alone, a little less burdened by the full moon’s approach. And that thought alone was enough to fill her with quiet joy.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Just a few floors below, the Marauders were still lounging in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled across chairs and couches as the fire crackled low. They’d spent hours discussing pranks, arguing about the latest Quidditch match, and bickering about everything from Potions homework to the best way to dodge Filch. When the last embers started to die, they finally decided it was time to call it a night.

As they made their way up the stairs, it was James who first spotted the basket. He froze mid-step, eyebrows raised as he pointed it out. "Er, lads... anyone know what this is?"

The other boys crowded around, peering down at the unexpected sight.

“No clue,” Peter murmured, squinting at the note resting on top.

Sirius, with his usual curiosity, leaned down and plucked up the note, inspecting it with a grin before his eyes gleamed mischievously. “Ooooooh, Remus, it’s for you!” he cooed, reading the note aloud for the group: ‘Hope these bring you a bit of comfort during the full moon. Take care of yourself.’

The boys’ faces all fell at once. Whoever had left this knew. Someone had figured it out. Their carefully crafted excuses, the timing of their sneaking around, all the little tricks they’d come up with—they thought it was foolproof. But apparently, someone had been watching more closely than they’d realized.

Without another word, they grabbed the basket, exchanging uneasy glances as they rushed into the dormitory, shutting the door firmly behind them. They gathered around Remus’s bed, where James set the basket down, and just stared at it.

“Well? Open it already!” James urged, his voice a mix of curiosity, excitement, and a tinge of concern.

Remus took a steadying breath. His friends were watching him closely as he slowly lifted the wrapping, half-expecting some kind of prank to burst out at him. But instead, he found an assortment of thoughtful items neatly arranged within the basket. A stack of Honeydukes chocolates, carefully tied together with string. A blanket, dark blue and soft, lay folded at the side. Several small bottles—potions, each labeled with precision, sat in the center, cushioned by tissue paper.

They all scanned the contents in awe and curiosity, but Sirius was the first to notice something unusual. He gasped, eyes widening as he pointed to one particular bottle.

“Holy shit, is that—”

“Wolfsbane,” Remus finished quietly, staring at the vial with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

They all fell silent, taking in the implications of that single bottle. Wolfsbane Potion was incredibly complex, nearly impossible for a student to brew, and yet here it was—crafted, sealed, and ready for him. Someone had not only figured out his secret but had gone to lengths far beyond casual concern. The potion’s presence in the basket hinted at more than just kindness; it was a deeply personal gesture, an unspoken understanding that spoke volumes.

Remus swallowed hard, his fingers brushing the cool glass of the bottle. "Did the card say who it was from?" he asked, looking over at Sirius, who shrugged and handed him the note again.

Remus read the short message over and over, searching for any hidden clues, some hint that might give away the sender. But the note was short, simple, and entirely anonymous. He turned it over, checked for invisible ink, even held it up to the light, but there was nothing.

“Not a single hint?” James murmured, peering over his shoulder, a frown deepening across his face. “Nothing?”

The group exchanged baffled glances. They examined the basket once more, handling each item carefully to make sure nothing seemed dangerous. The potions were labeled clearly and accurately, the chocolate smelled rich and sweet, and the blanket was incredibly soft—perfect for a night when he’d be feeling cold and drained. Every item seemed genuine, carefully chosen, with not a hint of a prank or hex.

As they finished examining the basket, they slowly started getting ready for bed. Remus sat quietly on his bed, his mind racing as he took in the kindness of it all. He tucked the potions into his bedside drawer, hiding the chocolate where he knew Sirius wouldn’t be able to steal it, and spread the blanket over his bed. It was soft, warmer than his own, and the weight of it settled over him like a quiet comfort he hadn’t realized he needed.

Sliding under the blanket, Remus felt a warmth blooming in his chest. Someone out there knew his secret, but instead of using it against him, they’d tried to make things a little easier. And he knew, without question, that he had to figure out who it was.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The full moon had passed in a calm that Remus had never experienced before. He woke that morning still feeling sore, but the aches were manageable. Normally, the transformations left him scarred and hollow, as if all the energy and warmth had been drained from him, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. But this time, thanks to the Wolfsbane Potion and the potions from the basket, he felt… human. Less broken.

After seeing the other Marauders off to class, Remus leaned back into his bed, feeling the softness of the new blanket wrap around him like a gentle hug. He’d spent the morning drinking one of the calming potions, using the healing salve for his aches, and nibbling on a bit of chocolate to ease his nerves. And though he was grateful, he couldn’t shake the strange blend of curiosity and unease that swirled in his mind. Who knew? Who cared this much? The secrecy felt like a burden, yet he couldn’t help but feel a small glow of warmth every time he glanced at the basket.

Meanwhile, James, Sirius, and Peter were trying to answer that very question in their own way. During Potions, they’d had an idea. Whoever had brewed Wolfsbane Potion had to be incredibly skilled, so finding out who had the best marks in Potions could narrow things down. The second Slughorn dismissed them, they pounced.

Sirius leaned casually on Slughorn’s desk, grinning with exaggerated innocence. “Professor,” he began, “say I wanted to improve my Potions skills. Just hypothetically.”

Slughorn’s eyebrows lifted, clearly intrigued by Sirius’s unusual interest. “Oh? Well, it’s about time, Mr. Black. I’d say your marks could certainly use a bit of boosting.”

“Oh, I know, I know!” Sirius waved his hands, laughing a bit. “That’s exactly why I was thinking maybe a bit of tutoring could help. So… who would you say is the top student in your class?”

James sidled up next to him, nodding earnestly. “Yeah, Professor. Who’s the best at brewing?”

Slughorn looked delighted, his chest puffing with pride at the idea of his Gryffindor students taking a sudden interest in his class. He lowered his voice as though he were sharing a prized secret. “Ah, if you’re looking for someone with real talent, you’d want to speak with Y/N Y/L/N. A truly gifted student! Absolutely meticulous with her brewing, and a Gryffindor as well! You boys ought to know her.”

Sirius and James exchanged baffled glances. “Y/N Y/L/N?” James muttered, frowning in thought.

Peter piped up, looking a little surprised. “Oh, I remember her. We did a project together in second year. She’s very sweet. I suppose she’s easy to miss, always keeping to herself.”

“Right…” Sirius trailed off, scratching his chin. “Doesn’t sound like the type to be sneaking around in the dead of night to drop off mysterious gift baskets, does she?”

“People can surprise you,” Peter shrugged. “I bet she’s got her reasons.”

After classes were over, the three Marauders nearly sprinted back to the dormitory. They’d waited all day to tell Remus their findings, and as soon as they saw him, they launched right into it.

“So,” Sirius said, flopping dramatically onto Remus’s bed, “we might know who left the basket.”

Remus looked up, eyebrows raised, though he tried to appear casual. “Really?”

James nodded, practically bouncing with excitement. “Y/N Y/L/N. Slughorn says she’s his top student in Potions. And she’s a Gryffindor, so she’d know where to find us.”

The name caught Remus off guard. “Y/N Y/L/N?” He knew exactly who she was—quiet, always hanging at the edges of things, never drawing attention to herself. He remembered her from their earlier years, especially a few years back when she and Peter had done that project together. She’d been kind and incredibly smart, but she always seemed to fade into the background.

Sirius shot him a curious look. “Wait—do you actually know her?”

Remus hesitated, carefully picking his words. “I mean… I remember her. We’ve been in classes together since first year.”

But what he didn’t say was that he’d once felt drawn to her quiet kindness. She wasn’t like other students; there was a thoughtfulness to her, a gentle intelligence that had always intrigued him. He remembered her now, the shy girl who had somehow made him feel seen, and the idea that she might have left the basket stirred something inside him—a mix of hope and nerves.

Sirius smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “Oh, you remember her, do you?”

Remus rolled his eyes, trying to hide his blush. “Look, it’s probably not her. There’s no way she’d still remember… I mean, we barely ever talked.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Barely ever talked? That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t care. Besides,” he added with a grin, “you clearly want it to be her.”

Remus glanced away, not trusting himself to deny it. Because if it really was Y/N… she’d have gone to extraordinary lengths just to help him. It would mean she knew his secret and, rather than fearing him, had quietly found a way to ease his burden. And perhaps the most surprising part? He found himself hoping it was her.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright. I’ll talk to her. See if there’s anything to this theory of yours.”

The next morning, with a hint of apprehension and excitement, Remus set out to find her. He decided to look in the library first, where he thought she might be studying between classes. But as he crossed the common room, he spotted her in the far corner, curled up in a chair with a thick book on her lap.

He took a steadying breath and made his way over to her. She looked up, clearly surprised to see him, her eyes widening as he gave a small, nervous smile.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Do you mind if I join you?”

She blinked, a little flustered, but nodded, gesturing to the seat across from her. “Um, of course, Remus.”

They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a moment, and Remus could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. He cleared his throat, feeling the weight of her attention on him.

“So… I, uh, wanted to thank you,” he started, not sure how to bring it up. “For… everything.”

She stiffened slightly, her cheeks flushing, but kept her gaze steady. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she replied quietly.

He watched her, seeing the faintest hint of a smile playing at her lips, and knew then, without a doubt, that she was the one. “The gift basket. The potions. The blanket.” He lowered his voice. “The Wolfsbane. It helped me… more than I can say.”

Her face softened, and she nodded, understanding in her eyes. “I’m… really glad to hear that. I just wanted you to have what you needed. It’s not easy going through all that on your own.”

Remus felt his heart swell. Here she was, fully aware of the truth and yet sitting here, calm and kind, accepting him exactly as he was.

He met her gaze, feeling a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in ages. “Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know what I did to deserve that kind of kindness from you, but… it means a lot.”

They sat there in a comfortable silence, the unspoken words passing between them, understanding filling the space. He knew he’d found a friend in her—someone who saw through the mask he wore and had chosen to help, not out of pity, but because she understood what it meant to care quietly, deeply, and without expectation.

And perhaps, he thought with a hint of warmth, this was only the beginning of something much deeper.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆