Chapter Text
I shift in my bed, trying to find a way to stay asleep longer. My body is a bit sore from the weight of deep sleep. The faint smell of coffee being brewed lingers in the air, luring me awake. I shift to my side, attempting to steal a few more minutes. I pull my blanket over my head, hoping it’ll block out the sunlight already creeping in through my window. The heat of it starts to build under the covers, it is like lying in a toaster. Eventually, I give up, push the blanket down, and let out a long breath. I open my eyes. The soft light pouring through my window catches my attention, and for a moment, I just lie there. The way it filters in, shades of soft purples, blues, and pinks glowing through the patterned glass. It is peaceful in a way I do not usually let myself feel. These are the colours that remind me I am home. They are gentle. Familiar. I only get this kind of stillness here. At school, everything is fast, moving, and loud.
I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes. The calm clings to me like mist. I tie my curls into a loose bun, not caring if it’s perfect. It just needs to be out of my face. I freshen up, slide on my slippers, and shuffle down the stairs. Dad’s already up. I can hear Bowie drifting faintly through the house, “Fill Your Heart” humming from the living room. The sound is old and a little scratchy, like the record’s been played too many times, which somehow makes it better. I peek into his office and see him hunched over a letter, he’s writing again. Lately, he’s been buried in parchment but I don’t question why.
In the kitchen, I grab a mug and pour myself some coffee. The warmth of it in my hands is comforting. As I settle at the table, I notice today’s Daily Prophet, still untouched. That’s unusual. The headline grabs me instantly:
“Escape from Azkaban.”
I stare at it for a second before I begin to read.
“Sirius Black.”
The article is vague yet heavy all at once. A name I barely know, but something about it pulls at me. My stomach knots, and I do not understand why. The paper feels heavy in my hands. The kitchen is suddenly too quiet. Then I start to spiral. Not all at once, but like water leaking through a crack. I read the same sentence twice, then again, slower. My thoughts run faster than I can keep up with. I feel my fingers tighten around the mug, but I cannot let go. My heart picks up pace. The room feels smaller, tighter. My chest does not hurt, but it is like I cannot get enough air. My eyes scan the words over and over, but they stop meaning anything.
What does this mean?
How did he escape?
How could someone break out of Azkaban?
I blink hard, but the dizziness creeps in. I press the heel of my hand against my chest, hoping it will stop the shaking. I don’t realise I have stopped drinking my coffee or that I have started breathing through my mouth to keep up. Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me and I jump.
“Dad! You scared me,” I say, my voice catching somewhere between startled and laughing.
“Good morning to you too, kid,” Remus says, raising an eyebrow, coffee in hand. “What’s got you all shaken up?”
I hesitate, holding the paper in my hand. “I just read the news… Have you ever heard of someone named Sirius Black?”
He freezes. It’s small, but I notice. The way his grip on the mug tightens, just for a second.“Where did you hear that name?”
I glance down at the headline again, unsure of how to even begin. “It’s on the front page. He escaped.”
Dad takes the paper gently from my hand and scans it. His face changes to something between angry and sad. “He’s dangerous. But he’s just a criminal. Nothing more.” He folds the paper without finishing it and tosses it in the trash. “You shouldn’t have read that,” he mutters.
“Why don’t you want me to know about him?” I ask quietly. “You look…a bit disturbed.”
Remus closes his eyes for a second, like he is gathering himself. His voice is softer when he speaks again. “Because he is the reason James and Lily Potter are dead. He was one of their best friends, and he betrayed them.” He pinches between his brows. “My star, that is not something I ever wanted to explain to you over coffee.”
My chest tightens, but I do not say anything. There is not much to say. It hurts in a way I cannot explain, like watching someone you love bleed and not knowing how to help.
He walks over and sits beside me. His presence alone makes it easier to breathe, but my body is still buzzing. I can feel the panic curling at the edges, like it is trying to find a way back in. My hands are cold, even though I am holding a warm mug. My leg is shaking without me meaning it to. I know I am spiralling, which is typical for me, but I try to push it down. I set the mug down carefully, scared it will slip.
“I know it’s a lot,” he says after a moment. “But listen to me, okay? You don’t have to worry-"
“Fine, can you at least answer one more question?” I cut in anxiously.
Remus nods once, gently.
“Do I have to worry about my safety? Especially when I’m back at school?” I ask, my voice tipping into something more fragile. “I mean… Harry is not only family, but we literally are in the same school, same house. What if he is coming after Harry while we are at Hogwarts…”
And then it happens. Again.
I feel it surge, the panic, like floodwater against a dam. I try to breathe through it, but the thoughts start piling up. What if he comes for Harry? What if we’re all targets? What if this whole thing is just starting? My chest tightens. My breathing turns shallow. My fingers start to tremble, and I feel the panic climbing higher, faster, harder.
“Hey, hey,” Remus says gently, reaching across the table and placing his hand over mine. “Look at me.”
I try, but my eyes are stinging, and everything is blurry.
“Breathe with me,” he says softly. “Just follow me. In…” He inhales slowly through his nose, his hand still wrapped around mine. “And out.”
I follow. It’s shaky at first, but I try again.
In. Out.
“You’re safe,” he says. “No one’s getting to you, not while I’m around. And not at Hogwarts.”
I nod, slowly. The panic loosens, not gone, but more contained. I glance down at our hands, mine still trembling, his steady. He squeezes mine.
“You’re going back to Hogwarts soon,” he says gently, “and I’m going with you.”
I blink. “You’re what?”
“I’m going to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor,” he says, smiling just a little. “They asked me last month. It took me a while to decide.”
I feel the tension in my shoulders start to ease.“You’re going to be at school?”
He nods. “Every day. Every weekend. Same castle. I’ll be right there.”
That changes everything. I didn’t even realise how tightly I was holding myself until my muscles started to let go. He notices. Reaches out and pulls me into his side. His arm wraps around me, and my head drops onto his shoulder like it has been waiting to land there all morning.
“Thank Merlin,” I breathe, my voice breaking just slightly with relief.
After a while, once the quiet settles and my breathing evens out, Dad stands and ruffles my hair the way he always does when he’s trying to lighten the mood. “Come on,” he says, “let’s make something to eat, you will feel better.”
We end up side by side, flipping eggs and burning the toast because we got distracted laughing about some old Hogwarts story he only half remembers. He lets me make hot chocolate pancakes, just how I like it, and I pretend not to notice when he slips extra chocolate chips into mine. The house feels warmer again, like us. After we eat, we gather up my supply list and he grabs our bags with a flick of his wand. Before we head out, he double-checks that I have everything like I’m still six, and I roll my eyes but let him. We spend the rest of the day picking up everything I’ll need for school: books, new robes, a stack of Fizzing Whizbees I don’t need but he insists on and it’s easy, familiar. He’s a bit more attentive than usual, like he’s making sure I’m really okay. And even though there’s still something that feels off, I feel steady again. Safe. Because at the end of the day, it’s just me and Dad and that’s how it’s always been.