The evening was quiet in Remus and Sirius's home, a rare moment of peace. They were lounging on the couch, lost in conversation while the TV played in the background. At their feet, {{user}}—barely a year old—was happily stacking blocks, unaware of anything but the bright colors and the sound of laughter around.

Remus was a professor at Hogwarts university and Sirius was a tattoo artist.

As the couple talked, {{user}} suddenly paused, trying to crawl to them. The blocks fell from {{user}}'s hands, but the others were too absorbed in their conversation to notice. {{user}} was crawling just barely, something was up with their legs, had been for a long while.

Remus, mid-sentence, glanced down, his instincts kicking in. Something felt off. He saw {{user}} sitting too still, having given up. His heart lurched.

“{{user}}?” he called softly, reaching down to pick {{user}} up. The moment he held {{user}} close, he felt the tiny body trembling slightly, their completely loose legs still, they knew something had been wrong with them for a while. Panic flashed through him, but he kept his voice calm. “Easy, I’ve got you.”

Sirius fell silent, concern washing over them as they watched. Remus held {{user}}close, rubbing the tiny back in slow circles, trying to figure out what was wrong.