Chapter Text
Sirius Black wasn’t sure which of his nosy neighbors left the bright pink flyer taped crookedly to his flat door, but he wasn’t surprised to see it there. The old ladies in his building were forever cooing over Harry and trying to play matchmaker for Sirius, begging to set him up with their granddaughters or that sweet girl from the coffee shop.
“A handsome young man like you, all alone with a baby?” they’d say, letting Harry babble at them and eyeing Sirius like he was the prized hog at a county fair.
Mrs. Smith had even made a Christian Mingle profile for him once, never mind the fact that Sirius was not Christian and had no desire to mingle.
“Look, you already have seven matches!” Mrs. Smith said, showing him her phone screen. The font was so big, he had to scroll for a full minute to see all seven women.
“How did you get a picture of me?” Sirius asked uneasily, eyeing the slightly grainy black and white profile photo of him holding Harry in their block of flats' front garden.
“Oh, I just combed through some surveillance footage from the CCTV!” Mrs. Smith answered cheerfully, ignoring Sirius’s horrified gasp. “I had Barney in security pull some for me on a day you looked particularly handsome.”
Sirius gaped at her, but she seemed unfazed and kept clicking through the profiles, trying to find her favorite.
“Mrs. Smith, I’m sure these women are very sweet, but I don’t want to date anyone right now. And besides, I—”
“But, Sirius, look at this lovely girl!” Mrs. Smith said, pointing to a dark-haired woman wearing Minnie Mouse scrubs and brandishing a huge yellow toothbrush in her hand like a trophy. “She says she’s studying to be a dental hygienist! You have so much in common!”
Sirius frowned, racking his brain to figure out what this could possibly mean. He taught history to 12-year-olds.
“How do we have so much in common?”
“Because you have lovely teeth.”
Oh, right. Of course. How silly of him.
So, no, Sirius was not surprised to see a flyer advertising “Single Parent Story Time!” taped to his front door when he returned from the market. He had a grocery bag tucked into the crook of each arm and tried awkwardly to grab the flyer, but Harry was faster, yanking it off the door in his chubby little fist from his spot strapped to Sirius’s chest in the baby carrier.
“No, no, don’t put that in your mouth, mate!” Sirius said, but it was too late. The edge of the flyer went straight into Harry’s drooling, toothless mouth. Sirius guessed which bag held the eggs and dropped the other one to the floor. He pulled the wet flyer—which now had a chunk missing—from Harry’s fist, then fished around in Harry’s mouth with one finger for the piece of paper that he’d bitten off. It was in soggy shreds, but at least he hadn’t swallowed it.
“Why would you eat paper, my guy?” Sirius asked Harry, as he dug in his jeans pocket for his keys.
Harry just garbled a laugh at him, blowing a cheerful spit bubble and pawing at Sirius’s face. Sirius opened the door, chucked the wet, ripped, crumpled flyer onto the entryway table, and promptly forgot about it while he tried to find the box of strawberry teething crackers in the grocery bag before Harry started searching for them himself.
It wasn’t until after he put Harry down for a nap later that afternoon that Sirius spotted the flyer again. It had floated to the floor at some point during the day, so he picked it up, smoothed it out, and read:
Join us for Single Parents’ Summer Storytime!
Godric’s Hollow Library Children’s Room
Thursdays, 10:00 am
Ages 1-3
Snacks and juice available
“Maybe you should go?” Marlene said on the phone later.
“Maybe I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a dull knife,” Sirius replied.
“Maybe you’ll meet someone,” Marlene countered.
“Maybe I don’t want to meet someone,” Sirius said. “And maybe you already know that.”
Of course she knew. Marlene was the one who had most heartily agreed with his therapist when she suggested that Sirius shouldn’t date anyone for at least a year while he adjusted to his new life as a dad.
It was an easy thing to agree to. Grief and exhaustion were the predominant feelings in Sirius’s life after first getting custody of Harry at just two months old. Now, 11 months had gone by, and although he had almost reached the one-year mark of his no-dating pledge, Sirius found that his interest in men was still absolutely nonexistent.
Sirius had never gone this long without dating someone—or at least fucking someone. Before James and Lily had died, Sirius was what one might call an “enthusiastic bachelor.” (“I’d just call you a slut,” Marlene said).
And so what if he was? He’d toed the aristocratic line for years, reluctantly going on dates throughout his late teens and early 20s with a string of “suitable” girls that his parents kept shoving at him, trying to marry him off. He brought each of these women to dinner, politely let them down over dessert, and quietly lived his life in the meantime.
But when Sirius opened the newspaper to read the news of his own engagement to Lady Sarah Chumley-Wolcott—a girl he’d last seen at the age of 9 when they were caught knee-deep in a muddy pond trying to catch frogs during a fox hunt, and who Sirius knew through the grapevine was dating a well-known lesbian glass blower from Liverpool—he’d finally had enough.
He told his parents—rather dramatically, he could admit now—that he would never marry a woman because “I absolutely adore being fucked by men, Mother!” before storming out of the parlor at Grimmauld Place and never looking back.
He’d more than made up for those years in the meantime, throwing himself headfirst into London nightlife and whoever’s bed, backseat, or toilet stall he fancied until 11 months ago when everything about his life seismically shifted in an instant.
Now, at 27 years old, Sirius had discovered that fatherhood and his newfound celibacy was starting to suit him. A handsome man eyeing him in the shops or on the street barely registered anymore. Sirius noticed them only distantly, if at all. And why would he notice them? He had Harry, Marlene, Netflix, and his hand. He didn’t need anyone or anything else.
But Marlene hadn’t finished harping about the single parent story time at the library just yet.
“Maybe I didn’t mean you’d meet a potential boyfriend,” she replied. “Maybe I just meant that you could find a friend who’s in the same boat as you are. None of our friends have kids, Padfoot. It might be nice to have someone to talk to about shitty diapers and puke and all that.”
She had a point there. Anytime Sirius talked to Marlene or Pete or any of their other friends about baby stuff, he watched their eyes start to glaze over within minutes. But he had to tell someone this stuff! He had questions! Why does Harry always spit out his peas? Was Harry’s runny nose because of teething or a cold? Why the fuck do gluten-free diapers exist? Who is eating diapers?
Instead, he’d taken to writing it all down in a notebook that decidedly did not talk back.
Maybe meeting other parents would be nice.
But then again? New people. Ugh.
“Maybe I’ll think about it,” Sirius conceded.
For three consecutive Thursday mornings, Sirius thought about it.
Thought about it and didn’t go. He just couldn’t muster the mental energy it would take to put on shoes and make small talk with strangers.
But then Harry caught a stomach bug, and Sirius spent five long, torturous days and nights changing sheets and mopping up sick and watching Bluey with a miserable, feverish baby laying on his chest. Harry had actually puked directly into the palm of Sirius’s hand while simultaneously shitting so explosively that it oozed up the back of his diaper and into his hair. Sirius didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he did both while hosing Harry down in the tub.
By the end of the week, Sirius was so tired of looking at the inside of his flat that he would have accepted an invitation to tea with his mother.
So, on the fourth Thursday, over his coffee and Harry’s dry Cheerios, Sirius broached the subject.
“Harry, I have something important to ask you. And don’t feel like you have to say yes just because you shit on my bare leg three days ago. What do you think of going to story time at the library today?”
“Ya,” Harry answered.
“I feel like you didn’t totally think this through, mate, so I’m going to give you another minute to change your mind.”
“Ya,” Harry repeated.
Sirius sighed.
“But what if the other parents are annoying?”
“Ba.”
“True. It could be really boring, though. Have you thought of that?”
“Goom.”
“You make a very good point.”
“Bye.”
“Well, it doesn’t start for another…” Sirius looked at the clock on the microwave. “Three hours.”
“Kitty.”
“Off topic, but OK.”
“Babababababa.”
“Fine, we’ll go.”
Two and a half hours later, Harry was strapped to Sirius’s chest, and the diaper bag was packed with enough supplies for three days in the wilderness. Sirius stepped off the lift into the lobby where Mrs. Smith was playing mahjong with Mrs. Bagshot and two other ladies from their garden club.
“Oh, Sirius!” Mrs. Bagshot said when she spotted him trying to hurry by unnoticed. “Are you finally going to story time, then?”
Well, there’s the flyer mystery solved, Sirius thought.
“That I am,” Sirius replied.
“Wonderful!” Mrs. Smith said. “Maybe there’ll be a pretty girl there who’s just been divorced. Or better yet, widowed! Ex-husbands can be a right pain in the arse, you know.”
Sirius looked at his watch as Mrs. Bagshot flicked Mrs. Smith across the wrist.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Hep?” Mrs. Bagshot scolded, adjusting her hearing aid as she practically screamed across the mahjong table. “Sirius is a homosexual!”
“Right, of course, I keep forgetting!” Mrs. Smith said, as Sirius looked around the crowded lobby with a tight smile and his cheeks burning. “Maybe you’ll meet a handsome man, then. I’ll pray the rosary for it!”
“Please don’t,” Sirius said weakly, as Harry blew a wet raspberry, spraying spit all over Sirius’s eyes.
“And if you don’t meet anyone at the library, my nephew is visiting today,” Mrs. Bagshot added while Sirius wiped his face with the back of his hand. “He likes the fellas, too!”
“Wonderful. Well, I’m sorry, but I really need to be going,” Sirius said, and rushed out the door, finally reaching the street with a relieved huff.
“Can you believe them?” Sirius asked Harry as they walked.
“Sha!” Harry replied.
The Godric’s Hollow Library children’s room was small and quiet, filled with low tables and chairs, building blocks, and secondhand toys. Beanbag chairs were scattered across the floor amongst the shelves, and posters on the wall implored kids to “Reach for the Stars!” and “Open a Book, Start an Adventure!”
Sirius’s eyes landed on a small knot of parents sitting in a loose half circle on a colorful carpet decorated with the alphabet in the far corner of the room. A librarian sat in front of them in a white rocking chair, while a gaggle of babies squirmed in their parent’s laps or crawled around on the floor.
“I guess this is the place,” Sirius whispered into Harry’s ear as they approached the group. He unstrapped Harry from the baby carrier, settled cross-legged onto an empty spot on the floor, and situated Harry in his lap. Sirius turned around to get a burp cloth out of the diaper bag—Harry was made of 95% drool these days—when a ragged cry tore from Harry’s throat.
Sirius whipped around at the anguished sound. Another baby had yanked Harry’s pacifier right out of his mouth, which was now agape and screaming. The other baby had a messy thatch of blonde curls, complete with a thick chunk of hair that looked crusted and stiff with dried applesauce. The baby stared into Harry’s face—beetroot red, tear-tracked, and wild—with a stunned expression, still clutching Harry's pacifier in his little fist.
But the other baby’s shock was apparently short lived. He looked away impassively and shoved Harry’s pacifier into his own mouth, prompting Harry to scream even louder.
“Teddy!” exclaimed a frazzled-looking man who must have been the blonde-haired baby’s father. He dove across the alphabet carpet at his son, snatched the pacifier away, wiped it hastily with a baby wipe, and shoved it back into Harry’s mouth. Sirius grimaced at the germs being passed between them, and hoped Harry wouldn’t give this kid whatever stomach demon had been living in his body for the past week.
“Here ya go, kiddo,” the man said to Harry before turning to Sirius.
“I’m so, so sorry,” the man continued, wiping a bead of sweat from the side of his temple with the sleeve of his faded Blondie t-shirt. He wore ripped black jeans and black and white Chuck Taylors and had his own messy curls, just like the baby. “I had no idea Teddy would be such a handsy little fucker at these story times, but he’s always grabbing… fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say fuck in the children’s room. Shit, I did it again, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”
Sirius bit his lip, trying not to laugh as the librarian shot them a stern look and began to read The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Harry had mercifully settled down and was now happily sucking his pacifier, leaning his little black head against Sirius’s chest as he listened to how the caterpillar ate one apple, two pears, three plums, four strawberries…
Sirius tried to listen, too, but found his attention quickly waning. Instead, he looked sideways at the other baby’s father, who was now silently wrestling a really big rock out of Teddy’s tightly clamped fist. Where the hell did this kid get a rock?
The man was getting a little pink in the face as they engaged in their silent struggle. He was absolutely not listening to the story, either, and…well, shit he was really, really fucking handsome. He was tall and lanky, with warm, golden skin, soft honey-brown curls, and tightly corded forearm muscles that stretched and flexed beautifully as he tried in vain to pry the rock out of Teddy’s hand. His skin glowed with a light sheen of sweat from the effort of wrangling his apparently feral baby, and Sirius imagined his old self wanting very much to find out what this gorgeous man tasted like.
The man looked up and caught Sirius’s eye. His face broke into a glowing grin, and Sirius’s stomach flipped pleasantly at the sight of it.
“Should I just let him chew the rock?” the beautiful, golden man whispered. “What’s the worst that’ll happen?”
“I don’t know,” Sirius whispered back. “Break a tooth?”
“He doesn’t have any teeth,” the man shrugged and looked at his son, who was, indeed, now gnawing on the side of the rock.
“I can’t believe I have the kid who chews rocks,” the man whispered, looking back at Sirius with a laugh that lit up his whole freckled face and made his eyes bright and crinkly.
Huh, Sirius thought, grinning back at the gorgeous man and his grabby, rock-chewing baby. Maybe single parent story time at the library wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Sirius leaned back onto his hands, half-listening to the story, half-watching the beautiful man, when he remembered his pledge. He had promised himself and his therapist no dating for at least a year. He still had a month left, and besides, he didn’t want to date anyhow, right?
Right.
Harry crawled off Sirius’s lap and started playing with the blocks on the floor, and Sirius shifted, looking sideways at the man anyhow, who now had one strong arm tightly clamped across Teddy’s heaving chest. Teddy looked very much as though he’d like to make a run for it, grabbing every pacifier and rock he could find along the way.
The librarian finished the first book, and Teddy farted, long, loud, and rumbling, like a miniature earthquake. His father shut his eyes and sighed while the other parents eyed them warily.
The librarian sang three songs, and Teddy joyfully shouted his own gibberish along with it, before spitting up something pink and curdled onto his bib. His father mopped it up with a clumsy fistful of baby wipes, which he placed in a messy pile on top of their diaper bag. One dark-haired mother made a disgusted face and whispered something to her friend, not bothering to conceal their stares.
Then, the librarian read Good Night, Gorilla, and Teddy started to finally make his escape. He crawled off his father’s lap and flopped himself straight across Sirius’s legs, where he rolled onto his side, burped, and gazed up at him with a wide, toothless grin.
“Hi,” Sirius laughed, looking back at him.
“Teddy!” his father hissed. He dove forward immediately, scooping Teddy away and accidentally dragging the back of his hand across Sirius’s crotch as he did.
Sirius jumped in—not unpleasant—surprise, and the man’s face went scarlet.
“Motherfucker. I did not mean to touch that,” he stammered while Sirius shook with laughter and the other parents glared at them.
“Remus, perhaps Teddy would be more comfortable outside in the playground today,” the librarian said pointedly.
“Yes, right. Sorry. He’s just a bit…barking today,” the man—Remus, apparently—agreed. He began to hastily pack up their things with one groping hand while holding a squirming Teddy under his arm like an American football.
“Here, let me,” Sirius offered, putting his arms out. Remus hesitated for a moment before gratefully handing Teddy off to Sirius. He packed up as quickly as he could, shoving everything, even the dirty baby wipes, back into the diaper bag without ceremony. The other parents wrinkled their noses at them.
“Thank you,” Remus said wearily, taking Teddy back from Sirius.
“No problem,” Sirius replied with what he hoped was a kind and encouraging smile.
“Sorry about that,” Remus grimaced again, looking around at the group as he stood up. He turned to leave, and the other parents gave each other smugly satisfied looks as he did.
Sirius watched Remus go as the librarian continued her reading. He hesitated for only a few seconds before scooping up Harry and his own diaper bag and rushing to follow him. Marlene was right. He could use a friend, and he certainly wouldn’t find one here amongst these judgmental bastards who couldn’t even laugh at a fart.
“Hey!” Sirius said, catching up with Remus in the car park a moment later. Remus turned around and grinned, which Sirius hated to admit, was doing things to him. He stopped walking as Sirius approached.
“Tough crowd, huh?” Sirius asked.
“Ugh, you have no idea,” Remus replied, adjusting Teddy on his hip and shooting one last resentful look at the library door. “I don’t know why I subject myself to this shit every single week.”
“Every week?” Sirius asked, astounded. He’d already decided this was his first and last story time.
“Yeah,” Remus grumbled. “None of my friends have kids, so I thought I might try to meet some other single parents. Shit lot of good that did me. They’re all arseholes.”
“Why do you keep going back?”
“I dunno. Nothing else to do, I guess?” Remus said, strapping Teddy into the baby carrier on his chest and sticking a pacifier into his mouth while Sirius did the same with Harry. “Summer hols. I’m a teacher. Usually my mum takes Teddy while I’m at work, but she and Da are off in Majorca until the end of August, so now it’s just me and the little bugger all summer long.”
“Oh! I’m a teacher, too, actually,” Sirius said.
“Really?” Remus asked, stunned. “What are the odds? What do you teach?”
“History to eighth years,” Sirius said. “What about you?”
“Maths,” Remus said, then laughed. It was a fun sound, bubbling and happy, and it effervesced across Sirius’s skin. “Everyone’s favorite! But I teach older kids. Twelfth years. I’m Remus, by the way. But you already got that from my public scolding.”
”I’m Sirius. Like the star.”
”Nice to meet you.”
Remus put out a hand for Sirius to shake. It was large and warm, with long, strong fingers and a firm grip that sent a satisfying little ripple up Sirius’s arm. A flicker of something crossed Remus’s face as they touched, but a moment later, it was gone.
“I can’t believe we got kicked out of story time!” Remus said to Teddy. “Again!”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m never going back,” Sirius said. “That was brutal.”
“It really was,” Remus laughed.
They started walking without really talking about where they were going, turning away from the library and heading in the direction of Sirius’s flat a few blocks away.
“So, who’s this guy?” Remus asked, putting out a finger for Harry to grab. Harry gave Remus a happy, gummy grin, and a little trickle of drool dribbled down his chin. Remus just laughed and wiped it away with the side of his hand like it was nothing as they walked side by side down the street away from the library.
“This is Harry,” Sirius said, putting a hand on the back of Harry’s head and leaning down to kiss him. “He’s my godson, but I adopted him last year after his parents died. My best friend and his wife.”
“Shit, really? That’s awful, Sirius. I’m so sorry,” Remus said, still holding Harry’s hand with one finger. He rubbed his thumb softly across the back of Harry’s hand, and it was such a sweet, easy gesture that it took Sirius by surprise. Marlene and Pete were great, but they barely touched Harry and regarded him like a bomb that was about to detonate whenever they were forced to hold him.
“Thank you,” Sirius said. “It’s been kind of a rough year.”
Sirius paused and looked over at Remus, who was listening with thoughtful attention and kind eyes as he gently held Harry’s hand in his own.
“More than kind of,” Sirius admitted. “It’s been a very rough year, actually. But Harry and I have each other, at least. I just wish the kid would fucking sleep.”
Sirius slapped a hand over his mouth and glanced guiltily down at Teddy, who was resting his chubby cheek against Remus’s chest and gazing sleepily up at Sirius as they walked. He blinked his eyes heavily and the pacifier started to droop out of his mouth.
“Sorry,” Sirius said, pushing Teddy’s pacifier back in before it fell out completely. “I’m still not quite used to having to censor myself.”
“Eh, no worries,” Remus said. “I’m surprised Teddy’s first words weren’t ‘motherfucking motherfucker.’”
Sirius laughed, and felt something unclench deep inside his chest.
“Anyway,” Remus continued, “you said Harry doesn’t sleep. Have you tried a white noise machine?”
“No. I don’t even know what that is.”
“Well, motherfucking motherfucker, I’m about to change your goddamn life.”
Sirius laughed again and felt his chest relax even more. What a relief—what an incredible, profound, intense relief—to talk to someone who really and truly understood the things he was experiencing. Not only that, but Remus seemed to be blundering through them just as much as he was.
They walked and talked for several more blocks. He learned that the dark-haired woman who was giving Remus dirty looks during story time had actually asked him out at the beginning of the summer.
“I told her I wasn’t interested, and she said it was just as well since Teddy seemed to have ‘behavioral issues,’” Remus said.
“Are you kidding?” Sirius said.
“Nope. Now I make sure to annoy the shit out of her every week,” Remus said. “Last Thursday, I gave Teddy a harmonica and a drum to play with the second she sat down. I thought she was going to burst a blood vessel. Makes getting kicked out kinda worth it, doesn’t it, buddy?”
Remus ruffled Teddy’s hair and kissed the top of his head.
Finally, they reached Sirius’s block of flats.
“Well, this is me,” Sirius said, pausing reluctantly outside the front door. This had been the weirdest, funniest—and, Sirius realized, most healing—morning he’d had in a very long time. He hesitated, wrestling with himself about whether he should ask Remus for his number. Getting Remus’s number made sense. Perfect, innocent, platonic sense. They both had babies the same age, they were both teachers, and neither had any other parent friends. He could simply get Remus’s number for friendship reasons. It didn’t have to be for dating purposes at all. And besides, he didn’t even know if Remus was interested in dating men.
They stood in silence for another few seconds, just looking at each other. Remus had beautiful eyes, Sirius noticed. Dark golden brown, like burnt honey, and fringed with long, dark lashes that kissed the apples of his freckled cheeks every time he blinked. His lips were full and almost pouty, and Sirius wondered what they’d feel like sliding down his neck or bitten between his teeth.
Actually, maybe he shouldn’t ask Remus for his number, Sirius thought. A man like him could get very distracting, very quickly. No, it was better to just walk away now. Remove any temptation. He’d find other parent friends somehow.
He was just about to tell Remus that it was very nice to meet him but he had to be going (before fleeing upstairs to put Harry down for a nap and rub one out) when Mrs. Bagshot crashed through the lobby doors onto the sidewalk, dragging a skinny, bespectacled young man behind her. He wore his hair slicked to the side, pleated khaki pants, and a long-sleeved, blue-and-white striped shirt buttoned all the way up his neck, despite the day’s heat.
“Sirius!” Mrs. Bagshot exclaimed. “This is my nephew I was telling you about. His name is Randall, isn’t he a peach?”
“The peachiest,” Sirius mumbled, giving Randall a weak smile.
“I showed Randall your picture a few weeks ago, and he said he hasn’t stopped thinking about you ever since!” Mrs. Bagshot said. “Isn’t that right Randall?”
“That’s right, Auntie Bat,” Randall said, pushing his glasses up his sweaty nose and giving Sirius a creepily eager grin. He had what looked like an entire leaf of spinach lodged right between his two front teeth. “I think you’re the handsomest bloke I’ve ever seen, and I’d be honored to take you to dinner tonight.”
“Tonight?” Sirius said, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. “I…I don’t know about tonight.”
“Pshh,” Mrs. Bagshot scoffed. “It’s Thursday. I know you don’t have plans.”
“Well, I—” Sirius started, but Mrs. Bagshot cut him off.
“On Thursdays, you order prawn vindaloo and put Harry to bed at 7:30,” she said. “Then you listen to the new episode of RedHanded while scrubbing the shower and toilet.”
“How…” Sirius stammered. “How do you…”
“So! I’ll watch Harry!” Mrs. Bagshot plowed on. “And you can go out with Randall! It’s perfect!”
“I don’t think I can—”
“Why not?” Mrs. Bagshot demanded, and Sirius felt dozens of eyes on him. The other old ladies in the lobby were watching through the open windows, pausing their mahjong and backgammon and bridge games to see how this drama played out. Even people passing in the street had paused to listen in. “I know you don’t have a date! You never have a date! And my nephew is right here and positively smitten! So, why don’t you just—"
“Actually, he does have a date.”
Everyone’s heads turned toward Remus, who stepped forward and slung an arm over Sirius’s shoulders. He wrapped a large hand around Sirius’s upper arm and pulled him close.
“With me.”