Inwardly urgent

Remus, preparing for the first full moon of the year.

Taken by a worried James.

mrsdeatheater:

“Don’t you dare—don’t you dare blame my husband!” said Narcissa, in a low and deadly voice.

“Yes, I knew him,” [Lupin] said shortly. “Or I thought I did. You’d better be off, Harry, it’s getting late.”

Is there a remedy for waiting for loves victorious return?
Is there a remedy for hating every second that Im without you?