[Since losing Dora, Remus hasn't given much thought to romance. He'd been offered a professorial position at an American university and the thought of taking Teddy and starting over had been too tempting a prospect to refuse. He'd lost too much, in the UK, there were too many painful reminders.
Teddy had adapted quickly. He was still young, after all, only in pre-school. He took after his mother in demeanor, bright and cheerful, and Remus was more than happy to allow him his self-expression. If he wanted to wear a bright pink- and blue-striped tutu with his Superman shirt and rainbow-polka-dot ribbons in his hair, Remus would set straight anyone thinking he needed "correction" on what was appropriate for little boys to wear. Of course, that accommodation meant he had to be a little more selective about where to enroll him, but Teddy's security and happiness was more important than anything, and the university had a surprisingly robust allowance for childcare options.
Teddy's best friend at pre-school, at least as best as Remus could guess from his often nonsensical ramblings, was a little girl he called "Nimmy". He'd usually see the two of them playing when he went to pick up Teddy, but he'd never seen either of her parents at pick-up or drop-off.
He's in the middle of a lecture when he gets the call, and this daycare only calls if it's necessary, which is the only reason he answers. His students are all too happy to be out of class a half-hour early, he quickly emails the rest of his classes to inform them there'd be a cancellation and asks one of the other professors to put up signs about it for those unfortunate enough to not check their emails, and he's flying out the door.
There'd been a bloody bomb threat. Who sends a bomb threat to a daycare? Remus is equal parts fuming and terrified the entire drive. It was just a precaution, they'd said, they didn't expect it to actually turn up anything, but they were legally required to clear the building and send the children home.
Some of the kids are crying when he arrives, either having sensed the tension in their teachers or just upset that their usual routine had been broken. Teddy seemed fine, though, sat on the ground with Nimmy, chattering and making mud cakes. One of the teachers explained that the bomb squad needed to give them the clear before anyone could go back in to pick up their children's daybags, and to please remain calm and patient.
Remus sighed and crouched down by Teddy and his friend, kissing the top of the boy's head and taking a strange sort of pride in how unruffled his child was by the situation.]
"We made pies!" [Teddy states proudly, holding up a handful of vaguely shaped mud. Remus chuckles.]
Oh, is that for me?
"No, Papa! Don't eat!" [Well, at least he understands it's just pretend pie.]
modern non-magical, so either of the first two job options
Teddy had adapted quickly. He was still young, after all, only in pre-school. He took after his mother in demeanor, bright and cheerful, and Remus was more than happy to allow him his self-expression. If he wanted to wear a bright pink- and blue-striped tutu with his Superman shirt and rainbow-polka-dot ribbons in his hair, Remus would set straight anyone thinking he needed "correction" on what was appropriate for little boys to wear. Of course, that accommodation meant he had to be a little more selective about where to enroll him, but Teddy's security and happiness was more important than anything, and the university had a surprisingly robust allowance for childcare options.
Teddy's best friend at pre-school, at least as best as Remus could guess from his often nonsensical ramblings, was a little girl he called "Nimmy". He'd usually see the two of them playing when he went to pick up Teddy, but he'd never seen either of her parents at pick-up or drop-off.
He's in the middle of a lecture when he gets the call, and this daycare only calls if it's necessary, which is the only reason he answers. His students are all too happy to be out of class a half-hour early, he quickly emails the rest of his classes to inform them there'd be a cancellation and asks one of the other professors to put up signs about it for those unfortunate enough to not check their emails, and he's flying out the door.
There'd been a bloody bomb threat. Who sends a bomb threat to a daycare? Remus is equal parts fuming and terrified the entire drive. It was just a precaution, they'd said, they didn't expect it to actually turn up anything, but they were legally required to clear the building and send the children home.
Some of the kids are crying when he arrives, either having sensed the tension in their teachers or just upset that their usual routine had been broken. Teddy seemed fine, though, sat on the ground with Nimmy, chattering and making mud cakes. One of the teachers explained that the bomb squad needed to give them the clear before anyone could go back in to pick up their children's daybags, and to please remain calm and patient.
Remus sighed and crouched down by Teddy and his friend, kissing the top of the boy's head and taking a strange sort of pride in how unruffled his child was by the situation.]
"We made pies!" [Teddy states proudly, holding up a handful of vaguely shaped mud. Remus chuckles.]
Oh, is that for me?
"No, Papa! Don't eat!" [Well, at least he understands it's just pretend pie.]