Chapter 3
Sirius brought Harry and Marlene to the one place he thought they could be safe: the home of Remus Lupin. It was a modest cottage on the outskirts of a forest, hidden by enchantments and far from prying eyes.
Remus opened the door to find Sirius standing there, the children bundled in his arms. “Merlin’s beard, Sirius,” he whispered, his amber eyes wide with shock and sorrow. “What happened?”
“They’re gone, Moony,” Sirius said, his voice breaking. “Prongs and Lily… they’re gone.”
Remus stepped aside, allowing Sirius to enter. He took Harry and Marlene, cradling them gently as Sirius collapsed onto the couch. The weight of the night’s events pressed down on them both, the air heavy with unspoken grief.
“They’ll come after the children,” Sirius said finally, his voice hoarse. “We have to protect them. No matter what.”
Remus nodded, his expression grim. “We will.”
Sirius sat by the fireplace late into the night, nursing a tumbler of firewhisky. Harry and Marlene were asleep upstairs, safe for now. But sleep didn’t come for him. Not anymore. The weight of James and Lily’s deaths hung around his neck like a noose, tightening every time he closed his eyes.
The sound of soft footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced up to see Remus standing in the doorway, a blanket draped over his shoulders. His amber eyes, tinged with fatigue, studied Sirius for a long moment before he stepped closer.
“You should sleep,” Remus said, his voice gentle. “You’ll burn out at this rate.”
Sirius shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “Can’t. Every time I try, I see them. James, Lily… that house…” His voice cracked, and he stared into the fire, his jaw clenched. “I should’ve been there, Moony. I could’ve saved them.”
“You don’t know that,” Remus said quietly, sitting beside him. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
Sirius let out a shaky breath, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know how to do this, Remus. How to keep going without them.”
Remus reached out, placing a hand over Sirius’s. His touch was warm, steadying. “You keep going for them,” he said softly. “For Harry and Marlene. They’re all that’s left of James and Lily. And they need you.”
Sirius turned to look at him, his stormy gray eyes glistening. “I don’t think I can do this alone.”
“You’re not alone,” Remus said firmly, his hand squeezing Sirius’s. “You’ll never be alone.”
The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. Sirius searched Remus’s face, and in that moment, the grief and fear that had consumed him gave way to something else. Something that had always been there, just beneath the surface. He leaned in hesitantly, their foreheads touching as he whispered, “I don’t deserve you.”
Remus smiled faintly, his thumb brushing over Sirius’s knuckles. “That’s not for you to decide.”
And then, with the fire casting flickering shadows around them, Sirius closed the distance, capturing Remus’s lips in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and hope. It was the first time in weeks that the weight in his chest felt lighter, even if only for a moment.
One rainy afternoon, the four of them were huddled in the living room. Sirius had transformed into Padfoot, letting Harry and Marlene climb all over his shaggy black fur while Remus watched from the armchair, a book in hand.
“You’re going to spoil them,” Remus said with a chuckle as Harry giggled, tugging on Padfoot’s tail.
“That’s the point,” Sirius replied, shifting back into his human form. He scooped Marlene into his arms, spinning her around until she squealed with laughter. “They deserve to be spoiled.”
Remus smiled, his heart swelling at the sight. For all his flaws, Sirius had a heart as big as the moon, and his love for these children was unshakable.
When the children were asleep, Sirius and Remus often found themselves sitting together on the porch, wrapped in blankets as they watched the stars.
“Do you think they know how much they’re loved?” Sirius asked one night, his voice soft.
Remus glanced at him, his expression warm. “I think they do. You make sure of it every day.”
Sirius smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “I just… I don’t want them to grow up feeling like they’re missing something. Like we’re just poor substitutes for James and Lily.”
Remus reached out, taking Sirius’s hand. “We’re not substitutes, Sirius. We’re their family. And family isn’t about blood—it’s about love.”
Sirius looked at him, his throat tightening with emotion. “You always know what to say, don’t you, Moony?”
“Only when it comes to you,” Remus replied, his voice laced with affection.
One evening, as they lay tangled together in bed, Sirius traced the scar on Remus’s shoulder, a mark from a long-ago full moon. “Do you ever wish things were different?” he asked quietly.
“Every day,” Remus admitted. “But then I look at you, at Harry and Marlene, and I think… maybe this is enough.”
Sirius leaned down, pressing a kiss to Remus’s forehead. “You’re my enough, Moony. Always.”
“Do you think this is enough?” Sirius asked, gesturing to the mountain of items in their cart. They were at a small wizarding shop tucked away in Diagon Alley, its aisles overflowing with baby clothes, toys, and magical gadgets designed to make parenting easier. Harry sat in a sling on Sirius’s chest, wide-eyed and babbling. Marlene was in a carrier on Remus’s back, gurgling happily.
Remus raised an eyebrow as he looked at the cart, which was filled with mismatched onesies, a self-cleaning bottle warmer, three different brands of teething rings, and a large jar labeled “Dragon-Safe Diaper Cream.”
“You’ve gone completely overboard,” Remus said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We don’t need half of this.”
Sirius scoffed. “What do you mean? Of course we do. Look at this!” He grabbed a tiny broomstick from the pile, waving it triumphantly. “Harry’s first broom! It’s charmed to hover only three feet off the ground—perfectly safe!”
Remus sighed. “He’s not even two, Sirius. He can barely walk without toppling over, let alone fly.”
Sirius frowned, looking down at Harry, who promptly blew a spit bubble. “He’s a Potter. Flying’s in his blood. Aren’t you, Prongslet?” Harry squealed in response, kicking his little legs.
“And what about Marlene?” Remus added, craning his neck to glance at the baby on his back. “What does she get?”
Sirius reached back into the cart, pulling out a stuffed hippogriff that flapped its wings lazily. “Ta-da! A new best friend. Name it, and it comes when she calls. Genius, right?”
Remus stared at him, unimpressed. “You realize we came here for essentials, don’t you? Diapers. Bottles. Clothes. Not… flying brooms and enchanted plushies.”
“I’m getting the broom,” Sirius said stubbornly, plopping it back into the cart. “James would want his son to have it.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “Fine. But if Harry launches himself into the ceiling, you’re explaining it to Lily in the afterlife.”
They navigated to the diaper aisle, which seemed endless. Dozens of brands lined the shelves, each boasting some magical property.
“Okay,” Sirius said, grabbing a bright green package. “This one’s self-changing. Sounds perfect.”
Remus snatched it from him, reading the fine print. “They’re self-changing, but they also play ‘Celestina Warbeck’s Greatest Hits’ whenever you put them on.”
“So?”
Remus gave him a pointed look. “Do you want to listen to ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love’ every time you change a diaper?”
Sirius grimaced. “Point taken. What about this one?” He grabbed a purple package.
Remus read the label aloud. “‘Anti-Leak Hexes included. Side effect: May turn baby’s hair bright green for up to 24 hours.’”
They both paused, looking at Marlene, whose tiny tuft of red hair was currently poking out of her cap.
Remus smirked. “Actually, that one could be kind of funny.”
Sirius chuckled. “We’ll take two.”
When they reached the clothing section, Sirius grabbed a bright orange onesie with a roaring lion charmed on the chest. “Look! Gryffindor pride!”
Remus frowned, holding up a plain, soft yellow sleeper. “Or we could just go with something practical and not potentially terrifying for a baby.”
“Terrifying? What’s terrifying about—” Sirius accidentally triggered the charm, and the lion let out a ferocious roar, startling Harry and making Marlene burst into tears.
Remus glared at him as he frantically tried to hush the children. “This is why I do the shopping.”
Sirius, juggling a squirming Harry, looked sheepish. “Okay, maybe not the lion.”
By the time they reached the checkout, their cart was an eclectic mess of practical items and Sirius’s more questionable “necessities.”
“You’re lucky they don’t let me bring Padfoot in here,” Sirius muttered, rummaging through his pockets for coins. “I’d have done all this in half the time.”
“And scared off every customer in the process,” Remus countered, handing the cashier a bag of galleons.
As they left the shop, Sirius looked down at Harry, who was gnawing on a teething ring shaped like a miniature Firebolt. “You know, for all the stress, we did pretty well.”
Remus arched an eyebrow. “Well? We spent half our savings, scared the babies, and probably confused the poor cashier to no end.”
“Yeah,” Sirius said, grinning. “But look at them. Totally worth it.”
Remus couldn’t argue. Harry was giggling again, and Marlene was dozing peacefully on his back. Despite the chaos, their little family was happy. And that was all that mattered.