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Chapter Text

Dad

“Are you my Dad?” Harry asked one day. It was an ordinary day in the early winter of 1984. Remus had just picked him up from day-care, and they were walking home from where they bus had let them off.

Remus stopped in his tracks. For a moment, he lost his ability to form words at all.

Harry stopped along with him, still clutching his hand. “All the others have their mummies and daddies pick them up, but you’re my Uncle Remus,” Harry continued when he didn’t reply. “Why?”

In the back of him mind, Remus had known this conversation would come up at some point, but he had never found the right time or the right words to bring it up himself. If he was being honest, he had tried not to think about it too much at all.

What was he to Harry? Family friend, uncle, guardian, dad? He didn’t even know himself.

There was a time before Harry had been born, when James had asked him if he wanted to be Harry’s uncle. After all, James didn’t have any siblings and Lily’s sister was out of the picture. Remus remembered thinking, well of course, wasn’t that a given?

Maybe it was wrong of him to assume such a thing, but as an only child himself, his friends back then had been the closest thing he would come brothers. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he might not be an uncle. It wasn’t until James asked that he realised, oh. That’s not how it works.

James had laughed when he told him. He had clasped his shoulder and said, then it’s settled, Uncle Moony!

He had been so excited. The thought of becoming an uncle had made him so ridiculously happy. Becoming an uncle had made him ridiculously happy. And when Harry had called him “Uncle Moony” for the first time, it had felt like his heart might combust from joy.

But then, James and Lily had died, and everything fell apart. Harry didn’t have any parents anymore. No mum and no dad. He didn’t even have any family. Except, he had Remus, didn’t he? Wasn’t he Harry’s family? Had he not become Harry’s parent to some extent?

…Would it be wrong of him to call himself that? The last thing he wanted was to dishonour his friends’ memory. He hated the thought of replacing Lily and James, taking their place in Harry’s life. Because James was Harry’s father, not him.

“Uncle Remus?”

Remus snapped out of his thoughts. He took a deep breath, and crouched down on his heels.

“You used to call me Uncle Moony when you were a baby,” he started. “When your parents were still here. Remember I’ve talked about your parents, Lily and James?”

Harry nodded. “Were they my Mum and Dad?”

“Yes, they were. But when they went to heaven, you came to live with me, because we’re family too.”

Harry nodded again. He seemed thoughtful for a moment, before looking back up at Remus. “Are you my Dad now?”

“That’s—” he stared, but cut himself off. He had been about to tell him that that wasn’t how it worked, but he stopped himself when he saw Harry’s hopeful expression. In that moment, whatever thoughts and fears that had held him back crumbled.

“If you want me to be,” he said instead with a smile, and Harry’s face lit up.

“Can I call you Dad?”

Remus felt like his heart could burst any minute from the happiness and love he felt in that moment. “Of course,” he said as he picked up the three-year-old, just so he could hug him and hold him close.

Hurt

“Dad, look!” Harry squealed at something Remus couldn’t yet see. “It’s a butterfly!” he said, but only a moment later, he groaned, “Oh, no!”

“Did it fly away?” Remus asked, and crouched down to Harry’s level when he caught up to him.

“Yeah…” he said, with big sad eyes. Remus has to bite his inner cheek not to smile. He was just too cute.

“I’m sorry, Spud. Maybe it went to see its family.”

“Do you think so?” Harry asked hopefully, and Remus smiled.

“I’m sure of it.”

He reached out to ruffle his hair, but Harry saw it coming and twisted away with a giggle. Then he was on his way again.

It was the summer of Harry’s fifth birthday, and Remus had taken Harry with him to the countryside for the weekend. He had wanted to give him a last carefree summer before he started primary school, and had emptied his bank account to give them a weekend away.

“Dad!” Harry shouted again. “I think I found it’s wife!”

“That’s great, Harry!”

They wandered a bit further up the river until they found a spot where they could sit down. Or rather, where Remus could sit down. Harry was happy to run around, exploring their surroundings. Remus was happy to sit down with a book, keeping an eye on Harry from the corner of his eye.

Every now and then, he would put down his book, just to watch Harry jump around. In moments like these, he couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky he was. His life had been in shambles, and he had been more sad, angry, and hopeless than he had ever been at any other point in his life. Back then, he couldn’t even dream of feeling this happy ever again. It had been three and a half year since he had rescued Harry from his Muggle relatives, and he still struggled to believe it sometimes.

“Careful, Harry! Don’t fall in the river!”

“I’m fine! See?” said Harry as he unsteadily made his way across the river.

“Remember that the rocks can be slippery,” said Remus. “I don’t want you to fall and get hurt.”

“I promise to be careful!”

Remus followed Harry closely with his eyes, one hand on his wand. But Harry made it across without getting wet, and Remus let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“That’s great, but please come back now! I don’t want you to go too far away.”

“Okay!”

This time, Harry did slip. With a scream that took half a year off Remus’ life, he landed on his hands and knees in the water. “Daddy!” he cried, and Remus rushed down to the riverside. Stepping out in the shallow waters, he lifted Harry up on his arm and carried him out of the water.

“It’s gonna be alright, Spud,” he said as he put Harry down. “Did you get hurt, or were you more scared?”

“More- sca-scared,” Harry sobbed.

“It’s okay to be scared, that was a scaring thing that happened. I’ll charm you dry, okay?”

“Okay.”

He muttered the spell and Harry’s clothes dried. Then he hugged him, and stroked Harry on his back until his sobs quieted down. His own heart steadily slowed down as well.

“There you go,” he whispered and sat back again. “You have to remember to think of the consequences before you do something, okay? If you do something dangerous, you might get hurt.”

“Are you mad at me,” Harry asked, looking down at his feet.

“No, I’m not mad, but I was scared too. I love you, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Oh.”

Remus put a hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears, and Harry looked up at him with a quivering lip. “Now, what do you say to a trip to the market to get some chocolate?” he asked with a grin. “It’s the weekend, after all.”

Harry gave him a small smile. “Yeah,” he said, and got up on shaky feet. Remus let him climb up on his back, and they followed the rived back to the village.

The rest of the weekend passed without much ado. They visited the farmers market, explored more of the countryside, and spent a quiet evening inside. On Sunday, they took the train back home.

When they finally arrived at their station, Harry was so tired, he could barely keep his eyes open. Remus shrunk their luggage to pocket size, and hoist the half-sleeping boy up on his shoulders, carrying him the rest of the way home.

The wards let them through, and Remus carried Harry to his room. Harry woke up briefly when he put him down in his bed. “G’night, Dad,” he muttered.

“Goodnight, Spud,” said Remus, and gave him a kiss on his forehead. He turned off the lights and closed the door carefully behind him.

Something right

The day came when Harry would finally start primary school. He was of course listed as Harry Howell, and Remus hoped it wouldn’t be confusing for him. He had tried to be honest with Harry from the beginning about who he was, his parents, and what happened to them (as far as would be age appropriate, of course). Harry knew that his real name was Harry James Potter, and that Remus’ real surname was Lupin. He knew that his parents had died to save him in the wizarding war and that Remus had taken him in. He knew that Remus was a werewolf. He knew that they were both wizards, but that he could never tell anyone. It was a lot of secrets for one tiny 5-year-old.

Harry was a smart kid, though, and Remus was confident he would be okay. He had always been bright, and loved to learn about the world around him, even if he struggled to concentrate for longer periods of time.

When Remus dropped him off for his first day at school that day, he couldn’t help but tear up a little bit. He was just so damn proud of him.

“They grow up so fast,” another parent he vaguely recognised said beside him.

Remus nodded, lost in thought. He couldn’t believe that it had been almost four years since he had taken Harry with him after James and Lily died. He’d been just a baby then, and Remus had been a lonely and depressed 21-year-old, not at all prepared for what would come next. But together, they had overcome seemingly impossible obstacles, and here they were.

It was a different primary school from the one he worked at. The Farmhouse was a tad closer to this one, so that was where he had been enrolled. Remus had considered sending an application to have him change schools to the one he worked at, but had decided against it at the last minute. No matter how much he wanted to have Harry as close to him as possible, he also didn’t want him so feel like he was watching his every move.

No one wanted to be the teacher’s kid, after all. Or, in this case, the janitor’s.

Besides, he wanted Harry to have some autonomy. Remus had always felt very trapped during his childhood. He now understood his parents' desperate desire to keep him close, to keep him safe. Yet, he had decided long ago that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes as his parents – that he wouldn’t make Harry go through what he had.

But he now also knew that there were no right answers to parenting. Perhaps it was harsh calling his parents' choices for “mistakes”, when they had only done their best in an impossible situation. And even if he made different parenting choices, who’s to say they will be the right ones?

Most of the time, he felt like he had no clue what he was doing, even now.

But when Remus went to pick up Harry that day, and Harry ran toward him with the biggest grin on his face, he thought, he must have done something right.

Chapter Text

What is and could have been

Remus had grown up in England, for the most part, despite his father being Irish and his mother Welsh. They had moved a lot. As such, Remus had ended up with a very general, unplaceable, and changeable English accent. His friends had teased him for how easily he picked up other people’s accents if he spent too much time with them. Sirius’ posh-but-trying-very-hard-not-to-be English one, Peter’s gruff Londoner accent, and James’ south-western. Even Lily’s northern accent seeped through every now and then.

He knew that his parents had met in Wales, where his mum came from, after his dad had been on a work-related visit. They ended up living together there for a while, before moving to England, once again for work-related reasons. A few years before Remus finished schooling, they moved Ireland, to where his father was from.

As he had only spent his summers there up until he got Harry, the Irish accent had never quite left a lasting impression. His father’s accent was too watered out, and he had never spent a lot of time around other Irish people. Until now, at least.

Being a tiny town on the west coast, everyone had a strong Irish accent—not completely incomprehensible like some of the southern ones, but enough that Remus had had to do a double take more than once. Learning a new accent could feel like learning a whole new language if the accent was thick enough, but he didn’t feel completely out of bounds. After all, the advantage of moving around a lot and being exposed to so many accents meant Remus had become quite adept at interpreting them.

Of course, while Remus couldn’t help but pick up some things, Harry’s accent got more Irish by the day. When he had been really young, Remus own unplaceable English accent had held a major influence, but as he started school, it became less and less apparent.

Remus thought it was very endearing.

It also made him very aware of another life, in another world. If not for the war, Harry would have grown up in Godric’s Hollow, and had the same soft accent as James. Maybe he would had had a hint of Lily’s northern accent, even.

He wondered what they would have thought if they could see them now. It was so different from what could have been, yet at the same time, not too different at all. Godric’s Hollow, too, was a small town with one or two schools, close to nature, where it was completely normal to knock your neighbour’s door if you were out of sugar.

After all, people were people, no matter what language they spoke or which accent they had. Harry was still Harry, and Remus was still Remus. It would do him no good to think too hard about what could have been. All they could do was live in the present as it was.

Secret

“Can I invite a friend home?” Harry asked one day as he was making dinner.

Remus paused in his tracks. To his left, he could see Harry, who had climbed up on a chair by the kitchen table, his expression full of anticipation. Slowly, Remus continued stirring their dinner, taking in the question.

His instant thought was, no. No, there was absolutely no way they could bring a stranger to their home. He would have to hide every trace of magic in their home, including books, photos, plants, and the cauldron, and he would have to lift the wards that kept strangers outside. The Farmhouse was their safe space. He didn’t want to bring strangers within the boundaries of their home.

But Harry was there, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he couldn’t bring himself to outright refuse. Remus hesitated.

“I need to think about it. That’s NOT—,” he said with a raised voice when Harry lit up, “a yes.”

Harry visibly inflated. Remus felt a pinch in his heart at that, because he knew exactly how he was feeling. And he wanted to be able to say yes, he wanted to scream YES, he wanted to give Harry everything he wanted. He wished it could have been that easy.

“You know why we can’t just let people in here,” Remus said, as an echo of his own dad from when he had been Harry's age. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Yes, Dad. No one can know about magic,” Harry recited impatiently.

“Exactly. So, I need to think about it.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

“An hour?”

Remus chuckled. “More than that.”

“Two hours?”

“More.”

Harry frowned. He thought long and hard. “A day?” he asked incredulously.

“At least.”

“But that’s so long!”

“It’s a big decision.”

Harry frowned even harder, but he didn’t say anything else. Remus smiled, and turned off the stove. “Let’s eat dinner in the meanwhile.”

Magical home

He did a lot of thinking. He sat in his chair in the sitting room, where he usually sat down to read after Harry went to bed. This night though, he just sat in his chair, staring out into the air.

His eyes trailed over the room. There was a doorless opening to the kitchen, and a doorway to the entryway. There were two chairs, one sofa, and a low table. There was a large fireplace, but not quite large enough to fit a person – which was to say, it was a perfectly normal Muggle fireplace not connected to the Floo network that definitely didn’t need to be big enough to room a person.

There was a bookshelf. It was perhaps Remus’ favourite thing in the entire room. It covered the entire wall, and was filled with all of Remus’ books. Which wasn’t many, and hardly enough to cover the entire wall, because even books cost money. But there were books, and each one of those books were a precious item, every one holding memories. There were books he read during good times in his life, and there were books that got him through the bad. There were books from his school days, Muggle novels, second hand books from James, questionable books from the Black’s personal library (Sirius had smiled devilishly when Remus had first asked how he got them, and he had decided not to ask a second time), books he had been gifted, books he had bought, and children’s books for Harry.

There was a cauldron. It was the same copper cauldron he had gotten in his fifth year after his first one had finally given out after years of rookie potioneering. It stood next to the fireplace, clean and unused for the time being. On the highest shelf on the bookshelf – out of reach from grabby little children's hands – was a collection of jars with essential brewing ingredients, as well as some more obscure ones.

There was a large collection of plants scattered across the room. Some of them were ordinary plants from cuttings he had gotten from neighbours and the overgrown garden outside the house. Others were magical plants from cuttings he had gotten from his dad or bought at the apothecary. The magical plants had a tendency to move on their own, change colours as it pleased them, and grow unusual-looking flowers.

There were various other items scattered across the room as well. Some of them were Muggle stuff, like a set of drawing utensils or the sweater hanging over the sofa. Others were very clearly magical, like the moving pictures and Harry’s wizard action figures that shot tiny glimpses of light from their little wands.

In short – it was in no way an acceptable place for a Muggle child. Or any Muggle, really.

But… But.

Remus understood Harry’s wish to bring home a friend very well. It was something he himself had been denied growing up, because his parents’ house had been equally magical, not to mention the fact that he was a werewolf. Wouldn’t do to have people so close to such a dangerous place. Never being allowed visitors had become just another thing that made him different and unusual and weird.

Remus wanted normalcy for Harry. Well, as normal as a childhood could get when you were the only magical child in a very Muggle town.

Experimentally, he cast a glamour on the bookshelf. Titles like “Advanced Potioneering” changed names to “Desserts for Every Occasion”. He stunned the moving plants, and made the wizarding action figures march back into Harry’s toy box, before magically sealing it. It wasn’t a perfect solution by far, and he would still have to manually remove pictures, the cauldron, and whatever other items he couldn’t charm, but it wasn’t impossible.

Maybe. Maybe Harry could have this.

He sat back in his chair, considering his handiwork. Yes, maybe Harry could have this.

Chapter Text

Lyall

There was little Harry enjoyed more than visiting his grandpa. Remus dropped him off there at least once a month for the full moon, of course, but he made an effort to take him there outside of that as well. After all, it was nice to go together too.

Lyall, of course, adored Harry, and was more than happy to have them over.

“Grandpa!” Harry shouted when the front door opened.

“Harry!” said Lyall in return, and scooped him up into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!” Harry giggled and put his tiny arms around Lyall’s neck.

Lyall hoisted him up to hold him more comfortably, and carried him inside. Then he turned to Remus and smiled. “It’s good to see you, too, Remus,” he said. “Come on in.”

“Coming,” said Remus, who had been watching them fondly from the stairs up until that point. He took the final few steps up to the entrance, before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

In the living room, Lyall had already taken out the toy box. It contained an assortment of toys that Remus had brough or that Lyall had bought himself, as well as old toys from Remus’ own childhood. He had been shocked when he saw them, certain they must have been long gone, thrown away or lost in the move.

“Of course we kept them,” his dad had said when Remus asked. He had held up a stuffed giraffe that had been Remus’ favourite as a kid. “How could we throw away Affie?” he had said with a smile. His expression softened, and he added: “Besides, we always hoped we might get grandkids someday, your mother and I.”

Lyall had handed him the giraffe, and Remus had almost teared up. The giraffe’s brown fur was worn, but otherwise looked just as he remembered. He hadn’t been able to say the word “giraffe” as a child, and ended up calling it “Affie”, which had then stuck.

It was oddly heartwarming to now see it in Harry’s arms; a rare relic from his own childhood he could pass down. He hadn’t had much else to give to him, especially not in the beginning, so seeing Harry find joy in it meant a lot to him.

“I’ll make some tea, Dad,” Remus said.

Lyall only briefly glanced up from where he was sitting on the floor next to Harry, playing with wizarding figurines. “Go ahead,” he said, quickly returning his attention to their game. Remus left them to it.

He boiled water and returned to the living room with two cups and a full can of tea. He just poured one cup for himself to begin with, since Lyall and Harry seemed engrossed with their game, and he didn’t want to disturb.

Lyall eventually had to break it off. “Grandpa has to sit down for a bit,” he said, getting up on his feet with a groan. His knees made a few cracking noises as he did.

“But why!” Harry complained.

“When you’re my age, you can’t sit on the floor for too long.”

Harry looked over at Remus, as if there was anything he could do about it. Remus smiled. “Play on your own for a while so your Grandpa can get a cup of tea.”

“Can I have tea too?”

“Why not,” Remus said. He got another cup from the cabinet, and switched cups with Harry, since his own tea had cooled down a bit since he poured it.

Harry took a careful sip, but his face immediately scrunched up at the taste. “I don’t like tea.”

“Maybe when you’re a bit older,” Remus chuckled.

Harry looked doubtful, and instead turned back to his toys with renewed interest.

Remus poured tea for Lyall as well as new, steaming hot cup for himself.

“How are you boys doing lately? Harry doing well at school?” Lyall asked.

“We’re doing fine,” Remus smiled. “I think Harry is liking school. He has made lots of new friends. We cleaned up the living room to make it more muggle friendly so he can have visitors.”

Lyall nodded thoughtfully. “That’s good to hear.”

They sat in silence for a while. Remus wondered what his dad was thinking about, but he didn’t ask. In the end, he didn’t need to.

“Do you blame us for moving around so much? For not letting you have friend over?” Lyall suddenly asked.

Surprised that he would bring it up unprompted, Remus simply replied, “no.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “Or, I guess I understand why you did what you did. It was the right decision for you at the time. I’m just choosing differently.”

“I see.”

Lyall took a sip of his tea. The silence hang heavy in the air between them, only interrupted by Harry’s carefree play.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That we made an already difficult situation even harder for you.”

Whatever Remus expected his dad to say, that surely wasn’t it. He opened his mouth to reply, but closed it when he didn’t find the words.

To some extent, Remus knew his dad was sorry for how things turned out for him. Remus was sorry things turned out like this too. He didn’t think his dad had thought about his childhood beyond that.

“You did your best,” Remus said eventually. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to forgive, or if there was anything to forgive at all, but he didn’t blame his parents. Not anymore.

For a moment, he wondered if he would ever have this conversation with his dad had it not been for Harry. Before, there had been a distance between them Remus hadn’t known how to close. Losing his mum had shattered both of them. Redefining their relationship after Hope died had been hard. Remus didn’t visit as often as he probably should have, and when he did visit, he didn’t stay for as long as he’d liked. This old house had too many memories, and instead of working through it with his dad, Remus had ran away from it.

Everything changed when Harry came along. Remus had been lost and afraid, and the only thing he had thought to do was go to his dad. And his dad had been everything he needed back then, supporting him at every turn in this new life he had no idea how to tackle. The big empty house was filled with child’s laugher and new, happy memories. And slowly, without Remus even properly realising, they bridged the gap between them. There was little Remus was more grateful about than that.

He wanted to somehow express this to Lyall, but he couldn’t find the words. They felt stuck in his throat.

Lyall caught him starting, and smiled. Maybe he saw something in Remus’ eyes, because he reached out his hand and patted him on the shoulder, his expression soft.

Remus gave up on his words then. He thought Lyall already knew.

Chapter Text

Scars

“Why do you hide your scars?”

Remus paused. They were getting ready to head out, and he was helping Harry with his shoe laces, even though he knew he could do it himself by now. Slowly, he finished off with his laces, mulling over the question.

“Well,” he said when he got up. “People can feel scared when they see them.”

“Why?”

“Because they could think something bad happened,” he replied. He took Harry's hand, and they went outside.

“Did something bad happen?” Harry asked as they walked to the bus stop.

“Hm, well,” Remus said, thinking. He had considered how to explain his scars before, but suddenly faced with the question, the words didn’t come as easily as he’d hoped. How do you tell your child you gave yourself those nasty scars?

“Dad?” Harry prompted when Remus didn’t say anything for a while.

“I guess you could say something bad happened,” Remus said, choosing his word carefully. “It was an accident when I was transformed.”

Harry nodded, as if understanding. Remus didn’t think he fully understood, but he didn’t want to explain it in any more detail either.

They get to the bus stop. Harry grabbed his hand. “I think you scars are cool.”

Remus felt an involuntary smile tug at his lip. “Thank you.”

Dog

“Can we get a dog?” Harry asked when he picked him up from school one day.

Startled, Remus echoed: “A dog?”

“Yeah! Please, can we?” Harry said with pleading eyes.

Remus’ initial reaction was ‘absolutely not’. He tried to phrase it more kindly. “I’m sorry, Harry, but we can’t get a dog.”

The disappointment on his face was obvious. “Why?”

Where to start? For one, a dog was a lot of work, and Remus didn’t have that kind of time or energy. Secondly, it was expensive to have a dog. You’d have to get food and other necessities, not to mention vet expenses. And who was gonna take care of it during the full moon? No, there was no way they would be getting a dog.

“A dog is a big responsibility,” he said.

“I can take care of it!”

Remus was certain Harry believed so, but he also knew that the dog would be mainly Remus’ responsibility. “ We’re not getting a dog,” he said with some finality.

“But Dad!” Harry said, tugging at his sleeve with big sad eyes.

“I know you’re disappointed, but this is something we have to agree on, and right now, I don’t want to get a dog,” Remus said.

“Why?”

“Because a dog is a lot of work and costs a lot of money.”

“We never have money for anything!” Harry shouted and stomped away.

Well, that hit a bit too close to home. Even now, after holding a stable job for almost six years, money was tight. Everything cost money, and after paying for bills and groceries, there wasn’t much left of his paycheck. He tried to shelter Harry from it the best as he could, making sure he always had everything he needed, but he didn’t have the funds to give him everything he wanted.

Harry only went as far as to the bus stop. Remus lagged behind to give him some space. When he finally caught up to him, Harry hat already cooled down.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he mumbled, facing the ground.

“It’s okay. I know you were disappointed,” Remus said. He put an arm around his shoulder. “Let’s get home and make some dinner. You can pick dinner today.”

Harry perked up. “Even pizza?”

Remus chuckles. “Sure, even pizza.”

Nightmare

Remus felt a bit disorientated as he woke up. It was dark in the room.

“Dad?” a thin voice called out.

Remus turned his head towards the sound. In the doorway, he saw the small silhouette of Harry. He was holding the door knob in one hand and Teddy in the other.

“Hey Spud,” Remus croaked, his voice raspy from sleep. “You okay there?”

Harry shook his head. It was hard to see his expression, because the only source of light was the ceiling lights in the hallway behind him, casting a shadow over his face.

Remus sat up in the bed and turned on his bedside lamp. “Come here, tell me what happened.”

He heard the sound of bare feet treading over the cold bedroom floor as Harry made his way over to him. He crawled up in his bed, and immediately sat down next to him so Remus could wrap his arm around him. Up close in the light, Remus could see streaks of tears.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked in the gentlest voice he could manage. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Harry’s lips started to quiver and new tears pooled in his eyes.

“Aw, baby,” Remus said, and dragged him into a hug. Harry started sobbing. “You’re okay, it was just a dream. Do you want to tell me about it?”

He felt Harry shake his head, still sobbing. “That’s okay,” Remus said. “You wanna talk about something else?” A nod. “Okay.”

Remus scoured his sleep-ridden brain for something fun to say. “Have I told you about the time me and my friends did a fart prank on our teacher?”

Harry stilled a bit in his embrace. “N-no,” he said, his voice still shaky.

“Well, we put a whoopee cushion on her chair, and when she sat down, it sounded like she farted!” It was one of their first years at Hogwarts. The whoopee cushion had been a normal Muggle thing that Remus had brought. Sirius and James, who had never seen such a thing before, was delighted. They had put it everywhere, starting with their friends and unfortunate Slytherins, until it all ended with Professor McGonagall, who had put a quick stop to their fun by making the cushion explode in front of the whole class. And then the four of them got detention, because of course she knew it was them. He left that part out, though.

“Really?” Harry said. He leaned back to look at him, and there was a small smile on his face.

“Really. It made a loud noise like—” he said, and blew into his elbow, making loud farting sounds.

That startled a laugh out of him. “What did the teacher say then?”

“She was really mad, and she made the whoopee cushion go poof!” Remus said while gesturing with his hand.

Harry laughed again. “Can I get one?” he asked.

“What about writing it on your wish list? Christmas is just around the corner.”

“Good idea!”

“But!” Remus sad when he noticed Harry looking around. “It will have to wait until tomorrow. It’s still nighttime, which means you need to sleep.”

Harry’s face fell. “I don’t want to go to sleep again.”

Remus leaned in and whispered: “How about this, you can sleep in here with me tonight, and I will make sure all the bad dreams stay away.”

Harry paused to think about it for a moment, and then he nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Remus echoed. He pulled out one of his pillows and gave it to Harry. “Come lay down here.”

Harry complied, and Remus pulled the duvet up over the both of them. He kissed his forehead, then turned to turn the night light off.

“Sleep well, sweet dreams,” he said.

“Sleep well, you too,” Harry said.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”