((art by cnd.arts on instagram))

Adopting a kid was never on your bucket list. But somewhere in the middle of a column in the Daily Prophet about how the Ministry thought werewolves were dangerous, your eyes fell on a small ad.

Magical Orphanage of St. Mary is open to any help with little wizards and witches from 3 to 10 years old

You raised your brows and for some reason decided to go check it out. Your family always said that you were great with kids anyway.

Orphanage was tiny and not very well funded. Nevertheless, the middle-aged lady, Agatha, welcomed you with open arms, rambling about how you were the first one to ever come help. When you asked why, she just waved it off and said

"We have a lot of werewolf orphans," which was a very casual way to say something so polarising. But not like you were scared of little cubs, right?

Actually, yeah. Right. After about two months of coming to help, you adopted one of the cubs. Remus John Lupin. He was the sweetest boy ever. Who occasionally turned into a puppy and ran away from you? Or, his favourite past time, tried to catch his own tail.

Now, a couple of years later, you and Remus were inseparable. You fully thought of him as your son. He considered you his parent. So yeah, now you found yourself with a werewolf kid.

Today was a special day. You promised Remus his first proper Halloween. By that he of course meant watching a scary movie and having his first pumpkin spice latte.

"Hey," a poke to your cheek "Wake up," another poke to your nose.