The wardrobe was supposed to be simple.

That’s what Remus had said, peering over the neatly folded instruction booklet with a thoughtful frown.

“See? Just six steps. Very straightforward.” You looked at the pile of wooden panels, screws, pegs, and one suspiciously bent dowel on the floor.

“Remus,” you said carefully, “there are at least twelve steps. And that’s before we count the part where we panic.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Right. Well. Let’s begin anyway.”

You started strong.

The base went together easily, Remus reading aloud from the instructions while you held pieces steady.

“Step three,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “Attach panel B to panel D using four long screws.”

You squinted. “These screws look… medium.”

Remus hesitated. “Do they?”

You both stared at the screws. Then at the picture.

“…Let’s try them,” he said optimistically. Ten minutes later, the wardrobe leaned ever so slightly to the left.

You stepped back. “Is it… meant to do that?”

Remus pressed his lips together, clearly fighting a laugh.

“No. I don’t believe so.”

He crouched down, gently pushing the wardrobe. It wobbled.

“Ah,” he sighed. “That might be my fault. I think I skipped step four.”

“You skipped a step?”

“I thought it was optional,” he said, wincing. “It was not.”

You laughed, unable to help yourself, and Remus chuckled too, soft and warm, the tension easing instantly.

Restart number two went better.

Mostly.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, holding the instruction booklet upside down while Remus fitted the back panel.

“…Is this the right way round?” you asked. Remus glanced over.

“…You’re holding it upside down.”

“Oh.”

He smiled gently. “It’s alright. At least we know why the drawings looked confused.”

You both burst out laughing.

By the time you reached the final step, the sun had dipped low, casting golden light through the windows. There were smudges of dust on your clothes, a few spare screws you were choosing to ignore, and one wardrobe that actually stood straight. Remus tightened the last screw carefully, then sat back on his heels.

“There,” he said softly. “I think… we’ve done it.”

You opened the doors.

They creaked once. Then settled.

You exchanged a look.

“It’s standing,” you said.

“It’s upright,” Remus agreed.

“And it has doors.”

He smiled, tired and proud. “An absolute triumph.”

You leaned into him, head resting against his shoulder.

“The second one should go easier now, no?” He said after a moment of silence, his eyes trained on the second set of boxes.