"One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving."
All she wanted to do was shelter him.
She didn't want to hurt him; that was never her intention. Hadn't her little boy, her only little boy, hadn't he been hurt enough?
It was a rainy day, only four days until the second full moon since Remus' attack. It had hurt him the first transformation – and, by extension, her as well. Her husband and her son came out from the forest both limping and bloody. Remus had reopened his scars and created new ones, and his voice was raspy, thin and weak, not at all the excitable little boy she had known only a few months ago.
It hadn't been long. Only a few months since the attack, and her son wasn't the same anymore. He wasn't loud and happy, cheering on Quidditch with his dad in the sitting room, listening to the wireless while she hummed and made dinner for the family.
He was quiet, sullen and miserable. He stomped up to his room and didn't come down. Lyall turned the wireless off and shook his head – the Appleby Arrows were playing Puddlemere, but he couldn't concentrate.
Without the wireless on, preparing dinner was a quiet and stifling task. She accidentally sliced her finger chopping up vegetables, and even missed the plate once and knocked over a glass of milk.
She could hear Lyall's steps from behind her.
"Why don't you let me manage dinner tonight, love?"
Hope usually would have protested – of course she could cook dinner – but she was shaking and tired, and there was this weird lethargic feeling covering her, suffocating her. She nodded and headed up the stairs of their house.
She paused outside of Remus' room. She was tempted to knock, to go in, but she stared at the door for a good long minute before walking away.
She settled into her own bedroom, lying down and letting the lethargy cover her like a blanket.
When she woke up the next morning, she hadn't even realized she had missed dinner until she saw there was only a crack of sunshine peeking out from underneath the curtains, and Lyall was beside her, still asleep. He must have tucked her underneath the blankets and changed her into pajamas.
Hope checked the clock – it was only five in the morning, but she wouldn't be able to get much sleep. She padded out the bedroom door and took a shower, letting the nearly-scalding water soothe her aching bones. She felt so much older than thirty-one – when exactly had she become so old? It was yesterday, she was sure, she was seventeen and graduating from Hogwarts, nineteen and meeting Lyall at the end of the aisle.
She prepared breakfast, the crackling of the food cooking echoing around the room. She set everything out and cast warming charms. Neither of the boys were up – it was still only six-thirty on a weekend, after all. She sat down and read for a while, trying to concentrate over the silence that seemed too loud right now.
After what seemed like a moment later, Lyall came down the stairs yawning.
"Breakfast is ready, darling," she said.
Lyall looked at her with that twinkle in his eye. "You don't have to do all of the work, you know. I'll help wherever you need me to."
"I like cooking," protested Hope, the faintest trace of a smile on her face. "I do work at a bakery, after all."
Lyall leaned over the back of her armchair and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Have I told you lately that you are hopelessly impossible?"
She laughed weakly. "You only tell me every day, Lyall."
He kissed her cheek and departed the sitting room for the kitchen. It was eight o'clock now – she'd better be getting Remus up.
She opened the door only a crack before peering in. He was still asleep, clutching the blankets to his chest. He looked so peaceful – his face had fallen into an expression of relaxed tranquillity. She slipped in the room, careful to avoid the creaking spots in the flooring – Remus could wake up in the drop of a hat.
She stood in front of him silently for a few moments, before crouching down and putting her hands on his shoulders, careful to avoid the bandaged spots.
"Remus, honey," she murmured quietly. The boy stirred, but didn't wake up. "Remus," she murmured again, and he blinked, looking up at her.
For a second, he was her little boy again – bright-eyed and curious, with a curiosity that could never be satisfied. For a brief second, she saw the light in his eyes, the sparkle and the hope.
It diminished quickly. Remus turned away from her, pulling out of her light hold and getting out of bed. Hope stood up, sighing. She ruffled his hair. He didn't respond.
"Breakfast is ready, darling," she said once more.
Hope left the room and joined her husband in the sitting room. He was reading the Daily Prophet, knitting his eyebrows together and chewing on the back of a quill.
"Another attack from Greyback," he said, rubbing his temples. "A twenty year old man didn't make it, and four other teenagers are in St. Mungos, being treated for non life-threatening injuries. When is this going to stop, Hope?" he asked.
She was silent. Another attack, another four people who would have to live like her son. It didn't just hurt her – it ripped her heart open and sewed it back together, letting her love seep through the cracks. She loved so much it was only in her nature, now, loved her husband and her son and her family and friends so wholly she felt their pain with them.
Small footsteps came down the stairs. Hope and Lyall looked up. Remus was standing at the bottom of the stairs, in his favourite ragged pajamas.
"There's tea and toast, as well as eggs, and if you prefer orange juice, there's some of that, too," Hope spoke quickly.
Her son turned away from her and headed to the kitchen.
a/n - for the Tien Len Competition, round one. For the card Jack, level Hearts. For the Disney Character Challenge, character Mrs. Jumbo. Word count: 1,023. Thoughts, as always, are valued and appreciated :)