❁ʙᴜᴛᴛᴇʀᴄᴜᴘ - ʀ.ᴊ.ʟ❁

ᴏɴᴇ sʜᴏᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

{And i'm back already with a short One Shot one from way earlier in the book when Remus and Willow had met up in the Christmas Holidays! Hope you like it!! <33}

𝕽emus sighs, collapsing onto his bed heavily, flattening his hand against his fast beating heart, wondering if it will ever slow down again.

He's just gotten back home walking Willow back to her cottage a little way away from his after they had spent the entire afternoon together in town and just hanging out on their own in the Christmas holidays. And now it's safe to say soft pearly hair and bright heterochromic eyes is on his mind.

They'd laughed until their ribs were sore and their cheeks burned with aching pains, talked with no means to an end from the most eccentric, odd conversations he doubts he could have with anyone else to normal teenager ones he could have with their friends at Hogwarts.

They had even gone as far as pretended to be a couple after a wrinkled elderly lady approached them with a nostalgic smile, asking how long they had been courting and how they make a lovely couple reminding her of herself and late husband. Couple. Him and Willow, Willow and him, together romantically. Fucking Merlin.

Slowly, he reaches into his pocket, unfolding the photograph he'd managed to take of her across from him in the quaint muggle cafè they brimmed with warmth from their hot chocolate. His honeycomb eyes felt heavy lidded, a soft smile gracing across his lips soaking in her every feature, from the dimples denting her warm cheeks, those crinkles by her eyes when she smiled cheesy and broad for him, the glorious echoes of her happy laughter ringing in his mind still.

"I think i'd battle any dragon for you, even a big green one" He whispers, swallowing down the lump englarging up his throat, thumb brushing against the side of her face on the photograph, his mind whispering over and over almost like a thought consuming chant — Willow. Willow. Willow. Willow. Willow.

He groaned loudly, throwing his head back into the pillows, desperate not to get stuck in the dark, endless pit of aimless pining over someone who's certainly much better deserving than him. The photograph is glued to his hands, begging and pleading with him to look again until it's burned and locked into his memory in a length of time that surpasses forever.

There's something going on between her and Nott still even though he knows that Nott's a manipulative, sly snake who's act of treating her nicely so far will crumble into the person he truly is. That kiss he forced on her at the platform was just a sliver of the future.

His stomach churns and his fists clench and unclench at the thought, wanting nothing more than to sprint back towards her cottage on this late hour on Christmas Eve, insisting when they get back to Hogwarts to break up with Nott. But then what does he do? Tell her he has all of these jittery and sunny feelings inside brewing for her every time he's in her heavenly presence? She'll think he's a freak — more than he already is.

"Fuck sake" He grunts irritably, standing up off his bed and beginning to pace up and down the floors of his bedroom, the fairy lights twinkling around the edges, creating a warm glow, the lights she really likes. He swears his heart is thudding in sync with the chants now, growing louder and louder — Willow. Willow. Willow. Willow. Willow. Willow.

Before he'a realising it, there's a piece of sticky tape in his hand, photograph in the others, fixing it on the free space on his dark grey wall besides the door. The other walls, they're filled with the Marauders, his parents, family — she couldn't go on there, hers needs to be separate, placed in a special way for as special as he feels for having this photograph himself.

There's a gentle knock on the door, cracking open carefully to reveal his mum, green eyes darting between him and the photograph in both of their views he happens to be faced, her eyebrows raising up her forehead when she realises it is indeed the same being that was over for dinner a couple of days earlier and the same being he's been hanging out with today.

"Oh, are you practicing chatting her up?" Hope teasingly questions, smiling toothily when her son grumbled, cheeks tinting pink as he tears his honeycomb eyes away from the photograph of Willow and on to her, remarking,

"No of course not, I'd just stuck it on the wall when you came in. You know, like I do with all of my photographs"

Hope nodded her head, glancing over to where there was still plenty of space on his other camera filled walls, places where the one of this pretty girl who's just a friend she now knows as Willow could gone. His lie isn't exactly plausible, both of them knew that, but she decides not to prod any further, especially when she takes in his expression when he locks eyes back on the photograph.

From being his mother, she'd gained that motherly instinct and gut feeling other mothers around the world are automatically familiar with when they have a child of their own. Hope's able to comprehend each facial expression of Remus' to decipher what emotion he's feeling.

And this rosy cheeked, soft heart eyed one he's displaying right now, she's absolutely certain that her boy is completely smitten with Willow.

"I was wondering if you want to put the carrots and mince pie out for the fireplace?" She quizzes, heart swelling massively when he hums gently, nodding his head just once.

She's not sure what they do in the Wizarding World when it comes to Christmas traditions, but even at fifteen if he wants to put out the treats for Father Christmas and the reindeer like they do in the muggle world, that makes her very happy.

"Okay, I'll just give you a minute, dad's stirring some hot chocolate" She informs him softly, turning to leave when she heard him inhale deeply and call her back hesitantly, her head tilting in question, waiting patiently when he breathes,

"She um — what does it mean if — if a girl calls you — cute?"

Remus gulped thickly, biting down on his nails to hide the blush prickling his skin with heart from his question, his mum staying quiet for a while, looking between both him and the photograph thoughtfully. He scratches the back of his neck, then stuffing both hands into his pockets awkwardly, whispering just audibly,

"D-does that mean — that there's a possibility they could, you know, like you?"

"Oh my sweet boy" She murmurs, stepping into the bedroom and caressing his his cheek lovingly, containing the thrill and excitement buzzing inside, understanding that beautiful, angelic Willow had called him cute on their unofficial date, "How would you mean it if you called a pretty girl, cute?"

He blinks at her silently, indestructible knots tying up the emotions swimming around the deep seas of his chest. It means the same for boys as it does for girls? So that meant Willow means she thinks he—

"Did Willow, just your friend, call you cute, Remus?" She questions, rubbing his arms in a motherly manner, watching him look from her towards the photograph again, chewing the inside of his cheek with a fluttering heart, confessing quietly with the ghost of a smile,

"Yeah, yeah she did"

"Well atleast you know she's not a liar, you're very handsome" Hope declares, tugging him down to peck his cheek, a chuckle emitting from his mouth, muttering to both himself and her, "She's just a friend"

"Alright, love. Let's go and set up for tonight then, are you excited?"

"Oh very much so, mum" He replies gently, feeling a strong surge of affection that his mum still wants to keep the Christmas magic alive for him even though he knows the truth and knows what happens — it turns out not even Santa can take away lycanthropy.

He pauses by the doorway on the way out, his mum carrying on back down the stairs of the cottage down to where the delicious scent of hot chocolate was lingering around. His thumb lightly strokes over her face once more, revelling in the comfort blooming in his chest, whispering before he closed the door,

"I think you're cute too, Willow"

•1390 words•