𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒-ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 ℙ𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣❥

𝐇𝐁𝐏 𝟏

Remus had hoped that having Hermione stay for a few nights would help Emily—that her gentle presence, her laughter, might coax some light back into his daughter's eyes. He'd thought that maybe being surrounded by someone her own age, by the comfort of friendship, would remind her she wasn't alone in the world.

And for a while, it seemed to work.

He caught glimpses of the old Emily again—small smiles, brief laughter, the faint spark of the warmth she'd once carried so easily. But beneath it all, he could sense it: the hollow note in her voice, the forced curve of her lips.

It wasn't healing. It was hiding.

She wasn't happy—she was distracted. Pretending. Clinging to anything that let her push her grief aside, even for a little while.

And when the distractions faded, the silence returned heavier than before.

That was how he found her now.

She sat on the edge of her bed, the dim moonlight washing her face in silver. Her shoulders trembled with quiet sobs she couldn't contain. Tears tracked silently down her cheeks, glinting against skin gone pale and fragile.

Remus stood for a moment in the doorway, his heart twisting painfully at the sight. Then he crossed the room and knelt before her, lowering himself until he was level with her bowed head. His chest tightened as he looked at her—his strong, brave, beautiful little girl—now shaking like something broken.

He reached for her hands. They were cold and trembling violently.

"Baby," he murmured, his voice breaking. "You have to talk to me. Please."

At first she didn't seem to hear him. Her eyes were distant, glassy; her fingers twitched restlessly in his grasp. Then, in a voice so soft it was nearly swallowed by the silence, she whispered—

"Voices."

Remus's breath caught. "Voices?" he echoed gently.

"They've gotten worse," she said, her body trembling harder now. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to his, and what he saw there nearly shattered him—pure, raw terror mixed with exhaustion. "They won't stop. Make them stop. Please."

Without a moment's hesitation, Remus moved to her side, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. "I've got you, baby," he whispered, his tone low and steady, though his heart felt like it might split in two. "I'm here. I promise. But you have to talk to me. You can't keep carrying this alone."

Emily sucked in a shaky breath, her fingers curling into his shirt, clutching it as though it were the only thing anchoring her to the world. Then, in a barely-there whisper, she said—

"Some of them are his."

Remus froze. The words rooted him to the spot.

"Dad's voices," she continued, her tears falling faster now. "Blaming me. Shouting at me."

For a moment, everything inside him stopped.

His mind filled with Sirius's face—Sirius laughing, Sirius holding Emily when she was small, Sirius's last look before the veil swallowed him whole. The idea that she could hear his voice now, twisted by grief into something cruel, something accusing— it was unbearable.

He wanted to tell her that Sirius would never blame her. That her father's love for her had been fierce, unshakable, unconditional. That he would have crossed death itself to protect her from this kind of pain. But Remus couldn't speak.

Because if he tried, he would break. And he couldn't—not when she needed him to hold her together.

So he just held her tighter, pressing his face into her hair as she cried, his own tears silent but unstoppable. He kissed the top of her head, rocking her gently, whispering words he could barely form.

He needed her to know.

That she was loved.
That she wasn't alone.
That even in the darkness, he would always find her.

When he finally spoke, his voice was rough but firm.

"We're going to the Burrow tomorrow."

He felt her body tense in his arms, but he went on, steady and gentle. "I know you don't want to. I understand. But I think it's best for you to be around your friends. And Ethan needs the twins. Eric just needs company."

Emily stayed quiet for a long time, her breathing ragged, her fingers still gripping his shirt as though afraid to let go.

Then at last, she whispered, "Yeah." A shaky exhale followed. "Yeah, I'll go."

Remus closed his eyes, his hand still moving through her hair in slow, soothing strokes. Outside, the night pressed close around the house, but in that small, fragile moment, he held her as though he could keep the darkness from finding her again.