---Parents Leave Only When They've Got To---

-Remus Lupin seems to appear out of nowhere with the telltale crack of Apparating.-

It was a very dark night and the sky seemed to be pressing down upon my head as I watched the house's façade appear, unnoticed by those dwelling in number eleven and number thirteen. The plan was clear as day in my mind and I withdrew my wand and lightly tapped upon the front door of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, murmuring, "Alohamora!" as I did so and then listening to the satisfying clicking and scraping of the locks. I opened the door as little as possible while still allowing myself to pass through and immediately shut it behind me, prepared for what was to greet me. A tall figure quite familiar to me rose from the ground, the hue of dust and moving like a swift breeze through the stale-scented air of the ancient house. The figure lifted a hand and rushed towards me, pointing straight at me, and a familiar voice that had not belonged to the person before me said very quietly, "Severus Snape?"

I felt the rush of frigid wind that I had been expecting and felt my tongue curl backwards as if of its own volition. I paused and said quietly, "It was not I who killed you, Albus," and the pale imitation of the man that had been Albus Dumbledore burst into a dense cloud of dust and I was enveloped by it. I had loathed the idea of using Dumbledore to guard Grimmauld Place. I had never in my life admired, respected or cared for any man as much as I did Albus Dumbledore, perchance if we are counting Prongs. Albus showed me kindness long ago by accepting me to Hogwarts even though I was a werewolf, which I had never expected, and I have learned that those kindnesses to children leave a mark on them forever, on occasion even moreso than mistreatment or rejection does. I accepted that Albus would have wanted to help the Order after death, as cliché as that sounded and that in the scenario that Severus did return here, it was as likely to stop him as anything else.

"Don't move!"

For one outrageous moment, I confess that I thought that it was Harry's father bellowing at me and not he. One day, I ought to tell him he sounds an awful lot like Prongs…when things aren't as they are now…if that day should ever come… I shook this thought off, knowing that we would never defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters unless we had faith that we could, as revoltingly optimistic as that sounded. I believed in Harry, I really did, I believed he would end this mad war at long last. Like so many other witches and wizards, I had to believe Harry could triumph.

The curtains that were drawn over the horrid portrait of Sirius' mother flew open and she began to screech some of what I had come to know as her favorite words and phrases, "Mudbloods and filth dishonoring my house—"

I heard people on the stairs but there was no question who they were, "Hold your fire, it's me, Remus!" I said with my hands raised in a show of surrender as the dust very slowly began to settle.

"Oh, thank goodness," I heard Hermione sigh weakly and with a bang, the portrait of Mrs. Black was silenced.

"Show yourself!" Harry called.

I obeyed, moving forward with my hands still held up, "I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how o produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag." I thought this may seem like overkill, but from the determined look on Harry's face that I couldn't be too careful. He had his jaw set firmly and his brow furrowed, the same expression Lily often had worn while dealing with Prongs when we were in school.

"Oh, all right," Harry said, his wand arm falling to his side, "But I had to check, didn't I?"

"Speaking as your ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, I quite agree that you had to check." This was true, there was a piece inside of me grinning and thinking proudly of how well I had taught Harry. One day, when I told him he sounded like his father and made facial expressions like his mother, I would tell him that I was proud of him as well. I looked at Ron and Hermione, "Ron, Hermione, you shouldn't be quite so quick to lower your defenses."

All three of them drew nearer to me now, sure that I was not an imposter. I had to admit, it was a pleasure to see the three of them although they looked like hell already. Hermione had a deep crease etched between her brows as though she were trying to solve a rather challenging Arithmancy equation and her hair seemed wilder than usual. Ron's face was paler beneath the splattering of Weasley freckles and I could see worry in his blue eyes. Harry on the other hand, did not look frightened or worried, but alert. His eyes, so like his mother's, were wide as if trying to see and absorb everything. He stood straighter than usual and I couldn't help but admit that he looked vaguely like a stag or a doe that has heard rustling in nearby bushes, attentive and prepared to flee or fight. I sighed and asked them, primarily Harry, "No sign of Severus, then?"

"No," Harry replied and he didn't sound disappointed, "What's going on? Is everyone okay?"

"Yes," I replied and I saw my own feelings of gratefulness at this reflected on their faces, "But we're all being watched. There are a couple of Death Eaters in the square outside—"

"We know—"

"I had to Apparate very precisely onto the top step outside the front door to be sure that they would not see me. They can't know you're in here or I'm sure they'd have more people out there; they're staking out anywhere that's got any connection to you, Harry." I explained, "Let's go downstairs, there's a lot to tell you, and I want to know what happened after you left the Burrow." We all went down into the kitchen and with a swish of her wand, Hermione had a fire crackling in the hearth, making the room seem almost comfortable. I withdrew some bottles of Butterbeer that I had been listening to clink beneath my cloak and set them on the long, gleaming table as we sat and I said, "I'd have been here three days ago but I needed to shake off the Death Eater tailing me," I was very glad when none of them requested details for it was a lengthy and tedious story, "So, you came straight here after the wedding?"

I took a sip of Butterbeer as Harry explained, "No, only after we ran into a couple of Death Eaters in a café on Tottenham Court Road." I slopped most of the Butterbeer down my front and demanded details, which they gave me.

"But how did they find you so quickly? It's impossible to track anyone who Apparates, unless you grab hold of them as they disappear!" I was aghast and was sure that I looked it.

"And it doesn't seem like they were just strolling down Tottenham Court Road at the time, does it?" Harry said.

"We wondered," said Hermione cautiously, her brown eyes waching me directly, "Whether Harry could still have the Trace on him?"

"Impossible," I said and it was. It seemed like all three of them breathed a proverbial collective sigh, "Apart from anything else, they'd know for sure Harry was here if he still had the Trace on him, wouldn't they? But I don't see how they could have tracked you to Tottenham Court Road, that's worrying," I chewed my lower lip, "Really worrying."

As usual, Harry gave the response that Lily would have and not James. James would have immediately come up with some bizarre, far-fetched and very implausible theory about how the Death Eaters had gotten to Tottenham Court Road, but Lily would have been more concerned about the welfare of the other wedding guests. Her son asked, "Tell us what happened after we left, we haven't heard a thing since Ron's dad told us the family were safe."

"Well, Kingsley saved us. Thanks to his warning most of the wedding guests were able to Disapparate before they arrived." I replied, recalling all that had happened to spoil the merry celebration.

"Were they Death Eaters of ministry people?" Hermione asked at once, always the inquiring mind out of the little trio.

"A mixture; but to all intents and purposes they're the same thing now," I replied in a suitably grave tone, "There were a dozen of them, but they didn't know you were there, Harry. Arthur heard a rumor that they tried to torture your whereabouts out of Scrimgeour before they killed him; if it's true, he didn't give you away." The three of them exchanged identicals looks of surprise and gratitude, "The Death Eaters searched the Burrow from top to bottom, they found the ghoul, but didn't want to get too close—and they interrogated those of us who remained for hours. They were trying to get information on you, Harry, but of course nobody apart from the Order knew that you had been there.

"At the same time they were smashing up the wedding, more Death Eaters were forcing their way into every Order-connected house in the country." Hermione opened her mouth but before she could ask, I said, "No deaths, but they were rough. They burned down Dedalus Diggle's house, but as you know he wasn't there, and they used the Cruciatus Curse on Tonks' family. Again, trying to find out where you went after you visited them. They're all right—shaken, obviously, but otherwise okay."

"The Death Eaters got through all those protective charms?" Harry asked.

"What you've got to realize, Harry, is that the Death Eaters have got the full might of the Ministry on their side now, they've got the power to perform brutal spells without fear of identification or arrest." I elucidated, "They managed to penetrate every defensive spell we'd cast against them, and once inside, they were completely open about why they'd come."

"And are they bothering to give an excuse for torturing Harry's whereabouts out of people?" Hermione asked, her voice sharp, although I could not tell if I was hearing anger, annoyance, anxiety or fear.

"Well..." I had been dreading this question, yet I had been ready for it. By now, I knew Harry, Ron and Hermione very well and I had known they would ask. I took a deep breath that I intended as cleansing although it hardly succeeded and placed on the tabletop the folded Daily Prophet that I had had within my cloak and slid it towards Harry, "Here, you'll know sooner or later. That's their pretext for going after you."

I watched Harry read the glaring headline. Ron and Hermione both responded furiously, as well as loudly, although luckily the noise did not travel up the stairs to the horrid portrait of Mrs. Black. Harry was silent in contrast to his best friends, and simply pushed the paper away, looking almost like a nauseaus person pushing away a plate of food.

"I'm sorry, Harry," I said, but Harry did nothing to acknowledge this.

Hermione was still seething, "So Death Eaters have taken over the Daily Prophet too?"

I nodded.

"But surely people realize what's going on?"

"The coup has been smooth and virtually silent," I told them, "The official version of Scrimgeour's murder is that he resigned; he has been replaced by Pius Thicknesse, who is under the Imperius Curse."

"Why didn't Voldemort declare himself Minister of Magic?" Ron asked.

I laughed although it wasn't funny. Nothing about the state of the world was really funny at all, if I'm being completely frank, "He didn't need to, Ron. Effectively he is the Minister, but why should he sit behind a desk at the Ministry? His puppet, Thicknesse, is taking care of everyday business, leaving Voldemort free to extend his power beyond the Ministry.

"Naturally many people have deduced what has happened: There has been such a dramatic change in Ministry policy in the last few days, and many are whispering that Voldemort is behind it." I said and felt again the need to elaborate, "However, that is the point: They whisper. They daren't confide in each other, not knowing whom to trust; they are scared to speak out, in case their suspicions are true and their families are targeted." I nodded glumly as I continued, "Yes, Voldemort is playing a very clever game. Declaring himself might have provoked open rebellion: Remaining masked has created confusion, uncertainty and fear."

Harry spoke now, for the first time since I had showed him the newspaper, "And this dramatic change in Ministry policy involves warning the Wizarding public against me instead of Voldemort?"

"That's certainly part of it," I agreed, "And it is a masterstroke. Now that Dumbledore is dead, you--the Boy Who Lived--were sure to be the symbol and rallying point for any resistance to Voldemort. But by suggesting that you had a hand in the old hero's death, Voldemort has not set a price upon your head, but sown doubt and fear amongst many that would have defended you." I knew Harry had a habit of seeing himself as the responsible party for tragedies and feeling ridden with guilt afterward. Not to mention, the tradition of paranoia and thinking everyone was the enemy. I swallowed, right now his suspicions would be well-founded. I chose to change the subject, "Meanwhile, the Ministry has started moving against Muggleborns." I pointed at the Daily Prophet, "Look at page two."

After Hermione had read aloud about the belief that 'so-called' Muggleborns had gained magical power by theft or force and explained about the Muggleborn Registration Committee, Ron looked somewhere between awed, terrified and enraged, "People won't let this happen," he snarled.

"It is happening, Ron, Muggleborns are being rounded up as we speak."

"But how are they supposed to have 'stolen' magic?" he asked, "It's mental, if you could steal magic there wouldn't be any Squibs, would there?"

Everyone always seemed to percieve Ron Weasley as stupid, but he's as intelligent as the average young person, if not as brilliant as Hermione. "I know," I said, "Nevertheless, unless you can prove that you have at least one close Wizarding relative, you are now deemed to have obtained magical power illegally and must suffer the punishment."

Ron was looking at Hermione now as he said, "What if Purebloods and Half-bloods swear a Muggleborn's part of their family? I'll tell everyone Hermione's my cousin--"

Ron's hand was resting idly on the table by his Butterbeer bottle and Hermione took it in her own and squeezed it, "Thank you, Ron, but I couldn't let you--"

"You won't have a choice," Ron said fiercely, gripping her hand back, "I'll teach you my family tree so you can answer queations on it."

Hermione gave a trembly little laugh, "Ron, as we're on the run with Harry Potter, the most wanted person in the country, I don't think it matters. If I was going back to school it would be different." She suddenly faced me and asked, her face horror-stricken, "What's Voldemort planning for Hogwarts?"

I explained now how it was announced that every young witch or wizard must attend Hogwarts after proving to the Ministry that they are pure- or half-bloods and that Voldemort would likely be watching them the whole while. Harry honestly looked as if he was going to be sick. He shook his head stammering, horrified, "It's...it's..."

"I know." I said and then paused before plunging into the most important part of plan, and found myself thinking inexplicably of Tonks. I rid her from my thoughts and said, "I'll understand if you can't confirm this, Harry, but the Order is under the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission."

"He did," Harry answered without pause, "And Ron and Hermione are in on it and they're coming with me."

"Can you confide in me what the mission is?"

Harry looked at me with Lily's eyes very intensely for a moment and then sighed, "I can't, Remus, I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't tell you I don't think I can."

"I thought you'd say that," I said, disappointment welling inside me, "But I might still be some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to." I felt like some sort of mercenary making this offer.

Harry hesitated. He look very tempted, indeed. Beside him, Hermione looked puzzled and when she spoke, I knew it was a lost cause, "But what about Tonks?"

I played dumb, something that doesn't come easy for me. I pretended I didn't know what Hermione meant. I pretended that I thought my wife would be content to hide in her parents' home as far from the action as Padfoot had been when he had been stuck here in Grimmauld Place a couple years back and with me far away, having an adventure without her. Finally, I couldn't dance around the subject and admitted it, "Tonks is going to have a baby."

All three of them cried out in surprise and congratulations. I forced myself to smile and then said, "So...do you accept my offer? Will three become four? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined."

I knew with Harry's next question that his answer would be no, "Just--just to be clear, you want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?"

"She'll be perfectly safe there," I said, trying to believe it, "They'll look after her." and the next words came of their own accord, "Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you." And with that statement hanging in the air I sympathised with Sirius who we all had so oft critisized for acting as if Harry were his father.

"Well, I'm not." Harry said slowly, "I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with you own kid, actually."

I felt the blood drain from my face. He sounded so much like James and I found myself seeing that he was right, Prongs would have been ashamed that I would leave Tonks at this point. Again I pushed the thought away, "You don't understand."

"Explain, then."

I gulped, "I--I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since." I confessed.

"I see," said Harry and for a moment I had hope before he added, "So you're just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?"

I was on my feet before I even knew I had moved. My chair clattered onto its side and I made no move to put it back in place. Fury surged through my veins and I glared at Harry all the while, unblinkingly, "Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I've made her an outcast!" In my anger I kicked the fallen chair fiercely and a sharp pain shot through my foot and up my leg, only fueling my rage, "You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore's protection at Hogwarts! You don't know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me!" I had dealt with being a werewolf for so long and yet this was the first time I was even attempting to express how terrible it really had been, not even touching on the subject of doors that had slammed in my face, "When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don't you see what I've done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child--the child--"

I felt anger, sadness, guilt and shame creeping over my skin and through my poisoned blood. I clutched at handfuls of my prematurely grizzled hair, "My kind don't usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it--how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly ricked passing on my condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!"

"Remus!" Hermione tearfully, "Don't say that--how could any child be ashamed of you?"

"Oh, I don't know, Hermione, I'd be pretty ashamed of him." Harry was standing now and it was as if his words had numbed me, "If the new regime thinks Muggleborns are bad, what will they do to a half-werewolf whose father's in the Order?" His voice grew colder than I had ever heard it, whether it be coming from the lips of father or son, and quieter, "My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he'd tell you to abandon Tonks and your kid to go on an adventure with us?"

As if I needed reminding now of all times how my best friend had been murdered in the bloom of his youth? As if with all the guilt and pain that I was feeling I needed to hear James' very voice practically telling me I was a disgrace, "How--how dare you?! This is not about a desire for--for danger or personal glory--how dare you suggest such a--"

"I think you're feeling a bit of a daredevil, you fancy stepping into Sirius' shoes--" Mere moments after Prongs being recalled to the surface of my memory, Harry had to pull Padfoot into this as well?! Hermione was trying to keep Harry from making things any worse but it was as if I had gone deaf, her words were like blurred pictures whirring by too quickly to be seen properly. My thoughts were flitting between so many things. Tonks, the only woman who had ever loved me, who had ever wanted me, who had ever not cared I was poor, aging and a werewolf. The son or daughter than she was to bear, so likely afflicted as I was. To Sirius, whose death I had tried to convince Harry had happened although his screams for Sirius to return mirrored how I felt.To Dumbledore who with the simple deed of allowing me into Hogwarts had shaped who I was only to be killed when we would soon need him the most. To Severus, who had killed him for Voldemort. To Lily, who may forever be linked to Severus in my mind, who had pleaded with Voldemort to spare the youth insulting me. To James, who had fallen in an attempt to save his family. To Wormtail, who had betrayed the Potters out of callowness and cowardice--

"I'd never have believed this, the man who taught me to fight Dementors--a coward!" my wand was out not three seconds after the words left his lips and I felt no remorse for the hex I sent his way. I was gone from the room at once, with Hermione's voice calling after me, until at last I slammed the front door shut behind me and was left in the silence of the night outside. I had to choose where to go because I had to Apparate fast, before the two Death Eaters spotted me. Already Harry's actions were beginning to make sense...I should have known that a parent willingly deserting a child would strike a cord with him, for was it not the wont of human beings to ask why? For the shortest child of his age to wonder why he is not tall? For the heaviest girl to wonder why it is so? For the ailing to ask why they are not healthy? For the poverty-stricken to ask why their pockets are empty? And surely for orphans to ask why their parents had to leave them. I still felt rage and offense blending and bubbling in the deepest recesses of my spirit, where Harry's words had reached to. Despite this, I was finding one thought breaking through and making the worst of things seem better like a chink of morning sun whispering into the black depths of a cave; drying rain before it could hit my face and drying snow before it could freeze my hands; giving me a little hope, a little faith and even a little joy even with the state of the world and what had just transpired. Do you know what that thought was, that thought that made the decision of where I was Apparating for me?

It was Tonks is waiting for me and she deserves better than to be kept waiting.

-Remus Lupin appeared outside of the home of Andromeda and Ted Tonks, where their daughter was temporarily dwelling, with the telltale crack of Apparating. When he saw his wife's face peering out into the yard and brightening joyously at the sight of his return, he knew that he was in the one place where he really did belong.-

-Fin-

(a/n: this was written for a challenge in the Writing Challenges forum

entitled 'Remus Challenge' created by 'Good Vibes')