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engie-ivy · 9 months

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@wolfstarmicrofic 5th August: Holiday

2292 words (turned out not that micro😬)

Lyall Lupin wants Sirius Black to learn the consequences of his actions. But as it turns out, it's Lyall himself who has something to learn about the consequences of Sirius’ actions.

Consequences

“So what you’re saying is, you didn’t miss me at all?”

Remus turns to look at Sirius, who has a teasing smile on his face. He shoves him playfully as they make their way across the trail back to the farm. “That’s not what I’m saying and you know it.” He shakes his head. “I’m just saying summer has been kinda great, that’s all. Since I couldn’t make it home for Christmas because of the moon, mum’s been looking forward to the summer holiday to have her family all together again, and she’s determined to make it the best summer ever. We’ve been having homemade pies and elaborate breakfasts with freshly baked bread, we’ve been going on long walks through the hills and picnicking in the field, we’ve been going out for dinner or gone to get ice cream in the nearby village, or just visiting other towns to see the sights.” He sighs contently. “Yeah, it’s been pretty good.”

Sirius gives Remus a soft smile. “That sounds amazing. And I’m glad, as long as you don’t forget to miss me sometimes.”

Remus stops walking, turns to Sirius and wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “You know I do,” he says, pressing his face against Sirius’ neck and breathing him in. “I always miss you when you’re not around.”

Sirius wraps his arms around Remus’ waist and pulls him even closer. “I know,” he whispers against his hair.

Remus releases him and presses a kiss against his lips, because he can do that now. “Really,” he says as he takes Sirius’ hand in his, because he can also do that now, as they make their way down the hill before the crisp morning air will be replaced by the summer heat. “The only thing that would’ve made this summer better would’ve been you being around.”

“I could be,” Sirius says carefully. “Around, I mean. Not all the time, of course. I understand you need family time. But I could come over sometimes?”

Remus averts his eyes. “I don’t know, Sirius. You know how my father feels about your family. He’s still wary about us being friends. I don’t know if he should find out about this-” he gestures at their joint hands “-just yet.”

“I am not my family,” Sirius says curtly.

“I know that,” Remus says. “But my father doesn’t.”

“And he never will if you don’t let me spend any time with him!”

“That’s not fair,” Remus says softly.

“No,” Sirius agrees. “It isn’t.”

They stay silent for a moment. Remus is relieved Sirius doesn’t retract his hand.

“It isn’t even about my dad,” Remus says after a moment. “Not really. But if my dad reacts badly to you, it’ll create tension between my dad and I, and I fear that’ll upset my mum. She’s been doing so good lately, her mood has been stable for a long time, and she’s been so cheerful, especially this summer... She’s been looking forward to having the family together for so long, and it means so much to her, I don’t want to ruin it for her.”

“I get that,” Sirius says, giving Remus’ hand a soft squeeze. “Then now is not the time, and that’s okay.”

Remus feels a surge of affection, and gives him a grateful smile.

“You know, I could also come to visit without telling your parents about... the latest development in our relationship,” Sirius offers. “We could let them think we’re just friends, and sneak in some kisses when we’re alone,” he says with a cheeky smile.

Remus chuckles. “As wonderful as that sounds, I don’t think we’ll be fooling anyone. Everyone who sees us together can probably tell we’re hopelessly in love.”

Sirius also laughs. “Good point.”

They stop as they reach the end of the trial, with Remus’ house just around the corner. Birds are singing and the sun is chasing away the morning chill. Remus’ parents will be waking up soon.

Sirius traces a finger over Remus’ cheek. “Can I have another secret visit then tomorrow same time?”

Remus gasps. “Sirius Black offering to get up at the crack of dawn on a day off twice?” He shakes his head. “I must be special.”

“Mmm,” Sirius hums, giving Remus a kiss. “You must be.”

Lyall Lupin yawns as he shuffles out of the bathroom. It feels like the middle of the night, but if he wants to finish shaving all the sheep today, he’ll have to get an early start.

Suddenly, Remus’ bedroom door opens, and Remus quietly slips out.

Lyall blinks. “Remus?”

Remus jumps. “Dad! I... I didn’t see you there. What... What are you doing up?”

“It’s time to shave the sheep,” Lyall replies. “What are you doing out of bed at this hour?”

“Eh, you know,” Remus says, scratching the back of his head. “The... the sheep. Yeah, I wanted to ask you if I can help you with the sheep.”

Lyall smiles at his son and ruffles his hair. “That’s kind of you, lad. But you know that the sheep are always a bit... uneasy around you. It’ll probably take longer with your help, so why don’t you just go back to bed, huh?”

“Yes,” Remus says. “Right. I guess I will. Do that. Then. Eh, good luck, with the sheep.”

“Thanks, lad,” Lyall says. He might need it. It’s always a lot of work, and with each passing year, he can really feel he’s getting older. Remus’ help would’ve been very welcome, but with the sheep’s reaction to his presence, it’ll do more harm than good. He watches his son go back into his room. “You enjoy some extra hours of sleep,” he tells him.

Lyall walks around the house carrying his equipment, on his way to the sheep shed. As he rounds the corner, he stops in his tracks. For a brief moment, he thinks that a bear has gotten on his property, but quickly he sees that it’s actually a dog, a huge dog. The dog is staring intently at the back door, his head slightly tilted, in a very un-doglike manner.

Lyall frowns and without hesitation stalks over, aiming his wand at the intruder. “I’ve worked at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for twenty-five years, so don’t bother trying to pretend,” his voice booms through the quiet morning and the dog gives a start. “I can tell the difference between an actual animal and an Animagus,” Lyall continues. “I’m going to give you five seconds to reveal yourself and tell me why you are trespassing on my property and watching my house. One. Two.”

He doesn’t have to count any further, as the dog begins to shift, and moments later, no one other than Sirius Black is hastily scrambling to his feet.

“Black.” The surprise and shock are evident in his voice. A full Animagus, at his age? He must’ve started the process when he was no older than thirteen! But how could anyone accomplish such a feat at that age?

“Mister Lupin,” Black says quickly. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to be trespassing. I swear I have no ill intentions.”

Lyall is still staring at him. It’s unheard of, it’s remarkable, it’s... illegal. As the implication hits him, Lyall narrows his eyes at Black. “You are not on the Registry.”

“No,” Black admits. “No, I am not.”

“You can’t tell me that you weren’t aware of the strict approval procedure and the obligatory registration.”

“I was aware of it, but...”

“But what?” Lyall snaps. “But you didn’t think the rules and regulations applied to you?” He scoffs. “That’s quite a persistent family trait of yours, isn’t it?”

Black’s cheeks flush. “That’s not what it’s like!”

“What else than that inborn arrogance could make you think you can place yourself above the law?” Lyall retorts. He knows that it shouldn’t feel as satisfying as it does to put Black in his place, but he can’t help but think back at the events at his job. When the promotion he had been working so hard for was given to one of Orion Black’s precious pureblood friends instead, simply because the man had pulled some strings and probably paid some money, and the older Black had just sat there smirking when Lyall was being called into the office to be delivered the news, Lyall hadn’t been able to do anything else but say ‘yes, sir’, ‘of course, sir’, and ‘I understand, sir’. He knows that Sirius Black isn’t Orion Black, but with that trademark complexion, sharp features and haughty air, he looks enough like his father for Lyall to be eager to call him out, the way he hadn’t been able to before. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a voice keeps reminding him that it’s not fair to take his frustrations out on the boy, but then again, the boy did break the law, and at least one Black will find out his actions have consequences.

“I couldn’t ask for approval,” Black says defensively. “I was thirteen when I started the process, .”

“Right,” Lyall says. “And of course the idea of Sirius Black not getting his way for once is completely unimaginable. Probably figured you could do whatever you want and there won’t be any consequences.” Because there were never any consequences for the Blacks, were there? Not when they busied themselves with the Dark Arts, not when they bribed Ministry officials, not when they illegally became an Animagus.

Well, this time there would be consequences.

“I will report you to the Ministry,” he tells Black coolly. “You’ll be lucky if you’ll only get expelled, but I don’t think even with your last name, you’re going be that lucky.”

He turns to walk back into the house, when he hears Black speak up “A werewolf is no danger to an Animagus.”

Lyall freezes, then slowly turns back around towards the boy. “What?”

“A werewolf,” Black repeats, looking at Lyall intently, his hands clenched into fists by his side. “Is not dangerous when you’re in an Animagus form. As an Animagus, you can keep him company during the full moon, and, especially as one large enough, you can steer his behaviour. It... helps him. Keeps him distracted, prevents him from hurting himself, calms him down, even. It makes the transformation more bearable.”

Lyall stares at him wide-eyed, his mouth parted in shock. “You...”

“Since second year,” Black answers the unasked question. “It’s why I started the process. Why I had to start the process. I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to do it, but I had to try. For Remus, I had to.”

Lyall thinks back to these past years. How, at the start of his fifth year, Remus’ transformations had suddenly become easier somehow. How he was in the Hospital Wing less, suffered less pain, had less injuries and less wounds. He began to not even dread the full moons anymore, ‘it’s really not that bad,’ he had told his parents with a grin.

Hope didn’t have to spend the days surrounding the full moon pacing the room, not eating, withdrawn, pale and scared anymore. Her mood improved, and it was so good to see her smile more often. A burden had been lifted off of all their shoulders.

‘Did you know the transformations could become better with age?’ His wife had asked Lyall, her eyes filled with hope and wonder. He hadn’t known, and truthfully, didn’t really understand, but he thanked Merlin every day for the relief they had been granted, for the happiness of the two people who meant most to him in the world.

Could it be that all this time it hadn’t been Merlin he had to thank, but Sirius Black?

“Report me if you must,” Black says. “But I don’t regret it. While he thought no one could, I did help Remus, so no matter what, it was worth it.”

“Help?” Lyall asks. “You found out, and your reaction was to help?”

A common reaction to finding out you are going to school with a werewolf, let alone share a dorm with a werewolf, would be fear, disgust, reporting it to the Ministry, telling your parents, telling your classmates. It’s how most people would’ve reacted. It’s how I would’ve reacted, Lyall thinks, with a not insignificant amount of shame. ‘Soulless, evil, deserving nothing but death’, that was how he had viewed werewolves, before his own son had become one.

But here Sirius Black had found out, and had not only kept Remus’ secret, but remained his friend and did something dangerous, something that should’ve been impossible, only to help Remus.

But how could a Black, a family of people who always look down their noses at other people, who place themselves above everyone else, and who think they are just naturally born better than others, simply accept? Doesn’t it go against his very nature? It doesn’t make sense to Lyall.

“You don’t make sense to me,” he tells Black.

Black shrugs. “Everything I say and do will make perfect sense of you just keep one factor in mind.”

“And that is?”

“I love Remus,” Black simply says.

Lyall just regards Black for a moment. He begins to think that maybe he actually doesn’t know the boy’s very nature at all. It wouldn’t be the fist time for him to learn that his preconceived notions have been wrong.

It’s okay to make mistakes, as long as you learn from them.

Isn’t that something he has always tried to teach his son? Maybe it’s time to practice what he preaches? So, give the boy a fair chance?

Lyall nods to himself and then addresses Black.

“So, how are you with sheep?”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #lyall lupin #remus doesn't match with sheep

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wolfstargazer · 3 months

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Jan 13 - Strong - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 300

He hadn't been certain he'd be going.

But James had sat him down after breakfast and said with uncharacteristic firmness, "We are going Padfoot. He needs us."

Peter's suit was too big. James wished he'd brought a scarf. And Sirius, always running hot, felt his blood freeze as they made their way down the path towards the house.

There were lots of Muggles there. And many witches and wizards too, although the Muggles might have struggled to have picked them out in their sombre clothes.

Sirius had met Lyall once or twice. But if he recognised the boys, he didn't seem to register as he stood at the door and shook their hands.

"Thank you for coming."

Sirius willed himself to speak. But it was James who took the lead and reminded Lyall gently, "We're Remus' friends from school, Mr Lupin? James, and Peter, and Sirius."

"Oh yes," he said. "Remus is upstairs, I think. No doubt he'll want to see you."

It felt like an interminable climb to the top of the house. Peter gave a light knock on the door, and James said, "It's us," before lifting the latch and going in.

Remus was sat on the bed, shirt crumpled, surrounded by books and parchment. He looked up as they entered, his eyes red-rimmed, and Sirius' chest tightened as Remus stood up and tried to smile.

"I'm so sorry, Moony," James said. Peter nodded. Sirius didn't know what to say.

He watched as Remus crumbled. With tears in his eyes, he crossed the room and fell into Sirius' arms.

Suddenly, Sirius knew what to do. He stood fast, wrapped two strong arms about his friend and held him as he cried, the silent sobs of a boy who'd lost his mother, and whispered the words he'd finally found, "I am here."

#mauraders #wolfstar #remus x sirius #marauders era #sirius black #the marauders #remus lupin #microfiction #wolfstar microfic #dead gay wizards #james potter #peter pettigrew #lyall lupin #wolfstar microfiction #wolfstargazer microfic #clare mansfield microfic #strong #wolfstarmicrofic

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largecoldbrew · 1 year

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Teulu

Lyall, Hope, and Remus

#the lupin family #remus lupin #hope lupin #lyall lupin #marauders fanart #the marauders #hp #remus #I think that means family in welsh #just some doodles

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wild-flowerhoney · 4 months

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sirius and regulus run away AU but make it moonwater/moonseeker

they do go to the potters and sirius immediately fits in, they're a family of eccentric extroverts and that's exactly the kind of people sirius adores - regulus doesn't, though. he still has hang ups about james, euphemia is Amazing but he's truly not comfortable with her expansive nature and fleamont is just barely better.

anyway remus stays for a bit during summer and the plan is to bring him home (the lupins dont have a floo connection) and stay for dinner there. except. hope is immediately enamoured with the tiny, sarcastic teenager standing moodily behind his older brother - reg is quiet and looking at the bookcases more than at them but still managing to snark and jokingly insult the others in a way that makes her genuinely laugh. and remus is so clearly fond of him, the two of them going back and forth easily.

and regulus likes her too - hope is warm but quiet, motherly but in a subtle way. and lyall is gruff and clearly doesn't know what to do with all these teenagers but he still looks at his family with love even if he doesn't know how to show it. they're a little broken, a little less clean and polished than the potters are. and regulus likes it that way, prefers their quaint little home (with the yellow paint peeling off of the old wooden front door) to the splendour of potter manor.

he visits often, during that summer. until he's pretty much only going back for sirius (living without his brother, even after everything, would be too unnatural) because he's got his own bed at the lupins', his own bookcase and space in remus' closet.

(sirius knows his younger brother. he pushes reg to accept the offer of staying over more often, even if it feels weird to have breakfast without him outside of hogwarts. he stays at the lupins' himself, as much as he can, just to give reg more opportunities. sirius has a mother in euphemia, regulus wont let himself admit the same about hope.

sirius has only ever wanted happiness, for his little brother. he wont let regulus give up on it for his sake. )

this is all to say: reg at home with the lupins, building a close friendship with remus and falling in love with him through late night talks and mornings spent together and long nights crying softly under the light of the full moon - hope has two sons now, both happier than they've ever been. lyall watching his wife and son welcome another boy into the family is exactly the kind of shock he needs to start proving that he can be part of it too. remus and regulus being loved and loving in return. life has never been so good.

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lulublack90 · 12 days

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Prompt 12 - College AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 12, word count 408

Remus didn’t think he’d make it to college. He’d scraped through his GCSEs, and A-Levels would be so much harder. But he felt better now. The doctors had finally figured out which meds worked for him, and he could go the whole day without feeling horrendous. But the piece of paper he clutched in his hand gave him hope.

His parents sat across from him at the kitchen table, waiting for him to tell them what it said.

“What does it say, cariad?” His mother asked. He looked up at her, blinking the tears back.

“Well?” His father asked impatiently.

“I got in.” He grinned at his parents. “I got in!” Hope jumped to her feet and enveloped him in a hug as he began to sob. Lyall rolled his eyes but came to join in the hug as well.

“Well done, son. I’m proud of you.” His father told him. Remus didn’t think he’d ever said that to him.

“Can I call Sirius?” He pleaded. They were supposed to be going out for the day. Lyall had them on a strict itinerary, and Remus had already wasted time staring at his letter.

“Oh, let the boy call his Beau, Lyall. What’s ten minutes?” She cooed at her husband as she purposely wrapped her arms around him and used her slippered foot to push Remus towards the door. She winked at him when he looked back.

Sirius picked up on the first ring.

“I got in!” Remus trilled. He knew Sirius had been worrying as much as he’d been and didn’t want to keep him in suspense.

“Really?! Yes! So did I! Remus, this is amazing! We’re going to have so much fun!” Remus indulged his boyfriend, letting him make plans for them for the next two years. He made Remus a promise to help him with his coursework if he wanted him to and got Remus to promise to help him if he needed it.

His father appeared, tapping his watch, and Remus nodded.

“Sirius love, we’re going out for the day, and my dad’s waiting.” He reluctantly cut Sirius and his sweet ramblings off.

“Oh, no worries. Have fun. Say hi to Lyall for me and give Hope a kiss from me. Love you.” He blew a loud kiss down the phone to Remus, making Remus smile.

“Love you too.”

So far, this was shaping up to be the best day he’d had in a while.

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar fic #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar au #remus lupin #sirius black #hope lupin #lyall lupin #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #sirius and remus #remus and sirius #fluff #College AU

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multishipperofgaydeadwizards · 28 days

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the lupin family has a farm btw. lyall bought it shortly after remus was bitten.

remus had a favorite cow named cookie. pandora loved the chicken (she called them all dora)

there was a big shed in the woods secured with magic so that remus could run around in it every full moon in hopes he would be less injured (it help a little bit)

#lupin family my loves <3 #marauders #marauders era #marauders fandom #remus lupin #pandora lovegood #pandora lupin #lyall lupin #hope lupin

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whysosiriushuh · 2 months

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Rr'ing crimson rivers. Everyone talks about the great big tragedy the fic is so I'm making a post appreciating zar's comedic genius

Warning: Its hella long

******************

"You heard me. Come off it, lover boy. Don't pretend you can't climb; I've seen James, he's taller, and you're not going to tell me you're not climbing him, are you?"

Regulus takes it all back. He rues the day he ever showed an interest in being possible allies with Evan Rosier. Regulus scowls at him, but that only makes him smirk.

"First of all, climbing a person is entirely different from climbing a fucking tree—"

"How so?"

"Trees won't keep me from falling. James has arms."

"Ah, so you have climbed—"

"Rosier, if you want to keep your tongue, you might want to shut up."

******************

"It is. You just don't know it yet. You'll see." James winks at him, but his smile is soft. "Go on, go get your spine realigned."

Sirius' hand flies to his throat instinctively, like a woman clutching at her pearls, staring at James, utterly aghast as he wheezes, "Get my fucking what?"

"Or, you know, realign his spine," James muses, thoughtful, his eyes gleaming with laughter. "Whatever suits your fancy, and his, I suppose."

"You're filthy," Sirius hisses as James laughs again, covering his mouth with his hand. "You're a dirty, dirty man, Potter, and I—I do not want you anywhere near my baby brother."

"Oh, the first chance I get, I'm going to let him snap my spine directly in half," James declares, lifting both hands and tipping his fists apart while making an obscene crunching noise in the back of his throat. The look of pure horror on Sirius' face makes James bust out laughing all over again.

******************

"Well, you just seemed…quite upset," Lyall says awkwardly.

"Not because of the murder thing," Sirius mutters, waving his hand carelessly. He pauses. "That makes me sound rather mental, doesn't it? I just mean, I know that whatever it is, however it happened, it wasn't something inexcusable. No, I was just surprised, honestly, and I do feel like maybe he should have mentioned it. Not that I'm entitled to any information he isn't comfortable sharing, but I do think it's something you tell someone before you have sex with them, at the very least."

It takes a second for the words to catch up with Sirius, and then his eyes bulge as heat creeps up into his face. Lyall's eyebrows are raised very, very high.

"Oh, fuck—I mean, shit—wait, sorry, excuse my language, sir," Sirius chokes out, his voice going high from his rising panic as his heart takes off sprinting in his chest. "I wasn't—I shouldn't have said that. I don't know why I said that. Please don't think I took advantage of Remus. I swear I didn't. It was very mutual, and actually I was super nervous and not really sure about the whole thing—er, sex, I mean, because I'd never even done it, but I trusted Remus, and he was just so lovely—"

"Sirius—"

"I—I didn't force him, I would never, and he had full freedom to do whatever he liked, or didn't. He could have just—beat me up, if necessary. I'm pretty sure I told him that once, actually, and hey, now I know he could have just fucking killed me, so there's that. Shit, sorry, the cursing again. I'm just—I don't mean to be disrespectful in your home, sir, I swear. I'm just panicking a bit, currently, and—and trying to explain that I didn't, in any way, coerce your son into having sex with—"

"Sirius," Lyall interrupts yet again, louder this time.

******************

"Aren't you afraid of heights?" Emmeline muses as he approaches the tree very cautiously.

"No," Regulus snaps defensively, then pauses and kicks lightly at the base of the tree. In a mumble, he confesses, "Yes."

Emmeline coughs. "You'll be able to get back down, right? Without falling, I mean. Because I don't fancy Sirius having a go at me for letting his baby brother climb a tree and get stuck, or worse, fall and break his neck."

"Thank you, Emmeline, for making me feel better about this decision," Regulus says flatly.

"I try," Emmeline replies, amused. "No, but genuinely, should I go get a ladder, or something?"

"That feels like cheating."

"Well, who's going to know?"

Evan is going to give me so much shit for this the next time I see him in my dreams, Regulus thinks precisely five seconds before he looks over at Emmeline and mumbles, "A ladder, you said?"

******************

"James is jealous," Regulus informs him.

"Jealous?" Sirius arches an eyebrow. "Someone sniffing around you, Reggie?"

Regulus breaks out into a grin again, one so rare that Sirius feels his heart clench just looking at it. "Not jealous because of me, you idiot. He's jealous of Frank, because of you."

"What?" Sirius blurts out, bewildered. "But Frank is—I mean, we're just friends." He pauses, then frowns. "Wait, James wouldn't care if Frank was more than a friend anyway."

"Sirius," Regulus says, struggling not to laugh, "he's jealous because you and Frank are friends. James is your best friend, remember? He feels threatened."

Sirius opens his mouth, closes it, then shakes his head in disbelief. "Does he really?"

"Yes. I'm having a great time," Regulus says with a happy sigh, genuinely looking pleased. "It sort of feels like karma, you know? He's also being terribly adorable about the whole thing, but don't tell him I said that."

******************

"How's my sister?" Narcissa asks softly, and for the first time, Sirius wonders if this is why she's truly here.

Sirius purses his lips. "Being a raging bitch in the other room. Why do you ask?"

******************

"A niece," Narcissa whispers, her breath hitching so quietly that he almost misses it. "Do I? What's her name?"

"Nymphadora," Sirius mumbles.

"Now why would she do that to that poor child?" Narcissa asks, shaking her head as she inhales again.

******************

"Hem-hem," Mayor Delores says, clearing her throat over and over until everyone looks at her. She gives Bellatrix a simpering smile. "Feet don't go on the table, dear."

"Forks usually don't go into eyeballs either, but I can make that happen, too," Bellatrix tells her, lifting one foot and dropping it back down to send a fork sailing up from the table through the air, which she snaps her hand out to grab.

******************

"Betrayal is betrayal is betrayal!" Regulus shouts, and he leans back into Sirius harshly as he kicks out with his leg. Sirius can hear Camilla's gasp as the kick lands.

"Betrayal?! You fucking dramatic little—"

"Me?! I'm dramatic?! You're dr—"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Sirius bursts out, officially done with this shit, reaching the end of his rope.

******************

"Reggie, you never crack jokes or laugh at things."

"I—yes, I do. I…do. I have before."

"Name one time," Sirius says, lips twitching.

Regulus opens his mouth, then closes it, then frowns. He sits on that for a second, then says, "James thinks I'm funny."

"James is blinded by love, is what he is," Sirius tells him, clearly exasperated. "He is not an unbiased opinion."

"Before you volunteered," Regulus states finally, and Sirius blinks at him. "The first time, I mean. I know you don't really remember a lot of things from back then, but I—I would occasionally make jokes, and I did laugh a lot more."

Sirius clicks his tongue. "Well, that's tragic."

"Isn't it just?" Regulus agrees dryly.

"I bet you were shit at it even then."

"I wasn't. James laughed, and he didn't even like me before my fifteenth birthday."

******************

"First of all, I would be old and beautiful," Sirius states firmly, holding up a finger. "I am going to be sexy until the day I die, even if I could live until a hundred. Second of all, I will be at the wedding. In spirit. Have it at night under my star. Or just—I don't know, slap a picture of me on a chair and—"

"You're so stupid," Regulus interrupts, then swivels on the spot and stomps off, scowling as he goes.

"James, how do you put up with him?" Sirius groans from behind him. "The chair idea is a good idea, isn't it? You get it. See, now you have to. It's funny! It would be—"

"Stop talking to my fiancé!" Regulus snaps as he continues on, and Sirius doesn't, but he does lower his voice as he follows along, which will just have to do.

******************

"Well," Sirius wheezes, "I definitely won."

"What? No you didn't. You can't prove it," Regulus sputters instantly, which tells Sirius he did, in fact, win.

"Don't be a sore loser," Sirius teases, wrinkling his nose as he inspects his spear. It's covered in gunk. The creatures didn't seem to bleed, but they were very…goopy.

"What are you doing?" Regulus asks.

Sirius continues to pull off his bag, reaching inside to find the cloth he needs. "Cleaning my spear. It's disgusting."

"You have a bit of…" Regulus coughs and gestures to his own hair, then Sirius'.

"What?!" Sirius chokes out, instantly dropping his spear and cloth, hands flying up to his hair in horror.

******************

"Lily?" Dorcas asks tentatively, cringing at the background sound of something clattering, like metal on metal.

"Hi, Dorcas, a little busy here," Lily pants out. "We're, um."

"Problem?"

"What? No. Everything's f—hey! No, step away from the gatling gun! Barty, don't make me leave this cockpit!"

James straightens up. "Barty? Did—sorry, did she just say Barty? Is Barty there? He's alive?"

"Lily?" Dorcas tries again.

"We have this under control," Lily replies, and then there's a choked sob and the distant shout of we're all gonna die!

******************

Sirius hates it. He also chooses to ignore it, much like he's doing with the idea that James is captured here, too. "You're lying. How stupid do you think I am?"

"I need not lie, Sirius."

"Yeah, that's what liars say."

Riddle looks unimpressed with him all over again.

******************

Say the word and I'll run away with you," Sirius murmurs. "We'll abduct everyone we love and take to the seas. Throw them under the deck until we're too far away for them to swim back."

"We wouldn't have to do that to Regulus. He can't even swim."

******************

"Look me in the eye, then," Remus says. "Look at me when you break up with me."

Sirius peeks at him, then quickly looks away. He's chewing on his lip. "What does eye-contact have to do with a breakup? Is that, like, required? I've never dumped anyone before."

"Yes, I can tell," Remus replies dryly. "You're rather shit at it."

******************

"War doesn't, though," Marlene comments. "So, you know, time to fight and whatnot. Do you think we'll get matching outfits? We should color-coordinate."

Sirius snorts. "Now there's a thought. Could you imagine?"

"I'm thinking…" Marlene purses her lips. "Hm, yellow?"

"Ooh, I like yellow," Pandora says. "We'd smash it in yellow."

"No, it shows blood too well," Remus counters. "You definitely want to go with darker colors."

"Or red, to blend," Lily suggests, coughing around a laugh, doing her absolute best not to look at Remus with their shared sense of humor. She fails, and Remus grins at her.

"Black is a good war color," Sybill muses. "Like, matte black. Not glossy. Something hardy, kind of rough."

"Hear me out," Mary says, holding up her hands and spreading them like presenting a banner. "Orange."

"Or we could just all go in different colors and come at them like a rainbow," Dorcas says, lips curling up.

"Naked," Sirius declares. "We should go into war completely fucking nude. They wouldn't know what to do."

******************

"Bit far-fetched, that," Marlene muses. "I mean, we'll get old. Old people don't fuck."

Dorcas lifts her head, eyebrows raised. "Yes, they do."

"Nah," Marlene protests, waving a hand.

"Marlene, they absolutely do," Dorcas says through laughter, watching Marlene purse her lips. "People don't stop being people when they get older, you know. They continue living and such, and if they like sex, they have it."

"You mean to tell me that old people fuck?" Marlene asks, looking like this is the worst news she's heard all week. She looks horrified. "So, like, Dumbledore—"

"Gah!" Dorcas bursts out, flinching instinctively. "No! Why would you put that in my brain?!"

Marlene grimaces. "Sorry, but he's the oldest person I can think of. Alright, Minerva and Poppy, then?"

"Marlene!" Dorcas protests in horror.

"What?!"

"They're like—my adopted parents!"

******************

"I'm warning you, Tim," Regulus snaps, "if you touch me, you're going to die."

Tim doesn't listen to him, and five minutes later, Regulus is breaking Tim's hand and kicking not-Tim into a signpost before launching another not-Tim into the side of a car so hard that the window crunches and dents in with splintered glass from the impact of their body. Tim yells from his knees, fingers going in all the wrong directions, and Regulus is just about to snap his neck when a new not-Tim comes flying out of nowhere to tackle Regulus to the ground.

There's a scuffle. Regulus may or may not nearly rip someone's ear off. Either way, by the end, Regulus stands up to find many bodies of not-Tims littered all around him, while Tim himself is dead at Narcissa's feet. Look who finally showed back up.

Well, Regulus told Tim he'd die. No one ever listens to him. Maybe they should; he's starting to think he's some sort of prophet or something.

******************

"Baby? What baby? Who's baby?" Alecto asks as she dumps herself down at the table with a weary sigh, looking very, very tired. Burgundy and Belfast are fighting over Dora the second they arrive. "Gun, Bel, no hitting!"

"But Auntie! He's being stupid!" Burgundy shrieks.

"Dora likes me the most! Tell her, Auntie!" Belfast yells.

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

"Does—"

"Enough!" Alecto bursts out, slamming her hand down to the table and making Burgundy and Belfast shut up very quickly. Nymphadora looks like she's having the time of her life, but Alecto? Not so much. She breathes very, very carefully. "I know the concept is hard to grasp in your puny, developing brains, but you two can share Dora's company, and be her friend at the same time. Now, the next time one of you hits each other, I'm going to break your fingers. Got it?"

"Got it," Burgundy and Belfast mumble, hanging their heads, and five minutes later they're peacefully sharing Dora.

Alecto cradles her head between both hands, eyes sinking shut as she mutters, "I fucking hate kids."

"No!" Alecto blurts out. "No, don't do this to me. Please, for the sake of my sanity, don't have a baby."

"What does this have anything to do with you?" Narcissa asks.

Alecto groans and drops her head to the table, so Sirius helpfully answers, "Cissa, come on, she's obviously in love with you."

"That," Alecto mutters, pointing weakly at Sirius.

"And she hates kids," Sirius adds.

"Also that," Alecto agrees.

Narcissa considers her for a long moment, then says, "Well, you're very dear to me, you know this, but I want to be a mother, so either move on or settle in."

"Can I just spoil it with gifts and you handle the rest?"

"Well, I was planning to handle it all anyway, so sure."

Sirius snorts. "Yeah, okay, fair enough. I don't want anything that cunt owned anyway."

"Sirius!"

"What, Reggie? I'm just saying!"

"Well, maybe don't just say!"

"I can say what I like!"

"You shouldn't."

"But I can."

"But you shouldn't."

"But I can."

"But you shouldn't."

"But I—"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Alecto bursts out, slamming her way to her feet, making her chair and the table clatter

******************

"Well, don't stand around, Remus. Let him in," Lyall says, clicking his tongue. "Been worried about him."

Me? Sirius mouths, looking mildly alarmed, and Remus chuckles as he reaches out to grab Sirius' arm and tug him inside. Sirius smiles at Lyall. "Hello, Mr—um. Sorry, Lyall."

"Nice to see you again, Sirius," Lyall greets, amused. "You seem well, all things considered. Are you well?"

"Well enough," Sirius says, "all things considered."

Lyall's lips twitch. "That's fair."

"You look well, too, sir," Sirius adds. "I'm glad you're not dead." Remus snorts the moment Sirius looks horrified by the words that just tumbled out of his mouth. "Sh—oot, sorry. I mean, it's true, but that's—there wasn't very much tact in how I said it, was there? Just—I'm glad you're okay. That's what—"

"Remus," Lyall cuts in, "are you sure you found him in the Hallow? Absolutely sure?"

"Actually," Remus corrects fondly, "he found me."

"Respectfully," Sirius says. "In a very respectful manner. I treat Remus with the utmost respect."

"This isn't true," Remus lies, and Sirius chokes, his head whipping towards him in disbelief. "Dad, he uses me for sexual favors and tells me he owns me."

"I do not!" Sirius bursts out, eyes bulging. "I have never—"

"He makes me do his laundry—"

"Remus!"

"I even cook for him—"

"You're literally a cook here! You cook for everyone."

Remus keeps his face perfectly neutral when he adds, "And he won't let me break up with him either."

"That was you!" Sirius yelps, his head swiveling to look at Lyall, whose shoulders are shaking. "Sir, he's—oh. You're laughing. You're—" He stops, then flicks his gaze between Remus and Lyall, and Remus finally breaks out into a grin. Sirius huffs. "Oh, for f—ah, that wasn't funny!"

******************

"What?" Regulus mutters, scowling. "Look, I know that seems extreme, but it's important, alright? I'm always going to have it on me as a reminder, and because—honestly, as strange as it may be, that's a comfort to me." He pauses. "Well, not in bed, obviously. You don't have to worry about that."

James coughs. "Oh. Right. That's…great."

"Were you worried?" Regulus asks, frowning now, admittedly stung by the thought. "James, I'd never hurt you, especially not with a damn dagger."

"Never?" James asks weakly.

Regulus cards his fingers through his hair, trying to get his gaze to fall away from the dagger. "Never. I promise."

James bites his lip. "Not even if—"

"Never," Regulus cuts in, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at him, wanting to reassure him. "Never, James, not for any reason."

"Oh," James mumbles, wilting a little bit with what Regulus imagines is relief. "Um, yay for me, I…guess."

******************

Sirius hums. "Yeah, exactly. We're okay. We will be. Come here, can we kiss and make up now?"

"Regulus and Remus are peering through the drapes, being nosy," James muses. "Mum, too."

"Ah, in that case," Sirius teases lightly, then makes a big show of throwing his arms around James very dramatically while pressing an over-the-top, smacking kiss to each of James' cheeks, winking at him as he pulls away. "There, now they'll know we're alright. Nothing to worry about."

James frowns. "Did they all know before me?"

Sirius freezes like a spooked horse, then coughs and tosses his arm over James' shoulders. "Say, let's head in, yeah? Come on, if we turn around really fast, we can make the others scramble all over themselves to get away from the window."

When he and Sirius swivel around in perfect sync, Regulus and Remus do, in fact, hastily jerk back from the window. Effie doesn't. She looks out at them, and she smiles.

******************

"Sirius Black," Sirius greets, reaching out to shake Ken's hand, leaning in to wink and whisper, "but you knew that."

"I—yeah, hey, hi," Ken replies, stumbling over his words, so visibly flustered that Remus almost pities him. Almost.

"I'm sure you have a very good reason for being here, Low Bar, but—"

"Barlowe, actually, um—"

"Very low bar. I could trip over you," Sirius says, then laughs like that's not even the least bit insulting, and his laugh is so lovely and charming that Ken—poor Ken—laughs with him, as if the insult hasn't even registered to him. "Anyway, this can continue in just a moment, whatever reason you have to be here. Remus has to turn his attention to something more important, which is me."

Then, with that, Sirius twirls around and plucks the mug out of Remus' hands before smiling at him, warm and sweet, and reaching up to cradle his face tenderly, intimately, then kisses him

"A miracle. He called you a miracle, right in front of me! I'm standing right here! Hello? Can you see me? Am I invisible?" Sirius sputters, looking absolutely appalled.

Lyall immediately dissolves into laughter.

"I have killed people!" Sirius yelps. "I've killed so many people that I don't even know how many it's been, and he just—oh, I could have killed him so easily, what the fuck?!"

Lyall is wheezing.

"He's gifting you puppies and calling you a miracle—am I fucking joke to him?" Sirius demands. "Does he not know I can and will rip his tongue out of his head? I can do it! I—"

Lyall bangs his hand down on the table, gasping for air, laughing so hard he's in tears.

"Sirius," Remus says, biting down on the inside of cheek.

Nostrils flaring, Sirius fixes his gaze on Remus, lips pursing like he's tasting something sour. "He's trying to win you over. He comes with compliments and puppies—"

"It's not a competition—"

"He comes here and tries to act chummy with your dad—"

"I think he was just being polite—"

"Barlowe? Barlowe? What a pathetic name. Fucking low bar of a name and a low bar of a human being—"

"Well, that's not very polite—"

"Offering you puppies—"

"Sirius—"

"Calling you a miracle—"

"Sirius—"

"Addressing you by that stupid fucking nickname—"

Lyall is going to keel over here in a second, just from laughing so hard, and Remus is almost genuinely concerned for his health. He's an older man, quite out of breath, getting a bit red in the face. Huffing in fond exasperation, Remus reaches out to catch Sirius' arm and drag him out of the room.

"How dare he? Puppies?" Sirius hisses as Remus shuts the door behind them. "Remus, he brought puppies!"

"He did, yes," Remus agrees. Sirius looks absolutely enraged by this, which shouldn't be as hilarious as it is. "Obviously since he brought puppies, I now have to run off with him, as he is the superior gift-giver and has won my affections once more. That is all it takes for me. Puppies."

******************

"What about us?"

"You know, what are we doing?"

"Perusing district six's market," Remus says lightly.

Sirius stops holding his hand, like a punishment. He crosses his arms. "You know that's not what I meant. Kids, Remus. We've never talked about it."

"We haven't talked about a lot of things," Remus replies.

"Other things aren't as…serious as this."

"Marriage isn't?"

"I don't think so," Sirius says slowly. "We'll get married, obviously."

Remus' eyebrows fly up. "Oh, will we?"

"Won't we?" Sirius asks, eyebrows furrowed. Remus stares at him, keeps staring at him, and Sirius thinks about it, thinks about it, thinks about— "Oh! Oh, I just—I went about that the wrong way, didn't I? Wait, scratch that. Pretend I never said it. I didn't say that. Who, me? No, never. Um."

"Sirius," Remus says, watching him look around with visible amusement, gaze soft.

Sirius snatches up a half-bent spoon for sale off the table, old and chipped, though the handle is intricately carved. He holds it up and says, "Okay, will you marry me?"

"What?" Remus wheezes, cracking up laughing immediately.

"It's—it's the first thing I grabbed—"

"You can't propose to me with a spoon—"

"Watch me," Sirius argues stubbornly, then goes to one knee, which makes Remus' eyes bulge, his laughter cutting out all at once. "Remus Lupin—"

"Sirius!" Remus hisses, hands darting out frantically to tug at his elbows, looking around furtively as people stare at them in blatant curiosity, his cheeks stained red. "You lunatic, you can't just—fuck's sake, are you mad?"

"I can't believe you're proposing to me with a spoon," Remus whispers.

"I, um, also can't believe I'm proposing to you with a spoon," Sirius admits sheepishly. "I may have—gotten ahead of myself. Sorry. You deserve way better, but like, I'm in this now. Sort of have to see it through, at this point."

Remus laughs, one of his hands lifting toward his mouth, fingers gently pressing against his own smile, like he wants to feel it. "You're a mess, you know that?"

When they break apart, Remus is grinning again, and Sirius leans in and bumps their noses together. He has never felt better than he does at this moment.

"Excuse me. Hey, excuse me," says the person working the stall they're next to. "You still have to pay for the spoon."

Sirius' expression falls flat, and Remus immediately erupts into laughter that he has to bury in Sirius' shoulder. Sirius cups the back of his head and turns a slow, deadly glare on the person daring to interrupt their moment. One look is all it takes. That look is all it takes.

They get the spoon for free.

"With a spoon?" Lily asks.

Remus huffs a laugh and nods. "With a damn spoon."

"Was it at least a nice spoon?"

"Worst spoon I've ever seen."

Lily purses her lips, then says, "I'll kill him."

"It was the most romantic thing that anyone's ever done for me," Remus tells her.

"Okay, resurrecting him," Lily amends

54 notes · View notes

pinklume · 1 month

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Trans girl Remus n when she comes out to Lyall all he says is ‘you’ll still come out to the bog with me right?🤨’

#remus lupin #Lyall Lupin

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postnuclearel · 7 days

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LYALL LUPIN WASNT A BAD FATHER!

Imagine your son gets bitten by a werewolf when he’s four, and you have to lock him in a closet or whatever every month and listen to him calling for his mum and dad knowing you can’t go to him.

No-one in the wizarding world world would be prepared for that. They wouldn’t know how to raise a werewolf because it’s not something you would ever expect to have to do. Yes, he was probably distant, emotionally and physically, but he tried his best.

Some fics hc that he killed himself because Remus was a werewolf. That could be taken as that he was ashamed, but honestly it makes so much more sense that he felt guilty. His four year old son was attacked and he didn’t/couldn’t stop it, and then he had to deal with listening to his son in pain every month, probably blaming himself 24/7, convincing himself that it’s his fault that his son will never be able to go to Hogwarts and live a normal life.

And then imagine him watching Remus get the letter in the post. Imagine how scared he must have been for him. Imagine him spending every full moon restless and unable to sleep, terrified that this time would be the one where Remus was sent home, or worse, sent to prison.

#marauders #marauders era #sirius black #harry potter #james potter #james x regulus #jegulus #regulus black #remus lupin #fanfic #remus x sirius #lyall lupin #hope lupin #just hate it when they write him as evil tbh

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snorp-snorp · 1 year

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Lyall Lupin in canon:

I love 💕 my wife and son. My prejudices used to be a fault, but after my son turned into a werewolf, I worked hard to provide Remus with the accommodation he needs. Even if I over-worry at times, it’s not because I don’t trust him, but because I’m weary of the bigoted, incompetent system I used to support. I’m grateful for the education and friendships Hogwarts was able to supply. I’m always happy to see Remus, and will offer all the support I can as a father :)) ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Lyall Lupin in fanon:

nah fuck my son 🥱 lame ass doggy bitch

just some proof btw (source: Pottermore)

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engie-ivy · 11 months

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(Lyall Lupin being a Good Dad for his anxious son in law😁 For @wolfstarmicrofic)

9th: Cosy

1039 words

Lyall goes to use the toilet, and ends up adopting a new son.

Your New Family

“Really, Lyall?” Hope places her hands on her hips. “We just got here!”

“Sorry dear,” Lyall says cheerily. “But that’s the price you pay for becoming an old man, very frequent toilet breaks. Besides,” he adds. “With all your fretting about not being late, we’re like twenty minutes early, so now’s the perfect time.”

Hope rolls her eyes, a gesture Lyall is all too familiar with, and goes to inquire whether their table is already available, while Lyall strolls to the restrooms.

When he’s relieved himself and walks over to the sinks, there’s a boy pacing up and down. Well, maybe he’s more a young man, looking rather handsome with his fancy shoes, crisp white shirt, fitted suit jacket and long hair neatly tied into a pony tail, but to Lyall, he’s still a boy.

As Lyall is washing his hands, the boy leans on the sink next to him, staring at his reflection in the mirror, while taking what seem to be calming breaths.

Lyall meets the boy’s sharp grey eyes in the mirror. “Everything alright, lad?”

“Ah,” the boy says, looking slightly flustered. “Yes. Yes, I’m sorry, sir. Please, don’t mind me. I’m just...” He gestures vaguely with his hand. “Anxious, I guess.”

Lyall smiles at him as he turns off the tap. “On a big date?”

“No,” the boy says. “Not really. I mean, sort of, I guess.” The boy makes a move as if he wants to run his hand through his hair, showing that he’s not used to having it tied up. He settles for tugging at his pony tail. “I’m meeting my boyfriend’s parents for the first time. They’ll be here in...” He checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes. Fuck.” He presses his hand against his forehead. “Pardon my language,” he says after a quick glance at Lyall.

“Ah,” Lyall says, as something starts to dawn on him. “And you don’t think they’ll be... nice people?”

“They’re the best people!” The boy exclaims. “Going by what my boyfriend has been telling me at least, they’re really great.” He shakes his head. “But that’s just the fucking- I mean, that’s just the bloody problem, innit?”

Lyall tilts his head as he dries his hands with a paper towel. “How so?”

The boy shrugs. “My boyfriend comes from this warm and loving family, and he’s really close to his parents. It’s important to him that I get along with them.”

“Right.” Lyall nods in understanding. “And that of course puts a lot of pressure on you.”

The boy sighs. “I’m just scared I’ll fuck it- sorry, I’ll mess it up. I mean, what do I know about bonding with parents? I couldn’t even get my own bloody parents to even like me, and they’re supposed to have been programmed to love me!”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lyall says sincerely.

“He’s envisioning this whole future, y’know?” The boy continues, now letting it all come out. “Coming together for birthdays, celebrating Christmases together, Sunday brunches at his parents’ place... He’s picturing this harmonious, cosy family, and I sure as hell can’t offer him that from my side, so if his parents don’t like me, I’ll take all of that away from him.”

Lyall looks at him sympathetically. “Sounds like it’s really important to you.”

The boy looks away. “I just don’t want to disappoint him,” he says softly. Then he lets out a humourless laugh. “God, I’m sorry. I swear I don’t normally trauma-dump on strangers in the restroom like this!”

“No, no,” Lyall says. “I asked, so don’t worry about it, lad. And the fact that You’re so anxious only means that this guy really means a lot to you.”

“He means everything to me,” the boy says without a moment of hesitation. He smiles to himself. “I can’t even explain. I mean... if I can’t give him everything, if he can find someone who can, who will make him happier, then I want him to break up with me, y’know? Even if it’ll completely destroy me. It’s like.... nothing matters besides his happiness.” He shakes his head. “I’m probably not making much sense. I’ve honestly never felt like this before.”

Lyall feels a warmth somewhere in his chest. “You know, lad, all a parent want is for their child to be happy...”

“But I don’t know that,” the boy interrupts, before adding quietly “Mine sure never did...”

Lyall feels a surge of fatherly protectiveness wash over him, for a boy he only just met! “I’m sorry you had that experience,” he says, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “But take it from me, if they are indeed the good people your boyfriend has made them out to be, then that will be the only thing that matters,” he says firmly. “So if you love your guy-”

“I do,” the boy immediately says. “I love him so, so much.”

Lyall regards him fondly, gently squeezing his shoulder. “Then trust me, that will be enough for them. It won’t matter if you’re wearing a fancy jacket, or if you’re hair is neatly tied up, or if you let slip the occasional curse word. If he loves you and you love him, and you make him happy, then that is going to be more than enough.”

The boy gives him a grateful look. “Well, then I have nothing to worry about,” he then says with a grin. “Loving him is actually my specialty!”

Lyall lets out a laugh. “Sounds like you’re going to be just fine!”

Suddenly, the boy gives him a hug. Lyall is startled for a moment, but then easily hugs him back.

“Thank you,” the boy says, pulling away. “I’m sure this isn’t what you were expecting when you just wanted to use the toilet, but I appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lyall says. “And I’m sure your new family will grow to love you.”

The boy grins at him. “Alright, here I go. Wish me luck!”

“You don’t need it, lad.”

The boy chuckles. “If Remus’ dad is even slightly like you, I’m sure I’ll be fine!” And then he dashes out of the restroom.

Lyall looks in the mirror and smiles to himself. “I’ve got a sense that he will be.”

Now with a part 2!

Part 2: Your New Son

704 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 6 months

Note

So I just reread the fic about Jules birthday, and I’ve always liked the part where Remus tells Jules that he’ll always be more important than hockey. Could you write a fic about that if you haven’t already? Like Remus leaving in the middle of practice or something like that? Idk it’s up to u:)

Fic O'Ween Day 3: Midnight! Read more amazing works from these prompts at @noots-fic-fests and of course, character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW illness (coughing, mentioned vomiting, fatigue)

Remus leaned against the countertop for support and stared at the floor. “But he’s okay, right?”

“He’s okay,” his mother answered. She sounded beyond exhausted.

Remus nodded and rubbed his fingers under his eye. The night suddenly seemed so much darker. “How’re you and dad? Taking time off?”

“We’re alright.” He knew that low edge to her voice—it was the same one his own took on when he was trying to hide his hurt. Silence fell over the line.

“Mom.”

“Your dad can’t get PTO this week and neither can I.”

She cleared her throat; he closed his eyes. “Can Leanne keep an eye on him?”

“Visiting her daughter in Florida.”

No parents, no neighbors, no way they’re getting a babysitter for a sick kid… “I’ll be on the next flight.”

“Remus, no.”

“There’s nobody else—”

“Honey.” He could see the way her eyebrows drew together in his mind. “Honey, you’re on the road this week.”

“I know.”

“In Montreal.”

“They can handle a couple games without me.”

“You’re practically a rookie, Remus,” his mother insisted. After a pause, she lowered her voice. “You’re not going to damage your career when we can get a babysitter, or—or I can find a couple days off. Hell, your dad’s got a pullout at the office he can rest on.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“Remus John, you have a responsibility to your team.”

“Jules comes first.” If there was one thing Remus would stand by no matter the circumstances, it was his family. The Lions would survive a roadie without him. Jules would never be alone and sick on his watch.

His mother was silent for a long time.

Remus picked at a chip in the granite. “There’s no babysitter that will watch him, is there?”

A sigh traveled down the line. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby. Give Sirius my best. Sleep well.”

“I will,” he lied. The call went dead and he turned, bracing both hands against cool stone. Sirius’ footsteps were soft, his hand gentle. Remus sniffled. His chest was a vise. “Mom says hi.”

Slow circles pressed between his shoulder blades. “What happened?”

“Jules got the flu, and they can’t get time off work to stay home with him.” Fucking assholes in fucking corporate. Remus swallowed around the clog in his throat. “Sounds like he’s pretty sick.”

“Does he need to go to the hospital?”

Remus shook his head. The hand on his back slid down and wrapped around his side, guiding him to lean on Sirius’ chest. “Do you want me to book your flight while you call Coach?”

“Yeah.” His voice was rough. He didn’t let go. “God, I hate being so far away.”

Sirius’ other arm came around him and held him tight.

Remus and his father talked the whole ride home from the airport, and said nothing at all.

The house was just as he left it at Christmas. No snow remained, and little frost—crocuses peeked out of the lawn where the squirrels had snatched and buried them.

Apologies for the late notice, but due to a family emergency, I will be in Wisconsin until the 22nd. Thank you for your understanding.

Rapid responses. Cranky responses. Remus had tried to keep a level head, even through the tremor of his hands on the computer keyboard. The organization wasn’t happy with him, but when were they ever?

It didn’t matter either way. Fine or not, suspension or not, they weren’t going to stop him from making chicken soup and raspberry Emergen-C for his sick little brother. He was damn lucky to have Arthur on his side, easing the retribution from men in offices who had hardly bothered to meet him at the start of the season.

“Your mother’s worried.”

Remus glanced up from his hands. His father was facing forward, brow pinched while he pulled into the driveway. “Yeah.”

The engine turned off with a sputter. “Be gentle, okay?”

“It’s not your fault they wouldn’t give you time—”

“Be gentle.”

Remus bit the inside of his lip and nodded. A goldfish cracker peered out at him from the crevice by the door. This passenger seat always made him feel so small. He slung his backpack out of the seat well and stepped out, letting the crisp air nip his face and bring him back. He needed to come back more. The heartache had lessened, and distance was simply exhausting now. Running fast and far to Gryffindor had seemed so smart before.

The front door still squeaked when he turned the doorknob. Remus was glad for that, at least.

His mother smiled when she saw him. “Hi, baby, how was your flight?”

“Hey, mom.” It was good, he started to say, only to have the words fall from his mind the moment she stepped around the kitchen table and wrapped him in her arms. It’s been a lot I love you I missed you how are you where’s Jules—“Uneventful, thankfully.”

“Good, that’s just the way you want it.” She gave a little sway, one hand cradling the back of his neck. He felt a light pulse of pressure. Her back, ever tense, relaxed slightly. “It’s so good to have you home.”

Remus breathed deep. Lemon-scented cleaning spray and drugstore shampoo, laundry detergent and just-sharpened pencils. He pressed his nose tighter to her shoulder and felt her squeeze him, just a little. “Missed you.”

“Oh, Re,” she sighed. A hand rubbed along his spine for a few hard, grounding, wonderful seconds. Warmth seeped in around his edges. The floor was solid beneath him, the walls sturdy. A kiss found his temple. “Baby, we missed you, too.”

A rattling cough made him wince. “Jeez.”

“I know.” Her face crinkled into a grimace when they separated and she looked back down the hall. “That started up two days ago. Poor thing. Keeps him up at night.”

“Aw.” The cough was followed by a rough throat-clear that made Remus frown. “Fever and everything?”

“102, as of this morning.” Hope ran a palm over his shoulder, the way she tended to right after he came home. Remus tried not to think about that too hard, or else he made himself sad. “You’re sure about this? You could get sick. It’s the middle of the season.”

Remus tried for an encouraging smile. “My immune system’s great, mom. I’m in good shape, I take my multivitamins. Eat my Wheaties, and all that.”

“Hmm.” She scrutinized him for a beat. “You better be.”

“I’m basically indestructible.”

Her laugh bounced off the corners of the house like it always had. “Let’s not get hasty, hon.”

“Mom?”

Remus’ heart sank.

“Dad?” Jules croaked, a little louder. “Did the neighbors come over?”

“Hey, J,” Remus called. The floorboards gave a light groan when he set his bag down at the end of the hall. “It’s me, bud.”

Silence followed. The bathroom nightlight was on, casting the hall in gentle blue. His hand drifted toward the first door on reflex (cool metal knob, lock on the inside, jimmy it three times in the winter when the frame sticks), but he managed to step past it and knock lightly below the ‘J LUPIN. DO NOT ENTER.’ sign scotch-taped to the old wood.

“Jules? I’m opening the door.”

The first thing that hit him was the smell. Stale, sweaty, feverish—Remus did a double-take without meaning to.

“Jesus Christ, dude.”

“Oh, you weren’t kidding,” Jules rasped from somewhere to his right. “Hey. Hi, why are you here?”

“You slept too long. It’s June. I’m here for the summer.”

“Hey.”

“You’re sick, dummy.” Remus tried to be subtle about propping the door open wider with a loose hockey glove. “I’m taking care of you.”

With the new, faint light from the hallway, he could see just how terrible Julian looked. His unconvinced squint didn’t help the sallowness of his skin or the heavy bags carved under his eyes. “Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Nuh-uh, you have a roadie in—” Another hacking cough interrupted him. It shook his tiny frame hard enough to make his knees bend under the covers. Remus’ heart gave an acid lurch.

Agitated heat radiated off him to the point that Remus could feel it when he perched on the edge of the bed. The sheets were a tangled mess; one blanket half-tucked, the other mostly on the floor. “Deep breaths,” he soothed when the coughing turned to a few aggressive sniffles. “Take it easy.”

“Montreal,” Jules finished in a mutter. He wiped his nose on the edge of his baggy t-shirt (almost certainly their father’s, with the way it dwarfed him) and laid back with a long huff. “You got a roadie in Montreal. Dad ‘n me are gonna watch the game.”

“Dad and I.”

“Shhh.”

He smiled to himself and tugged the top blanket down to shimmy the next one into position. “Well, you and I can watch it. How’s that sound?”

“No, you need to play,” Jules groaned, but even that was weak. He curled onto his side and peeked out of his huddle, dull-eyed and flushed. “How come you’re here anyway?”

“Told you. I’m taking care of you.”

“But hockey.”

“But you.”

“But…hockey.”

“But you.” His stomach gave a little pull. “You’re more important than a couple games, bud.”

Jules didn’t look like he believed him. “…okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“No, you’re R—”

“Don’t you—” Remus bit back his words (and his grin) and whacked lightly at the outline of Jules’ legs under the blankets, coaxing a crunchy sort of laugh from him. “Watch it. I’m in charge of feeding you for the next few days.”

Jules’ giggling trickled out with a last sniff. “Mom and Dad gotta go to work, huh?”

“Yeah.” The wrinkle of his nose was almost certainly reflected on Remus’ face. “But hey, we’ll have fun.”

“Mmm.”

The air shifted, along with his gut. Jules’ breaths were heavier. His eyes, lidded. His forehead was far too hot against the back of Remus’ hand when he checked it. “Tired?”

“Mhmm.”

Wrapping him in a dozen blankets and cuddling him as tight as possible wouldn’t help. Logically, Remus knew that. The temptation was still there. “Too hot?”

“Warm.”

“Want me to take a blanket?”

Jules shook his head. His eyes were closed fully now. “Weight’s nice.”

Every inhale hitched when Remus rested a hand between his shoulder blades, feeling for his pulse. That, at least, was calm. Jules had sweated through the old grey fabric there. He combed a few strands of hair off his burning brow and swallowed around his dry throat. “Want me to leave you alone for a bit?”

“Gonna nap.” Jules’ twitched, as if he was trying to readjust but lacked the energy. “Here when I wake up?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be here.”

The evening passed without issue. Night rolled in with a gust of wind that hissed across the windowpanes while Remus dried the last of the dishes. Jules had managed to get up and come to the table for dinner, but he had looked even worse in the brighter light and barely ate half a bowl of soup. He could see their mother struggling not to fuss over him, not that Jules had any oomph to give real protest.

What kind of family emergency is this, Lupin?

A family emergency. I can come back the 22nd.

You’re missing two games. Do you understand that? Weasley won’t play you for the third, either.

I understand.

Is this a funeral?

No.

A wedding?

No.

It’s a request for nonvital time off, then. This could very well result in a fine.

I’m aware of that. Time off for a family emergency is covered in my contract. I’m permitted to miss four games.

Are you really going to put in a request for this? For a nonvital midweek trip instead of two NHL games?

That’s precisely what I’m requesting, yes. This is an emergency and therefore it is vital.

Remus had not missed the bureaucracy of the NHL during his time on the ice. There was still administrative irritation, of course, but it had not been nearly long enough since he played email tag with someone determined to make his life harder. ‘Nonvital emergency’. It made him want to laugh and lose it at the same time. What a fucking joke.

A sudden rustle and thud—likely Jules’ elbow hitting the wall between their rooms, ouch—startled him from half-sleep. Clumsy footsteps pattered on the floor; a door creaked and closed, quickly followed by a dry heave. Remus winced in sympathy.

This bedroom felt too small. His feet touched the end of the bed if he stretched out. There were only a few inches’ allowance for his shoulders on either side before he hit a wall or the edge of the mattress. Even his stuff felt smaller, as if the books shrank in his hands and the trophies had been made for someone Jules’ size.

He supposed they had been. Juniors was a world away, these days. He had turned the idea of keeping a potential you-know-what ring here instead of in Gryffindor, but never really committed one way or another. That, too, felt far off. He was stuck in the middle of a spectrum, where nothing felt quite right.

The toilet flushed, but he didn’t hear Jules leave. The low timbre of their father’s voice buzzed in the hall for a second; he didn’t catch Jules’ response. Remus swung his legs over the side of the bed with a huff and stood despite the creaking protests of his knees.

The blue light looked eerie in the cover of real night. He propped Jules’ door open again as he passed. A little ventilation couldn’t hurt. He paused in the doorway of the bathroom and crouched down, lowering himself to the cool linoleum with a soft groan. “Sup?”

“M not gonna throw up again.”

“Okay.” Remus flexed his ankles against the cabinets and tilted his head back. The soft towels buffered him from the wallpaper. Next to him, Jules’ forehead was stubbornly pressed into the crease of his elbow where he rested it on the toilet seat. “Still sick?”

A wordless mumble answered him.

“I’m gonna make chicken and dumplings tomorrow.”

Jules weakly raised his head. “Really?”

“Yup. Protein, veggies, sodium, starch. All that good stuff.”

Quiet fell over them for a long moment. “What are you talking about?”

“What, you don’t want a science lesson?”

“Nerd—”

He knew it was going to happen before Jules’ first jerk forward and caught his side when he wobbled, giving gentle pressure until he was upright. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay, I got you.”

“Ugh.”

“I know. You’re doing great, J.” It was over as fast as it started. Jules trembled lightly under his touch, sweaty again, all too warm again. His knuckles stood out in harsh midnight shadows where he gripped the porcelain, thin arms shivering.

Jules sniffled. “I wanna go to bed.”

“I bet.”

“I’m tired.”

“Can you stand up?” It took Jules a moment to even start moving; when he did, it was sluggish and unsteady. Remus hovered his hands close and resisted the urge to scoop him right up. Jules wouldn’t like that. He hated being babied. It was still fucking hard to watch him pull himself to his feet.

A rinse-and-spit and a cool washcloth on the back of his neck made Jules sigh. He leaned right into Remus’ hip, head at the base of his ribs, and staggered along on foal legs while Remus guided him back to bed with a lump in the base of his throat. There was no fuss about being tucked in—he simply sighed again, so content it hurt. Remus smoothed out the hem of the comforter by his neck just one more time, once more, just so he could be sure.

Their parents were out by the time Remus woke. He distantly recalled the sound of them leaving, but the plane left him groggy enough not to notice or care. Jules was still snoring loud enough for him to hear it through their shared wall.

Breakfast, then. Something light. Oatmeal or eggs, if he could keep it down. Broth, if not. Remus would have to check the fridge for Gatorade and lemons.

It was strange to be functionally alone in the house. The carpet felt too soft, the curtains too still. A bright pink sticky note was stuck to the table with his name written in big letters at the top. He’d check it later.

Message To: SB <3

Morning :)

Fever’s still going, nasty cough, the works. I’ll keep an eye on him today.

Miss you

He clicked his phone off and set it aside—hopefully, Sirius wouldn’t be awake for some time yet. They didn’t have practice for two more hours in his time zone. He liked to sleep in on days like that. Remus, on the other hand, had work to do.

Quick eggs and bacon for himself took fifteen minutes. He parked himself at his usual seat without really thinking about it, pulling a dish towel and a fork from their drawers with an absent mind. He hadn’t dared to check his email yet and seriously contemplated leaving it alone until he was back in Gryffindor. Time off was time off. Professional hockey wasn’t big on ‘work from home’.

Jules shuffled in half past ten and made a beeline for the couch.

“Good morning.”

A grunt answered.

“Sleep well?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Want oatmeal?”

Jules’ mumble seemed vaguely affirmative. Remus set the kettle on and dug a pot out of the cupboard, then turned to rummage in the pantry. This was setting up to be a silent morning.

Measuring for a sick preteen was almost as strange as picturing his childhood bedroom as a normal size. Remus had only cooked for himself for years, then himself and Sirius, with the occasional potluck dish for a team dinner or holiday party. A single cup of anything was a novelty. “Want sugar?” he checked once the oats and milk were simmering. Jules snuffled in response, dragging one of the knit blankets further over his head. “Lemme check your temperature and then you can tell me, yeah?”

“Mmkay.”

A quick search of the medicine cabinet revealed no thermometer, and the same went for the hall closet. Remus spent a good five minutes riffling through the bathroom drawers and Jules’ desk before he found it propped against the base of his dolphin lamp. It had been left uncapped; gross. He made sure to give it a thorough wash before moving back into the living room.

“Blanket down.”

“No.”

“I can’t see your mouth. C’mon, just for a second.”

“Cold. Bright.”

“Twenty seconds, J. I promise. You can count.”

The blanket lump shifted. “Twenty?”

“Fifteen. Then I’ll bring your oatmeal over and leave you alone.”

A handful of shallow breaths filled the silence before Jules’ forehead poked out, then his glazed eyes, and finally the lower half of his face. Remus grimaced. His nose was red and chapped from tissues, and a faint crack split the side of his lower lip. “Have you been drinking your water?”

“Fifteen seconds,” Jules slurred.

Remus knew he wasn’t getting a better number than yesterday. Not with this vague lucidity, and not when Jules was hardly able to hold a fragment of a conversation. All the same, it made his gut sink when the thermometer beeped.

“Whuzzat?”

“102.5.”

“ ‘S worse?”

“Yep.”

A resigned nod told him Jules expected as much. The blanket swallowed him up again. Remus pulled it down over his feet before heading back to the kitchen.

Three hours passed with all the rush of a snail on codeine. Jules rallied to choke down his oatmeal before going down for a noon nap, let Remus rouse him to gulp down about a gallon of water, and overall remained sedentary while Remus channel-surfed for anything even slightly interesting on daytime TV. They settled on NCIS from one to 2:30, NCIS: Miami from 2:30 to four (with a brief break for sandwiches, or toast, in Jules’ case), and rounded it out with NCIS: LA while Remus tossed some rotisserie chicken and chopped vegetables in a simmering pot of broth.

“Re?”

“Yeah, bud?” Bisquick puffed over the side of the mixing bowl in a soft cloud.

“My stomach hurts.” Jules’ voice wavered. “And my mouth feels weird.”

Fuck. “Bathroom, hustle.”

The glimpse he caught of Jules before he vanished down the hall confirmed it: pallid skin, dilated pupils, sweat gleaming on the back of his neck. Remus rinsed his hands in the sink and dug the box of Pepto Bismol tablets out of his bag, and sent a silent thanks to whatever small mercy it was that left him without a reactive gag reflex.

He spent twenty minutes sitting sideways with water seeping into his pants from the bathmat. “I’m gonna throw up until I die,” Jules whined, pressing his forehead to Remus’ palm.

“You’re not gonna die. Definitely not while I’m here.” He slid his hand around to press against the nape of Jules’ neck and gave a light squeeze. “You’re almost done. Work it out, buddy.”

“Gonna miss the game?”

Despite the sweat, despite the illness, despite it all—Remus smiled. Of course Jules would be thinking about that when he looked like death warmed over. He wouldn’t be a Lupin with anything else on his mind. “We’ve still got half an hour.”

Jules gave a faint push back into his hand. His lower lip wobbled. “I don’t want to miss it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make it.”

“I don’t—” His voice cracked, but it wasn’t even slightly funny. He took a shuddering inhale and sniffled again, harsher. “I don’t want to be sick anymore, I don’t, I’m so done, I don’t like it.”

“Jules…” The redness had flooded his cheeks and ears, inching down his neck with each horribly choked breath. Jules’ eyes were bright, but not like usual. He blinked and a drip tracked down his nose. His exhale wasn’t much of an exhale at all—it wracked him, made him sway. “Oh,” Remus murmured. “Oh, hey, c’mere.”

The edge of thirteen had left Jules gangly, all bones and joints. He still fit just right in the hollow of Remus’ chest and arms. A shivering, overheated mess, but a mess that fit all the same. Fuck it, Remus thought as he tightened his arms around Jules and let him fall apart in the safe dark. He didn’t care if he got sick. This was the most vital emergency he could possibly think of. If the administration had a problem with that, he’d happily turn his gear in before leaving Jules to burn through this alone.

“I’m tired,” Jules whispered through shuddering breaths. “My head hurts ‘n my stomach hurts ‘n everything else, too.”

“I know, bud, you’re being so brave.”

A damp, wounded noise made Remus wince.

“But hey, you haven’t thrown up in, like, five minutes.”

Jules felt around blindly for a tissue and blew his nose several times before answering. “I guess.”

“You ready to get up? Have some dinner and watch the game?”

“Dizzy.”

“Okay.” He pressed the wrinkles out of Jules’ shirt with his palm and felt him go limp. “I brought some super special secret hockey medicine, if that’ll help.”

“…is it Gatorade?”

“No, but we have that, too.” He rattled the box next to Jules’ ear. “Pepto Bismol. My secret weapon.”

“Nuh-uh. That’s the pink sh—stuff.”

“Nice save,” Remus said dryly. “This is the same. It’s easier to keep down, though. And it works faster.”

“Makes my stomach stop hurting?”

“It might help.”

He waited a beat, then two. A clammy palm extended from the tangle of limbs near his middle. He dropped two of the chalky tabs into it and loosened his hold by a degree, enough for Jules to pop them both in his mouth and frown immediately. “Yuck. It’s crunchy.”

“Keep chewing.”

“Why is it coming apart like that?”

“Keep chewing,” Remus repeated through a light laugh. “Doesn’t work if you talk the whole way through.”

Jules tucked his legs closer to himself, pushing him further into Remus’ lap. As horrible as the past twenty minutes had been, he seemed better for it. The fevered sheen to his face wasn’t quite as nuclear. His breathing sounded more even and controlled.

“You finished?”

“Mhmm.”

Jules might have looked better, but Remus didn’t have the energy to fight the coddling urge this time. He slid his free arm across the back of Jules’ knees and hefted him up like a cat gone boneless, and received no protest whatsoever. Instead, Jules curled into him with a long, relieved sigh. Remus’ heart may have shattered a little.

The pregame show was just wrapping up when he set Jules gingerly on the couch and pulled the blanket around him. Half of his waterbottle was gone in a few desperate swallows; Jules wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and all but collapsed onto the throw pillows, a heap of exhaustion. The belltower by the middle school tolled six. His sandy hair was damp at the root when Remus passed a hand through it. They’d fix that eventually. Fluids first (hockey first), then everything else.

New Message From: SB <3

Heading to the rink. Miss you love you : )

Remus smiled down at his phone as he set Jules’ bowl on the coffee table and folded himself into the armchair.

“Tell Sirius I say hi.”

“He’s literally right there,” Remus laughed, gesturing at the TV. “He’s not gonna see it for ages.”

“Still.” Jules poked around with his spoon for a few seconds before attempting a small sip of broth. An approving nod followed. “It’s good.”

“Glad it meets your standards. Eat. Protein, veggies, sodium, starch.”

Jules’ eye roll was weak, but very much present. “I know, I know.”

“You gotta know that stuff.”

“I’m not gonna be a doctor.”

“Yeah, but you’re still gonna be a person.” Remus cut a dumpling in half with the side of his spoon. “If you don’t know how to feed yourself by the time you move out, I’m totally making fun of you.”

“Whatever.”

They both booed when the Habs skated out, and cheered when the Lions appeared soon after. Jules couldn’t muster much more than a rough whisper, but the soup and a bottle of Gatorade seemed to help. Remus made him get up and stretch during the first period intermission (to immense complaints, but eventual acquiescence) before letting him rest while he washed up in the kitchen.

New Message From: SB <3

First period up.

How’s J?

New Message To: SB <3

Haha yeah we’re watching

Temp’s high, still pretty sick. Getting better tho

Made soup

The response was almost immediate. Remus’ heart skipped at the thought of Sirius glued to his phone even after a rough period, just to chat with him.

New Message From: SB <3

Oooo jealous

New Message To: SB <3

Yeah you should be

It’s a real rager up here

Miss you. Go get ‘em.

A simple heart and hockey stick emoji followed. The grey bubble cycled for a moment before disappearing. That would be the midgame meeting. Remus was glad to be home—wouldn’t trade this—but he had to admit the hockey ache was still there. Even easy choices had consequences.

By the time he looked back, Jules was asleep. Remus checked his forehead as delicately as he could and was pleased to find it slightly cooler than that morning, if altogether too warm. The pattern of creaky floorboards laid a map in his bones as he moved through the house: first to open Jules’ window, then to let his blankets air out, and while he was at it, he may as well wash the sheets. The nightstand and bookshelf needed to be wiped down. It wasn’t hard to get that done while the washer rumbled on the other side of the hall. In the meantime, the soup had cooled enough to pack up in Tupperware to stack in the fridge for later. Who knew if Jules would suddenly get his appetite back? The kid was a bear when he was hungry.

He lingered for the end of the second period and swapped the sheets into the dryer at the start of the third with a cookie and a cup of Emergen-C for himself. He damn well better not catch whatever germs Jules had percolated from the hellscape of middle school. Sirius had called him ‘stubbornly healthy’ on too many occasions for it to be disproven. Besides, the administration might actually fire him if he came back from an emergency and was immediately out for three more games.

“Re?”

The sound of a quiet voice took Remus’ off-guard in the last few minutes of the third period. “What’s up?”

Jules shifted around until he could prop his chin on the throw pillow and blink blearily at Remus. “Did we win?”

“Game’s still going. 4-3, Lions.”

“How much time?”

“Just under five.”

Jules attempted a whistle, though it came out as more of a shaky breath. “Almost there.”

“Dad texted. They’ll be home in a few, traffic was rough.”

“Oh, okay.” A small smile lit his face. He burrowed back under the blanket. “That’s good.”

“They’ve been asking about you all day.”

“Did’ja tell them I was fine?”

“Something like that.” Sort of. Maybe. He had been gentle about it, at least. Gory details would only make them panic.

He made sure to poke Jules awake for the last minute of the game before shepherding him down the hall to brush his teeth and shower. It was only 8:30, but Remus felt weary all the way to his core. He made Jules’ bed while the water ran and tried to tuck the sheets in along the wall a little deeper this time, just in case one tried to end up on the floor again. If he had the time, he may as well do it right, pinched fingers notwithstanding.

It was all worth it when Jules trudged back into his bedroom and threw himself into bed, only to gasp aloud. “Aw, man, this is great.”

“You’re welcome,” Remus laughed.

“Oh, wow.” The bumps of Jules’ feet kicked happily under layers of fabric and down. “It’s all warm, and cozy…”

“Get some sleep,” he reminded him, and turned out the big light. “If you need anything, I’m right next door.”

He made it halfway across Jules’ carpet.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“You—” The faint outline of Jules’ head was backlit by his lamp. Remus could see the shadows of his hands fidgeting with the top blanket. “Will you…can you tell me about the soup stuff? The proteins and all that.”

Remus hesitated. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Jules said with a surprisingly enthusiastic nod. “It sounds cool.”

“I mean—yeah, sure. Uh…” Jules’ desk chair looked wildly uncomfortable for this time of night, so edge of the bed it was, he supposed. The sheets provided a nice cushion when he sat. “Okay, have you ever heard of macromolecules?”

“That’s a made-up word.”

“It’s what you’re made up of, actually. How about DNA? You know that one?”

Lyall opened the front door with a muttered curse for the bitter wind and the worse traffic. It was brutally unfair that the one day he tried to come home early, everything went to hell and kept him an age and a half longer. What kind of karma came after a father trying to get home to his sick kid?

“It’s awfully quiet,” Hope remarked behind him. The door opened at last; warm air rushed over them. “Boys? Are you up?”

The NHL postgame show was playing at a low volume, next to a plate with crumbs on it and a mug so old the pattern had washed off it. One of Hope’s blankets from her knitting phase was haphazardly piled on the couch. The evidence of both of them there, present and accounted for and safe, plucked at his heartstrings. “Why do I feel like this is exactly where they sat for the entire day?”

She shook her head. “Good for them. I’m jealous. Remus? Julian? Are you home?”

Remus’ bedroom door was closed. The bathroom fan was still on, and steam clung to the corners of the mirror next to a still-damp towel. It couldn’t have been long since they went to bed, then. Lyall pushed Julian’s bedroom door open wider and covered his mouth with his palm.

They had nearly rendered each other invisible, save for Remus’ legs stretched over the side of the bed and Julian’s arm resting atop his pile of blankets. Julian’s congested snoring drowned out the heavy, even rhythm of Remus’ breathing. As far as he could tell, only one of them had actually been prepared for bed.

“Oh my goodness,” Hope whispered at his shoulder. Her grin was radiant, even half-covered by her palm. “I don’t want to move them.”

“Re’s going to wake up with one hell of a side cramp if we let him sleep like that.”

“You do it, then.”

“…no.”

Hope scoffed fondly and tossed her hands in the air, then kissed him on the jaw as she stepped deeper into the bedroom. The whole place felt lighter, Lyall noticed. Julian had been holed up in here for two days, refusing to come out for anything but necessities. Whatever Remus had done, it worked wonders.

“Remus,” Hope singsonged in her quietest voice. She shook his shoulder, soft enough that for a moment, Lyall forgot Remus wasn’t a toddler anymore. “Baby, you need to wake up. It’s bedtime.”

“ ‘M asleep,” Remus mumbled without opening his eyes. “In my bed.”

“This isn’t your bed, lovey,” she laughed. “Come on, up you go.”

“Goin’ to sleep, promise.” His eyelashes fluttered, nose crinkling. “Talking ‘bout—‘bout proteins. Jules wanted to know.”

At the head of the bed, Julian didn’t show so much as a hint of waking. Lyall stepped forward and braced his hands under Remus’ arms, then hoisted him into a sitting position as gently as he could manage with the unexpected weight of an athlete to counterbalance him.

Remus jolted, startling into consciousness. “Woah—”

“Shh, shh.” Lyall helped him stand on clumsy legs and guided him to the door with a last playful glance at Hope. “I’ve got you, buddy.”

“Fell asleep.” Remus blinked hard. “Jules’ bed. Wanted me to stay. Time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

“Oh, god, ‘s early.” A yawn overtook him, spilling more of his weight into Lyall. He didn’t seem to know where his own feet were, but he went easily into the room next door.

“Alright,” Lyall huffed as he helped Remus stumble toward the bed and splay over the mattress. That old thing was definitely too small for him these days. Funny, how times changed so rapidly. That same bed used to make Remus look like nothing more than a pile of sheets. “Brush your teeth?”

A drawn-out snore answered him.

Lyall smiled to himself in the darkness and ruffled the back of Remus’ hair. “Night, Re.”

A single socked foot twitched in response. That was good enough for him.

(Jules’ fever broke the next morning. By the end of the day, he was well enough to go with them to the airport and give Remus the fiercest goodbye hug either of them had experienced, with a pinky-promise that the Lions would win the next game he played.)

#remus lupin #julian lupin #sirius black #lyall lupin #hope lupin #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fic o’ween 2023 #illness #sickfic #lupin bros #hurt/ comfort

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