Work Text:
Remus really thought today was going to be the day, the first day, that he could enjoy his afternoon tea in peace. Afternoons, he's learned over the past few years, are rarely peaceful when raising a child. In fact, there is rarely a peaceful moment between the hours of 7 in the morning and 7 in the evening. That is unless Sirius has taken Harry out somewhere and that just doesn't really count.
This afternoon was all set up to be the perfect peaceful afternoon- Sirius reading the newspaper, Harry coloring quietly across the floor, and Remus blissfully sipping a cup of tea. The quintessential portrait of domestic bliss.
Or at least, it was.
"Harry is up to something," says Sirius furtively.
Remus, in the 17 years since he met Sirius, has developed an uncanny sense for when Sirius' whims were about to unleash an unstoppable can of worms. With that sixth sense blaring, Remus gently sets his tea on the kitchen table and kisses his peaceful afternoon goodbye.
"Why are you whispering? And why are you hiding behind a newspaper?" asks Remus.
"Remus!" yelps Sirius, tugging Remus down behind the newspaper with him.
Remus rolls his eyes. "Okay, okay, I'll play along."
"I think..." Sirius pauses and briefly looks over the top of the paper. "I think Harry is up to something." Sirius gestures toward Harry with a nod of his head.
Harry, just as he was moments ago when Remus' dream of a quiet afternoon was still alive and well, is sprawled across the sitting room floor, crayons and discarded pieces of crumpled up paper haphazardly scattered around him.
"He won't let me see what he's coloring," says Sirius. "He always lets me see what he's coloring."
Remus raises an eyebrow, unimpressed with Sirius' argument.
Sirius drops the newspaper in a huff and crosses his arms across his chest. "Moony," Sirius whines. "It's obvious! He's up to something."
"What do you want me to do about it?"
Sirius' eyebrows draw together and his mouth droops into a frown. He gestures incoherently with his hands. "I don't know," more gesturing. "Something."
Remus sighs- the kind that's long-suffering but yet still somehow fond.
"Harry?" says Remus.
Harry, diligent as ever, continues his ferocious coloring.
"Harry?" he tries again.
"Hmm?" mumbles Harry without looking up.
"What are you up to?"
This time, Harry does look up and upon seeing the faces of both Remus and Sirius peering down at him inquisitively, he heaves his chest atop the paper.
"Nothing!" he yells.
"Nothing?" says Remus.
Harry nods his head. "Nothing."
Remus turns back to Sirius, "happy now?"
"Doesn't sound like nothing," says Sirius.
"Hmm, well if you say so," Remus says, turning back to his afternoon tea. Maybe, just maybe, he can salvage his peaceful afternoon.
Sirius picks the newspaper up again but Remus knows he's only pretending to read it.
He gets a brief moment of peace before-
"But what if he is up to something," says Sirius dropping the newspaper just as quickly as he picked it up.
"He's seven," says Remus sighing and putting his tea down for the second time. "What could he get up to?"
Sirius scoffs. "What couldn't he get up to! He could be planning a massive prank war against us and we'd be none the wiser. Come on Moony, I know you can think more critically than that."
"We have almost thirty years of pranks between the two of us and you're worried about the plans of a seven-year-old?"
"Well, maybe it's not pranks. Maybe its something worse!"
"You're right," says Remus. "Harry is a notorious evil mastermind. Surely now he's plotting the demise of the universe and all written in purple crayon."
Sirius deflates, his lips dropping into a thin line. He leans back in his chair and sighs.
It slowly dawns on Remus that perhaps this was never about Harry's obviously evil plan to take over the entire universe.
"Sirius," says Remus.
Sirius looks at him with his saddest puppy dog eyes.
"So Harry is plotting against us?" Remus tries.
"Yes Remus, obviously our seven-year-old godson is plotting against us," Sirius says bitterly. "Our godson, who has never done anything worse than not pick up his toys is plotting against us."
"Right, okay then." Remus, though not for a lack of trying, still finds it tricky to help Sirius when he gets in one of these moods. James was always decidedly better at helping Sirius navigate his emotional minefield. Guilt slowly begins to creep into Remus' gut. "What's this really about?" Remus cringes. Not exactly his best bedside manner. He's never been one for tact and instead constantly oscillates between carefully suppressing anything remotely negative and occasionally blurting it out haphazardly. "I mean," Remus stammers.
"It's okay Moony," says Sirius. "I don't know," he pauses. "Harry's just never kept anything from me before. I don't know. Guess I didn't realize how old he's getting until now. He's seven today and tomorrow we'll be putting him on the Hogwarts Express and then what!" he says in a rush.
Without missing a beat Remus says, "guess we'll have to have another one then."
Sirius nearly chokes. "Another one?" he asks bewildered.
"Yes," says Remus deadpan. "Don't you think Harry would like a little brother or sister?"
Sirius' stares at him uncomprehendingly.
"What? If we don't start soon how will we ever compete with the Weasleys?"
"You're messing with me," says Sirius grinning.
"I don't know what you're talking about," says Remus. Despite his best efforts, his facade breaks and he can't help but crack a smile.
Sirius laughs.
"What?" he asks. "You don't think so?"
"I suppose you have a point," Sirius says. "Maybe Harry would like a brother or sister. It's obvious really."
"Oh?"
"Yes, clearly we have to adopt a puppy,"
Remus bursts out laughing.
"Right, right," says Remus. "Obviously."
Together they collapse into a fit of laughter, completely unaware that Harry abandoned his coloring to join them.
"Ah-hem," says Harry when he isn't immediately noticed. He pushes a carefully folded piece of paper onto the table; it gently swishes across the wooden table before landing. Remus and Sirius' giggles are cut off to instead peer down at the card laying between them.
Happy Dogfathers Day! is written in Harry’s neatest handwriting, the letters becoming progressively smaller as the scrawl grows closer to the edge of the paper. Three figures are illuminated beneath the yellow crayon sun; two dogs and a small boy- or rather a gray wolf, black dog, and a boy with glasses. Each figure is helpfully labeled underneath their feet: Moony, Padfoot, and Harry.
Sirius inhales sharply. "Oh," he says.
Harry teeters back and forth, rocking from his heels to his toes as Sirius and Remus momentarily shut down and reboot their systems.
Sirius sniffles once.
“What’s this Harry?” Remus asks when he’s found his voice again. It takes him a moment, but he gets there.
Harry stops rocking and looks between them both.
“It’s a dogfathers day card,” Harry says slowly. “Because you’re my dogfathers.” He adds when Remus and Sirius don't immediately reply. Remus is quite certain there is just a hint of ‘duh’ there too if he isn’t mistaken.
Sirius sniffles again.
“You're supposed to open it,” Harry says clearly exasperated that neither Remus nor Sirius have moved to open the card.
“Oh yes,” says Remus “of course.”
Remus elbows Sirius in the arm.
“Sirius,” says Remus, “Harry says we need to open it.”
Sirius looks away from the drawing on the card for the first time since it was placed before him. Remus shoots him a look that says get your shit together the seven-year-old is judging us and can only hope Sirius gets the message.
”Right,” says Sirius. He grips the paper in both hands and delicately opens the card so that both he and Remus can easily read the writing inside.
They're met with more of Harry's careful scrawl covering most of one side of card.
Thank you for always playing
with me
and for buying me sweets
sometimes.
You’re the best dogfathers ever
I love you
Harry
More drawings are on the other side of the card and include crayon images of Harry and Sirius riding on a broom and another of Remus reading Harry a book.
"Harry," says Remus without tearing his eyes from the card. "Pardon me but what is a dogfather?" Contrary to what Harry might imply, Remus isn't stupid. He knows the answer. But this is more than a bit overwhelming and they both clearly need to hear the explanation from Harry himself.
"You and Padfoot," Harry says simply. "You're my dogfathers. You know," Harry pauses. "Because sometimes you're both dogs and you're also like my dads."
"Right," says Remus turning to face Harry. "Sorry Harry, but can you remind me and Sirius what is dogfathers day?"
"Well," Harry begins. "I invented dogfathers day. Today is the first one."
"Oh," says Sirius.
"It's like fathers day but for dogfathers," he adds.
Sirius sniffles again.
"Do you like it?" asks Harry as he nervously starts rocking on his heels again.
The question is so utterly absurd that Remus is momentarily floored. He exchanges a look with Sirius and together they scoop Harry up in their arms, balancing him carefully between them at the table.
"Do we like it?" asks Remus.
"We love it!" says Sirius.
"This is perhaps the best dogfathers day of my life," says Remus.
"And this," says Sirius holding up the card, "is the best card anyone's ever given me."
"You are the best godson we ever could have asked for, Harry," says Remus.
"Oh absolutely," Sirius agrees.
Harry smiles and says, "good because you and Moony are the best dogfathers ever."
That evening, when dogfathers day has waned and Harry is tucked in bed, Remus carefully props the card upon the dresser in their bedroom. Perhaps a quiet afternoon is overrated after all.