Disclaimer: I own an immense love for the Lupins, slightly above average writing skill, an addiction to tea and a fez.
I do not own Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Andromeda Tonks, some chocolate chip cookies or a copy of The Tales of Beetle the Bard.
Waiting wasn't usually a problem for Remus Lupin. He was a patient man; he had many years experience forcing himself to be calm. Experience that had been thrown out the window as he paced the length of Andromeda's living room and back again. Dora would be in labor any moment now and Remus had stepped out of the bedroom to give them both a chance to breathe—not that much breathing was happening on Remus's part.
"Calm down, Remus, everything's going to be fine." Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting on the couch, watching him, and Remus paused his pacing to look at him doubtfully. Sure, Dora and the baby were announced healthy by every healer they saw; sure, she was in a comfortable room with her mother and an experienced childbirth healer; sure, the delivery would probably happen smoothly; that's not what worried Remus. No, what had kept him up at night these past nine months was whom the child would most take after. He hoped to Merlin it wouldn't be him.
"Remus! You probably want to get in here!" Andromeda's voice carried down from the bedroom and Remus's stomach twisted in a knot. He glanced, nervously, at Kingsley for half a second before racing upstairs, Kingsley trailing behind.
"REMUS!" Dora shouted when she saw him and he immediately rushed to her side, taking her hand. Andromeda was wiping the sweat of her brow and the healer was … well Remus had no idea what she was doing; his eyes were glued to Dora's.
"I'm here," he told her, squeezing her hand comfortingly. She responded by squeezing back significantly tighter as she let out a painful moan.
"Here we go," the healer murmured.
The next half an hour or so passed in a blur of sweat, screams and instructions to "push". Remus could do nothing but sit there, occasionally reassuring Dora while she made pulp out of his hand and screamed abuse at him. And still, the anxious knot in the pit of his stomach grew tighter and tighter, until suddenly, a new sound filled the room. A baby was crying. Dora was breathing steadily again and the healer was wrapping something in a blanket and he could have sworn someone said, "it's a boy", then the healer handed Dora the bundle and …
Oh.
There was a person in Dora's arms. A tiny little person with Dora's nose and Remus's eyes and a tuft of fluffy black hair. It didn't matter just how much he took after his father, he would worry about that later. Because he did this. They did this. And for one moment—one perfect, shiny moment, sitting there with his wife and newborn son—Remus was the happiest he'd been in his entire life.
"Ted," Dora whispered. Remus glanced at his wife, then down at his son again.
"Ted," he agreed, then lent over to kiss his wife.