Chapter Text
t's honestly insane how much someone can talk without knowing what they are talking about. They can go on and on about something that doesn't interest themselves or their poor victim. Tonight, from midnight to 4 am, it seemed like one of the boys' dormitories could not stop blathering about what they did during the summer holidays, and it was sort of obvious who that room belonged to.
Finally, I’d had enough. With a sigh that was part exasperation and part resignation, I swung my legs over the bed and padded over to my desk. A quill and a piece of parchment were my weapons of choice in this silent war. A terse note was quickly composed, its message as clear as the moonlight streaming through my window. Phoebe, my faithful owl, was coaxed awake with promises of extra treats and dispatched on her urgent mission.
𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘚𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘶𝘴, 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳,
𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘯𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘮.
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵.
𝘊𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦
To my astonishment, the noise subsided almost immediately. A wave of relief washed over me as I snuggled back into bed, the soft hush of the castle a welcome change. But my triumph was short-lived.
tap tap tap
I groaned, and cursed quietly. Did one of them seriously send an owl to my room? I got off my bed slowly, already missing the comfort of my blanket. I walked over to my window, yawning tiredly, and opened it as if it was the most difficult task on Earth. I looked at the tawny owl, with feathers a bit more disheveled than Phoebes, and gave him a tiny nod before grabbing the piece of paper in its beak. I closed the window as the owl flew away, and I began reading what was written on the paper.
𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘊𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦,
𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺! 𝘞𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦. (PS: 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘚𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺)
-𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘴
A wry smile crept across my face. So, they had finally noticed. A sense of satisfaction mingled with amusement. Perhaps they were not entirely without conscience after all. A small sentence written on the back of the paper caught my eye: "𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘯 𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺. 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘦."
A chocolate bribe? It was a tempting offer. With a contented sigh, I curled up under the covers, the promise of hot chocolate and a peaceful morning filling my mind.
The promise of a chocolate bar was enough to sweeten my mood considerably. As the first rays of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, I prepared for my day. The prospect of seeing Remus, and perhaps, the other Marauders, filled me with a mix of anticipation and social anxiety.
Herbology class was a welcome distraction from the events of the night. As I tended to my Mandrake, I couldn't help but think about the upcoming encounter. Would it be awkward? Would they tease me mercilessly? Or perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for a genuine apology.
As the class went on, a familiar figure approached me. Remus stood there, a sheepish grin on his face. He held out a wrapped chocolate bar. “For the noise,” he mumbled, his cheeks slightly pink.
I took the chocolate, a silent acknowledgment of his apology. “Thanks,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. There was a comfortable silence between us, broken only by the rustling of plants.
“The boys are really sorry,” Remus continued, his voice low. “Sirius and James can be...well, themselves.”
A warm feeling spread through me. It was unexpected, a flicker of something akin to gratitude. “I appreciate it,” I managed to say, my voice still a bit shaky. “I know they didn’t mean any harm.”
Remus nodded, a look of relief crossing his face. “It’s just, they can get carried away sometimes,” he explained. “I’m glad you didn’t send a Howler.”
I chuckled. “I considered it,” I admitted. “But I thought a handwritten note would be more effective.”
as we continued to carefully manipulate the delicate Mandrake roots, a comfortable silence settled between us. It was a world away from the cacophony of the night before. I stole a glance at Remus, catching him mid-thought, his brow furrowed in concentration. As our eyes met, a flicker of panic crossed his face, followed by a hesitant smile.
"Thanks for the chocolate," I said softly, breaking the silence. "It was a thoughtful gesture."
A faint blush crept up his neck as he nodded. "It's the least I could do. I told them they owed you big time."
A playful glint entered my eyes. "Big time, huh? I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted that they think a chocolate bar can erase a night of sleep deprivation."
Remus chuckled, a genuine, carefree sound that filled the greenhouse. "Trust me, I know exactly how you feel. They can be a pain sometimes."
As we continued our work, a sense of friendship blossomed between us. There was an undeniable warmth to Remus, a quiet intelligence that peeked through his usual laid-back demeanor. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Marauders weren't as one-dimensional as I'd always believed.