Memories of the Heart || Harry Potter x Reader

Y3 ~ Miss Pretty

The late afternoon sun bathed the Hogwarts grounds in a soft, golden hue as Harry and Y/N made their way to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The air was cool, leaves rustling gently in the breeze, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and earth. Ahead, Professor Lupin sat on a large rock, his weathered cloak draped around him, blending with the dappled shadows of the forest. A walking cane rested beside him, a reminder of his most recent injury. Yet despite his physical weariness, a quiet strength emanated from him.

As Harry and Y/N approached, Lupin's gaze lifted, a flicker of nostalgia crossing his face. His eyes lingered on Harry for a moment, but when they landed on Y/N, something deeper stirred. There was a subtle sadness in his expression—an emotion carefully veiled but present in the way he looked at her, as if seeing someone long lost. His lips twitched into a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ah, Y/N," he called out, rising slowly, favoring his cane for support. "Just the person I've been wanting to see." His voice was warm, carrying a hint of eagerness, though Y/N couldn't help but notice the slight tremble as he stood. A knot of curiosity and unease tightened in her chest.

Harry walked beside her, his hands stuffed into his pockets, shooting her a supportive glance. "He's been talking about this for weeks," Harry murmured, and Y/N gave him a nervous smile.

As Y/N approached, she offered a smile, "Good afternoon, Professor," Y/N greeted, her voice polite but unsure. Her eyes briefly darted to the surrounding forest before returning to Lupin. "Harry mentioned you wanted to speak to me... about my family?"

Lupin flinched inwardly, the word professor striking deeper than he had expected. Though he maintained a calm exterior, the formality in her voice—her seeing him as just another professor—pinged his heart with an unexpected ache. For a fleeting moment, he felt the distance between them more acutely than ever. She didn't know. How could she? He never gave her the opportunity. But hearing her address him with such formality, as if there was no history between them, reminded him of just how much she had lost—and how much he wished he could turn back time.

He forced himself to remain composed, but the pang lingered, as if the word "professor" had created an invisible wall for Lupin—one that he was powerless to tear down.

Lupin nodded, stepping closer, his eyes softening as they met hers. "Yes, indeed. I've heard from Harry about your difficulties uncovering information about your heritage. It's... time you knew more." His gaze shifted to Harry for a moment, as if drawing strength from his presence. "Thank you for bringing her here, Harry."

"Of course, Professor," Harry said, his voice filled with curiosity. He gave Y/N a reassuring smile. "I'm curious too, you know. Hope you don't mind me listening in, Y/N."

"Not at all," Y/N replied, her voice soft but sincere. "You're my best friend, Harry. I wouldn't want anyone else here."

Lupin smiled faintly at their exchange, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—an emotion Y/N couldn't quite place. Nostalgia, perhaps? Or something else... guilt?

"Your mother's name," Lupin began slowly, as if weighing every word, "was Emily Nightengale. She was one of the brightest witches of her time... and Lily Potter's best friend." His voice was tinged with reverence, but a sadness lingered just beneath the surface. He drew closer, his eyes darting between Harry and Y/N as if seeing ghosts from another time.

Y/N's breath hitched. She looked at Harry, who seemed equally taken aback. "My mother knew your mother?" she whispered, incredulous.

Harry blinked, his brows furrowed. "I never knew..."