#dad!remus

Fred was sprawled at the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands, his gaze glued to you. He looked effortlessly confident- most people wouldn’t have guessed the cool smirk on his face hid how utterly whipped he was for the girl in front of him. You were everything he wasn’t: nonchalant where he was charming, wild where he was playful, and untouchable in ways that drove him completely mad.

You took a long drag, blowing the smoke into the air, holding out the blunt for him to take a hit- he waved his hand, showing he had plenty for the night.

“You’re hopeless, Weasley,” You muttered, smirking at him as you flicked the ash into a tray beside your bed. “Who knew a Gryffindor could be such a prude?”

Fred grinned, refusing to take the bait. “Hopeless?” He repeated, shifting closer on the bed. “Funny, I thought I was charming my way right into your good graces.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you leaned back against the headboard. “Charming? Is that what you’re calling it now? Thought it was just you being too stubborn to take a hint.”

Fred chuckled, his grin widening as he rested his head against the wall, watching you with that lazy confidence that made your stomach twist in ways you’d never admit. “You keep opening the door for me, though.” His voice dropped into something softer. “Makes me wonder if you’re as tough as you let on.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, tilting your head like you were daring him to keep going. “Careful, Weasley,” your voice lowered. “You might actually get to know me, and then you’ll have no excuses when I break your heart.”

Fred’s grin faltered for a split second, and something softer flickered in his eyes before he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think I’d take my chances,” He murmured, his voice quieter now. “Might be worth it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, some witty remark ready to deflect the tension that had settled between you, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you exhaled sharply, shaking your head like you couldn’t believe him.

You flicked your Dutch into the tray, leaning back fully now, your posture still guarded but less sharp.

“You’re a fool, Fred,” You hummed, your tone lighter but still tinged with that edge of sarcasm that had always been your armor. “That's not the first time I've heard that line.”

Fred watched you, his gaze lingering as you leaned back into the pillows. For a moment, you were quiet, your usual sharp tongue subdued as the music filled the silence. Fred thought you might tell him to leave- call it a night and push him out the door with a smirk and some snarky quip about how he’d overstayed his welcome. Your parents would be home any minute; Remus didn't like boys in your room- Sirius never minded it too much. As long as he wasn't home.

Instead, you shifted slightly, your eyes growing heavier as you let out a soft sigh, your head tilting back against the pillows. Fred blinked, caught off guard as your edges softened, just for a moment. Your hand raised and curled to call him over.

Fred was done for.

He knew who you were, everyone did. Even Sirius would remark you put his younger self to shame with your reputation. But Merlin. Seeing you leaned back, your pretty slightly reddened eyes, in your canopy bed, with you blank silk pillows framing your halo of hair so perfectly. One arm draped over your stomach and the other calling him over?

He was a fool, but not an idiot.

Fred moved carefully, crawling across the bed with a deliberate slowness that felt at odds with his usual carefree demeanor. His confidence remained intact, but his grin had softened, replaced by something far more tender as he closed the distance between you. He stopped just inches from your face, his weight braced on one arm as he gazed down at you. His free hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a gentleness that made your heart stutter.

“You’re something else, you know that?” He murmured, his voice low and warm, carrying the same teasing lilt but softened by the weight of the moment.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes meeting his as you let the smallest smirk tug at your lips. “You're predictable,” You shot back, your voice quieter than usual, the sharp edges dulled just enough to make him wonder if this was you letting him in.

Fred’s grin twitched, and instead of replying, he leaned in closer, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. The closeness made your breath hitch, but you held your ground, refusing to let him see how your resolve was beginning to waver.

“You’re not getting away with that one, love,” he whispered, his words brushing against your lips.

And then he kissed you.

It was slow, deliberate, and maddeningly careful, as though he was savoring every second, every taste of you. There was hunger in the way his lips moved against yours, but it wasn’t greedy- it was sweet, like he couldn’t believe he was here, like he didn’t dare rush it for fear of breaking whatever fragile magic hung between you. His hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek in slow, lazy circles as if to ground himself in the moment.

You felt yourself melting into him, your usual fire and defiance tempered by the way he lavished attention on you, drawing out every bit of softness you tried so hard to hide. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer as you gave in to the kiss, matching his intensity.

Fred groaned softly against your lips, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist, anchoring you beneath him. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you with a look that made your heart ache.

“You know,” he said, his voice hushed and full of that same maddening tenderness, “for someone who’s supposed to be a heartbreaker, you’re awfully good at letting me in.”

Your lips twitched, a small scoff escaping you even as your cheeks flushed. “Don’t get used to it, Weasley.”

Fred chuckled, leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your mouth, slower this time. “Too late,” He murmured, his voice like a vow. “I’m already gone for you.”

You didn’t respond, your usual sarcasm failing you as your heart betrayed you with its racing. Instead, you let yourself fall back against the pillows again, Fred’s warmth settling over you like a blanket.

Fred’s gaze lingered on you as your eyes grew heavier, the sharpness in your demeanor melting into something quieter, softer. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, watching every subtle shift in your expression as you drifted closer to sleep. His heart was doing that maddening thing again, beating so hard he was certain you could feel it in the way his hand rested on your waist.

You shifted slightly, letting out a soft sigh as your head lolled back against the pillows. The arm that had been draped across your stomach lazily lifted, your fingers finding their way to his hair, brushing through it in slow, absentminded motions. Fred felt his breath catch as he leaned down, settling his head on your chest, his ear pressed to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

The scent of lavender and smoke lingered on your skin, intoxicating in a way that made his chest ache. You were supposed to be scary, the girl everyone whispered about but could never quite keep. He was lucky you even entertained his offer of smoking together once- let alone being invited over for another go. But here you were, your fingers combing gently through his hair as though it was where you always wanted to be.

“You’re terrifying,” He murmured against you, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Your lips quirked into a faint smile, your eyes closed but your hand still moving in that soothing rhythm. “You’ve mentioned,” you replied, your voice laced with drowsy amusement. “Still not running, though.”

Fred chuckled softly, shaking his head against your chest. “Not a chance,” he muttered, looking up at you from where he lay. “You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your fingers paused in his hair, and for a second, he wondered if he’d gone too far. But then you laughed, low and husky, and it sent a warmth straight through him. “Good,” you said, your voice softening in a way that made him want to hold onto the moment forever. “You'll remember me that way.”

Fred tilted his head slightly, watching you through the dim light. You were half-asleep, your guard completely down, and he could see it- the tiny cracks in your armor, the parts of you you tried so hard to hide. And Merlin, he was a goner. Completely and utterly gone for the girl who couldn’t care less, except when she did.

“I think I’m in trouble, love,” He whispered, the words more for himself than for you.

You didn’t respond, your breathing steady as you drifted further into sleep. But your fingers kept moving through his hair, and Fred couldn’t help but smile, settling deeper into you as his eyes fluttered shut.

The quiet cry woke him. It wasn’t a loud or desperate sound, just enough to cut through the silence of the early morning and pierce the few seconds of peace the house seemed to hold. Remus slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the dimness of the room, and looked at you. You were still fast asleep beside him, your face relaxed, one hand gently resting on the pillow. He stayed still for a moment, contemplating the calm on your face, before carefully getting up. He didn’t want to wake you.

He walked down the hall, his bare feet making almost no sound against the wooden floor. The cry had faded to a low whimper, but it was still there, insistent, as if the baby knew he was coming. Pushing open the slightly ajar door to her room, the soft light from the nightlight revealed the small form in the crib. She squirmed restlessly, tiny fists clenched, her eyes still damp.

Remus approached cautiously, leaning over her. “Hey, my little star, it’s okay. Daddy’s here,” he whispered, his voice so soft it almost got lost in the sound of his breath. With a skill he never imagined he’d have before becoming a father, he lifted her into his arms, holding her with the tenderness she seemed to require, as though she were made of fine glass.

She was so small, so absurdly small, that he always found himself wondering how something so fragile could exist. He adjusted her little body against his chest, feeling her tiny fingers close around one of the folds of his shirt. As he rocked her gently, he looked at her face, the features still so delicate, so full of possibilities. “Do you have any idea how loved you are?” he whispered. “No, of course not. But you are. So much it almost hurts.”

He continued rocking her softly, his large hands contrasting with her little body. Every movement felt like a miracle. He looked at his own hands, marked with old scars, the uneven lines crossing the skin like memories of another life. A life where he never could have imagined being here, in this house, holding his daughter in his arms. “You know, sometimes I still think this is a dream. That I’ll wake up and all of this will just be something I made up to feel less alone.”

He let out a low laugh, almost humorless, but the little one responded with a soft sound, as if trying to talk to him. “Ah, so you are really here, huh?” he said, squeezing her a little tighter against him. “You and your mum… you’ve made everything so real. So much better.”

His thoughts drifted to you, sleeping in the room next door. He remembered so many nights when you simply held him, even when he tried to hide the shadows in his mind. You always seemed to know. Always seemed to understand. “She’s amazing, you know?” he confided in the baby, as if she could understand him. “Your mum. She loves me in a way I never thought possible. And you? You’re proof of that. Proof that I’m not alone anymore.”

The baby began to relax, her little body growing heavier in his arms. He sat in the rocking chair beside the crib, adjusting her so she could rest against him. The room seemed wrapped in a bubble of calm, only the light sound of her breathing and the creak of the chair filling the space.

He looked at her one more time, admiring the fine lashes, the perfect curve of her cheeks. How could someone so small carry so much love? It was almost overwhelming. He leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’ll never need to doubt that, you know? How much you are loved. I promise.”

The almost imperceptible sound of the door creaking made him raise his head, his senses still sharp from the restlessness of the days following the full moon. For a moment, his body tensed, but then he saw her. You were there, standing in the doorway, your face softly lit by the light of the nightlight. Your eyes held concern, but also something else—something he recognized, and that made his heart tighten: pure love.

“You should be resting,” you said, your voice soft to not disturb the little one.

He smiled, that smile that always seemed to hold a world of unspoken stories. “And so should you,” he replied, gently rocking the chair while keeping the baby nestled against his chest. “I heard her little cry, and I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

You moved closer slowly, your eyes fixed on him and the sleeping baby. Each step seemed filled with care, as if you, too, didn’t want to break the magical stillness of the moment. When you reached them, you crouched beside the chair, your hand gently touching his thigh. “Remus…” you began, hesitating but with a voice full of affection. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. It’s been so few days since the last full moon. You need to rest.”

He let out a low laugh, almost inaudible, as he looked at you. “I’m fine,” he said, but the way his eyes darted away for a brief moment gave him away. “Besides, look at her…” He tilted his head to look at the little one in his arms, a soft glow in his eyes. “How could I want to be anywhere else?”

You smiled, but there was a tender weight in your expression. “I heard what you said,” you murmured. He lifted his gaze to you, confused for a moment, until he realized what you were talking about.

“You heard?” he asked, and there was something vulnerable in his voice, something he rarely let show.

You nodded, your eyes beginning to shine with unshed tears. “About how you think this might be a dream… About how you love us. I just want you to know that this is real, Remus. We are real. I am real. And I love you more than anything in this world.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned a little forward, until their foreheads almost touched. “I know,” he whispered, his voice so full of emotion it barely came out. “It’s just that… sometimes it’s hard to believe. Not because I doubt you, but because I never thought I deserved something like this. You. Her. All of this.”

Your hand reached up to touch his face, your fingers gliding gently over the stubble that was beginning to form. “You do deserve it, Remus. And I’ll remind you of that every day, if I have to.” Your voice was firm, but full of sweetness, as if each word was a caress.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, before opening a small, genuine smile. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Someone has to take care of you, since you insist on taking care of everyone,” you replied, the softness turning into a hint of teasing. He chuckled quietly, and the sound warmed his chest.

“So… do you want to hold her?” he asked, shifting slightly in the chair to lift the baby with care.

You nodded and opened your arms, accepting her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And, of course, she was. When you held her, she made a soft sound, something between a sigh and a grunt, before snuggling comfortably against you. You looked at her with an expression of pure adoration, your fingers gently stroking her back as she fell back asleep.

Remus watched for a moment, his eyes fixed on you as you rocked the baby with such tenderness that it seemed impossible for it to be anything mundane. It was as if every gesture of yours was a deliberate act of love, something he never failed to notice, even after all this time together. He reached out and adjusted a strand of hair that had fallen across your face, the touch delicate, almost reverent.

You were so close that the space between you seemed to dissolve. He let his arms rest around your body, pulling you gently closer, as if he needed this contact to anchor his own feelings. You leaned against him, the warmth of both of you creating a bubble of comfort around the little one, who was now completely peaceful, nestled in your arms.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just looked at her, your faces so close that your breaths mingled. The light from the night lamp bathed the room in a soft glow, making everything even more intimate. The baby moved her little hand, letting out an almost imperceptible sigh, and both of you smiled at the same time, as if it were the most extraordinary thing you had ever witnessed.

Remus tilted his face to the side, his lips brushing lightly against your temple as he whispered, “Thank you.”

The word was so simple, but the weight of it made you close your eyes for a moment, absorbing everything it carried. It wasn’t just a thank you for that moment. It was for everything. For you being there, for her existence, for everything he had never dared believe he could have.

“Why?” you asked softly, turning your face just enough to meet his eyes. There was a soft gleam in them, something that made your heart race even after so many moments like that.

“For this,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “For you. For her. For us. I still wonder how I got so lucky… how the universe was generous enough to give me something like this.” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t find the words to express what he felt. “I never imagined I could be this happy. This complete.”

You smiled, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a light kiss, but one full of meaning. “I feel lucky too, you know? Every day. For you, for her, for everything we’ve built together.” Your voice was soft, but every word carried the weight of an unshakable truth.

You stayed like that for a few more minutes, his arms around you, his hands covering yours as you still held the baby. The world outside seemed distant, almost nonexistent. Everything that mattered was right there, in that room.

When the little one finally fell completely asleep, you and Remus exchanged a knowing glance, as if you both knew exactly what to do without needing to say anything. He leaned in to take the baby back with all the care, holding her against his chest while you adjusted the blanket in the crib. Both of your movements were synchronized, a perfect reflection of the partnership you had built.

As he placed her in the crib, he lingered for a second longer, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. He let out a soft sigh before straightening up, passing his arms around you again as you both pulled away.

“I love you both,” he said, his voice low but so full of feeling that it made your eyes burn. You rested your head against his shoulder, your arms around his waist, as if you wanted to hold him as close as possible.

“And we love you, Remus,” you replied, squeezing him a little tighter. “Always.”

“Night Sirius,” Remus said as he walked towards the door. The rest of the members of the Order of the Phoenix were still sitting around the table. Some seemed to be half asleep while the rest were caught up in small talk.

“Night Y/N,” Remus said, turning around to flash her a smile before leaving to his room upstairs. She smiled back at him but said nothing. Her mind was swirling as if caught in the wind.

“Night Moony!” Sirius yelled after his friend. In return, he received a small laughter as Remus closed his door. Her father turned around on his heels, heading to the kitchen. She followed him, wanting to ask a question.

“You hungry?” he asked her, rummaging through the fridge. He dumped a few sandwich options on the countertop, waving his wand summoning the bread in the cupboard to his right.

“Not really. I have a question…” she answered, trailing off at the end. The wind feeling turned into a full blown storm, knocking her out of balance. Sirius was so caught up in making a sandwich that he hardly heard what she had answered.

A thud caught his attention though. He spun around, looking at his daughter who was leaning against the doorframe. His let his eyes wander over her body. Trembling, pale and unsteady.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, moving towards her without waiting for a reply. A gently arm around her waist and he helped her towards a chair by the table that Tonks had offered. Being the only one that had noticed the sudden change, she looked worried at her two friends. Her feet dragged over the hardwood floor, not cooperating with her. Once she was seated, Sirius sat down on his knees in front of her. His eyes were trying to lock with hers, but they were too unfocused. That worried him even more.

“Look at me, Y/N. Hey, come on. Talk to me,” he said. A gentle hand pulled her chin up, so she faced him. Slowly he began to brush his fingers over the top of her hand in a reassuring way. Grey lazy eyes stared back at him for a second before going unfocused again. Panicked, Sirius ran a hand through his long black hair. With a wave of her wand, Tonks conjured a glass of water, handing it to Sirius.

“Drink,” he ordered. No reaction. Her body swayed in the chair, eventually leaning against the shoulder of her father. He put the glass down on the table and began to rub her back.

“It’s alright, darling. It’s alright… - Do you want me to get uncle Moony?” he whispered in her ear. No reaction. He stopped moving his hand, leaving it on the top part of her back, waiting to feel her breathing. It was shallow and uneven. Shit, he thought.

Without a warning all of her body weight was once more shifted onto Sirius. He held her in his arms, gently lowering her to the floor. One hand holding her head and the other supporting her waist. Nymphadora let out a small scream, which caught the attention of everyone around the table.

“REMUS!” Sirius yelled in panic as he saw her eyes roll back into her head. Molly Weasley was on her feet in seconds, hovering above them with confusion and worry etched on her face.

A few seconds later a door upstairs were flung open and the sound of footsteps running down the stairs was the only sound to be heard. Everyone else had stopped talking, following the commotion at the end of the room with caution.

“What? What?” Remus asked frantically as he ran into the room, wand up ready to fight. Upon seeing his best friend and his daughter on the ground he lowered his wand and jumped the few steps in between the door and them.

“She just collapsed…” Sirius mumbled, trying his best to force the tears back. Remus completely ignored the other people in the room and focused all of his attention on the unconscious girl on the floor. She was like a daughter to him. He would do anything to keep her safe. Not in a million years had he thought of her being injured at home. His fear was seeing her hurt in the middle of a battle.

“What’s going on?” Ron cried out at the end of the table. Next to him sat two very concerned children, Harry and Hermione. The golden trio were told to stay seated by Molly, who tried her best to give Y/N, Remus and Sirius enough space. The rest of the people in the room was Mad-Eye Moody, the rest of the Weasley family, Albus Dumbledore and Auror Kingsley. All looked at the scene unfold.

“Right, I think it’s best to give them some space,” said Arthur Weasley suddenly. Everyone’s eyes were on the Black’s and Lupin. Arthur wanted to give them more space than Molly, he wanted to give her some privacy once she woke up. Everyone slowly got up, following Arthur upstairs. No one wanted to leave before knowing if the young Black was alright. Molly gave her husband an appreciative look before he left.

Tonks outright refused to leave and so did Molly. They stayed back enough to let Remus kneel next to Y/N on the opposite side of Sirius.

“Love? Can you hear me?” he asked rather loudly. No response. Having read countless of books, including medical and healing books, Remus went on autopilot. At first, he gently rubbed her sternum to wake her. As that did nothing, he called her name again, rubbing harder.

“There we go! Come on, sweetheart. Open your eyes,” he coached as he saw her hands turn into fists. Remus very well knew that what he was doing was hurting her, but it was the best way to wake her up. After being Moony, his werewolf self, he would occasionally fall unconscious, scaring the living daylight out of his mates. They used to do the same after reading it in a book similar to the ones he had read.