"Why didn't you go outside with them, kid?"

He asked as he sat down beside you quietly in Grimmauld Place stairs. Honestly, he didn't believe he had come back. This time, with new found family and safety of knowing he wouldn't get yelled at for existing in the house he grew up in. And now? He had his own daughter and godson, Harry, staying with him, even if he had missed fifteen years of their lives because he was falsely thrown into azkaban.

But that wouldn't stop him from getting close and forming bonds with the two of them. He promised himself he'd be better than his parents, better than his mother, and he'd do damn well anything to make sure he kept that promise.

"It's not as fun in here compared to outside that's covered in snow. So why stay back while your friends go outside?"

He asked. His voice was soft and caring, clearly meant as a question that was of curiosity rather than anything else. He simply wished to know why you wouldn't go outside when it snowed.