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Regular Children


Remus sat on the steps of Newt Scamander’s workshop in his briefcase, watching Bradley, who was sitting on the ground colouring with wax crayons, scribbling out abstract-looking shapes in bright colours to represent the creatures that were roaming about inside the case. The Niffler stared from her nest, her bill twitching as she watched Remus carefully, interested in trying to snatch the Prefect’s pin stuck to his chest at her first opportunity, her claws clenching. Bradley was drawing a loopy occamy, a long blue figure eight with purple squiggles along the back. He’d already drawn several stick-figure versions of Newt Scamander and Tina that were recognizable by their squiggled hair… Remus was sifting through the pictures when he came across one with people he couldn’t tell who it was. He held it up, “Who’s this one, Bradley?”

Bradley looked up. “Mummy and Da,” he replied.

Remus looked over the picture again, “They look really nice.”

Bradley nodded. He paused in colouring, putting down the purple crayon, and looked up at Remus. “I don’t wanna talk about them.”

“That’s okay,” Remus said, “I understand. I don’t like talking about my mum and dad, either. It hurts to.”

Bradley asked, “Are your… are they… are they dead, too?”

Remus nodded. “They were killed by bad wizards.”

Bradley picked at the paper label on one of his crayons, ripping it off the little wax piece, and he said, “Mummy used to say wizards don’t a zist.”

“Don’t exist?” Remus hugged his knees, “Well. I mean, a lot of mug-- people… a lot of people don’t know we do.” He studied Bradley for a few minutes, “It’s sort of a secret.”

Bradley looked up at him, “Are werewolves ‘posed’ta be a secret, too?”

“Well. Most people don’t believe in them, I guess. Sort of the same as they don’t believe in wizards. Usually they’re kept a secret because --” he paused. “I dunno, some of… of them… us… can be scary.”

“Like a monster?” Bradley asked. He paused. “Am I a monster?”

Remus stopped talking. He stared at the little kid staring up at him with big round eyes and puffy little pink cheeks and he said the words he’d never heard when he was that small - hadn’t heard, really, until Sirius Black. “No, Bradley. You aren’t a monster.”

“Are you?”

Remus looked away, unable to answer. He could see the shadow of Dougal, the demiguise, moving about in the hollowed out tree a few feet away. Dougal was being invisible. Remus wished suddenly that he could be, too, and he understood James’s tactic of pulling the cloak over his head when he was upset and he made a mental note not to try to make him come out until he was ready to in the future.

Bradley finally got tired of waiting for an answer and he said, “My Da believed in werewolves.”

Remus asked, “Oh?” His voice came out funny.

“Yup. Them woods is fulla werewolves!” He said this last bit in a voice like he was imitating his father. “Mummy didn’t believe in them at first. But da did a whole bunch. Told lotsa people ‘round the village a’cos my da, he saw the werewolves! He saw them over the river and da told people they was coming to the woods and the village people thought he was funny. Mummy was a’scared’a the wolves after that. We had lotsa ‘tection on our house and they came anyway.” Bradley looked sad.

Remus realized then that Bradley was sort of the same sort of victim as he, Remus, was. A father who spoke out against werewolves, resulting in a child with a halfmoon bite and a future controlled by the lunar cycle. His throat caught.

Bradley rolled onto his knees and got up so he was standing in front of Remus. “I wish they didn’t zist, werewolves.”

“Me, too.”

“Then you wouldn’t a zist.”

“Neither would you,” Remus pointed out.

“Oh.” Bradley hadn’t thought of that. Clearly, he hadn’t fully starting thinking of himself as a werewolf yet. Remus wished that he could still make that separation, and part of him hated himself for having reminded Bradley of it. The poor kid deserved to keep the disconnect as long as his heart could hold onto it.

“It’s… it’s not so… so bad,” Remus lied. “I mean, you get all these cool… superpowers, like Superman. I can smell really good and there’s excellent vision at night… It’s just some people don’t understand werewolves. They forget we’re people most of the time, think we’re all mean, like our wolves are. But not all werewolves are mean.”

“Are you a mean werewolf?”

“Do I seem mean?”

“No but you’re a people right now,” Bradley replied.

Remus said, “Yeah, that’s true. Most werewolves are pretty mean when they change over.”

“I don’t remember if I’m mean,” Bradley said.

“Yeah,” Remus said gently, “It’s hard to remember sometimes, especially when you’re little… I don’t remember any of my transformations when I was your age.”

“How old were you your first time ever?” Bradley asked.

Remus held up three fingers.

“That’s littler than me.”

“Littler than you,” Remus nodded.

“And you’re all grown up now.”

“Dunno about all grown up… almost sixteen…. I s’pose that’s sort of grown up.”

Bradley sat down next to Remus. A large beetle waddled past, rolling a boulder with it’s front legs. “I’m glad you a zist, Mr. Remus.”

“I’m glad you exist too, Bradley.”

Bradley watched the beetle go and they sat in silence a few moments. Dougal had settled and the Niffler was slowly inching closer, poking her bill over the top of a rain-filled barrel that stood beside the stoop where the two boys sat, her claws inching along as she eyed that shiny P on Remus’s chest with lust. Finally Bradley’s little voice broke the silence: “I miss my mummy.”

Remus put his arm around Bradley and nodded, “I do too. She used to sing to me when I hurt on full moon nights. I’d have achey muscles and I’d be crying and she’d sit down in this old chair in the old bomb shelter behind our house where I changed, and she’d pat her lap and I’d crawl up and she’d hold me tight…”

Bradley hesitated, then wrapped his arms ‘round Remus’s torso, pressing his chin to Remus’s chest and looking up at him from the folds of the plush jumper he was wearing - one of the ones James’s mum had sent him. “Like this?” Bradley asked.

Remus put his arm’s ‘round the little guy and pulled him onto his lap, laughing and hugging him to him. “Sort of, yes,” he smiled, “And then she’d rock me sort of like this --” and he rocked Bradley, “And she’d sing real quiet…” Remus could still hear Hope’s voice in his mind… She used to sing Moon River, ever so softly, ever so gently...



“I like songs,” Bradley said.

“Yeah?” Remus asked thickly, the memory of Hope’s melody playing in the back of his mind, choking him up a bit. He’d give anything to hear her sing to him just once more...

“My mummy sang nursery rhymes,” Bradley said, “All the time.”

“Like what? Sing me one.”

So Bradley did: “Five little ducks, sitting on the water… five little ducks, doing what they oughtta… five little ducks sitting on the water, going - quack! quack! quack!” This last bit was accompanied by Bradley tucking his fists under his armpits and flapping his arms and Remus laughed.

“Oh-ho!” he said as Bradley jumped up and started playing at being a duck. “Oh well, now those are some fine duck impressions you can do.”

Bradley laughed and pretended to peck at the ground and the Niffler, who had climbed’ round the barrel and onto the window sill behind Remus and was hanging over the edge, nearly reaching Rey’s badge was suddenly disturbed - making her tumble down to the stoop - as Remus stood up and joined Bradley, quacking and laughing…

Four little ducks sitting on the water…” Bradley continued singing through his laughter as Remus quacked along.

Just around the corner from where they sat, Tina was leaning against the little workshop building, her eyes sopping, her balled fist against her teeth, breathing deeply, trying not to cry. Newt Scamander was just coming over a little bridge, where he’d been feeding some of his creatures, drawing a pocket watch from his vest and looking it over. “Nearly time, need to get them into the, uh, the control room…”

“Wait,” Tina said, grabbing his wrist to stop him going ‘round the corner altogether. “Look at them, Newt.” They both leaned to look around the corner of the little shack where the boys were laughing and playing. She looked up at him. “Let them be regular children for just a couple minutes more.”

Newt nodded, “Yes. Very well.” And he stepped back and slipped the pocket watch into his vest again and looked at Tina, whose smile made her round cheeks glow. He reached out a hand and brushed her hair back and stared at her a moment, just like he’d done so very, very long ago, on a boat dock in New York… His lips trembled into an awkward smile and she could see words in his eyes that he didn’t know how to say… The sparkle of his irises told her he wanted to say she was his favorite creature in the suitcase. And she felt pretty when he looked at her like that. She felt as pretty as Queenie probably did everyday. Tina flushed and she smiled back at him… and then he got shy and his eyes diverted - even after years and years of belonging together, Newt still managed to be shy of even her. His eyes ducked down and his cheeks flushed and he turned away. “But really, it’s getting late. To be safe…” and he ducked ‘round the corner of the little shed, headed to round up the wolves.

Tina sighed.




Sirius was bounding ahead of them, literally skipping across the grounds, whistling as he went. Peter hurried after him. It was James who pointed out a lifted root in the ground so that Lily would not trip… it was James who caught her when he missed pointing out a second one and she actually did trip. He laughed as she fell against him and said, “Oopsie daisey. Or Lily. Wrong flower.” He smiled so his crooked tooth showed and she blushed and laughed. It was while she laughed at his joke that he noticed the bracelet.

He stared at it in surprise. His eyes moved to look into hers.

“What?” she asked.

“Where’d you get that?” he was astounded. He thought it was still in his bag, honestly, like the other things from his venture to Lily’s room were.

“What? My bracelet?” Lily looked confused. “Jasper gave it to me.”

“What?” James looked rather stupidly at her a moment. “Jasper?”

“Yeah, Jasper. You know, my boyfriend?”

James stared at her in disbelief.

She drew out the note from her pocket to show him. “See, look here -” and she held up the note. “Signed J. Jasper.”

James said, “Signs things J, does he?”

“Well not usually, but --”

“OI ARE YOU TWO GONNA STAND ABOUT CHATTING ALL NIGHT OR ARE WE HAVING A BLEEDING ADVENTURE?!” Sirius shouted from the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack, his arms spread wide in annoyance. “LAST I CHECKED THE NIGHT DOESN’T LAST FOREVER! C’MON ALREADY!”

Lily laughed, “He’s not very patient, is he?”

James shook his head.

“C’mon,” she suggested, then, in the spirit of things, “I’ll race you over.”

“Alright,” he said.

They ran across the grounds and Sirius grinned as Evans pulled ahead of James and helped her down into the passageway as James jogged to a stop before him. “Let her win or were you bested by a girl?” Sirius asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Gonna tell you I let her whether I did or not, aren’t i?” James said.

Sirius smirked.

James caught Sirius’s wrist just before he went to jump into the passageway himself… “Sirius?”

“Yup?”

“The bracelet.”

“What?”

“I told you about the bracelet I got her?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s got it on.”

“Hey!” Sirius’s face split into a happy grin, “Good on you mate! You just give it to her? What’d she say?”

James shook his head, “She thinks it’s from Jasper.”

Jasper?” Sirius said in disdain, “Why the shagging shementor would she think that?”

“Because I’m an idiot who signs things J... Despite her boyfriend also starting with a blasted J.” James sacked his palm to his forehead.

“Prongs. You imbecile.” Sirius shook his head.

James looked at him helplessly.