You Could Be My Baby

Halloween dawned grey and drizzly. Remus had booked it off work weeks ago, and had spent the last few days genuinely agonising over his costume. Harry was only five, and likely wouldn’t remember this in a few years, but when Remus was five he hadn’t had adults who cared about him, or who put effort into making him happy, and he knew how lonely it felt. He might only be Harry’s neighbour, but he was going to make as much effort as he could.

In the end, he dug out last year’s costume, when he and Gran had gone as the big bad wolf and the grandma from little red riding hood. It was squashed down at the bottom of one of several cardboard boxes he hadn’t unpacked yet, because it was all Gran’s stuff. All those boxes he had piled up in the corner of the master bedroom. The smell of her perfume engulfed him when he opened the box, and rifling through her clothes to get to the costumes at the bottom made his heart hurt.

That halloween had been a good one. Gran had been playing bingo at the community centre with some other elderly people, and the centre was hosting a halloween get-together. Remus had volunteered to help out, and the two of them had spent days settling on a costume. Then Gran had gone out and bought the fabric, sewing herself a bonnet and matching apron, and sewing Remus proper old-fashioned style trousers, with patches on the knees and pockets. Remus had gone out and bought a flat cap, ears and a tail. It was a rare luxury- he never used to buy himself anything above the bare necessities, all his wages and Gran’s pension went straight on rent and bills, and any left over he always let Gran have, so it was a big deal. It had been a great Halloween. Most of his Gran’s friends, who knew him by reputation alone and had every right to be disdainful of him, were welcoming and warm and kind. He had babysat grandkids, running around after them, roaring. He had helped serve dinner and call the bingo and pour half pints of beer and small glasses of wine. All the old women would pat his hand or stroke his cheek and comment on how tall and handsome and kind and gentle he was, and he had felt like he was part of a community for the first time in his twenty four years. It had been a good day.

Remus lay the costume reverently out on his bed, and dutifully stripped down to his underwear. He picked up the trousers, the fabric soft in his hands. He traced the stitches down the seams, seeing visions of Gran bent over her ancient sewing machine, her arthritic fingers gently feeding the fabric through, humming along to the tinny sound of Queen leaking out of the broken radio. Remus sank to his knees, back bowed, forehead nearly touching the floor, and wept.

*

At three pm on the dot, Remus knocked on Harry’ and Sirius’ front door. It was painted in a glossy burgundy, with a golden door knocker. The door was wrenched open and Harry was standing in the doorway. He looked- Remus bit his lip so hard he drew blood in his attempt not to laugh out loud. Harry was dressed in black leggings and a black jumper, his curly fringe gelled back and secured with an alice band, and someone had painstakingly painted his face with Alice Cooper’s iconic makeup. “Alright, wee man?” Remus said, chuckling when Harry barrelled into his legs, wrapping his arms around the back of Remus’ thighs.

“Hi Moony! Are you a werewolf? That's so cool! I’m a rockstar! Come in come in come innnn.” Harry let go of Remus’ legs just to grab his fingers and start dragging him inside. Remus went willingly and was pulled into a sitting room full of halloween decorations. There was black and orange crepe paper hanging from the ceiling, and lantern ghosts, and several plastic pumpkins on various surfaces. Black velvet was draped over the two sofas in the room, and the tv was playing a ‘halloween kids mix’ from youtube. There was a table pressed against one wall covered in cucumber sandwiches and juice boxes and fruit and tiny crisp packets. It was all so- domestic, and Remus felt the familiar ache, deep in his chest, for the normal childhood he had never had. Harry dropped Remus’ hand and raced off somewhere, and Remus could hear children laughing in another room.

“Hiya, I’m Molly, lovely to meet you.” An older looking ginger woman dressed like a witch heaved herself off the sofa she was sitting on and pulled Remus into a bone-crushing hug. The top of her head was below the line of his nipples, and he awkwardly patted her on the back before she withdrew.

“Nice to meet you Molly, I’m Remus. I’m, uh, Sirius’ new neighbour, and apparently one of Harry’s best friends now, so…” Remus trailed off, feeling awkward. He had no experience with kids, or adults really. He could only hold his own with people his own age, and there was still no sight of Sirius, so he was completely out of depth. The thunderous sound of running feet sounded and then four children burst in, Harry leading the charge. A small ginger boy was right behind him, and between the hair colour and freckles it was clear he was Molly’s son. A young black girl was there too, her hair worn in an afro all around her head. Remus smiled despite himself. The final child was a brown haired chubby little boy.

“Moony! Moony! This is Ron, and Hermy, and neville!” Harry called, jumping up and down pointing at his friends. Ron, the ginger, was dressed like a fox, with a tail and a little suit on. Remus assumed it was Fantastic Mr Fox. Hermy was dressed like Suzy Carmichael from the rugrats, which was a great costume, and Remus decided he loved her on the spot. Neville was in an ill-fitting batman costume, with his mask pushed up on his head. “Moony lives next door and he’s a werewolf and his real names Remus. How cool is that! Moony we’re gunna carve pumpkins later and will you help me with mine? I bet you’re really good at it!”

“Okay, wee man, I’ll help you, if Sirius doesn’t mind.” Remus responded, feeling overwhelmed as all the children stared up at him with awe.

“Oh! Sirius!” Harry shouted, before running out of the room, bellowing “Sirius! Remus is here! Sirius!” and then the unmistakable sound of someone running up stairs.

“Oh lord.” Molly chuckled, opening her arms as Ron clambered into her lap. “That boy is just a ball of energy. How long have you lived here, then?”

“Almost four months. Harry welcomed me on my first day with some biscuits and a warning about ghosts. I work at a pub near Gloucester road, and Sirius swings by sometimes, so. They’re the only people I really ken here, other than my colleagues.”

“And where did you move from?  Ron, go and play with the others. Yes, we’ll do the pumpkins when Sirius comes down. No, you can’t eat any chocolate yet, you’re all about to go trick or treating.” Ron wiggled off his mum’s lap and joined Hermy and Neville where they were playing on the floor. “The girl is Hermione, by the way, but the children can’t pronounce it very well.”

“Ah, thanks. I came from Aberdeen, where I’ve lived nearly my whole life.”

“Oh, Scotland, how wonderful. Such lovely countryside. Do you miss it?” Gran’s face swam in his mind as Remus swallowed heavily.

“Yeah, I do. Scotland- my heart is there.” Molly smiled sympathetically and patted his hand, like she knew. He hadn’t felt a maternal touch in so long. He gave her a thin smile.

“Remus! Happy you could make it mate.” Came Sirius’ voice in the doorway, and Remus’ heart skipped a beat when he turned his head. Sirius was stood framed in the doorway, smirking, wearing black leather trousers and a tight black t-shirt that was short enough to show a strip of pale skin above his waistband. His face matched Harry’s, and his hair hung in elegant waves around his shoulders. He looked incredible. The makeup made him look scary and untouchable and so fucking sexy.

Remus coughed, before smiling at him. “Alright, Sirius? Nice gaff.” Sirius smirk dropped a bit, before he smiled again and nodded out into the corridor.

“Right kids, pumpkins?” he asked, and the children all cheered.

*

By six thirty, the living room was overrun with about fifteen five year olds and a few more parents, all of whom had volunteered for trick or treat duty. The music was much louder and the children were dancing in the way that children do- jumping up and down and doing knee slides and generally throwing their bodies in every direction they could. Remus had spent an hour with Harry on his lap, painstakingly carving a devilish smiling face into the largest pumpkin he had ever seen. Harry was squirmy and Remus had spent the whole time terrified Harry would knock the hand holding the knife, and there was sweat prickling on the back of his neck by the time it was over. All the pumpkins were taken outside and lined the steps up to the front door, guiding all the new arrivals into the house. Remus had never attended an event like this, even as a kid. The system never hosted parties and as a kid in care he had always been treated with suspicion by the other kids, and was never invited to birthday parties.

It was overwhelming- the noise, the people. He wasn’t sure he enjoyed it. He was itching for a cigarette, his fingers curling at his side as they ached for a rollie tucked between them, but he knew he couldn’t smoke around the children, so instead he clutched his cup of apple juice in one hand like a lifeline and stuck as close to Molly as he could.

“Right! Time to go! Get into groups of five, children.” one of the mums called out at seven, turning the music off. The kids cheered and started running round, grabbing their friends by the arms and settling into their groups. Harry, Neville, Hermione, Ron and another child, a small mixed- race boy who looked scarily similar to Remus called Dean, shuffled over to him, and Harry informed Remus he had to be their adult, alongside Sirius. After much kerfuffle, all the kids were out of the house in their respective groups, and Sirius and Remus were strolling behind their five down the street, watching all the kids run up to the doors and knock loudly, laughing and calling ‘trick or treat!’ and stuffing their faces with chocolate before handing their wrappers all to Remus, who was the only one with pockets. Hermione had very kindly shared her m&m’s with Remus, and was now clutching his hand as they walked, talking his ear off about her favourite tv show.

*

Remus was starting to shiver by the time they herded all the children back to Sirius’ house and into the waiting arms of parents doing pick up. It was past 8pm, which was way past the bedtime of all the children, and the tiredness mixed with the sugar rushes and the excitement meant there were quite a few tears at hometime, Harry included. “NO! NO!” he screamed, clinging to the sofa and kicking his legs. Remus stood in the doorway to the living room, watching as Sirius crouched down to his height and smoothed Harry’s hair back gently.

“Prongslet, I know you don’t want to sleep, but you need to. It’s been a very fun and exciting night, but it's time for bed now, yeah? We agreed earlier didn’t we that you could have all your friends round if it meant you were a good boy and went to bed when I asked you to.” Sirius’ voice was so soft and gentle and the patience he was exhibiting was awe-inspiring to Remus. He didn’t think he could cope with fatherhood so young. Between the pub-night flirting and what Remus had observed that evening, Sirius also seemed to be doing it all alone, which was no mean feat.

“Come on, sprog. I’ll read you any story you like, yeah? And if you’re a good boy and you go upstairs and put your pyjamas on now, I’ll make you a hot cocoa, how does that sound?” Harry stopped kicking and looked up, hopeful. He sniffed and wiped at his face with a paw, smudging his makeup. “Okay, pads.”

“Well done, sprog. I love you so much.” Sirius dropped a kiss to Harry’s forehead and led the boy out of the room. Remus watched as Harry disappeared up the stairs and Sirius turned into the kitchen. He surveyed the wreckage of the living room, shut the door behind him and got to work. He started by putting all the leftover food together, then tidied away all the food waste in the bin bag that had been set up by the tv. Then he piled up all the decorations that had fallen on the floor, before tidying up moved cushions. The work was methodic, and quieted the tired mess of his mind. He was so absorbed in his task that he didn’t hear the footsteps, or the door opening.

“You’re still here.” Sirius’ voice was low, tired. Remus turned to him. He had taken his makeup off, but there were smudges of black still around his eyes, and streaks of white around his hairline. His hair had been pulled back into a messy bun, with strands framing his face. He had changed into a giant rugby jersey and deep red tracksuit with some sort of school logo on the pocket.

“I didn’t want to leave you with all this mess. It seemed like the least I could do.”

“Remus-” Sirius heaved a sigh. “All you’ve done is help. You didn’t need to do this, but thank you. Do you…” Sirius bit his lip, looking up at Remus through his lashes. He looked… sad, Remus thought. “Do you want to stay for a glass of wine? Or I have beer?”

“A beer would be grand, yeah.” Remus said, and Sirius left before returning with two bottles of stella dangling from one hand, and a bottle of malbec in the other. He sat on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him, passing the bottles to Remus before twisting the lid off the wine and taking a long swig. Remus didn’t have a bottle opener, so he shrugged and used his teeth, hearing Sirius gasp beside him when the lid loosened against his molars. Remus settled into the silence between them, drinking slowly, leaning his head back against the sofa and closing his eyes. He felt bone-tired. After a few minutes, he heard sniffing beside him. He cracked an eye open to see that Sirius’ eyes were red rimmed, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. He looked like a fallen angel. So soft and sad in the low lighting.

“Alright, Sirius?” Remus asked softly. Sirius closed his eyes, and drank more wine. “If you want tae talk about it, I’m here.” Remus offered, before returning to his own head. Sirius didn't seem inclined to talk, so they sat in silence, until-

“Harry’s my godson.”

“Oh.”

“His mum and dad were my best friends in the whole world. They died five years ago today. Harry was only a few months old.”

“Oh, Sirius.” Remus had no idea.

“This is James’ old Rugby kit. I always wear it when I miss him. I always try to organise something big on Halloween so Harry doesn’t really notice. He knows it's today, and we always spend the morning at their graveside, but I try to make sure the afternoon is really good. It distracts me too, you know? But then when everyone’s gone and he’s asleep and it's quiet it just- it hits me, and it's like I might die with how much it hurts.”

Remus understood. He knew exactly what Sirius felt. It's what he felt every day, since. “I moved here because my Gran died.” That was the first time he had said it out loud. That she was dead. It was always that she was gone, as if she might come back, as if it wasn’t permanent.

“Remus, I’m sorry.”

“I know how it feels. Like you can’t survive another five minutes of the pain, like your ribs are crushing your heart intae dust.” Remus hadn’t talked about Gran yet. Hadn’t given words to the pain that dogged him, day and night.

“I can’t stand it.” Sirius ground out, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes. “It’s been five years, and it's like it never gets easier. Each time I see his face I can see both of them. He’s just like James, and he’s so perfect and I just want James’ back, you know? He saved my life. That man saved my life and lost his and I am left all alone with his son and a sadness so heavy I can barely stand upright.”

Remus knew.

“My Gran took me out of care, and gave me my first ever home, when I was twelve. She saved my life, and gave up hers tae raise me. She didn’t even know I had been born until my parents died.” Sirius sucked in a breath, and tipped to the side, slowly. Remus watched him fall and brought his arm up, wrapping it around Sirius’ shoulders and tucking him in.

“You know what it feels like.” Sirius whispered into the room, and Remus tightened his arm. His grief had felt like he was floating in a vast ocean, all alone, victim to the whims of an angry sea. Sirius felt like a lifeboat.