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𝕽emus finally raised his head, addressing the pacing boy in his childhood room

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𝕽emus finally raised his head, addressing the pacing boy in his childhood room.

"Prongs, what the bloody hell are you pacing for?"

A heavy sigh escaped James, stilling and running his hands through his unruly hair when he looks to his friend nervously. Sirius snorted from his spot in front of the mirror, eyeliner trained in his left hand to darken his eyelids for the occasion.

Regulus lifted his head from his book, studying his husband's disheveled appearance, drifting his eyes to Remus, "Don't be insensitive, Lupin...The role of the best man always gets a man's pants in a twist"

A pale faced Peter barked out a laugh, reaching over to high five the tousled haired boy, James puffing his chest out proudly nevertheless, claiming with an emphasised low voice, "That's right, i'm a man!"

"My best man!" Sirius cheered, the broadest grin stretched across his lips Remus has seen in a long time. He's been waiting for this, and Sirius wasn't the most patient when it came to what he wanted. Perhaps that's the oddity of how his and Willow's friendship came to be, opposites attract, they say. Though, when he hears Willow's voice whisper 'everyone's different' in his mind, he couldn't help but agree silently. 

His focus is returned to his daughter laying on the mattress between his legs when her face twisted and she sneezed. It had surprised him how easily he was able to spot the subtle changes of her in just a few weeks. When Mia had told him the newborn stage goes by in a blink, he hadn't believed her then. He understood now. Time. Too much, too little, still always there at the end of the day.

He's busily distracted when James begins tearing apart his old bedroom for his speech in a mad panic, Maple managing to enclose her hand around his finger tightly, blinking up with mirrored eyes towards her dad when he mutters absently,

"Third drawer on your left, under the orange socks, Prongs"

The four boys' heads whirled towards the werewolf with gaping mouths, eyes darting between him and his daughter in disbelief. No, he couldn't have. He couldn't.

Slowly, James opened the said drawer, digging under the pair of orange socks and indeed finding his speech there. A wailed noise wavered from his throat, lifting it for the others to see, Remus finally eyeing them with confusion consorted into his expression, wondering why they were all staring silently until James yelled accusingly,

"Moony's Mystic Makutu. Or shall we say Maple-leaf's Mystic Makutu?!"

Peter doesn't hold back the fear in his expression, one all knowing being was enough, but two? They'd certainly have their work cut out for them. Regulus merely rolls his eyes from both his husband's and brother's expression, lowering himself back into the world of Little Women when Remus snorts, remarking,

"Oh please, not even half an hour ago you announced you were putting it there. Apparently you would 'remember' because you 'like orange'"

James' mouth is stricken to an oval, the recollection of the event pinging in his mind, gesturing towards Remus in agreement. He does like the colour orange but clearly it isn't as memorable when it comes to hiding things. Sirius swats him around the back of the head with a tut, strolling over towards the bed, calling cooingly,

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