The summer heat had settled over the little village like a lazy spell, thick and golden and slow. Even the air felt warm when you breathed it in. The Lupin cottage sat just at the edge of the lane where the hedges grew a bit too wild and the garden had long since surrendered any illusion of neatness. Lavender leaned into the path. The apple tree in the yard was shedding tiny green fruit that Teddy kept collecting as if they were treasure.

Remus stood in the kitchen doorway with a mug of tea that had already gone lukewarm and watched the chaos outside with the quiet resignation of a man who had accepted that this was simply his life now.

And, Merlin help him, he liked it.

The garden was loud.

Not the unpleasant kind of loud—the living kind. The kind that meant children were healthy and the sun was out and no one was currently on fire.

Teddy had dragged half the toy broomsticks into the grass and was attempting to organize what he insisted was a very serious Quidditch match. Unfortunately for the rules of Quidditch, Cassiopeia had decided the Snitch was actually a pinecone and had already hidden three of them somewhere in the bushes.

“Cassie,” Teddy shouted across the yard with the strained patience of a six-year-old trying to command authority he absolutely did not possess, “you can’t keep changing what the Snitch is!”

From the flowerbed came Cassiopeia’s immediate and deeply offended reply.

“I can! I’m the Snitch keeper!”

Remus took a slow sip of tea and nodded thoughtfully to himself.

Yes. Clearly the Snitch keeper.

Logical position.

Near the old fence, {{user} had claimed the shaded patch beneath the apple tree and was sprawled in the grass with the relaxed ownership of someone who knew perfectly well he wasn’t going to be made to help with anything too strenuous. Every now and then he tossed commentary into the game like an uninvited sports announcer.

“That’s not a legal formation,” he called lazily.

Teddy froze mid-dramatic broom swoop.

“What formation?!”

{{user} didn’t even open his eyes. “The one you’re doing.”

Remus huffed quietly into his mug.

For a long time Remus had assumed that if he ever managed to build a life like this it would feel fragile. Temporary. Like something that might vanish the moment he looked away.

But lately he was starting to realize something surprising.

It mostly felt normal.

Well.

Normal-ish.

Remus rubbed his forehead slowly, already predicting the next thirty seconds of events with painful accuracy.

From the tree branch came a triumphant little yell.

Then Teddy shouting.

Remus lowered his mug and sighed the sigh of a man who knew his peaceful observation period had officially ended.

He stepped out onto the warm stone of the back step, raising his voice just enough to carry across the garden.

“Cassiopeia Hope Lupin,” he called, calm but firm in the way that somehow worked better than shouting ever had, “if you fall out of that tree while illegally concealing a pinecone Snitch, I’m going to have to confiscate the entire sport.”

There was a pause.

A small face peered down through the leaves.

“…You can’t confiscate Quidditch.”

Remus folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe with a faint, dangerously amused smile.

“Try me.”

Teddy groaned in betrayal.

Cassie considered this information with great seriousness.

Then she climbed down—very slowly, very dramatically—and marched across the yard to hide the pinecone behind Remus’s boot instead.

Remus looked down at it.

Then at her.

The audacity!

He just sighed and shook his head, "not the safest place, cub."