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Remus Lupin, seven-and-a-half (the half was crucial, thank you very much) was a boy in crisis. Not just any crisis. This was a full-on catastrophe. He was in love, and that made him feel like the world was ending this friday but he still had homework due to thursday.
Feeling was actually worse than the time he tripped over his own shoelaces in front of the entire class. Worse than when hope made him wear that scratchy, moth-eaten sweater to Aunt Helltrenty’s, where he spent the day trying to escape from her cats's judging stares.
He flung himself across the sofa like a swooning victorian heroine, one arm dangling off the edge as if he’d just been poisoned. A sigh—deep, guttural, and frankly excessive—rumbled out of him, shaking the curtains despite his little body.
Lyall was sat with his tea and a book, peering over the top of it to survey his son’s latest performance. He’d seen this act before: Remus, bless his heart, could be the most dramatic kid ever when it suited his fancy. And it did suited. A lot.
“Alright, what’s it this time?” Lyall asked, voice dry as a desert wind. But Remus knew, he KNEW that his father was dying to know what it was! He rolled onto his back with a groan that could’ve cracked the ceiling plaster.
“Dad, you don’t get it. This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to anyone, ever. It’s unbearable.”
Lyall didn’t blink. “Worse than that splinter last week? The one you swore was going to rot your finger off?”
“Dad!” Remus clutched his chest. “This is serious. It’s—it’s—” he choked, then whispered reverently: “Sirius.” His voice was so tiny it made Lyall smile secretly.
Lyall lowered the paper just enough to give him a look that said i’ve been expecting this. “Sirius Black, eh? I knew it.”
Remus gasped so hard he nearly inhaled his own tongue, sitting up in a coughing frenzy. Lyall could feel Hope's presence in the kitchen listening to Remus's coughs and trying to understand if her little son was sick or just dramatic. “How did you know?”
"Well, for starters, you sighed and said his name when you were brushing your teeth this morning. You talked about him for ten straight minutes on the drive home. You wrote ‘Remus Black’ in the condensation on the window like 5 minutes ago with hearts. So, just a guess"
Remus let out hoff and buried his face in his hands. "I am so obvious. I am ruined. He will never love me."
Lyall took a slow sip of tea, unfazed. “You’re seven—”
“and a half!” Remus snapped.
“-and a half,” Lyall conceded. “I doubt Sirius is even thinking about love."
"Of course he isn’t because he’s too busy being perfect!" Remus threw himself back onto the couch. Lyall was going to scold him for not being more gentle to furnitures later.
"He doesn’t even know my name and even if he did he’d think I was an annoying little boy with no social skills. He’s the coolest boy in school. He wears his tie loose. He can do a cartwheel and I saw him tell off a year five like it was nothing. He’s heaven, dad."
Lyall’s lips twitched. “So, what’s your grand plan, sweet boy?”
Remus blinked. “Plan?”
“To win him over,” Lyall said, leaning back. “You’ve got that scheming look under all the dramatics. Out with it.”
Remus scowled, crossing his arms and pouting. “I had one, but you’ve just pointed out how pathetic I am, so now I need to rethink my everything.”
Lyall chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Oh, Remus. I hate to break it to you but you are never going to be subtle about anything in your life. Let alone about something you love? Never."
“This is the worst day of my existence,” Remus moaned, yanking a cushion over his face.
“Worse than the splinter?”
“Yes, dad!” Came the muffled shout. “Now leave me to my misery!”
Lyall smirked. “Fine. Just don’t miss dinner while rolling around in your misery.”
“I’m not hungry,” Remus said. “My heart’s too shattered to eat.”
“Right. Well, if it stitches itself back together by seven, we’re having shepherd’s pie. With cheese.”
Remus peeked out behind the cushion. “…extra cheese?”
“Would I dare otherwise?”
“Fine,” Remus sighed, already his stomach growling. “But I’ll eat it in despair.”
“Of course you will.”
---
Dinner was a solemn affair. Remus stabbed at his shepherd’s pie with the precision of a betrayed war general, occasionally sighing so loudly the plants lyall tried so hard to keep alive almost turned their heads and looked at remus.
Hope raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with him?"
Lyall didn’teven think for a second. "Sirius Black."
"Ah," Hope said with a knowing nod. "The saga continues."
Remus groaned, dropping his forehead to the table with a thud. "It’s not a saga, Mum. It’s my life. My tragedy."
Hope set her cup down and glanced at Lyall. "Is this level of despair normal for his age? I thought the tortured poet phase started later."
Lyall smirked. "He is an overachiever.”
Remus lifted his head just enough to glare."You’re both being incredibly unhelpful."
Hope patted his head sympathetically. "Right, sorry, love. What did he do now?"
Remus lifted a hand to the ceiling in an elegant display of sorrow. "He exists, mom. He exists so beautifully it’s offensive."
Lyall finally lowered his paper, smirking. "That’s rough, son. Have you considered filing a formal complaint?"
"I don’t think the universe takes requests. Otherwise, I’d already be taller, richer, and married to Sirius Black."
Hope nodded seriously. "Forget about the universe and find a solid plan. Maybe start by introducing yourself first?"
Remus scoffed. "No, no. That’s what he’d expect. I need strategy. Something that says, ‘Remus Lupin is here, and he is not to be ignored.’" He was shaking his little finger with his last sentence.
Lyall hummed. "I don’t know why you think anyone can ignore you but continue..."
"Dad, I am not the main character of course I can be ignored."
"Shame, really," Lyall muttered, taking a sip of tea. "You’d be good antihero."
Hope rested her chin on her hand, considering. "What about impressing him with something? With something you are already good at?"
Remus considered this. "I know a lot of things about a lot of things."
"There you go!" Lyall perked up. "Say anything. Talk about nature—or the eclipse that will happen this week, everyone’s obsessed with it."
Hope nodded. "Irresistible. He’ll fall in love instantly."
Remus scowled. "You are no help."
Hope gave Lyall a playful nudge. "Remember when you tried to impress me by explaining the entire history of the printing press?"
Lyall grinned, his fist against his jaw . "It so worked."
"I married you despite that," Hope teased, then softened. "No, actually, your nerdy charm was a big part of it."
Remus groaned. "Enough about your romance! I want to live mine!"
"You’ve got all the time in the world for romance, sweet boy." Lyall said, smiling.
Hope leaned over, kissing Remus’s forehead. "I’ve seen Sirius—he seems lovely. Start as friends, be yourself, and you’ll be fine."
Remus sighed, shoving pie into his mouth. "I’ll think about it."
Lyall chuckled. "That’s the spirit."
---
The next morning, Remus was up at the crack of dawn. By which he meant 7:45, which was practically the middle of the night as far as he was concerned. He stumbled into the kitchen, his hair a tragic mess, and found Hope already making breakfast.
"You’re awake early," she said, flipping a pancake. "Plotting?"
Remus yawned dramatically. "Yes. The plan is taking shape."
Lyall shuffled in, still in his pajamas, blinking blearily. "Oh good. You seem much less anxious."
Remus sat down with a determined frown. "No, I’ve just refined my plan. First, I will dramatically drop my books in front of Sirius."
Lyall raised an eyebrow. "I put you to bed at 9 PM. Did you get up and read through your grandma’s romance books? Because that trick is that old."
Remus huffed. "I know it is old, but it’s not about the books. It’s about the moment. He’ll help me pick them up, our hands will brush, and he’ll look into my eyes and realize I’m the love of his life."
Hope slid a plate of pancakes in front of him. "You definitely stayed late and read mom’s books which is whole another thing we will talk tonight but… if he doesn’t?"
Remus chewed thoughtfully. "Then I’ll sneeze adorably. That always works in books."
Lyall bit back a smile. "Solid backup plan."
Hope sat down with her tea. "And what if he just steps over your fallen books and keeps walking?"
Remus stared at her, horrified. "Mom why would you even say that?"
Lyall patted his shoulder. "Your mom is being cruel, I agree. How could you Hope?." He and Remus were looking at her with big sad eyes. Lyall's were fake, Remus' not so much.
"If the books fail, the sneeze doesn’t land, and my humor tragically backfires," said Remus after a minute, holding his fork between his fingers, "I could act like I am sad and depressed in the library. Mom you always say that people love offering comfort to sad, mysterious figures."
Lyall snorted. "You've officially taken this to a whole new level with your willingness to fake sadness in a public space. Where there are teachers. Who will not leave your side and pester you all day."
Hope gave Remus a sympathetic pat on the arm. "Sweetheart, you don’t need a scheme. Just talk to him like a normal person."
Remus frowned. "Mum, I appreciate your optimism,” He made a final stop gesture with his hands. "But you’ve raised me. You know I’m incapable of that."
"Of course you are capable." she frowned.
Lyall, still half-asleep, hummed thoughtfully. "You could always just…tell him you think he’s wonderful."
Remus stared at him and his mother. The plan was not planning.
"…Maybe I’ll just compliment his hair."
Hope beamed. "There you go. Normal human interaction."
Remus squinted. "It feels unnatural."
She patted his shoulder. "You’ll get through it."
Remus blinked heavily, staring at the table. "…Alright. Compliment the hair. That’s step one. I can do that."
He took a deep breath, steeling himself.
---
The next day arrived far too quickly for Remus’s liking.
He woke up in a state of dread, groaning into his pillow as the realization settled in—today was the day. The day he would finally speak to Sirius Black like a normal, functioning human being. Or, at the very least, attempt to.
By the time he stumbled into the kitchen, Hope and Lyall were already seated at the table, sipping their morning tea. Hope took one look at him and smirked. "You look well-rested."
"I had nightmares about tripping over my own feet and knocking Sirius unconscious," Remus muttered, grabbing a piece of toast.
Lyall laughed. "That would certainly leave an impression."
"Not the kind I want," Remus huffed, slathering an unreasonable amount of jam onto his toast.
Hope handed him a cup of milk. "So, what’s today’s strategy? Or have you finally accepted that normal conversation is a viable option?"
Remus exhaled slowly. "I’m sticking with the hair compliment. Simple. Direct. Foolproof."
Lyall smirked. "And you should feel optimistic so it works."
"I don’t need optimism. I just need to get through one sentence without making a fool of myself," Remus grumbled.
Hope leaned her chin on her hand. "And what’s the worst that could happen?"
Remus gave her a flat look. "I could panic, say something completely ridiculous, and he’ll think I’m a lunatic."
Lyall chuckled. "Well, it’s always good to set realistic expectations but I don’t think anyone that spends more than five minutes with you can say anything bad about you."
Hope shot him a supporting look before turning back to Remus. " You are a smart and a kind person. Nobody will think you are a lunatic, let alone Sirius."
Remus sighed, draining the rest of his tea. "We’ll see."
---
By recess time, Remus's stomach was in knots. He stood at the edge of the playground, shifting his weight from foot to foot, watching the other children scatter to their favorite activities. The air was filled with shouts and laughter that seemed impossibly carefree to Remus's anxious ears.
And there he was.
Sirius Black, hanging upside down from the monkey bars, his dark hair falling in a perfect curtain toward the ground. Even upside down, he was unmistakable—the only second-grader who somehow made the standard uniform of the school look deliberately disheveled rather than just messy. His shirt was half-untucked, his shoelaces were different colors, and the light-up sneakers on his feet flashed with each swing.
Remus had spent the entire morning sneaking glances at the back of Sirius's head during class. Now that recess had arrived, all carefully prepared words had gone missing. Taking a deep breath that did absolutely nothing to calm his racing heart, Remus wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his shorts and began the longest walk of his very short existence.
With each step, the playground seemed to stretch farther and farther away. The distance between himself and the monkey bars were getting bigger and bigger. Twice, he nearly turned back. But the memory of his mother's encouraging smile and his father’s voice in his ears kept him moving forward.
As he approached and stand near the bars, Sirius executed a perfect flip off the bars, landing very close to Remus with a theatrical flourish that drew appreciative "oohs" from a couple of first-graders watching nearby. He caught sight of Remus and grinned, his eyes bright with a joy that seemed almost defiant.
"Oh, hi! You're Remus, right? I didn’t see that you were coming, I almost jumped on you!"
For one horrifying moment, Remus's mind went completely, catastrophically blank.
Sirius knew his name.
Sirius Black knew his name.
Panic.
Remus didn’t know he had such a pretty sounding name.
"Your hair," Remus blurted out, immediately wishing for a convenient sinkhole to appear beneath his feet.
Sirius blinked, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch a strand. "...What about it?"
Remus swallowed hard, finding his voice hiding somewhere down near his kneecaps.
"It's...nice. I like it."
Sirius's face broke into a grin so wide and genuine that it immediately made Remus feel about ten degrees warmer. "Thanks! My father keeps threatening to cut it all off, says it makes me look like a girl." He rolled his eyes with an exaggerated weariness that seemed too old for his seven years. "I told him I'll just grow it back anyway."
Remus nodded too quickly. "It's really nice. And...um...black."
A moment of silence stretched between them, during which Remus contemplated the logistics of changing his name and moving away but then he wouldn’t have a name that he heard coming out of Sirius’s mouth.
Sirius pressed his lips together like he was trying not to laugh. "Well, that's why my name is Sirius Black, I guess."
"Right. I should probably go now before I say something else dumb," Remus muttered, already turning to retreat.
"Wait!" Sirius said, reaching out to grab Remus's arm. "I think your sweater is really cool. It has the moon on it, right? Space is my second favorite thing."
Remus looked down at his sweater in surprise, as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing. "Oh. Yeah, it is. What's your first favorite?"
"Dogs," Sirius said proudly, releasing Remus's arm to gesture enthusiastically. "Big ones, especially. I'm gonna have like, twenty of them when I grow up. My mother won't let me have one now because she says they're 'dirty and disobedient which is dumb really because everybody knows dogs are crazy loyal'" he made exaggerated air quotes, his voice momentarily hardening before the smile returned to his face. "But one day I'm going to get all the dogs I want."
"Twenty is a lot of dogs," Remus observed nodding his head slowly, feeling the knot in his stomach loosen just a fraction.
"I know," Sirius agreed cheerfully. "I'll need a farm or a mansion. And probably a lot of dog food. But it'll be worth it." He paused, studying Remus with surprising intensity for a seven-year-old. "Do you want to see how fast I can go across the monkey bars? I've been practicing all week. I'm almost as fast as Frank now, and he's in third grade."
"Sure," Remus said, managing a small smile.
"Awesome!" Sirius exclaimed, already scrambling up the ladder. "Watch this! And count how many seconds it takes, okay?"
Remus dutifully counted as Sirius swung from bar to bar with impressive speed, his movements fluid and confident. "Seven seconds!" Remus called when Sirius dropped to the ground at the other end.
"Yes!" Sirius pumped his fist in victory. "That's two seconds faster than yesterday! Frank better watch out." He jogged back to where Remus was standing. "What are you good at? I bet you're good at something cool."
The question caught Remus off guard. No one had ever asked him that before. "I'm pretty good at drawing," he admitted after a moment. "And reading. The lady in library lets me borrow books from the fourth-grade shelf."
"Reading and drawing?" Sirius sounded genuinely impressed. "That's like, two things. I'm just good at monkey bars and being loud. At least, that's what everyone tells me. That I never shut up." He grinned, but Remus noticed it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hey, I have an idea! I love drawing too so we can get some paper from Mrs. McGonnagall and you can show me your drawings? I know you like space so you can draw me my star. You know, Sirius! "
"How do you know I like space?" Remus asked, surprised.
Sirius gestured at Remus's sweater. "You're literally wearing a moon sweater. And you have constellation stickers on your folder. And your lunchbox has a Saturn on it. And you always pick the astronomy books during free reading time." He shrugged, as if this level of observation was perfectly normal. "I notice things."
"You noticed all that about me?" Remus couldn't hide his astonishment.
"Yeah!" Sirius nodded enthusiastically. "I sit behind you, so I see your stuff all the time. And sometimes when you're reading books, you get this really serious look on your face, like this." He scrunched up his features in an exaggerated impression of concentration that made Remus laugh despite himself.
"I don't look like that," he protested.
"You totally do," Sirius insisted. "It's cool though. Come on, let's go draw!"
Remus hesitated. "But what about recess? Don't you want to play outside?"
Sirius waved a dismissive hand. "We can play outside any time, I am so curious about your drawings."
Remus smiled, feeling the weight in his chest lift as he followed Sirius toward the school building, his heart a little lighter, his thoughts a little clearer. He couldn’t wait to tell everything that happened to his parents.