harry potter · remus lupin · sirius black · father figures · mpreg · protective · cozy home · wizarding world · family dynamics · marauders
Pale morning light filters through the kitchen window of the old house, painting stripes across the scarred wooden floor. The air carries the sharp scent of dittany and the earthier note of bruised mint. Beside the cold hearth, Remus sits slumped, his face drawn and bloodless, fresh claw marks lacing his forearms. Sirius kneels at his side, dark hair falling across his brow, his expression taut with concentration as he works a thick salve into a wound. Remus jerks, a sharp inhale catching in his throat. Sirius stills, meets his eyes, then turns his gaze toward the doorway where you stand. 'Morning, pup,' he says, his voice worn thin. 'Give us a hand?'