Author's note: Thanks for supporting my emotional support story. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the canon, world, and characters portrayed below and you can tell I'm not J.K. Rowling because #transrights

Content Warnings: NA

No Need For A Babysitter

Victoire rolled her eyes and grinned at the same time when she saw that it was Remus at her doorstep, since she hadn't been able to ever hold back a smile even as a little girl.

"Did Teddy send me a babysitter?" she asked, resting one hand on her protruding belly. "Because I very specifically told him not to do that."

"Not at all," Remus promised. "I haven't been your babysitter in years."

Because technically, Teddy hadn't told Remus to go check on Victoire during his 24 hour shift so much as panicked about the prospect of his nine-month pregnant (…partner? Best friend? Roommate? Whatever she was to him...) being home alone while he manned the emergency room at St. Mungo's. So, Remus had sent himself so that his son had a snowball's chance in hell of focusing at work, which may count as community service to the Wizarding World after all.

"I was heading over to Diagon Alley, and I remembered that you sometimes took walks at this time. I thought you might appreciate some company," Remus offered politely.

Victoire paused and chewed on her lip as she examined Remus with those startlingly bright crystal blue eyes. He'd seen that look on her face ever since she was a little girl, when he would tell her something and she'd try and decide if he was kidding about the sky being blue because it was her favourite colour or licorice just being the roots of a candy tree that grew in Canada.

"I'm pretty sure you're here to babysit me," she determined. "But also, I've been very socially starved since my maternity leave started, so I'm going to let this happen."

Remus smiled.

"You've been home from the hospital for a week, Victoire," he pointed out.

"Exactly," she said. "Socially. Starved. Let me go get my bag and get some shoes on, I'll be right out…"

"Do you need a hand?" Remus asked.

"I can still reach my feet!" she protested.

"Can you?"

"No, but there are spells for that," Victoire huffed. Then she winked at him and closed the door for a moment, coming back with sunglasses over her eyes, a clutch swung over her shoulder, and sandals on her feet. She locked the door and he offered a hand as they made their way down the five steps that lead up to the house she and Teddy had been renting ever since they'd started working at St. Mungo's.

The sun was beating down on London that day, but Victoire looked perfectly at ease—having grown up running up and down a sandy beach and all. Her hair fell in beach waves year round and the flowery dress she was wearing twirled around her knees as she walked.

She asked him questions about how this school year at Hogwarts had been, since he'd just come home for the summer a week ago, and he asked her questions about the pile of books he'd lent her to try and reign in her boredom. Both of her grandmothers had been trying to teach her how to knit to try and get her to sit still without withering, but Victoire was disastrously bad at it, so they laughed about that as they walked around the block. Victoire guided them to a bench in the park and so Remus followed, and they sat by a playground and watched a gaggle of children running in circles around the playground. A two-year-old face-planted in the sand and immediately started screaming bloody murder until his mother picked him up and plopped him back on his feet, rubbing sand off his knees and rubbing his back, and Victoire twitched as if to get up.

"These damn hormones, I swear…" she said, resting a hand on her chest and shaking her head at herself. "It's like every child in the world is mine."

Remus smiled.

"You were always like that, even with all the Weasley-Potter cousins at the Burrow and things like that," Remus said. "At first I thought it was why you'd become such a wonderful Healer, but now I think it simply means that you'll be wonderful with your baby. That's all."

"We better hope so," Victoire said, making a wildly expressive face that made Remus laugh.

"I don't think there's much hoping to do, you'll be fine," Remus promised. "Trust me, I was nowhere near as equipped as you are and Teddy, dare I say it, turned out alright."

"Yeah, he's okay," Victoire said with a smile teasing her lips. Then the smile dropped and she shook her head again in dismay. "I can't believe she's due in a week…"

"She?" Remus asked, surprised.

"We don't know for sure but I think so," Victoire said. "I'm only a quarter Veela but we tend to have daughters. That's why nobody was really surprised when my sister transitioned."

"I see," Remus nodded. "I didn't know that about Veelas. Is there a betting pool I can use this insider knowledge on?"

"Talk to my mother," Victoire said, kicking off her sandals. "Considering how ready she was to kick my ass seven months ago, someone's very excited to become a Mamie."

"She'll be an absolute marshmallow," Remus said, shaking his head. "So will Dora, actually. And me. And your father as well, probably. I hope you're ready for this baby of yours to run absolutely wild around their—I mean, her—grandparents."

Victoire smiled and rested both her hands on top of her belly bump.

"We'll keep her in check," Victoire said. "I just can't wait to bring her to the beach for the first time and dip her little feet in water. I don't know how old babies are supposed to be when you do that, but Dad threw us in right away when we were little."

Remus smiled at the thought of it, and he started thinking of all the childminding and lullabies and old stories and peek-a-boo games he would get around to once again when the baby was born. Dora had been absolutely merciless when Teddy had been little; she would stand behind him while he bathed the baby and colour-comment in a poor imitation of his voice. I'm Remus Lupin and I don't want kids. I'm going to be a terrible father. Maybe I'm fundamentally incapable of love. My kind don't breed. I don't want kids. He had always smiled and swatted her away half-heartedly, because she'd been right. He liked kids. He loved his kid. And he was excited to have another little one around once again.

"And I'm excited to see if she's a Metamorphmagi too. I mean, is it genetic in the Tonks family?"

"I don't think so," Remus said. "Teddy's grandfather was Muggleborn, and the Blacks are far too boring to have something as exciting in their lineage."

Victoire laughed and then sighed and looked down at her belly accusingly.

"I'm allowed to laugh," she told the baby sternly. "You don't have to kick every time."

Remus bit his lip to keep from laughing himself. When Victoire looked up at him, she had a smile on her face though.

"Hey, Remus?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"We're nowhere near Diagon Alley," Victoire said. "Just in case you were wondering how well your bookstore fib was going..."

Remus smiled but didn't have an answer for her. She had been bright and intuitive enough to know that the sky was blue for everyone and that licorice trees didn't grow in Canada, and she was old enough to know that he was just here to look out for her now.

"Thanks for babysitting me," Victoire said with a smile.

"I'm not your babysitter anymore," Remus defended.

"I know, I know. I guess you're technically my friend," she said. "But it's been a while, but I like the company."

WC: 1300