🌙 REMUS LUPIN X READER ONESHOTS

sweater weather

I feel a chill run down my spine as a draft passes through the room. The fire blazes at my side, and yet I can’t seem to shake the chill of the coming autumn. I tuck my feet into the crack between the cushion and the armrest of my chair, huddling closer to the plush fabric, trying to keep warm as my eyes scan the pages of the book in my hands. But after reading the same paragraph for the tenth time and absorbing none of it, I give up.

I mark my page in the book, and crawl toward the boys dormitory. If there is one place to get a sweater, it’s from my boyfriend. I climb the stairs to the room he shares with his three best friends and don’t even pause to knock before opening the door, knowing fully well that the boys are in Hogsmeade for the afternoon.

I pry open the heavy lid of his trunk, and my nose is filled with the wonderful scent of cinnamon and apples that seems to be on everything around him. Under the lid, I find his impeccably organized belongings inside and a stack of four sweaters sitting on top. I immediately go for the grey one with blue embroidery, remembering how soft and cozy it was from the last time he wore it. It’s at the bottom of the stack and as I rifle through, I notice that the other three are in various states of disrepair. The knitting on two has started to unravel, while the other looks like it’s shrunk in the wash. A huff escapes my lips as I look over the sweaters. I carefully fold them anyway and replace them inside the trunk, and then pull the grey sweater on over my shirt, grab my book and head back to the girls dormitory.

I hear voices as I approach my own bedroom door, and recognize them as belonging to Marlene, Alice, and Lily.

“Knock knock,” I announce as I enter the room, immediately crossing to Lily’s bed and plopping down next to her.

“You know, saying ‘knock knock’ doesn’t actually count as knocking,” Marlene laughs from her bed, adjacent to Lily’s.

“Whatever, it’s my room, too,” I say.

“Is that Remus’s?” Alice asks, eyeing the sweater.

“Yep,” I reply, wrapping my arms around myself, and inhaling the scent of cinnamon. “Seems to be his only good one left, I almost feel bad for stealing it.”

“Emphasis on the ‘almost,’” Lily teases. And then an idea comes to me.

“Alice, you know how to knit, don’t you?”

“Yeah, why?”

I smile at her as a plan formulates in my brain.

Hours pass and Marlene, Lily, Alice, and I are completely surrounded by yarn of varying colors and textures, maroons and dark greens strewn across the floor, and our handiwork sits in the middle of our circle. Luckily for us, Alice had all of her crafting supplies stashed under her bed. It took about an hour for Lily and I to get the hang of the knitting, whereas Marlene gave up after about six minutes and has now put herself in charge of criticizing our work.

“(Y/N), he’s going to love these so much,” Lily says over her clanking knitting needles.

I smile, looking down at the dark navy sweater I’ve been working on, and then look back up at them. “I’m not sure I want to tell him it was us.”

Marlene laughs from her spot on her bed. “What, you want him to just happen upon them and think that the elves brought them for him?”