Chapter 5
Remus
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Sirius is glowing.
Not just the usual mischievous smirk and bright eyes he wears when he's up to something (which is always), but a softer glow.
Watching him with Cassiopeia and Orion feels... right.
It’s like he’s reclaiming something lost in all those years in Azkaban—joy, family, love.
The kids, of course, adore him.
“Alright, who’s ready to learn how to fly better than Viktor Krum?” Sirius announces, standing in the garden with a broom in one hand and an overconfident grin plastered on his face.
Cassiopeia practically squeals, grabbing her broom from the porch. “I’m already better than him,” she declares.
“Not likely,” Orion counters, rolling his eyes. “You fall off your broom at least once a week.”
“Do not!”
“Do too!” Sirius steps between them, holding up his hands.
“Hey, hey, no bickering. Save your energy for the sky.” He points at Orion. “You—future Quidditch prodigy—show me your best dive.”
Then he turns to Cassiopeia. “And you—tiny menace—let’s see if you can stay on a broom for more than five minutes.” Cassiopeia sticks her tongue out at her brother before mounting her broom and kicking off into the air. I lean back against the fence, watching Sirius coach them with an enthusiasm that borders on childlike.
He’s shouting instructions, miming maneuvers, and occasionally diving to "rescue" Cassiopeia when she wobbles precariously in the air. “Cassie! Lean into the turn!” he calls. “That’s it, brilliant!” “Uncle Sirius,” Orion shouts from above, “watch this!”
He tucks himself low on his broom and performs a steep, controlled dive, pulling up just before he reaches the ground. “That’s my nephew!” Sirius cheers, clapping. Cassiopeia groans. “Show-off.” I can’t help but smile. “You’re good with them, Sirius,” I say, walking over to stand beside him.
He glances at me, a rare softness in his expression. “They’re great kids. They remind me of... well, us.”
“Chaos incarnate?” I tease.
“Exactly.” He grins.
Y/n
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From the kitchen window, I watch the scene unfold with a warm feeling in my chest.
Regulus is sitting at the table, reading one of his endless books, but even he can’t help stealing glances at the garden.
“You’re smiling,” I note, leaning against the counter. “I’m not,” he replies automatically, but the twitch of his lips betrays him.
“You are.” I step closer and nudge him.
“You love seeing him with the kids.” He sighs, setting his book down.
“I do. But it’s strange, Y/n. Having him here. Having them all here.”
“It’s a good strange,” I say, wrapping my arms around his shoulders from behind.
He leans back into me.
“Yeah. It is.”
Sirius
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By the time we’re done with flying lessons, the kids are exhausted but beaming.
Cassiopeia declares herself the new Gryffindor Seeker (despite not actually being in Gryffindor yet), and Orion insists that he could outfly any Slytherin on the current Quidditch team.
As we head back into the house, Cassiopeia tugs on my sleeve. “Uncle Sirius, do you really turn into a dog?” I glance at Remus, who raises an eyebrow as if to say your funeral.
“Of course I do,” I reply with a wink. “Want to see?”
Her eyes widen, and Orion perks up as well.
“Here?” Remus asks, exasperated.
“Why not? They’ve got a right to know how cool I am.”
With a dramatic flourish, I transform into Padfoot. Cassiopeia lets out a delighted squeal, and Orion crouches down to examine me.
Cassiopeia grabs a stick from the yard. “Can we play fetch?” I bark in indignation, which only makes them laugh harder.
When I shift back, I ruffle Orion’s hair. “I don’t play fetch. I have standards, you know.”
“Sure you do,” Remus says dryly, crossing his arms.
Cassiopeia suddenly looks thoughtful. “What about you, Uncle Remus? Do you turn into anything?”
Remus freezes for a moment, and I can see the flicker of unease in his eyes.
Before he can answer, I jump in.
“He’s way cooler than me. He turns into a wolf.”
“Really?” Orion’s eyes go wide.
Remus clears his throat. “It’s... a bit more complicated than that.”
“But you can?” Cassiopeia presses, her excitement uncontainable.
“Yes,” he admits softly. “Can we see?” Orion asks.
“No,” I interject quickly. “That’s not how it works.”
The kids look disappointed, but Remus kneels in front of them, his voice gentle. “It’s something I only do when it’s safe and the right time. But I promise, even if I can’t show you, it doesn’t mean I’m not proud of it.”
Cassiopeia nods solemnly. “That’s okay. You’re still the coolest uncle, too.”
I gasp dramatically. “Excuse me?”
The kids burst into laughter, and even Remus can’t help but smile.
Y/n
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Later that evening, after dinner and a few more rounds of Sirius’ antics, the kids are tucked into bed, and the house feels quiet again.
As I curl up next to Regulus on the sofa, I glance out the window, where Sirius and Remus are sitting together under the stars, talking in hushed voices.
“You’re glad they came, aren’t you?” I ask softly. Regulus doesn’t answer right away, but when he does, his voice is steady.
“Yeah. I am.”
And for the first time in years, it feels like everything might just be okay.