Remus scrubbed a hand over his face. He hadn't left the chair by his son's bed since he arrived the day before. His moon exhaustion was forgotten, though he'd slept hard every time he allowed himself to doze. Seeing Teddy laying in that bed was overwhelming. He looked like his grandfather, and Remus spent hours just watching him sleep. He'd been floored when Hugo told him he had a son. He could barely believe it, but there was no denying what he saw and smelled. Weird as that sounded, Teddy smelled like his. He would know his boy anywhere, even though he wasn't much of a boy anymore.
Louis was right. There wasn't anything Remus could do to help, and every time a doctor came in to check on Teddy, he moved out of the way, standing in a corner till they were gone. He left only when they insisted that he eat. He didn't want to. He thought watching his boy made it easier to imagine him small and growing. He pictured reading Teddy bedtime stories and teaching him early bits of magic. Remus tried to figure out who his mother was by his features, but he didn't know. He might not have met her yet. "Sirius and James would get a kick out of this," he murmured.