❞ 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐫
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Margaret 'Maggie' Potter, unlike her older brother and every single girl in school, despises the cocky, self-absorbed Sirius Black.
Sirius Black himself has never been very fond of t...
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REMUS arriving at Potter's Estate was like waking up from a really bad nightmare. Somehow, after weeks buried in grieving darkness, the flowers Margaret watered seemed brighter, the smell around the house sweeter, and everyone's mood lighter.
This new found harmony, however, gave place to deep reflection.
On a particularly cold night, Sirius watched as Remus rocked Harry to sleep, the nursery lighten by a small orangish light that emerged from a floor lamp. Remus Lupin took care of Harry with tenderness and love, he moved slowly yet decisively, and something glinted from his eyes whenever he whispered at the child. Remus had been more than great with Harry, and compared to Margaret and Sirius, he was a natural.
It was difficult for Sirius to watch the werewolf with Harry and not feel immediately guilty.
"How do you do it?" He asked looking as his friend tuck the sleeping baby to bed.
Remus turned around slowly, his face soft, "do what?"
"That. No one would have a doubt in their mind that you're the perfect father figure." Sirius tried to hide the jealousy that rang through his voice, "you've always been. At least from us four." The last part was barely a whisper, the break in his voice confirming the pain.
The brunette boy sat on the rocking chair next to Sirius' loveseat, he stared into the brown of Black's eyes until the latter one finally broke away. "Sirius, there's no such thing as the perfect father figure."
Sirius let out a dry laugh, "try telling Margaret that."
The girl was fast asleep in the room at the end of the corridor, it seemed that after Remus' arrival, fatigue had finally caught up with her. It had surprised the werewolf to see his friends in such a state. Him being a werewolf, he was used to weariness, the energy drained from the body, but he would have never imagined the same jaded feeling that took over the other wizards' figures.
Margaret Potter had always been so perfectly put. No amount of stress or chaos could ruin the delicate way her hair was styled or her clothes were fixed. She never let anything shake her down to her feet. She simply held her head high and kept on with her life. At least that's how she used to be.
"What's going on with her?" Remus finally dared to ask. Sirius' head turned so quickly to meet Lupin's gaze, that the werewolf was sure that if his friend had been in his ananimagus form, the black dog's ears would have rose upwards.
"Grief, stress. What more?" The black-haired wizard couldn't begin to understand why his friend was asking him that. Wasn't it obvious? Weren't they all feeling the same?
