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“And I’ve missed you,” she places a quick peck on your forcibly puckered lips before asking, “And where is our sweetheart?”

Her grips lessen as she looks around. You can feel her reach out with her magic. She would’ve sensed if Agatha were home long before she got here but it’s still cute to watch her double check.

“Off siphoning a coven,” you say. “She should be home in a day or so.”

“Perfect,” Rio murmurs and pulls you in for a kiss.

It’s not her usual response to Agatha being away but you’re too distracted by her soft lips to question it. You happily lean into her, your hands creeping under her jacket and then up her shirt to feel her cool skin. You try to pull her closer but she pushes you back instead. You follow her lead and lay down, wrapping your legs eagerly around her hips when she climbs between them. 

Agatha hasn’t technically forbidden you from touching yourself this time but she’d been so intent on outsmarting the latest witch it might have slipped her mind. Or she purposely said nothing so she had someone to punish while on a big siphoning high.

Either idea excites you. If she genuinely forgot and you’ve behaved, the reward will be mind-blowing. If she did it on purpose, she’ll trick you into breaking a rule before punishing you stupid. Either way, you’re needy and have no intention of stopping Rio.

She’s quick to remove your shirt and grope your chest, her lips never far from your own. She plays with your chest until you’re grinding up against her in need. She rips your pants and underwear off instead of taking the time to remove them. Her fingers find you soaked and she growls. You gasp into her mouth as her wet fingers circle your clit. Rio pulls back just far enough to watch your face as her hand dips lower and she pushes two fingers slowly into you. You mewl when she’s two knuckles deep. She always makes you feel fuller than she should.

Movement catches the corner of your eye and you turn your head. Agatha stands in the doorway, power pulses off of her. She’s fresh from a feeding and ready to burn off the euphoria. She also looks less than impressed.

“Is two days all it takes for my pet to get desperate enough to start humping someone else?”

Your hands tighten on Rio’s shoulders. You’ve always found Agatha’s ability to get jealous about you and Rio more than a little amusing. It’s best not to push her but fuck when she greets you like this you want to do it all the time.

“A bit past humping,” you say.

Rio punishes your cheek with a curl of her fingers. You whimper.

“Only having a taste, sweetheart,” Rio says like she isn’t deep inside of you.

“Three fingers is hardly a taste,” Agatha scoffs. “No doubt you were planning to devour her until I interrupted.”

“I’ll show you exactly how far I was planning to go,” Rio says.

A threat, a promise and a goad all in one. Agatha’s eyes trail your limp form as she considers this, or considers how she’ll stop Rio. 

She’s a vision. Her pupils are blown, her hair thicker from the crackling magic in the air and she’s in her witch robes. You can feel the magic pulsing off of her. You want to taste it on your tongue. She gestures for Rio to continue.

Rio starts pumping her fingers again. Your hips lift to meet her thrusts but you can’t look away from Agatha. She draws closer without taking her eyes away from where Rio’s fingers disappear inside of you. Having her eyes on you makes the pressure build even faster. Rio swipes your clit and your nails dig into the soft leather of her jacket, your mouth falling open as you pant.

Agatha finally looks at you. “Are you getting close?”

Agatha is always aware of how close you are. It’s like she has a sixth sense for it. But you nod anyway. There’s no need to get in even more trouble. If you’re in trouble at all? It’s hard to tell when she’s like this. Rio continues to lightly play with your clit as she thrusts into you.

You’re moments away from tipping over the edge when she pulls away. Her wet hand moves to your hip to hold you down as you whine and squirm in protest. Your hips desperately searching for the slightest bit of friction to send you over the edge.

“I see,” Agatha says, “And how many times were you planning to deny the poor thing?”

Poor thing. That has to mean she’s feeling merciful, right?

“Until you came home,” Rio says.

You whimper at the idea. Agatha is home two days early. The amount of times Rio could have edged you would’ve driven you insane. Agatha’s eyes darken and she licks her lips. She likes the idea.

“Don’t let me stop you,” she says, in a way that shows she’s still slightly agitated.

“Mistress—” you try to beg but she waves her hand and the connection between your mouth and brain is gone. It’s rare that she doesn’t allow you to make any noise and the whine that escapes you proves she still wants to hear how desperate you are.

“My love,” Rio says, voice soothing. “I only wanted for you to come home to an incredibly desperate pet.”

“She gets plenty desperate from my absence,” Agatha says with a tight jaw.

“As desperate as this?” Rio pointedly runs her fingers through your soaked folds.

She gathers your wetness and lifts her fingers to show Agatha. The humiliation goes straight to your clit. Your legs unconsciously close tight around Rio in an attempt to get even a bit of pressure on your aching centre.

“If she’s been naughty.”

“Does listening to her Sir make her naughty?” 

Agatha steps close enough to grab Rio’s chin in a tight grip. You can see her sharp nails digging in.

“Yes, when her Sir is also being naughty.”

You’re definitely in trouble then. The way Rio is looking at Agatha tells you she isn’t going to be any help. The borderline worship on her face means she’s in the mood for obedience, despite how she started this play. Which means she won’t allow you to come purely to piss Agatha off.

“Tell me to stop fucking her and I will.”

Agatha scoffs and shoves Rio’s head to the side. “Antagonistic as ever.”

“Whatever helps to keep you entertained.”

“What will entertain me most is my pet spread out below me,” Agatha says.

Rio huffs a laugh and climbs to lay by your side. She has to force your legs to let her go. 

“Don’t let me stop you,” Rio gestures to you. It’s an effort not to squeeze your thighs together. Agatha gives Rio a long look. There’s no doubt some mild mischief on the way and Rio actions are verging on a command. Purple wraps around Rio’s wrists and yanks. She goes from lounging on her side to stretched out. She laughs again. She doesn’t fight the hold.

Agatha straddles you, still in her witch robes. It glides against your bare skin. The magic still rolls off of her. You shiver.

Please, Mistress, you beg. There’s no way to know if Agatha is currently in your mind or if she knows what you want from your expression.

“Does the naughty pet think she can ask for things?”

No. You don’t stop your pleading look. Agatha snorts and flicks her wrist. Her robes disappear. Electricity races where she touches you, the magic jumping from her skin. You arch into the feeling. Agatha’s purple forces you back down.

Her cold hands trail over your skin, her eyes admiring the effect Rio has on you. Her hands dip lower and you tense in anticipation. Her hands stop just below your waist. You try not to pout. Based on Agatha’s crinkled brows you fail. Agatha stays perfectly still and it takes you all of a second to realise it’s not a tease. Neither of you had been paying attention to Rio. A mistake. 

“Rio,” Agatha snarls.

“She’s spread out below you, isn’t she?” Rio asks smugly. Her fingers sneak below Agatha’s just to show she can before moving behind to reach where you’re aching. She traces patterns just above your twitching clit. 

Agatha’s magic sparks but it’s quickly swallowed by Rio’s green. The purple around your wrists is replaced by green that dances up and down your arms.

You hadn’t been expecting Rio to merely give in to Agatha’s commands, you all know that Agatha finds a fight much more entertaining than easy submission, but you’ve never seen her freeze Agatha like this before.

Rio’s fingers find your clit and you stop thinking about it. Agatha will slowly undo the spell Rio used whether you figure it out or not. You want to enjoy Rio’s hands before Agatha forces her to stop.

Rio runs light, teasing circles around your clit. You try to press closer but you can’t move far with Agatha on top of you. You feel Agatha’s eyes burn into you. The way they trace your face, your heaving chest, where Rio’s fingers play with you. You should probably do something to stop Rio, or at the very least resist, so Agatha doesn’t punish you for it later but what can you do against a cosmic being?

Rio buries her fingers inside of you and you moan. She keeps fucking you and you think she’s actually going to let you come. Then she stills. You whimper and whine and try to fuck yourself onto them but her magic presses you down. She won’t let you come until she decides that you can. Or until Agatha takes over. 

You notice a warm, wet feeling against your stomach and you look down. Agatha is wet. Rio follows your gaze and smiles slowly.

“Someone’s enjoying herself,” she says.

“Well it’s certainly not our pet,” Agatha says waspishly.

“We both know she loves the torture.” Agatha doesn’t say anything so Rio continues. “Why don’t we help you out a bit, hm?” Rio turns to you. “You want to make your mistress feel good, right pet?”

You nod eagerly. The caressing magic around your arms seeps into your skin. Your arms move without your say. Your hands land on Agatha’s hips and tighten. You watch with wide eyes as you move Agatha’s hips to grind against you.

Agatha looks furious but there’s no hiding the way her wetness grows. Rio’s fingers start moving again and your hands grip Agatha’s hips tight enough to bruise. Thankfully, Rio’s spell keeps your arms moving. Your ability to set a regularly pace is rapidly disappearing under her fingers and Agatha might’ve killed you for it.

There’s not enough friction for her to come but her breathing gets heavier and her face begins to flush. You watch, captivated even as your own orgasm grows.

Heat rises. You know the pleasure is going to end in another edge but you sink into it anyway. It feels too good to resist. You still writhe and squirm and whine when Rio pulls away. It doesn’t sway her.

You thought the heat was from your own rising orgasm. It’s only as it slips away that you realise that it’s coming from Agatha. Her magic radiates warmth as it undoes Rio’s spell.

The furnace turns into a roaring fire and Agatha breaks free. Rio is pinned to the bed by her neck in a second, Agatha’s snarling face inches from her own. Rio’s pupils are blown.

“You think you’re so clever,” Agatha snarls.

“Not as clever as you,” Rio says.

Agatha falters for a moment at the frank honesty, but only for a moment. “You’re not going to be able to walk by the time I’m done with you.”

“As fun as that will be, isn’t there someone else needing your attention?” Rio’s eyes flicker to you. You try to look as pathetic as possible. Agatha grinds her teeth.

“Make it up to me,” she commands Rio. Sir turns to you.

“You want to come?” Sir asks. You nod eagerly. “Then eat out your mistress.”

You try to push yourself up but your shaking arms give out. Agatha snorts and pushes you onto your back.

“Hold your tongue out,” she commands as she climbs on top of you. You obey and watch with eager eyes as she moves above your face. “Don’t move,” Agatha warns. You wouldn’t dare. Her taste fills you as she grinds against your face. You fall into a haze of her smell and taste as she uses you. 

Agatha is halfway to orgasm when you feel Rio’s hands creeping back up your thighs. She’s cruel enough to tease you before slipping two fingers back inside. Nothing feels better than this. Than being surrounded and consumed by them.

“Come for your owners,” Rio says.

“Ughh,” She cried in frustration. “It won’t budge!” Remus rushed over to help, their combined weight pushing the window shut with a ‘click’. With a flick of Remus’s wand, the rest of the windows slammed shut in unison. “Oh.” Said Y/N, one side of her body completely soaked, wet hair plastered to her forehead. “Guess that would have been easier.” Despite himself, Remus smiled.

“Here.” He murmured, casting a drying charm. She smiled, tucking a lock of now-dry hair behind her ear. 

“Thank you.” She turned her back to him, raised her wand to the extinguished candles, and called “Incendio!” Flames sparked back to life, casting a warm glow over the classroom. Remus' stomach twisted. Had he been too friendly with the drying charm? He could no longer afford to give Y/N the wrong idea. 

Y/N turned back to Remus, looking at him expectantly for instructions. He sighed internally. 

“I think,” Remus said, walking back to his desk. “That your issue with this spell lies in improper wand movement. It’s more of an ‘S’ with an upward motion. Y/N walked back to the middle of the room, standing in the center with her wand raised. 

“Like this?” She said, trying again, still only producing feeble sparks. 

“No. Your elbow is too high.” She tried again, shooting him an ever exasperated look when she, yet again, failed. Something about the sass in her gaze irked him. 

The fact that he deserved it, even more so.

Before he could stop himself, Remus pushed off the desk and walked up behind her. He reached to adjust her elbow, just like he did for any other student in his classes. And he kicked himself as soon as he did it. 

From this close to her, he noticed the way he back stiffened, her breathing completely faltering at his touch. He condemned his mistake as he made it, reaching farther forward to adjust her wrist. His larger hand wrapped around hers as he drew out the proper movement for her. He could feel the warmth of her body through her robes, could smell the scent of her shampoo.

“Protego Diabolica!” She cried, mimicking the movement Remus just showed her. A ring of blue fire erupted from her wand with a roar, encircling them both. “Wow!” Y/N said breathily, a triumphant laugh escaping her chest, the sound echoing throughout the room along with the patter of rain against the windows. 

And when she laughed, the emotion that filled him was the same one from long ago; When it had been James or Sirius he was helping, their whoops of triumph filling him with pride. 

But this was not his friend, and he was no longer a student. He stepped back from her as if her body burned him and let out an awkward cough. 

“Yes, well done. Very good.” The flames died out as she turned to look at him, leaving no trace on the old wooden floor. Before she could say anything, Remus faked a glance at his watch. “Goodness, look at the time! I’d best finish up a few papers, and I dare say you need to return to your common room before curfew.” Y/N gave him a quizzical look. 

“Yes. I suppose.” Late hours never used to matter during their sessions. Y/N silently crossed the room, bending to pick up her bag. “Well, goodnight, Professor.” There was a slight coolness in her tone.

Remus gave what he hoped was a pleasant wave as she left. The moment the door clicked shut, he dropped his head into his hands. Groaning, he pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he be so stupid? Could he not keep his emotions in check? It was as if every effort he made to distance himself from Y/N made the situation ten times worse. 

He walked over to the windows. Staring out over the downpour of rain. He was thankful that the dark, heavy clouds obscured the steadily waxing moon. As he watched the storm beat down across the castle grounds, he found the hurt, guarded expression of Y/N burned into his mind. And there, hands pressed hard against the windowsill, he found himself doing the only thing he seemed capable of anymore.

Pushing down his emotions and praying, uselessly, for restraint.

***

Winter enveloped the castle. The first week of December saw Hagrid carrying in ginormous Christmas trees for the great hall, Flitwick decorating them with an array of silver bobbles, and Peeves taking them off the tree when he wasn't looking. A soft layer of frost coated the grounds, making the landscape glimmer in the weak winter sunlight. 

Remus sat by the staff room fire. Legs crossed, a mug of tea raised to his lips as he perused the Daily Prophet. He heard the distinct creak of the staff room door opening and looked up from his paper to see a sour-faced Snape. He stood in the doorway with a sneer, holding a steaming goblet. 

“Ah, thank you, Severus,” Remus said, nodding to the Wolfsbane potion he carried. “If you would be so kind as to set it here.” He motioned towards the nearest table. Snape seemed like it was the last thing he’d like to do.

“Thank me not, Lupin,” Snape said in his cold, drawing voice, distaste heavy on his tongue. “It was your young protege that brewed this batch.”

Remus furrowed his eyebrows. Surely Snape didn't mean Harry? While the boy was very clever, even Lupin knew he had little talent in potions.

“Hopefully, Miss L/N has made a passable concoction. Our lives all depend on it.” Snape set the cup down and, with a swish of his billowing black robes, exited the room. 

Remus stared dumbfounded at the slightly smoking goblet. He picked it up gingerly, staring at the deep purple contents. A flurry of questions filled his head. Did she know it was for him? Of course she did, you idiot, who else in the castle needed a Wolfsbane potion? Did she volunteer? Was it simply a matter of practicing an advanced potion? Or was there something more to her motivations entirely? 

Remus took a giant swig of the potion. It was revolting as always, gelatinous as it slid down his throat, somehow hot and cold at the same time. And maybe it was all in his head, but something about it was gentler than usual. 

***

“Right, everyone,” Remus stood before his class of seventh years, a piece of chalk scribbling on the blackboard behind him, as if an invisible hand was writing notes. “Today, we will continue with advanced Shielding spells. If you would all kindly pick a partner, I will set you in pairs around the room.” There was a scrapping of chairs as everyone rushed to be paired with their friends. 

“Professor?” Called the long, drawing voice of a Slytherin student. “What do shielding spells do again?”

Automatically, Remus flicked his eyes towards Y/N’s, desperate to see if she had overheard that bit of utter stupidity. Sure enough, he caught her gaze. Her expression was comically aghast. He tore his eyes away from her quickly, cursing his resolve.

“Shielding spells, Mr. Flint, cast an often invisible wall of protection around the caster.” Marcus Flint nodded slowly; it looked like his brain was working hard to process the information. “Everyone ready?” Remus asked the room, moving desks and chairs aside with a flick of his wand. “Begin!” 

Remus walked up and down the room, watching as spells flew and shields went up. Every now and again, he gently stepped in to help a student or make a correction, but all seemed to be going well. 

Just as he was about to call the exercise to a halt, there was a roar of “Fuck!” from the other side of the room. 

Remus whipped around to see Y/N clutching her eye. He was surprised she had that kind of language (and volume) in her. Her dueling partner was apologizing profusely. All the other students lowered their wands, watching as Remus rushed over. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” As she lowered her hand, Remus caught a glimpse of a black eye and suppressed a groan of sympathy. 

“Ouch, yeah, I’m alright.” 

“Oi!” Called Marcus Flint from the back of the room. “That’s house points off for language, Sir!” 

“Thank you, Mr. Flint,” Remus said, trying to assess the damage. “But I believe these count as exceptional circumstances.” 

“I’m fine, Professor Lupin, I can keep going.” A steady stream of apologies continued to flow from Y/N's partner’s mouth. 

“Y/N, I really think you should go to the hospital wing.” He saw her pause and said in a low voice that only she could hear. “You have nothing to prove by carrying on, believe me. I know you are more than proficient.” She pursed her lips before consenting with a curt nod, walking out the door as the rest of the class resumed. 

The remainder of the day went smoothly. All Remus could think about, however, was his interaction with Y/N. Had he been unprofessional in any way? He didn't think he’d have reacted any differently if it were another student. But then again, his heart didn't freeze like that when just any other student got hurt. 

It was nearing twilight. Waves of pink and purple light chased the warmth of the day from the sky. Remus sat in his office, grading a stack of essays, when a small knock at the door stole his attention. Remus rose from his chair with a groan, crossing the room in long strides to open it. To his surprise, Y/N stood there, her arms crossed, hip pressed against the stone doorframe.

“Miss L/N! Black eye all mended, I see?” She smiled.

“Yes, took Madame Pomfrey no time at all.”

“Good, good.” His voice trailed off, and he paused awkwardly, unsure of what to say. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I need a favor, actually. I need a book from the restricted section.” 

“Of course, I’d be happy to sign off on that for you.” He said, turning back towards his desk in search of a spare bit of parchment to sign. 

“Actually,” Her voice called from the doorway.  “I need you to come with me if you don’t mind.” Remus raised his eyebrow at her. “Those Weasley boys got past Madame Pince with a fake signature last week.” She explained. “Got a hold of that Famous Fire Eaters book in there. They were still in the hospital wing when I left. Anyways, she's only accepting face-to-face verbal confirmation from professors.” 

Remus wrestled with himself for a moment. Was it too rude to make an excuse and suggest she find another teacher? Was it unprofessional to accompany her himself? Would it cross the line he’d drawn so strictly in the proverbial sand? 

Remus saw the expectant look she gave him from the doorway and sighed. 

“Yes, I suppose that's alright.”

They set off towards the library in silence. They passed a few stragglers headed towards the great hall for dinner, but other than that, they were accompanied only by the sound of their footsteps. The awkwardness of it laid heavy on Remus’s shoulders. 

“Are you alright?” Y/N asked suddenly. Remus thought she was referring to his condition. He was visibly gaunt and grey again. She wasn't the first student who had asked.

“As well as I can be.” 

“No.” She said hesitantly. “I mean…you’ve been really distant.” He cast her a side-long gaze, seeing her examining him expectantly. Remus flicked his eyes forward, his brain working in overtime to come up with a response. 

What could he possibly say? You’re the first proper friend I’ve had in about a decade but you’re my student and also you have a crush on me so we can’t be friends? 

“I have reflected on my recent behavior.” He began hesitantly. “And have found it far too lenient and unprofessional. I have been much too friendly.” She scoffed.

“You’re friends with Harry Potter."  Y/N pushed, speeding up to match his long strides. 

“That is different.” 

“You had Neville Longbottom over for tea on Wednesday.”

“That’s-”

“And Luna Lovegood came by to see the Hinkypunk.”

“Well-” She skidded to a halt in front of him, forcing him to stop. She took a deep breath, as if steadying her nerves. 

“I miss being your friend, Professor Lupin.” She said earnestly. “I don't think there's anything wrong with that.” Remus held firm to the little self-restraint still inside him.

“Y/N, we can’t.” 

“Why! Did…did I do something wrong-” 

“No,” Remus said sharply, staring down at her. She fixed him with a deep, imploring look, one that begged for answers. He opened his mouth to continue, but no explanation left his lips. Not one he could voice, anyway. And unable to voice his reasoning, his resolve slipped through his fingers like sand. Y/N watched his face expectantly as his resolution broke. She took his silence for surrender, and a gentle smile crept onto her face.  

“Besides,” she nudged his arm. “Who’s gonna give me my Honeydukes Chocolate if we’re not friends?” They set out slowly down the corridor again, Remus resigned to this, unable (And perhaps unwilling) to fight it anymore.

“Oh, I suspect you have your own means.” Remus thrust his hands in his pockets. He was referring to the secret passageways, which he was convinced she must know about. Y/N shot him a playful smirk and sped up her pace. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She said over her shoulder, in a tone that, despite himself, made Remus grin. 

***

He told himself he was only allowing things to return to what they had been before. Their private sessions grew lighter again, filled with wit and easy laughter. Y/N lingered after lessons, and Remus did nothing to hurry her along. They talked in his office about magic theory, creatures, and books over cups of tea that cooled, forgotten, between them.

One day, they found themselves walking about the blustery winter grounds.

“—and Ludo Bagman’s in the Three Broomsticks nearly every evening now, always tucked into a corner with goblins. And don’t even get me started on what I’ve heard about Moody—”

“I won’t,” Remus said mildly. “I value my peace.”

They walked the length of the lake, frost and dead leaves crunching beneath their boots. The Durmstrang ship loomed to their right, half-frozen in the water like some great, slumbering beast.

Remus glanced at her sidelong. A small sphere of blue flame hovered above his palm, steady and bright. “How, exactly, do you come by all of this information?”

Y/N drifted a little closer to him, near enough to share the warmth of the spell. She shrugged beneath her scarf, a slight smirk just visible. “It pays to be friends with portraits.”

Remus hummed thoughtfully. He wondered if Bagman’s sudden fondness for goblins had anything to do with the way he hovered around Harry like a shipwrecked man clinging to driftwood. Before he could follow the thought, Y/N continued.

“I’ve gotten rather friendly with the one in the side corridor near Transfiguration,” she said. “That middle-aged witch, eighteenth century. Former owner of the Three Broomsticks. Permanently armed with a pint of butterbeer and absolutely no sense of discretion.”

Remus smiled despite himself.

“Fostering connections across magical communities,” he said. “An admirable skill. I admire your diplomacy.”

“Why, thank you, Sir.” She tipped her head with exaggerated gravity. “Now that you mention it, a career in international wizarding relations does sound very enticing.”

“I’m sure the portraits will miss you terribly.” 

She hummed in mild agreement, stooping over slightly to pick up a smooth, oval-shaped rock from the lake bed. Remus watched idly as she turned towards the still lake, grey ripples of sunlight reflected on its surface. She flicked her stone out towards the water, the rock flying from her gloved hand. It only made it a few meters before sinking unceremoniously below the surface, sad little bubbles lingering in its wake. 

“Damn, I never could get the hang of skipping stones.” Remus spotted another rock lying near his feet. Letting the blue flame in his palm flicker out, He bent to pick it up. His back ached as he did so, and he hoped dearly that Y/N didn't notice. He stepped up to the lake shore and threw his own stone. The pair of them watched as it flew in graceful arches, skipping one, two, three times before it sank with a plop. 

Y/N smacked his shoulder playfully. “Show off.” He grinned, remembering summer evenings around the lake. James and Sirius shouting triumphantly along this very shore, arguing over whose throw had counted, who had cheated. 

“I’ll have you know, Miss L/N, you are currently speaking to the rock skipping champion of ‘74.” She snorted. 

“Don’t think I won't go to the trophy room to verify that.” They continued walking, Remus reigniting the blue fire for warmth. A comfortable silence fell over the two. Y/N looked deep in thought, watching a flock of birds fly overhead. 

“Professor,” she began. “There was um… something I wanted to ask you about.” A mixture of trepidation and curiosity filled Remus. 

“Certainly.” He watched her play with the end of her scarf, not meeting his eyes. 

“Professor Dumbledore called me to his office last night.” His stomach dropped. 

“Really?” She nodded.

“He…explained some things to me. A lot of things, actually.” He waited patiently for her to continue. “He talked about my dad, and what he did for the war. Who he worked with.” She finally shot him a knowing glance. Dumbledore must have explained the Order of the Phoenix to her. “He told me he’s prepared for things to start happening again. Like they did before.” 

Remus nodded in what he hoped was a thoughtful manner. “And do you believe him?” 

“Yes.” She said, with no hesitation. “I do.” She paused again, slowing down to a halt. “He wants me to join the fight when the time comes. He thinks I’ll be good. That's why I’ve been training with you.” She stared at him with a curious expression he couldn't place. “But you knew that, didn't you?” 

Remus nodded solemnly. “Yes. I did.” She looked out back over the lake in deep contemplation, the wind tugging at her hair. Remus watched her expectantly. 

“Do you think I should do it?” 

Remus was silent. Panic seized his body. 

“I think,” he began. “That you are incredibly young-” 

“I can’t be much younger than you were when you joined.” No. He thought bleakly. You’re older.

He looked at her properly then. Not as his student, not as his friend, but as another bright thing standing on the edge of something terrible. Intelligent. Loyal. Brave enough to volunteer herself into the fire and skilled enough to do it well.

And all he could see were his ghosts.

“I know nary a witch or wizard during my time with the Order who made it out unscathed. The risks-” 

“You think I don’t know the risks?” She said, her voice deathly quiet. Her arms were crossed, whether for warmth or emotional defense, he knew not. 

Of course, she knew what was at stake, Remus thought. This girl, with a dead father and a broken mother. She felt the repercussions of this fight constantly, even if she had not been there for it.

Remus swallowed. 

He needed to say something concrete. End these dangerous thoughts quickly. Cruelly, if necessary.

“Y/N, in my honest opinion as your instructor, I don't think you have what it takes to join the Order.” He lied.

She looked like someone had punched her in the gut. 

“I would not say this if I did not have your safety and well-being in mind.” She nodded but didn't seem to be listening. He walked forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. She couldn't meet his eyes. “Y/N, I think you are a remarkable witch. And it would be an honor to keep training you. I do agree with Dumbledore that dark times are coming and that you must be prepared. But trust me when I say you are better off staying away from this fight.” 

She took a deep breath. “Ok.” She finally said. “I trust you.” Just then, the clock tower rang, echoing out throughout the castle and over the grounds. “Crap,” she said, already hurrying back towards the castle. “I’ll be late for herbology! Thank you, Professor.” 

Remus waved her off before turning back towards the lake. He stared at the castle rising impossibly high before him. Shame settled heavy in his chest.

He tried to tell himself it was necessary. That it was mercy.

The faces of Lily, James, and Sirius filled his mind. of all these bright, hopeful people he had watched burn out.

Y/N was too good. Too kind.

And selfishly, devastatingly, she was all he had left.

The rain tapped against your window ceaselessly.

You wondered why many people disliked it. You loved it. The constant pitter patter calmed you.

Pulling the comforter closer to your shivering self, you leaned against the large window. You loved sitting near the window and looking at the world beyond the safety of your home. It allowed you to appreciate the beauty of nature, without actually stepping in the mud during the rain, or standing in the scorching heat in summer.

So you watched each drop descend from heaven and make it's journey at a marvelous speed to the parched earth below.

Your eyes wandered to the small group of people standing under a tree for shelter.

They fixated on one particular individual.

You observed his movements, the way he talked animatedly, laughed to some joke cracked by one of the others. You noticed how he seemed to tilt his head to the side whenever he was processing something.

Interesting.

Your doorbell rang.

Sighing, you place your mug of hot chocolate down, and begrudgingly left the comfort of your warm, fuzzy blanket.

Upon opening the door,your eyes met with chocolate brown ones.

"What are you doing here, Osamu?"

He flinched at your harsh tone, the action causing his partially wet locks to bounce a bit.

"Are you not going to let me come in?"

Upon hearing your silence, he pleaded,"Please? I'm soaking and might catch a cold."

Sighing, you let him in.

He removed his wet coat, revealing an almost dry shirt and petticoat.

Hanging it, he walked over to the window, observing the scenery.

"You have such a wonderful eyesight. How do you manage without binoculars?" He wondered aloud.

"Why are you here?"

His gaze turned to you.

"Why can't I be here?"

Trying your best to remain composed, you replied,"Because you can't be here. And you have no reason to be here."

"But I wanted to see my girlfriend.  Is that so wrong?"

"Yes. Because I'm not your girlfriend anymore. "

He walked closer.

"That can change, right?"

Shaking your head, you sighed for the second time since he arrived.

"No, Osamu. You are a member of the ada. You and I can never work."

"They don't have to know."

"It doesn't work that way."

"Are you going to work today?"

"Don't change the topic. "

He smiled and looked back to the world outside.

"I always wondered if the rain affected your work. Or if it was just your merciful state of mind."

You followed his gaze,"No. I can work perfectly fine with rain."

His full attention shifted to you.

"Then why do you never work when it rains?"

You looked at the grey sky, the beautiful sight making you unconsciously smile.

"Because even paid assassins can have mood swings."

He chuckled and held your hand. You let him.

"Come work for us. Become the Armed detective agency's assassin. You are the best in the field, the president will be elated to let you work for him. Please.. I can't live without you.."

You gazed into his eyes and saw the longing, the love and the hope.

Looking outside you spotted the man from earlier. The rain had stopped now, and the sky was clearing up. Your gaze wandered to the sniper set up next to the window.

'That can wait', you thought, as you looked back at the love of your life.

You answered his expectant look with a smile.

"I suppose we can make us work out, after all."

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