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atlasdoe · 3 days

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seed moon fest snippets

Sometimes you just have to admit defeat and say that a story simply isn't going to be finished 😂 Anyway, here's my attempt at knocking Remus up for my own informal fest. It's nearly 3K words of unedited nonsense and unfinished scenes that was supposed to be a much longer fic that spanned all of OOTP.

Someone else with more brain cells than me should definitely knock Remus up during OOTP properly, as he deserves. Until then, enjoy this fragmented chaos:

---

September 1995

“We need to talk,” Remus says as he unwinds his scarf.

“The last time you said that to me, you wanted a divorce.” Sirius helps him out of his cloak and hangs it on the rack.

The corner of Remus’s mouth quirks. “Can’t exactly divorce you twice, can I?”

“I suppose not.” Sirius examines him. “You look a bit peaky.”

“Yes, that’s what--”

“Lupin! Black!” Kingsley’s voice carries up the stairs. “Order meeting!”

Sirius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Duty calls. You can divorce me again after the meeting.”

***

Dumbledore hands out assignments at the end of the meeting--guard duty for everyone except Sirius and Remus, as usual. Sirius is ordered to stay in the house, and Remus is assigned to another werewolf pack, this time in Poland.

“No,” Remus says, and the whole room goes silent.

“Remus,” Dumbledore says after a moment, “you are the only member of the Order who is able to infiltrate the packs, and need I remind you of the importance of--”

“Yes, I’m aware of the importance of my missions,” Remus says dryly. “Given how successful they were in the first war, I understand why you want me to repeat them. The answer is still no. I will not be infiltrating any wolf packs for the foreseeable future, and Severus, I will no longer require Wolfsbane from you.”

“Remus,” Sirius protests, “you can’t--”

“I can,” Remus says forcefully.

“But this is your health we’re talking about!”

“Lupin’s no use to us if he won’t perform his missions as instructed,” Snape says. “Of course I’ll no longer be providing Wolfsbane to someone who refuses to make a contribution to the cause.”

“I don’t understand why,” Molly begins.

“Neither do I,” Sirius says.

“Remus, if you could enlighten us--”

“Sonorus!” Remus shouts, pointing his wand at his stomach.

A steady thud thud thud fills the room, and it takes Sirius several seconds to realize that the heartbeat isn’t Remus’s.

“Oh, Merlin,” he breathes as eyes widen around the table.

A flurry of emotions flash across Dumbledore’s face--anger, disappointment, resignation. He settles on grim. “You intend to keep the baby, then, Mr. Lupin?”

Remus flinches slightly, but he holds Dumbledore’s gaze. “Yes.”

“Very well. Your services are indeed no longer required, and Severus will no longer provide you with Wolfsbane for the moon.”

“You can’t fucking do that!” Sirius shouts at Dumbledore. “Just because he’s physically unable to be your puppet-”

“It’s poisonous to the baby,” Remus says quietly, and Sirius’s mouth snaps shut. “Wolfsbane, I mean. I can’t take it while I’m--while I’m pregnant.”

***

Dumbledore ends the meeting after that. Thankfully sensing that Sirius and Remus have a lot to talk about, the rest of the members file out of the kitchen quickly, leaving them alone.

“So,” Sirius says after a moment. “Is it, er--”

“Yes, Sirius,” Remus says tiredly. “It’s yours.”

“Oh, good,” Sirius says, and then quickly adds, “Not that it would have been a problem if it wasn’t! Obviously, you were allowed to have a life these past thirteen years, and--”

Remus kisses him. “Shut up.”

“So, er, in June…”

“Yes. We could blame it on Dumbledore, really. He’s the one who sent you to me after the Task.”

“Oh, Merlin.” Sirius passes a hand over his eyes, shaking with silent laughter. “That would go over well, after tonight.”

Remus smiles briefly, but it quickly drops from his face. “I didn't mean to break the news like this, and I know I made the decision without even speaking to you, but--”

“Remus,” Sirius says, “it’s fine, really. I mean, Merlin, a baby. Of course I wasn’t expecting it, but I think it’s great.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I mean, it’s also insane. I’m still a convict who isn’t allowed to leave the most heavily-warded house in Britain, which also happens to be the headquarters for a secret organization fighting the darkest wizard of our time, and you’re a werewolf living through an era of unprecedented anti-lycanthropic legislation. This is madness, and yet, I’m thrilled.”

Remus bites his lip. “Can we do this?”

“Yes.” Sirius reaches for his hand. “We can do this. I used Crookshanks to access my vaults last year, and I can do it again. We won’t hurt for gold. This is the safest house in Britain, so you’ll move in here permanently. We’ll have nine months to make it, er, baby-proof, but yes we can do this. We will do this.”

“Six months.”

“What?”

“I’m twelve weeks along, so we have roughly six months to get everything ready, although the baby might decide to make an early appearance.”

Sirius grins. “Six months it is. I like a challenge.”

“You’re taking this rather well.”

Sirius shrugs. “Always wanted to have a baby with you.”

“What?”

“If we raise the baby here, we’re taking Harry in as well,” Sirius goes on, as if he hadn’t just said something earth-shattering. “I’m not going to send him to his relatives for another summer, and then raise another child simply because they’re my blood.”

“I agree,” Remus says. “But you--want this? You’ve wanted this?”

“Wouldn’t have gone about it like this, but yeah.” Sirius’s lips quirk. “Next time, we’ll do it after I clear my name and we’re living somewhere that isn’t a house full of dark objects.”

“What do you mean, next time?”

***

“Sirius, where’s Kreacher?”

“Hogwarts,” Sirius says, and Remus blinks at him.

“Hogwarts?”

“I’m not having him in this house once the baby arrives.” Sirius resumes his scrubbing, though perhaps with more force than is called for. “I grew up with that elf, and I won’t have the baby do the same. I won’t put them through that.”

“Oh, Sirius.”

“And I wasn’t going to behead him like my dear old mother would have, so sending him to work in the kitchens at Hogwarts seemed like the best solution.”

“That was kind of you.”

***

“Well?” Remus asks, holding out his arms. “What do you think?”

Sirius circles him, examining the outfit.

“It’ll do,” he finally declares.

“It’ll do? I should hope so! This one alone costs more than I made in a year at Hogwarts.” Sirius had insisted on buying him a whole new wardrobe as soon as Remus started having difficulty fitting into his usual clothes. He’ll have to buy Remus new clothes every few weeks now as Remus increases in size, and doesn’t seem to see an issue with that.

***

December 1995

“Remus is still staying here,” Sirius says, “and, er, there’s something you should know before you see him.”

Fred and George give him twin glares that could kill, and Sirius can’t blame them--their father might be dying, might be dead already, and Sirius wants to talk about one of their former professors? But Harry looks inquisitive, so Sirius plunges on. “He’s going to look a bit different when you see him. He’s, er, pregnant, and he's pretty far along."

“Pregnant!” Ron blurts, while everyone else stares at Sirius in shock.

“You’re the other father, then,” Ginny says, and she doesn’t sound surprised at all.

“Are you?” Harry demands.

“I am,” Sirius says. “It…wasn’t planned, to say the least.”

Remus comes into the basement kitchen as Molly and Sirius are in the middle of making breakfast, and he does a double-take at the number of people who have appeared in the house overnight.

“Fill Remus in, Harry, won’t you?” Sirius asks over his shoulder as he prods at the bacon.

He listens as Harry recounts the events of the previous night. At the end, Harry adds, “And Sirius told us about the baby, so, er, congratulations, Professor.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl, Professor?” Ginny asks.

“No, we want it to be a surprise.”

Now that Arthur’s out of danger, his children are more than happy to pepper Remus with questions about the baby. He patiently answers all of them while they eat breakfast, and even lets Ginny feel the baby kick when she asks. They’re always more active after a meal.

After breakfast, the kids go off to nap, except for Harry, who lingers in the kitchen with Sirius and Remus.

“Where’s the baby going to stay after they’re born?”

“Here, with us,” Sirius says. “Remus has already moved in, and we’re turning one of the guest bedrooms into a nursery.”

Harry nods. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Harry,” Remus says gently. “There’s a place for you here, too.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean--”

“I know you didn’t, but we want you to know that.”

“I don’t have to go back to the Dursleys?”

“Dumbledore will want you to, and he’ll probably try to force you to go,” Sirius says. “If I have to kidnap you from Kings Cross myself, I will. We’re not letting you go back.”

“As long as that’s alright with you, of course,” Remus says. “It won’t be easy, living with a newborn.”

“Anything is better than the Dursleys,” Harry says fervently, and then he throws himself into Sirius’s arms. “Thank you.”

***

Pregnancy seems to calm the wolf, a side effect Remus hadn’t been expecting. He still prefers moons where he can take Wolfsbane, but at least these transformations aren’t traumatic without it. He still sometimes dislocates a joint or breaks a bone during the transformation itself, but Sirius tells him that while he’s the wolf, all he does is nest and sleep.

Moony has decided that the Black family library is the perfect place to build his nest, and he spends each moon gathering items from around the house and dragging them to the library. So far, he’s confiscated all the couch cushions, every blanket that had been moldering in a wardrobe, and three of Sirius’s cloaks.

***

Remus’s labor begins on a sunny Tuesday shortly after lunch, and he stays in early labor well into the night. He’s able to go about his day mostly as normal, despite the increasing discomfort.

That changes in the early hours of the morning, when he grips Sirius’s arm hard enough to bruise and grits out, “Get Molly.”

Their birth plan isn’t much of one--they’ve been relying on Sirius’s years-old Healer training and whatever books they can lay their hands on. They can’t risk telling anyone about the baby who wasn’t at that initial Order meeting, not even Poppy. Molly has helped two wix friends through their own pregnancies, so she’s the closest thing to an obstetrician that they have.

She helps keep Remus comfortable, checks to see how dilated he is, and coaches him on when to push. She makes sure Sirius is actively involved as well, and he’s the one to catch their son as Remus pushes him into the world.

“Oh, fuck,” Remus wheezes as Sirius cradles the infant in his hands, tears coursing down his cheeks. “Oh, fuck, I am never doing that again.”

The baby starts to wail in earnest, and Sirius laughs, giddy and relieved and so fucking terrified. Molly helps Remus with the after birth, and then Sirius lays the baby on his chest.

“Still think he’s a Teddy?” Sirius asks softly while Remus cuddles the baby close. He presses his nose to the top of the baby’s head and breathes.

“Yes,” Remus says finally. “He’s definitely a Teddy.”

***

Harry knocks on McGonagall’s office door precisely at eight, and it swings open immediately.

“Mr. Potter, come in,” she says. “Have a seat.”

He sits in front of her desk, wondering what task she’ll assign him for detention tonight. Scrubbing all the toilets on the fifth floor with a toothbrush, probably. At least it won’t be lines with a blood quill, he thinks as he massages his hand absently.

“I have a message for you,” McGonagall says.

“Right,” Harry says, blinking at her. A message? He’s here for detention.

“Edward John Lupin-Black was born at five-thirty this morning. Professor Lupin is doing well, and your godfather is beside himself with happiness.”

“Oh.” Harry blinks, absorbing this. “Remus had the baby?”

“He did,” McGonagall says, and there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I’m sorry for the ruse, but serving you a detention seemed the best way to get this message to you. I was summoned to Headquarters for a meeting this afternoon, which is how I learned about the baby. Mr. Black also wanted me to convey to you that he’s looking forward to seeing you this summer, and that he loves you.”

***

June 1996

The kitchen door bursts open and Sirius hurries in, his wand in one hand. He has a crying bundle in the crook of his other arm, and for a moment all the thoughts flee Harry’s brain.

“Harry? What’s going on, what’s wrong?”

“Teddy?” Harry blurts.

Sirius holsters his wand and kneels before the fire, adjusting the baby in his arms. For a moment, the sight of Harry’s floating head distracts the baby, and he stops his wailing.

“Where are you Flooing from?”

“McGonagall’s office,” Harry says, jolted back to reality by the question. “Sirius, I thought--I saw--you were being tortured! Voldemort kidnapped you, and he was holding you somewhere, and--”

“Harry, breathe,” Sirius said. “It must have been another vision. I’m safe; we all are.”

“My other visions have been real,” Harry says--hesitantly, because he wants to believe this is Sirius in front of him. “Mr. Weasley did get attacked, and that old man really did die.”

“I know,” Sirius says, “but we already know that Voldemort can get into your mind, and that Snape never completed your Legilimancy lessons. That means that Voldemort can plant visions in your head, ones that aren’t real and never happened.”

“Sirius?” Remus comes into the kitchen, knuckling sleep out of his eyes. He freezes when he sees Harry’s head in the fire. “What’s going on? Harry, are you alright?”

Harry explains the night’s events as quickly as he can. He doesn’t know how much longer he has before he’s discovered.

“You should come through, Harry,” Remus says when he finishes. “If Voldemort is giving you visions at Hogwarts, you clearly aren’t safe there and there’s no point in you staying.”

“But what if this isn’t real?” Harry demands. “What if this is the vision?”

“Voldemort doesn’t know about Teddy,” Remus says. “Unless you think Professor McGonagall is a spy, then we’re the only ones who know about the baby. This can’t be a vision that Voldemort has planted in your head, because you know details he doesn’t. This is real, Harry.”

Remus has a point, and none of his visions have ever been this vivid. Harry ducks back into McGonagall’s office for another handful of Floo powder, and then steps fully into the fireplace.

“Hi,” Harry says, and he barely has the word out before Sirius engulfs him in a hug.

“Hi, Haz,” he says into Harry’s hair. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I’m sorry you were so worried.”

“It’s not your fault.” Harry pulls away. “Can I--”

“Of course.” Remus adjusts the bundle in his arms so Harry can see the baby. “Meet Teddy. Teddy, this is Harry. He’s going to be living here with us, too.”

“Hi, Teddy,” Harry whispers. He reaches out a hand, and when no one stops him, touches Teddy’s cheek. “I’m--”

“You brother,” Sirius says, laying a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “This is your brother, Teddy.”

#i will never get tired of knocked up remus #and harryyyyy <333 #other peoples writing

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atlasdoe · 3 days

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hi hello sorry i disappeared i have been infected with brain rot of a different variety but i am back with some knocked up remus (feat. a very anxious james) only a little late for the seed moon

James stumbles through the front door of their cottage, bleary eyed and exhausted. Practice had run late that day, on account of their grueling efforts to prepare for the World Cup; James can’t remember ever having trained like this before, and he still isn’t even sure if they’ll be ready, physically or mentally. Hell, he’s still not even sure if he wants to participate.

Remus’ due date is far too close to the scheduled end of the Cup for James’ liking; enough that James isn’t even sure he wants him attending any of the matches.

Of course, he’s sure that Remus will call him ridiculous if he voices that thought out loud, and that he’ll be at all of James’ matches, sitting with Sirius in his suite, supportive but disinterested, and uncomfortable but unwilling to miss even a minute that James is in the air.

“England’s chances of winning are slim, even with you there, so I’m not about to have you sit out on what might be a career defining moment for you,” Remus had told him, when James suggested maybe he should refuse a spot on the national team. “I also don’t need the whole country hating me because you decided you needed to sit home and rub my feet, so…”

“You barely even let me do this as is,” James said, while rubbing Remus’ rather swollen feet. “Which is rude, by the way.”

“So you’ve said, James.”

“I just want to pamper you, Moonbeam.”

“I know, James.”

Remus had convinced him, in the end, by pointing out that Harry would love attending the Cup. This was playing dirty, in James’ opinion, but that is, truthfully, the only way Remus plays.

James is obsessed with him. And his husband is correct, that much he can admit; James would hate having to miss sharing this experience with Harry.

Still, he worries. James thinks his worry might swallow him whole. While both Remus and Sirius have taken turns assuring him, time and again, that Remus will be fine, that the baby isn’t going to come a month early, and that Sirius will be looking after Remus and Harry the whole time, James can’t just…stop worrying. It’s who he is. He frets.

He’s in the process of wondering where, exactly, said husband might be, when he nearly falls and breaks his leg over a little bundle of fur scurrying around their foyer.

“Fucking—no, no, yikes, I mean yikes.” James tries so hard to keep his language child friendly, especially with the way Remus curses like a sailor, but he doesn’t always succeed. Especially not when he has nifflers trying to murder him in his own home.

“No! No, come here, you—” James just barely catches the thing by the scruff of its neck, and lifts it up in front of his face, squinting his eyes to try and read the name on its collar. “Which one are you? Kerouac? Or Cassady?”

James does not understand why Remus brought home a little of baby nifflers, and he understands even less the names he gave them, but Remus is pregnant with his child, and James wants him to be happy, which means their home has since been filled with any number of various creatures for the last few months, some of them dangerous and some of them just pure pests. He still isn’t sure which category the niffler falls into.

The little ball of fur tries to bite him. James has to resist the urge to march back outside and throw it into the forest.

“Okay, well, whoever you are, let’s get you back to your mummy and away from me,” he mutters, as he walks through the kitchen, on the path to their back garden, where James assumes he’ll find the little thing’s siblings.

He does, indeed, find a veritable nest of nifflers, but he also finds his husband and his son, sitting atop the grass; Harry is giggling, his face and glasses splattered with dirt, and Remus is showing him…something, some kind of creature, that’s curled up in the palm of his hand. There’s a small, easy smile on his husband’s face, despite the dark circles under his eyes and the way that James knows his knees must be protesting, the way he’s kneeling.

Okay, alright, yes. Remus can fill their home with as many creatures as he wants, forever, pregnant or not.

“Hello, my darlings,” James says, as he kneels between them, adding even more grass stains to his already impossibly dirty Quidditch uniform. “What’s this little beast we’ve got here?”

He hardly even has time to breath before Harry launches himself at him. The niffler escapes at this moment, and of course chooses to run back into the house, because why wouldn’t he?

“Daddy,” Harry says, seriously, “this is a grass snake. They live in the garden. Not just our garden, but all gardens.”

“Yes, because most gardens don’t have colonies of nifflers,” James says, and makes eye contact with Remus, teasing him just a little. “But I suppose they do have grass snakes, and that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Remus rolls his eyes, a bit of fondness glimmering there in the light. “I told you, the sanctuary will be here to pick them up within the week.” He lets the snake slither out of his hand and back into the grass. Then, he makes an effort to shuffle, on his knees, over to James and Harry, to close the small distance between them. He does not succeed.

James tries not to laugh. “Let me help you.” He lifts Harry up, places him atop his shoulders, and reaches out for Remus, lifting him up and to his feet.

“I would pretend to be offended that you didn’t ask,” Remus huffs, “but we both know I wasn’t going to be able to get up by myself.”

James grins, and leans in for a kiss. “I’m surprised you even got down there, Moons.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Remus says, and goes in for another kiss. “How was practice?”

“I’m beginning to think this whole Quidditch thing isn’t worth it.”

Remus snorts. “That bad, was it?”

James sighs. “I could sleep for days, if given the chance.”

Harry gently begins tugging on his curls. “You can’t. You promised we’d fly tonight, daddy.”

“I am going to be having words with Sirius about that broom,” he mutters. “Yes, love, sure we will. But maybe a nap first?”

“Some tea and a nap,” Remus says. He has one hand resting atop his jumper covered jump, and one cupping James’ cheek. “You go shower, get yourself sorted, and I’ll have it ready when you’re done.”

James frowns. “Remus—”

Remus rolls his eyes, again. “Prongs, I’m pregnant, not bedridden. Harry and I can manage to put the kettle on without you. We survived all morning by yourselves, didn’t we?”

James’ shoulders shake with the force of Harry’s nods. “We did! We fed all the creatures and took a walk out to the lake and then we saw the grass snake.”

“Oh, well, I spoke too soon,” James says, seriously, unable to quite hide his grin when Remus laughed at his antics.

“You did,” Remus agrees, just as seriously, and gestures for James to give Harry to him. He settles him on his hip, and they walk inside together, hand in hand. “Go on, go shower. When you get out I’ll tell you all about the kelpie we found in the lake.”

“Sorry, the what?”

#AH I LOVE THIS #KNOCKED UP REMUS #WORRYING JAMES #ADORABLE HARRY #THEIR HOUSE FULL OF NIFFLERS #MY DARLINGS #other peoples writing

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