IHOP
The rain came down in sheets, turning the streets into rivers of glistening water. By the time Sirius and Remus reached St. Mungo’s, their shoes were soaked, and their clothes clung uncomfortably to their skin.
Inside, the chaos was palpable. The waiting room was packed, buzzing with a cacophony of voices—worried parents, exhausted nurses, and the occasional loud crash of a gurney being wheeled past. The fluorescent lights flickered slightly, casting a faint, eerie glow over the scene.
Sirius took one look around and scowled. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. He strode toward the desk, his short legs carrying him past rows of people slumped in chairs.
The nurse behind the desk barely looked up. “Take a number,” she said, pointing to a dispenser on the wall.
“A number?” Sirius barked. “We’re not here for a sprained ankle! We’re looking for a child—a baby! His name is Harry James Potter, and he came in hours ago!”
The nurse frowned, clearly unimpressed by Sirius’ tone. “Sir, there's tons of people looking for their family members, we’re doing the best we can—”
Before Sirius could explode, Remus grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
“Stop it,” Remus hissed, his voice low but firm. “You don’t get to yell at the people trying to save lives right now. Show some respect.”
Sirius opened his mouth to argue but was silenced by the sharp look Remus shot him. Defeated, he stepped back, crossing his arms and muttering something unintelligible under his breath.
Remus approached the desk himself, his posture calm but deliberate. He leaned slightly on his cane, his voice softer and more measured than Sirius’.
“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m looking for a nurse named Madam Pomfrey. I think she might still work here.”
The nurse blinked, taken aback by the name of the nurse who was a legend there. “Madam Pomfrey?”
“Yes. I spent a lot of time here a few years ago, and she was… well, she was wonderful.”
The nurse’s face softened, and she gestured toward a phone. “I’ll page her. Wait here.”
A few minutes later, a stern looking woman in a crisp white uniform bustled into the room. Her eyes immediately landed on Remus, and her face cracked into a warm smile, her eyes wrinkling at the sides.
“Remus Lupin,” she said, her tone affectionate. “I was hoping it wouldn’t be you in need of help tonight.”
“It’s good to see you, Madam Pomfrey,” Remus said, managing a small smile. “Though I wish it were under different circumstances.”
Her expression shifted, concern creasing her brow. “What’s happened?”
“We’re looking for a child,” Remus explained. “Harry James Potter. He came in earlier tonight. He’s... he’s just a baby.”
Pomfrey’s face softened further, and she nodded. “I’ll have someone take you to him. Wait here.” She motioned for a younger nurse nearby, murmured something in her ear, and returned to pat Remus gently on the shoulder. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Remus’ throat tightened, but he nodded.
The younger nurse led them down a series of sterile hallways, her footsteps echoing faintly against the tiles. When they reached a quiet room tucked away from the noise of the ER, she stopped and gestured inside.
Harry lay in a small crib, his tiny chest rising and falling with each soft breath. His cheek was pressed against the pillow, one fist curled near his mouth. A harsh bruise marked his forehead, but otherwise, he looked unharmed.
Remus let out a shaky breath, his knees nearly giving way beneath him. Sirius, meanwhile, crossed the room in two long strides, leaning over the crib and resting his hand lightly on Harry’s back.
“He’s okay,” Sirius whispered, his voice trembling. “He’s okay.”
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then Remus stepped forward, brushing past Sirius to scoop Harry gently into his arms. The baby stirred but didn’t wake, his small head resting against Remus’ shoulder.
Remus’ breath hitched, and he pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s hair. “We’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’re safe now.”
Sirius watched, his jaw tightening as he fought back tears. After a few moments, Remus handed Harry to him. Sirius held the boy close, his arms cradling him protectively.
“You scared the hell out of me, kiddo,” Sirius whispered, his voice breaking.
The two men took turns holding Harry, their grief momentarily softened by the warmth of his small, steady presence. Nurses came and went, checking on Harry and offering quiet condolences to Remus.
One nurse lingered a moment longer than the others, smiling warmly at Remus. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Lupin,” she said. “Though I wish it were under happier circumstances.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow as the nurse left, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So, all the nurses know you, huh?”
Remus rolled his eyes. “I spent months here, almost a year after an accident I had a few years back. Even then I kept coming back for you know” he motioned with his head the general direction of his bad knee. “physical therapy and all.”
Sirius in fact did not know. It was obvious Remus used a cane most of the time. It was something you noticed after years of knowing someone, he had once even seen him in a wheelchair but he'd never dared to ask more than the information he was given. He had asked James once and Lily too but all they had said was that it was a vehicle accident and to talk to Remus himself, something he never dared to do. But now that he thought of it Remus must feel even worse reliving the past and all.
The boy´s voice pulled him out of his thoughts “They’re lovely people, Sirius. Nurses are the best. Although, and in case it isn’t obvious, I don’t swing that way.”
Sirius smirked, despite the heaviness in the air. “Could’ve fooled me with all that charm.”
Remus huffed, shaking his head, but there was a faint smile on his lips.
Eventually, Harry was settled back into his crib, and the two men slumped into the small chairs by the bedside. The room was dim, the sound of rain pattering softly against the window.
“Do you think he knows?” Sirius asked quietly.
Remus glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “He’s too young to understand. But he’ll feel it. Kids always feel it.”
Sirius let the words sink in. They sat in silence, the weight of the night pressing down on them. For now, though, they were together, and Harry was safe. And that had to be enough.
The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the hospital room's thin curtains. Remus stirred first, blinking against the pale glow. His neck ached from the awkward angle he’d slept in, and his back protested as he shifted in the stiff chair. Sirius was slumped in the chair beside him, his leather jacket draped haphazardly over both himself and the crib, as if shielding Harry even in his sleep.
A gentle knock on the door roused them fully. A nurse entered, her smile kind but professional.
“Good morning,” she said softly. “Harry can be discharged into your care temporarily. Social services will handle the rest of the arrangements, but for now, he’ll stay with you.”
Sirius sat up, groggy but alert. “Temporarily?”
The nurse nodded. “It’s standard procedure. Once social services has reviewed the situation, they’ll decide on long-term custody. Since both of you were listed as godparents, you’ll likely be prioritized.”
Remus rubbed at his eyes, nodding. “Thank you. What do we need to do?”
“Just sign the paperwork at the desk, and you’ll be free to go.”
It didn’t take long for them to gather their things, Sirius carefully bundling Harry in the blanket a nurse handed him. He blinked sleepily, babbling, still too young to understand the weight of what was happening around him. Sirius carried him and Remus signed whatever was necessary. After that they were free. For the moment.
In the hurricane of everything Remus needed order and the two adults needed food, so he directed Sirius into his car and drove them to the nearest restaurant he could find. That just happened to be an IHOP. They were both exhausted neither having been able to truly sleep.
The smell of syrup and butter filled the air as they slid into a booth. Harry sat quietly in the carrier between them, occasionally babbling or batting at the blanket draped over his tiny legs.
Remus ordered coffee—black, strong, and scalding. Sirius, still half-asleep, pointed lazily at the menu and muttered something about pancakes.
For the first ten minutes, neither of them spoke. They sipped their drinks, stared at the table, and tried to ignore the ache settling into their chests.
Finally, Sirius broke the silence. “So, what’s the plan? We need one and I'm guessing you have one”
Remus sighed, his fingers wrapped tightly around his coffee cup. “I don’t know. I guess… figure out what Harry needs for a couple of days. Formula, diapers, clothes—”
“Yeah, but beyond that,” Sirius interrupted, his voice quieter now. “What are we supposed to do? Just… act like everything’s fine? A family member dies, and it’s not like the movies where everything’s suddenly resolved in twenty minutes.”
Remus snorted softly. “No, it’s not. Nothing about this is easy.”
They both stared at Harry, who let out a tiny yawn before falling back asleep in his carrier.
“I guess we’ll take it one step at a time,” Remus said finally. “Start with the basics and figure out the rest as we go.”
“I guess we’ll take it one step at a time,” Remus said finally. “Start with the basics and figure out the rest as we go.”
Sirius nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. He stared down at the table, drumming his fingers lightly against the edge of his coffee cup.
“Where are we even going after this?” Sirius asked after a moment. His voice was quieter now, hesitant.
Remus glanced at him, his own coffee untouched. “My place. It’s close by, and… well, it’s got a spare room. We can figure out where Harry’s going to sleep and sort everything else out from there.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Your place, huh? Bit domestic of you, isn’t it?”
Remus shot him a tired look. “It’s practical. And I’d rather not spend the next few hours trying to come up with a better plan when I already have a crib at my place.”
Sirius tilted his head. “You have a crib?” He seemed more impressed than teasing.
Remus shrugged, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Lily insisted. It's one of those travel ones you can fold. She said Harry might need somewhere to nap when I babysat while they had “date night”. I didn’t think it’d ever actually get used.”
The mention of Lily hung in the air between them, heavy and unspoken. Sirius’ gaze softened, and he nodded. “Alright. Your place it is.”
The waitress returned with their food then, setting down a steaming plate of pancakes in front of Sirius and a small plate of eggs and toast for Remus. Neither of them moved to eat immediately, the smell doing little to spark their appetites.
Sirius picked up his fork and poked at the pancakes, cutting a perfect triangle but making no move to eat it. “This feels wrong,” he muttered.
“What does?” Remus asked, though he suspected he already knew.
“Everything.” Sirius gestured vaguely around the room. “Sitting here, eating pancakes, talking about cribs… it’s like the universe forgot to tell me the rules changed overnight. Like the world should’ve stopped or something, you know? Like James and Lily di— they´re gone and the universe didn´t stop to grieve them.”
Remus looked at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, picking up his fork. “It does feel wrong,” he admitted, pushing a piece of egg around his plate. “But it hasn’t stopped. The world keeps moving whether we’re ready or not. I know I´m not ready to move on or face anyone but you, and that way at least I can keep pretending it isn't true for a little while longer.”
Sirius leaned back in his seat, his fork clattering against the plate. “I don’t know if I can do this Moony.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Remus said quietly. His tone wasn’t unkind, but it carried a weight Sirius couldn’t ignore. “Neither of us does.”
They lapsed into silence again, the sound of the bustling restaurant filling the void. Remus took a sip of his coffee, bitter and scalding, and winced. Sirius didn’t touch his pancakes, opting instead to stir the syrup into a small, sticky puddle on his plate.
After a while, Remus glanced at Harry, now sleeping soundly in his carrier. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, more to himself than to Sirius.
Sirius let out a soft huff, almost a laugh. “You keep saying that, and I keep waiting to believe it.”
Remus gave him a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe I’m just trying to convince myself.”
The waitress came by again, asking if they wanted anything else. Both shook their heads, muttering polite refusals.
“I’ll get the check,” Sirius said, pulling out his wallet.
“You don’t have to—”
“I’ve got it, Moony,” Sirius interrupted, giving him a pointed look. “Call it my contribution to… whatever the hell this is.”
Remus didn’t argue, letting Sirius pay as he gathered their things. They stepped out into the brisk morning air, the smell of rain still lingering from the storm.
The drive to Remus’ apartment was quiet. Sirius glanced out the window, his thoughts swirling, while Remus kept his eyes fixed on the road.
When they arrived, Sirius stepped inside and immediately froze. He glanced around, taking in the small but cozy space—the bookshelves overflowing with worn spines, the record player tucked neatly in the corner, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air.
“You’ve lived here for how long?” Sirius asked, his tone incredulous.
“Four years,” Remus replied, setting Harry’s carrier on the couch.
“And I’ve never been here?” Sirius shook his head, wandering over to the bookshelves. He ran a finger along the spines, muttering titles under his breath. “Dostoevsky, Austen, Tolkien… Do you even read anything that doesn’t make you cry?”
Remus rolled his eyes, heading to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
Sirius moved to the record player next, flipping through the vinyls. “Fleetwood Mac? Bowie? The Smiths? Alright, at least your taste in music isn’t completely pretentious.”
“Sirius, do you have a point, or are you just here to criticize my interior design choices?” Remus called from the kitchen.
Sirius smirked, plopping down on the couch. “Just saying, Moony. You’re a mystery wrapped in a cardigan.”
Remus took Sirius a cup of coffee, he was sure the other man wasn't going to finish, sitting next to him on his worn out couch.
“We need a plan,” he said firmly. “Neither of us has slept properly in almost twenty-four hours. You need to go back for your motorcycle at some point, but we should also call everyone to let them know what’s happened.”
Sirius nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. First, we sleep. Then I’ll head to the precinct and grab my bike. Once I’m back, we can… I don’t know, call everyone together. Tell them everything at once.”
“Agreed.”
Sirius stood, stretching lazily. “So, who gets the shower first?”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “Considering you still smell like the hospital and rain, you can go first.”
Sirius smirked, saluting mockingly. “Yes, sir.”
Sirius stood, stretching lazily. “So, who gets the shower first?”
Remus raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk. “Considering you still smell like the hospital and rain, you can go first.”
Sirius saluted mockingly. “Yes, sir.”
But as he turned toward the hall, he hesitated, glancing back at Remus. “Uh, where am I going exactly? Not my house, remember?”
Remus sighed, setting his mug down and getting to his feet. “Follow me.”
He led Sirius down the narrow hallway, stopping at the door to the guest room. Pushing it open, he gestured inside. “Fresh towels are in here. Take one.”
Sirius stepped inside, glancing around the room. It was small but neat, the bed made with simple gray sheets and a folded quilt at the end. A small shelf held a few books and what looked like a jar of lavender oil.
“Very minimalist,” Sirius quipped, grabbing a towel from the small cabinet.
“It’s a guest room, not a hotel,” Remus replied dryly, motioning for him to follow again.
They continued to the end of the hallway, where Remus pushed open another door. “The only full bathroom is inside my bedroom,” he said, stepping aside to let Sirius in.
Sirius entered, his eyes immediately wandering over the space. The room was cozy, much like the rest of the apartment. Before his eyes could wander much Remus chastised him into the bathroom.
There were candles everywhere, and a half-burned one sat on the sink next to a small stack of books. The faint scent of lavender and eucalyptus lingered in the air.
His gaze landed on a bottle of red wine sitting beside the tub, a glass perched next to it. Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Been having spa nights, Moony?”
Remus grabbed the wine and glass. “It was for a bath. Before… everything.”
Sirius tilted his head, smirking. “A bath, huh? Very fancy. Didn’t know you were so indulgent.”
Remus ignored the jab, turning to leave. “Cold water, left knob. Hot water, right. Shampoo and soap are on the ledge. You’ll figure it out.”
Remus quickly left. As Sirius looked around his eyes landed on a row of pill bottles lined neatly on a shelf above the sink. His smirk faded, replaced by a flicker of concern. He didn’t say anything, though, just reached for the hem of his shirt.
As Sirius pulled his shirt over his head, Remus walked back in with a clean shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. He froze mid-step, his eyes catching on the broad planes of Sirius’ back.
“Uh, sorry,” Remus stammered, looking away quickly.
Sirius turned, shirtless and grinning. “What’s the matter, Moony? Like you haven’t seen me shirtless before? Forget the group trip to Cancun already?”
Remus rolled his eyes, tossing the clothes onto the counter. “Cancun was years ago, and I’m trying to forget most of it.”
Sirius laughed as he grabbed the sweatpants, holding them up. “These are yours? They’ll barely stay on me!”
“They’ll do,” Remus shot back, already retreating toward the door.
With one last glance at Sirius, Remus left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He carried the wine and glass back to the kitchen, setting them in the sink. As he leaned against the counter for a moment, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
Remus walked back to the couch, his eyes drifting to Harry. The baby’s soft breathing was the only sound in the room, a tiny reminder of the fragile life now in their care.