He is nothing like his father, Remus lied to himself. For the first year or so, Remus managed to convince himself that it was only the boy's looks that were a carbon copy of Sirius. But as Eliot grew, it became harder to deny the similarities.
When he was four, Eliot decided his favorite animal was a dog. A black, scruffy dog, to be exact. At least that was the way he drew them. He picked up his black crayon and scribbled mangy-looking mutts and showed them to Remus, who thought to himself, You have got to be joking, but out loud he said, "Good job, Eli!" and put every single drawing on the fridge.
As far as Remus was aware, the first time Eliot did accidental magic was when he was five years old. The window was open and it was chilly outside. Eliot shivered, then the window slammed shut and a blanket flew over to him. Remus thought that if Eliot had been a squib, it would have made things much easier. Once Remus knew that was no longer a possibility, he got to work teaching Eliot everything he could about magic without actually letting him do it yet. Eliot was going to be an incredible wizard, just like his father could have been. Remus was determined to make it so.
At the age of six, Eliot insisted they make a snowman together at Christmastime. While Remus was rolling up the midsection of the snowman, a snowball hit the back of his head. He heard an unmistakable laugh that made his mind flash back to the Gryffindor dormitory, and turned to see a matching smile. He smiled back at the boy, and was hit square in the face with another snowball.
When Eliot was seven, on one of their visits with Lyall, Eliot was telling a story about Remus and accidentally said "my dad." Remus was touched for a moment. The two of them had an unspoken agreement not to use words like "father" and "son" to refer to one another. They were on a first-name basis, though Eliot still often called Remus "Moony." Remus secretly hoped that might change at some point, and he thought it might finally be the time. But then, Eliot ran off and locked himself in the bathroom for forty-five minutes, sobbing and screaming on the floor. Remus sat on the other side of the door, trying to coax Eliot to let him in. He could have unlocked it easily, but he didn't want to break Eliot's trust. Instead, he sat there and wondered, How does Eliot's crying sound like Sirius, too? When Eliot finally unlocked the door, he said "I'm sorry, Remus," (and it hurt Remus just a little bit that he didn't say Moony,) and then didn't speak for the rest of the night. A bit dramatic, if you asked Remus — a bit like Sirius.
Sometimes, Remus found himself wondering about Harry. He counted the years that had passed since James and Lily died. Harry was a year younger than Eliot, what was Eliot like a year ago? Was Harry as much a reflection of James as Eliot was Sirius? How unfair that Remus only got to raise one of the boys. He refused to be resentful that he was raising the traitor's son. That wouldn't be fair to Eliot.
Raising Eliot was never easy, but it was very much worth it to Remus. He never regretted his decision. Keeping a young boy out of an orphanage was something to be proud of, but Remus found much more delight in the child's antics. However, a child like Eliot, an orphan with a traumatic past who was being raised by an impoverished werewolf, was more difficult than another child might have been. There were a lot of hard conversations ("When is my dad coming home?") and Remus's lycanthropy made everything worse ("He didn't want to go to bed last night without saying goodnight to you. I tried to explain why you couldn't, but he doesn't really understand yet."). This didn't particularly bother Remus. He found more purpose in life with a child to care for, and he was happy to have the company.
The worst thing about Eliot, in Remus's opinion, was the way he proclaimed his father's innocence. Remus knew that seeing thirteen murders at once must have been traumatic for a young boy, but so traumatic as to make up a story in which Peter was the one who cast the curse and then just miraculously disappeared? It was extremely distressing to Remus to think what horrors Eliot's brain must be hiding from itself. He hoped that Eliot would never remember any of what actually happened that night. Every so often, Sirius came up in conversation, and it always ended in one of Eliot's theories.
"He must've disapparated!" A nine-year-old Eliot insisted.
"We are not having this conversation again." Remus sighed.
He isn't exactly like his father, Remus reasoned with himself.
Sure, there were differences, they were just few and far between. For one thing, Eliot knew how to shut up. Sirius, as hard as he tried, could never do that. When Remus had a splitting headache the day after the full moon, Eliot tiptoed around the house as quietly as possible. He checked on Remus and whispered things like, "Do you need anything?" or "Papa Lyall made hot chocolate, if you want some." Sirius always tried his best to be quiet on days like that when they were in school, but Eliot was much better at it.
He wasn't nearly as arrogant as his father was. Maybe it was from spending so much time with Remus or growing up poor, or maybe he just wasn't old enough yet, but Eliot never had that stupid, haughty look on his face that Sirius always did. Eliot was kind, honest, and soft-spoken — things he had picked up from Remus, no doubt. Sirius had always been quick to anger, but the only thing that seemed to provoke Eliot was when people spoke ill of someone he loved — usually werewolves or his father.
Eliot was also an extremely well-read child, thanks to frequent trips to libraries with Remus. It wasn't that Sirius didn't read, but he always poked fun at Remus for reading for leisure. Eliot would pick out books on all kinds of topics, and Remus rarely had the heart to tell him "no," even when he probably should have. Eliot read books about Muggle topics and about magic; he wasn't picky, he just wanted to learn. Occasionally, at the magical library, he found a book about the war, flipped through it until he found his father's name, and read as much as he could before Remus noticed. Remus usually noticed much earlier than Eliot thought he did, though Remus decided to leave him be. When Eliot looked like he was nearly finished, Remus walked over and asked, "What'cha got there?" Eliot slammed the book closed and said with a smile, "Oh, nothing too interesting. History, you know? Just browsing." Eliot was always a little grumpier on those days, because all any stupid history book had to say about Sirius Black was everything that he didn't want to hear.
For Eliot's eighth birthday, Lyall bought him a broomstick. Eliot was a natural at flying. He thought the toy Bludgers were funny and would hit them at people no matter how much Remus scolded him for it. He had no interest in the Quaffle, unlike Sirius, who had been a Keeper. That was something. Anything that differentiated him from Sirius was something.
Lyall died just after Eliot's tenth birthday. Eliot sulked for weeks; Remus was devastated, but had no time to grieve. He panicked and started considering his options with Eliot. There were only two and a half weeks until the next full moon. There was a nice Muggle family that lived a mile down the road, perhaps their daughter would be willing to babysit. He quickly tossed that idea. He knew he could never scrape together enough money for that, not with having to save for everything Eliot needed for school next year. Eliot would have to be alone one night a month. Just for a little more than a year, just until Hogwarts.
When Remus told Eliot that he couldn't find anyone to watch him during the full moons, Eliot shrugged and replied, "That's okay. You have enough to deal with."
Remus emerged from the basement (which Eliot annoyingly referred to as "The Wolf's Den") the morning after the first full moon without his father. He jumped back when he found Eliot already sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast.
"How's it going, Moony?" Eliot grinned before taking a swig of orange juice. His face reflected the same smirk Remus had seen a thousand times before on a different boy. Eliot let his hair grow out like his father always did, and Remus swore that Eliot was already developing a jawline the same shape as Sirius's. The kid was the spitting image of a young Sirius Black. If Remus hadn't met the woman, he might have wondered whether Eliot's mum ever actually existed. It was like Sirius somehow managed to reproduce asexually, or perhaps de-age himself back to a young boy.
He is his father, Remus admitted to himself.