"It’s not fair," Remus said, his voice cracking with frustration or anger or sadness, or maybe all three. "It’s not fair to me, but that’s fine. I don’t really care. I signed up for this. Or at least I can take responsibility for it. But Teddy didn’t sign up for any of it. He didn’t ask to be born. He’s innocent, and he doesn’t deserve this. Maybe it’s fine now. He’s just a baby. But what am I going to tell him when he’s five and she brings him home in the middle of the night because she’s overwhelmed? Or when he’s eight and she’s missed three visits in a row? Or when he’s 10 and she doesn’t show up to his football match? I hate talking shit about my son’s mother. But I have learned over the past 16 months that not everyone is meant for parenthood. And it’s not some moral failing. I’m not passing judgement at all. Maybe she really is trying her best. But it’s just kind of like...in or out, you know? Pick one. You don’t have to be the best parent in the world, no one is. We all fuck up, all time. But just be there. If you say you want to be a part of his life, then show up. Put in some fucking effort. Be willing to be uncomfortable. Otherwise, just get the fuck on with it and let us move on."