one
The morning of July 28th 1991 started out just the same as every other one had for the past five years.
Remus Lupin woke up to the too-bright sun shining through the blinds of his bedroom, illuminating his face in just the wrong way. He turned over with a groan, trying desperately to cling onto the dream he’d been having. He didn’t allow himself to open his eyes-- no, instead he turned over and buried his face in the chest of the man sleeping next to him.
He remained still for one, two, three moments, before he slowly sat up. He knew it was hopeless- once he’d woken up, he was awake for the rest of the day. It was something he used to whine and moan to all of his friends about back when he was in school. He pulled his blankets back and gingerly touched his toes to the cold ground, looking back at his bed as he did so.
Sirius Black was sprawled out on the mattress, his eyes shut and mouth open. The light from the window was now cast fully on him, and it shone on him in a way that Remus was sure the morning reserved just for Sirius. His long hair was tangled across their pillows, and his tanned chest rose and fell in a peaceful, sleeping rhythm.
This was something that Remus hadn’t gotten used to in the 12 years the two of them had been together. Moments like these were something that he’d dreamed about when he was still in school-- when he’d lay awake in bed, his head too full with thoughts of Sirius to sleep, back when he was too afraid to do anything about his feelings. He’d imagined them waking up together years down the line, always happy and smiling. He imagined them cooking dinner together, and eating together.
And perhaps the fact that all of this dreaming had come true was the reason he was motivated enough to get out of bed each morning.
He stood up, crossing the room and the landing of the top of their four-story house, going down the stairs and stepping left on the eighth one down to avoid the great creak the wood always supplied when there was any added weight to its already brittle state.
He entered the kitchen, taking out various pans and utensils to begin making breakfast, a routine he’d quickly fallen into as soon as he and Sirius moved into Grimmauld Place.
He got lost in his thoughts-- listing off in his head what he was meant to do that day. He tried to rack his brain and think of anything he might need from the store, when he heard the familiar creak from the stairs, and his lips pulled into a smile.
“Morning, Moony!” A child’s voice behind him said, full of excitement for the day at hand. Harry Potter appeared at his side, green eyes wide and expectant. It was a familiar sight to Remus, a daily thing that he’d seen and looked forward to every morning.
Harry was still in his pajamas-- a blue button up set that Sirius had bought him that harbored cartoon dogs all over it. His hair looked to be in its usual state, messy and unkempt, just as his father’s had always been. His crooked glasses sat askew on his nose.
“Here you go, Harry,” Remus said quietly, handing him a few eggs and stepping away from the pan on the stove. “You can crack them, just don’t get any shells in it.”
“I won’t, I won’t,” Harry insisted, though Remus suspected that he was still going to.
(He let him crack the eggs into the pan every so often, and each time he ended up with more shell in there than yolk. The first time it had happened, Harry, so worried that he’d messed up breakfast, began to cry. Sirius, bless him, had come downstairs and eaten the eggs anyway, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.)
Remus watched him crack the eggs, stepping closer to the pan and noting proudly that there was minimal shell among the food. He cooked them, flipping them over as Harry stood on his toes to see. He always watched Remus cook, content and interested, and it was one of Remus’s favorite things in the world.
The two of them heard the stairs creak again, and Harry disappeared from his side to run to the doorway. “Morning!” He shrieked, Remus wincing as he did so. Harry was always automatically louder when Sirius was awake.
“Morning, Harry,” Sirius said, his voice groggy and deep. He crossed the kitchen-- feet sliding across the floor in a way that drove Remus absolutely insane-- and placed a hand on Remus’s waist, kissing him on the cheek. “Morning, Moony.”
Remus hummed contently, and Sirius leaned against the counter, arms folded across his chest as he began to animatedly recount the dream he had.
He finished up the eggs, and Sirius got out a plate for each of them. “Don’t forget you’re going to Molly’s today,” Sirius said to Harry as the boy began to eat his breakfast much too quickly for Remus’s nerves. “Remus and I are going out to buy you some school supplies.”
“Can’t I come with you?” Harry whined, mouth full of food. Sirius gave him a look and Harry’s face soured. He closed his mouth and chewed for a few moments, swallowed the bite and repeated in the same tone, “Why can’t I come?”
“Because, Harry,” Remus said, a certain finality in his tone that told Harry he wasn’t about to argue on this. Harry shut up, glaring down at his plate.
“Can I be done?” He asked, lips puffed out grumpily in the same way that Sirius did. Sirius looked at his empty dish and nodded, and Harry put it in the sink before taking off upstairs.
“You’re so mean,” Sirius teased Remus once the two of them were alone. “Look what you did. You broke his little heart just then.”
“It was your idea,” Remus said, getting up from the table and lightly pushing against Sirius’s shoulder. “Besides, he’ll forget all about being upset once he sees what we’re getting him.”
Sirius hummed, taking a small sip of the coffee Remus swore he didn’t see him make. “You better go get him ready for the Weasley’s, then. They’ll be expecting him soon.”
Remus nodded, running his hand through Sirius’s hair to mess it up in the way he knew he hated, and left the kitchen to go upstairs. He knocked on Harry’s bedroom door-- a room that had once, years and years ago, belonged to Regulus-- and opened it enough to peek his head in. Harry was packing his clothes into a backpack. He was already dressed, though his outfit didn’t match at all, and his shoes were untied on his feet. “Mind if I come in?” He asked.
Harry looked up and nodded as he walked in anyway, all tense feelings between them in the kitchen already forgotten, and his face broke into a toothy smile. “Guess what!”
“What?” Remus asked, taking a seat on the bed behind him. His bedroom, which was once void of anything fit for a child, was now decked out in Hogwarts banners and littered with toys and clothes. Remus made a mental reminder to himself to tell Harry to clean his room once he got back this evening.
“I get to see Fred today!”
“That’s… Great?” Remus asked, eyebrows furrowed. He watched as Harry ran across the room to grab something-- feet stomping down heavily and creating a conundrum of thuds. Remus wondered, dimly, if Sirius could hear him downstairs.
“I love him,” Harry said casually, back turned from Remus. Remus only rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time Harry had proclaimed his love for someone in the Weasley family- the boy fell in love with nearly everyone he met in the wizarding world.
(A few weeks ago, Harry had come home through floo powder, immediately running into Remus and Sirius’s bedroom shouting about his feelings.
Remus and Sirius had been in the middle of a very heated makeout session, though Harry thankfully didn’t seem to notice. He was much too caught up with his newly developed feelings for Molly Weasley.
“I love her!” He had shouted into their room as he ran in, Sirius and Remus jumping apart.
“W-Who?” Sirius asked, voice hoarse. Harry made a noise of exasperation, as if the two of them should just know everything that went on in that head of his.
“Molly! She’s so nice! And pretty!”)
“He and George look the same,” Remus settled on, deciding to at least try and sound enthusiastic and surprised. “How can you even tell them apart?”
Harry looked shocked. “True love can make you tell them apart, Moony,” and now he sounded quite cross with Remus, who only shook his head.
“Whatever you say,” Remus said. “Do you want me to tie your shoes for you?” He nodded to Harry’s untied laces, and Harry immediately crouched down and tied them. He stood back up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and he and Remus headed downstairs to the fireplace where Remus saw him off.
After, Remus walked back into the kitchen, sighing as he sat down next to Sirius. “He’s in love with one of the twins now,” Remus decided to start with, and Sirius looked up from the book he was reading, an eyebrow raised.
“Is he?” Sirius asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. He put his book down on the table in front of him, sitting up a little straighter. “Which one?”
“I’m not sure,” Remus said slowly. “George, I think?”
“Hm,” Sirius said quietly, then smiled that familiar grin of his. “And who are you in love with, Remus Lupin?”
“I don’t think you know him,” Remus said quietly. He leaned forward and gave Sirius a slow kiss, and when he pulled away he said, “he’s very handsome, though.”
Sirius hummed, giving him another kiss.
And this, Remus thought, as Sirius pulled him lazily onto his lap and picked up his book again to read, his chin resting snugly on Remus’s shoulder, is happiness.
“What does the boy need again?” Sirius asked much later that day, after the two of them had properly gotten dressed and left the house. They wandered around Diagon Alley now, hand in hand. Remus was holding a chocolate bar that Sirius had bought him when the two of them arrived, and Remus pretended not to notice the three other ones Sirius bought for him that he had stuffed lazily in his bag. “A wand?”
“You know very well we can’t get him a wand,” Remus said. “But we can get him some quills and ink. His letter hasn’t come in yet, so I can’t imagine we’ll be able to figure out which textbooks to get him.”
Sirius groaned dramatically, leaning his head back to stare up at the sky in the way he did when he was feeling exasperated. Remus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling all the same.
They passed by various shops, both of them bickering lightly back and forth about things the two of them wanted to get for Harry. Sirius was insistent that the boy needed everything for school, and Remus kept reminding him that Harry already had too many things.
(“Come on, Remus, don’t you want our boy to have the best?” Sirius asked, and Remus ignored the absolute flutter his stomach supplied at the use of ‘our boy’.
“Sirius Black, use your brain please,” Remus chuckled, pulling the other man closer to him, Sirius’s hand flying to grab onto Remus’s back in habit. “Harry can’t even keep his room clean now, imagine how cluttered it would be if he had all of these things!”)
Harry had become such a large part of their lives, Remus couldn’t help but think as Sirius dragged him into the shop for the new broom they were buying for his birthday. It really felt, sometimes, like he was their son; like he was theirs.
And of course, whenever that thought came into his mind, he would feel guilty. He could see James and Lily in his head, James absolutely buzzing as he told the marauders that Lily was pregnant.
That was one of the happiest days of Remus’s life, just because James had been so ecstatic. He thought about it a lot, really.
They bought him the Nimbus 2000, though Remus reminded an overly excited Sirius as they began walking back that he wasn’t allowed to take the broom to school.
“He can use it at the Weasley’s,” Sirius said with a wave. “And besides, he’ll be the fastest on the team when he does get picked. My darling Minnie wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I’m not sure she likes that nickname,” Remus mused. “Now, take my arm.”
Sirius did, and the two of them apparated back to the house just in time to hear a light tapping on something in the kitchen. “Kreacher!” Sirius called loudly, the bellow echoing through the empty house. “What are you doing?”
There was a dragging sound now, down the hallway, and the Black family house-elf appeared at the top of the stairs. He glared down at the two of them. “Kreacher has been sitting in his room, as instructed.”
“Is that where he’s been?” Remus asked Sirius under his breath. “I swear I haven’t seen him for months.”
“I told him to go to his room in January,” Sirius said back, just as quietly, a frown on his lips. “Not that I mind his absence.”
Remus agreed with Sirius on that one; he knew it was a little, in simple and maybe dramatic terms, barbaric to have a house-elf holed up in his room (which wasn’t even much of a room, really. It was more like storage space.) but whenever Sirius wasn’t around, the dreadful thing would come out and mumble about werewolves and disgusting half-breeds. Remus wasn’t one to get his feelings hurt over a bigoted house-elf, but he was always a little worried that Harry would overhear.
The boy still didn’t know about Remus’s lycanthropy-- he and Sirius sent him to Snape's every full moon, and he didn’t come back until Remus was ready to walk around. Sirius originally had wanted to send him to the Weasley’s, but Remus figured that Snape would handle Harry’s questions a lot better. They were planning on telling him in a few years, though. Remus just wanted him to be old enough to understand.
(“Understand what though?” Sirius had asked him the day after one full moon a little over a year ago. Remus was laying in bed, curled in on himself, naked and aching.
“I don’t know,” Remus said softly. “I guess I want him to be old enough to know I’m not a monster.”
“He’d never think that,” Sirius said, the words coming out rushed in a single breath as he kneeled down beside the bed to clasp their hands together. “No one thinks that.”
“I do.”
“And you already know how I feel about that,” Sirius said, straightening up to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. He pulled back the blanket, getting into bed and carefully-- very carefully, so he didn’t hurt him-- and pulled him close. “None of that is true, love.”)
The knocking in the kitchen was still persistently happening, getting louder the longer the two of them stood staring at the house-elf. Remus went into the other room, noticing an owl pecking at the glass on the window adjacent to him. “Oh,” he exclaimed. “Sorry, Feathers!”
The stupid nickname for the bird fell off of his lips so easily now, and as he crossed the room to let the owl in, he cursed himself. Sirius had come up with the name Featherina when Remus had bought the owl for him, and Harry, being young, had simply called the thing Feathers. Remus hated both of the names, though he supposed that at this point in its life, it couldn’t be helped.
Featherina held out a letter for him, and he grabbed it from her, scooting over the small bowl of seed for her to peck at.
Mr. H. Potter,
The Second Bedroom to the Right.
12 Grimmauld Place,
Borough of Islington,
London.
Remus gasped, nearly dropping the thing, running out of the kitchen to show Sirius. And Sirius, almost as excited as the day he’d gotten his own letter, had wanted to tear it open right away, or go straight to the Weasley’s to bring Harry home, but Remus had stopped him. So instead, they put it on Harry’s bed, right on his pillows.
It would be a surprise for later, Remus assured Sirius.
(And a surprise it was-- Harry had run to their room and pounded on their door for a solid five minutes. The two of them were napping-- yes, just napping, thank you very much-- and Remus had sat up so quickly in bed that he’d nearly passed out. He needed to take a moment, standing with his hand against the wall as Harry screamed with Sirius over the letter.
“I’m going to be a Gryffindor, just like Fred!” Harry said, and to both his and Sirius’s surprise, began to cry. “I’m going to be a Gryffindor just like all of my dads!”
And that particular comment had made both Remus and Sirius tear up more than the two of them would have liked to admit.)
On the morning of Harry’s birthday, before the sun had even had a chance to rise outside, Remus woke up to a movement on the bed. He sat up on his elbows, squinting his eyes to try and see what was going on, and was met face-to-face with Harry. Harry smiled brightly. “Guess what day it is!”
“Hm,” Remus mused. He was tired; he was sure he’d only gone to sleep a few hours ago, but he wasn’t so tired that he couldn’t joke around with Harry. “I’m not sure, Harry.”
“You’re a liar if I’ve ever seen one,” Harry said simply. He jumped onto Sirius, who let out a loud groan.
“Harry James Potter, you’re far too big to be jumping on people,” Sirius said, his voice stern and strained. “What is it? What do you need?”
“Guess what day it is,” Harry repeated.
“Ask Remus.”
“Padfoot!” Harry shook him, and Sirius threw the blanket over the boy’s head and grabbed him, laying back down.
“Go to sleep, boy, it can be your birthday in the morning!”
Harry laughed, giggles rippling through the whole bedroom in the late hours of the night, but he laid down between the two of them just like he used to when he was younger. Remus turned back over, looking at Sirius’s face over Harry. His eyes were closed, but he was smiling.
They woke up again after the sun had risen, Harry shaking Sirius’s shoulder. “Get up, Padfoot,” then, in a loud whisper, “We have to go make breakfast for Remus.” Sirius playfully pushed Harry over, the boy falling onto the mattress and into Remus. The room was filled with giggles from all three of them.
Sirius got up after that, his toned back facing Remus when he turned over on his pillow to watch him get up. Sirius bent over and gave a tender kiss to Remus’s temple. “Go back to sleep, love,” he mumbled, and Remus could feel his lips brush lightly against his skin. “We’ll cook you a sweet treat to wake up to.”
Remus smiled, eyes now closed. “I’m sure I can guess what it is.”
Sirius hummed at that, ruffling his hair and giving him another kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
On Harry’s birthday every year, he would come into their bedroom sometime in the night and sleep between them. When he woke up, he would shake Sirius awake and they would go downstairs to make cannoli pancakes.
Sirius was the one who had introduced the dish to him-- the first birthday that Harry spent with them, Sirius woke up early and made him breakfast. Cannoli pancakes were a rather nostalgic dish for him. When his mother had kicked him out, he’d gone to the Potter’s and Euphemia Potter cooked them for him every day for a month after James had tipped her off that it was his favorite.
Remus rolled over in bed, awake but giving himself time to stay in between his blankets. He looked up at the window, and noticed that the blinds were drawn in a way that restricted the sunlight that always came through. That must have been Sirius.
He rolled back over, his face pressed in Sirius’s pillows. The smell was something that was comforting to him after so many years together. He strained his ears against the silence in their room; he could hear Kreacher walking around on the landing, and he could hear Sirius and Harry downstairs talking and laughing loudly.
The boys downstairs. Laughing and happy. His boys.
Remus fell back asleep.
(He was shaken awake, though, about an hour later by Harry. “Get up, Moony,” he said quietly. Remus blinked up at him, and Harry smiled softly. “Food is done.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Remus said, voice full of sleep. Harry stood there as he pushed himself up, and he sat down on the bed where Remus’s legs were. “Are you having a good birthday so far?”
“It’s the best one yet,” Harry said quietly, smile big and eyes shining. He grabbed Remus’s hand. “Now come on, Moony.”)
Remus saw Molly that day; she and Arthur brought all of the kids over, and even Bill and Charlie came. Harry, who hadn’t met the two oldest boys yet, cowered a little behind Sirius before Fred and George convinced him to go off and play outside.
Grimmauld Place’s backyard used to harbor a strange array of various dead plants and weird arrangements of metal that looked a little too threatening for Remus’s taste, and when Harry first began living with them, he wouldn’t let him outside until Sirius cleaned it all up. Harry was upset about it-- he was a kid, after all, and kids like to play-- but Sirius sat him down at the piano and showed him how to play a few different songs. He still liked to show off his limited piano skill from time to time.
Remus stood in the kitchen, making conversation with Molly and Arthur, who both held glasses of firewhiskey in their hands. Remus had had a glass to drink already, and he was absently playing with the cup as they talked to him.
Apparently, when Ron had gotten his Hogwarts letter, Ginny had begun to cry. “She wants to go so bad,” Molly said, laughing and waving her hand as she took another drink. “It’s cute, really.”
Remus smiled pleasantly. He didn’t know when he became the type of parent to stand in a kitchen gossiping about his child over alcohol, but here he was. “Harry was just excited. He’s hoping to be sorted into Gryffindor like his dad.”
“I imagine he will be,” Arthur commented. “He’s one of the bravest kids I’ve met.”
Remus nodded to that, pouring himself more firewhiskey and drinking the whole glass in one go.
“How’s Sirius?” Molly asked, eyes flickering to the man in question. He was standing in the kitchen, and Harry was standing in front of him and tugging on the front of his shirt. The two of them were laughing hysterically.
“Wonderful,” Remus breathed (which, he would recall a little later, was quite an embarrassing answer. It must have been all that he was drinking). “He’s been working on planning a trip to Italy for when Harry goes off to school.”
“Maybe he’ll finally propose,” Molly mused. “The man needs to hurry up and get you before someone else does!”
Remus shook his head. “He’s got me, trust me. It doesn’t matter to me whether I have a ring to prove our love.”
Arthur laughed at that, drinking the last bit of his drink as Harry ran over to them. “Remus,” he said, red-faced and breathless. “I have to tell you something.”
“Hm?” Remus asked, his eyebrow raising. Harry looked embarrassed, and cast a glance at Arthur and Molly next to him, so Remus bent over so Harry would be closer to his ear. “What is it, lad?”
“I think I’m in love.”
“Yes, yes, with the Weasley twins, right?”
“No, that was Fred. But I found someone new,” Harry said, green eyes shining as he pulled out a dragon scale from his pocket. “Charlie got me this! He said he works in Romania. We’re going to live together there and get married.”
“Mm!” Remus said, looking at the dragon scale with knitted eyebrows. “Is that so?”
“Yes!”
“Have you told Molly?” He said this a bit louder, because he could see Molly Weasley out of the corner of his eye crane her neck to see what Harry was holding. Harry shook his head, glaring at Remus a bit before and running off to join Ron and the twins once more.
“Has he told me what?” Molly asked, amusement tinting her voice. She knew, obviously, about Harry and his ability to love everyone. Remus smiled at her, leaning into her side.
“He’s going to marry Bill and live in Romania with him or something.”
“How lovely,” she said, cheeks rosy-- perhaps from the alcohol she’d been drinking-- and she gave a bubbly laugh. Remus joined in, and the two of them stood in the corner of the kitchen laughing together like fools.
“Is Severus coming tonight for dinner?” Arthur asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, and Remus nodded, stealing Molly’s drink of firewhiskey and taking a long drink of it.
“Harry wanted him to, and you know Severus.”
“I can’t imagine Sirius will like that,” Molly said with a chuckle, pouring another cup and handing it to Remus. Remus shook his head, taking it gratefully.
“No, probably not. But he’ll behave for the boy’s sake.” Remus sighed, loosley crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the counter. The cool granit dug into his back, sending chills everywhere throughout him. He took another long sip of his drink, enjoying the way it was warming him up, and said, “Harry loves that man, he does. Don’t particularly know why.”
“He tells me Severus is the one that taught him to tie his shoes.”
“He is!” Remus said, a little too loudly, but neither of the Weasleys seemed to notice or care. “Sirius is still rather upset over that one.”
“Are you talking about me?” Sirius asked, suddenly standing beside the three of them. He put a steadying arm around Remus’s waist, taking the drink from his hand and giving him a look.
(The same look that he always gave him when he thought Remus was drinking too much.
Once, in fifth year, Peter had snuck in some muggle vodka. They’d all suspected Remus to drink the least-- him being the most responsible out of the four-- but once he had finished downing his ninth shot of it, Sirius had taken the bottle away from him and given him that look.
It was the first time he’d seen it. Sirius’s eyebrows knit together and his lips turned into a small frown, telling him very clearly to stop. Remus loved it.)
“I am indeed,” Remus told him, bending down to kiss him. “Severus Snape is coming over tonight.”
“I know,” Sirius said darkly. “I’m having to make a whole extra serving of salmon and potatoes.”
“You don’t have to cook, Sirius,” Molly told him, as if he didn’t already know. “You can do that with magic.”
“I know,” Sirius repeated. “I like to do it the muggle way though. Helps me think, I suppose.”
“Can I help with the cooking?” Arthur asked, a little too eager. Sirius nodded, and smiled at Remus. He leaned up on his toes, Remus tilting his head so Sirius could give him a kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll be back, then. Come on, Weasley.”
***
The dinner went nicely, just as it had the past however many years they’d been throwing Harry small gatherings. Snape sat across from Sirius, the both of them folding their hands together and glaring at the other. Harry, like the polite young man that Remus had raised him to be, sat next to his guest and made polite conversation.
“I got a dragon scale,” Harry told him, sitting up straight with his hands folded in front of him, mimicking Snape’s posture. “Charlie got it for me.”
“Fascinating,” Snape said in his usual drawl, but Remus saw the hint of a smile. Snape was never a patient person-- and Remus had never known the other man to be kind, but he treated Harry almost like a son. Remus was grateful for it, and even though Sirius was always glaring daggers at him when he was over, he knew he was too.
“I also got a broom.”
“Hm? Which one?”
“The Nimbus 2000!”
“First years don’t play Quidditch, Harry.”
“Still!”
Remus shook his head, chuckling a bit at Harry. He didn’t get to see Snape very often, so when he did, the man didn’t get a break from Harry. Remus knew it drove him crazy, but then again, he had the patience to sit there and act more enthusiastic than he did with anyone else he had conversations with.
Remus couldn’t stop thinking that, in a little over a month, Harry would be leaving for Hogwarts. Sirius and Remus would be in the house without him for the first time in five years.
Instead of dwelling on that and making himself sad, though, he leaned forward on his elbows and smiled at Harry as he waved his hands around in excitement to Snape.
He watched as, later, he opened up his presents and ran around the room with the other children.
And he watched as, after all of the guests left, Harry climbed onto Sirius’s lap and laid on him as he read him to sleep. Sirius kissed the top of his head, and carried him up to his room to put him in his bed.