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Time took the marauders back to Hogwarts and allowed no time for a single thought to cross Remus Lupins mind that wasn't exam related.

With the Quidditch cup finals approaching, this meant the school was buzzing with anticipation and excitement. The match, was of course between Slytherin and Quidditch, Aveline able to ignore the jealously in her chest of pure excitement for James.

Of course, she was cheering for Gryffindor and when the day of the match arrived she was tucked into the boys dorm room, Remus's head in her lap as she painted a lion on his cheek.

"Stop moving!" She complained, holding his head steady in her hands. "This is like painting a toddler."

"The paint is cold," he bickered back , and Aveline rolled her eyes in a very Sirius like fashion.

"You poor baby. Do you want me to light a fire and warm the paint just for your skin princess?" She argued back, and a dangerous grin flickered over his face.

"Yes," he deadpanned.

As Aveline rolled her eyes again, before continuing to paint she heard Remus let out a genuine laugh, and she fought the urge to smile at it.

Everyday Remus seemed to be getting better, yet still she could see the grief that lingered in his eyes when he thought no one was looking. His friends tried to keep life as normal as possible for him, they didn't walk on egg shells around him but made sure they checked in on him when the timing was appropriate.

Aveline had taken to writing Lyall every couple days to check in with him, the stubborn man living alone in Lupin cottage.  Remus and Lyall hadn't spoken since the funeral, which though wasn't long ago was an abnormal amount of time for the Lupin men to go without a letter between them.

Though Aveline didn't want to intrude, every time she brought it up with Remus he'd shrug and brush her off, perhaps mutter something under his breathe that he'd write the man a letter tomorrow— a promise he never fulfilled.

It was as if with Hopes passing, a wall was built between the two men in which neither party knew how to dismantle it .

Perhaps it was due to the fact Remus eyes took the man back to his grief, or the fact that Remus had never known his father without his mother, but it seemed it was easier for both to run from their relationship as if not facing it would heal their wounds faster.

Remus was watching Aveline's concentrated face, taking in the scrunch of her freckled nose and the way the way her breathe and hair tickled him where it touched. The opal necklace  was dangling  from her chest in his face, and he found his fingers moving to play with it.

The boy suddenly sat up, messing up Aveline's paint.

"The paint! Lupin if you don't sit back down—"

He cut her off by closing the space between them and laying a kiss so delicately on her lips she was shocked by the softness of the action. This was different then the usual way he kissed her, this was sincere, from a place of so much love it made her cheeks flush a deep red, and as he pulled away staring in her eyes , Aveline wasn't sure what to say— her brain suddenly spiraling in a storm of pink lights and fireworks.

"Well now the lion is really going to be messed up," she said, overcome with awkwardness by the silence and attempting to fill it with her ramble words. "I better fix that lion, the game is in like —"

"Aveline," his voice was gentle like pouring warm honey out of a bottle into a cup of tea.

"—30 minutes, and we better leave in 15 so—

The Sun and Her Moon- Remus LupinWhere stories live. Discover now