My plan to finish writing FF by the end of the year had very clearly failed so what do I do... Start another one of course! This is going to be a series of one-shots depicting the life that the Lupin's SHOULD HAVE HAD. Clearly they have survived the war.

I have not given up on A Life More Ordinary... i am just struggling to churn out the last few chapters! :)

Enjoy! And please review! I love reviews!

Nymphadora Tonks Lupin refused to let go of her son. It had been two hundred and twenty-three hours, thirty seven minutes and…. Eighteen seconds since she had stumbled into her mother's house, ignored the woman's demands to know the outcome of the Battle, and tripped her way upstairs, alone, to lift her son into her arms. To hold him and… and…weep uncontrollably.

Since that night she had fed and bathed her son, changed him, crooned to him but she had never let him go. Not once. Not even to sleep, she had insisted that she sleep with him cradled against her. Spelled so that he would not fall from her arms.

She had sat in St Mungo's for two hundred and twenty hours, nineteen minutes and….fifty-six seconds since a Patronus came to her. Harry's Patronous. With the news that the husband she thought was dead was in fact, very much alive. Well, if you could call being completely unconscious for the last nine and a half days alive. There had been a full moon four nights ago, a moon that he was sedated through and monitored closely. Harry had refused to leave the hospital that night, he stubbornly insisted that Remus Lupin was a hero and would not be used as a test subject. Dora had been grateful, unbelievably grateful, to her son's god-father.

He had not been left alone, the werewolf who had once thought himself alone and friendless in the world. Dora was there during the day, Harry would stay most nights, insisting that she needed her sleep, for Teddy. Then there was Hermione, Neville, Luna, Kingsley, Minerva, Lee Jordan, and, despite the hell that their family was going through, Ginny, Bill, Charlie and George. Molly had come once, with Arthur, but, seeing someone who was so dear to her heart, lying, so still and broken had been too much for her. Andromeda brought food in twice a day and tried to gently coax her daughter home. Her attempts almost always ended in failure.

Dora shifted Teddy in her arms. She had just finished feeding and then burping hm. His hair was the same blue as the knitted blanket tucked around him, a present from Molly after she had heard about his birth. The door opened but she refused to take her eyes off her husband's grey-tinged face.

"I brought food."

Her eyes lifted. Harry.

"I…" she was about to make her usual plea not to eat but fell silent. He would argue with her and he looked…

Harry set the food onto the table beside Dora and reached to take Teddy. She relinquished her son slowly. Harry was the only one who was allowed to take him from her arms and to see some of the broken heartedness in his eyes heal, it was worth the pang of fear.

She picked at a chip. "Whose?" She acknowledged the heavy black robes he wore. Harry had slumped into the only other chair in the room, on the opposite side of Remus' narrow hospital bed. He cradled Teddy close and pressed his forehead against the baby's soft one.

"Harry?" she looked at him closely. He was shivering.

"Fred's," he whispered. He looked up slowly and tears spilled down his cheeks. Tonks rose and hurried to him. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him against her. His head rested against her stomach. Gently she ran her hand through his hair as he sobbed against her.

She didn't say anything. What could she say? It wasn't all right. His friend was dead. Their friend was dead. And he was sobbing in her unconscious husband's hospital room. It was most certainly not all right.

He pulled back a little after a long moment. "Sorry, Tonks," he mumbled.

"Oh shut up!" She dashed away her own tears. Shaking her head, complete with lank brown hair that refused to budge colour. "We all need to cry, Harry James! And don't you ever forget that."

Harry nodded. "How's Remus?"

"Still the same," Dora reached to brush a lock of greying hair off the precious face. "The healers say most of the internal damage has been healed and the bones have all been knitted back together."
"Will there be any permanent damage?"

Dora sighed. "He will probably ache more at each full moon. We will have to be careful and make sure he avoids Death Eaters and wars with spells that are potentially fatal, but he should be all right. Thought the healers thing he will be quite susceptible to colds and the like and that his lungs might not heal quite properly seeing as they focused on his heart and liver first because they were the most damaged."

Harry nodded. "And do they think he will wake up soon?"

Dora eyed the young man. She had heard the catch in his throat and she knew that she was not the only one hurting. "They are optimistic." Her voice was dull.

Harry nodded. His eyes traced the scarred visage of the werewolf. "I want to get to know him better."

"It's a mutual feeling, Harry. Remus loves you dearly."

Harry looked at her, clearly surprised.

"Oh yes, he told me that. There are a very small handful of people that Remus loves and you are quite firmly entrenched on that list."

Harry blushed. "I… I love him too, I guess," he admitted shyly. "He was always so nice to me. Always answered my lessons and he… he cared. He would go out of his way to help me if I asked it. Even when I didn't. He was always there. He got in the way of a cruciatis for me at the Battle."

Dora bit her lip. "He would," she whispered. "When he wakes up, tell him that, Harry. He has this idea that you don't really need or want him around. That perhaps it is entirely a habit, or because he was friends with your father and Sirius."

Harry sighed. "Stupid werewolf," he muttered.

Dora laughed. Her fingers were intertwined with her husband's. "Yes," she agreed. "Where are you staying at the moment?"

"At Shell Cottage all the Weasley's are there, Hermione and Neville too."

"Rather crowded."

"Us boys are in tents," Harry admitted with a half-smile.

"Will you stay with the Weasley's?"

"No," Harry looked down at the baby in his arms. "No, I… I might go to Grimmauld, I guess."

Hearing the bleak, lonely tones in the man who was still just a boy, Dora spoke firmly. "No, you will not! You will come with us."

"What?" Harry looked up, startled.

"I was going to wait till Remus woke, but he is taking far too long!" a firm squeeze of the hand she held hinted at some of her desperation. "He spoke about it, after Teddy was born how he wanted to ask you, once the war was over, to come and stay with us. To be a family. He always wanted you, you know. But being a werewolf…" she shrugged. "He was never granted custody of you as a child and now you are an adult he wants…. He wants to show you that you are part of this family."

"But… I would be intruding."

"Rubbish!" Dora frowned threateningly at him. "If you don't say yes, I will cry!"

Harry's face cleared instantly and he grinned. "Can't have that can we? Are you sure?"

"Yes! You can come to mums and stay there if you want. Otherwise, as soon as this idiot wakes, we are going home. Remus' parents left him a house. It isn't terribly large, but it is his and there is room enough for all of us there."

Harry felt tears burn in his eyes for the second time in the past hour. "Thank you," he whispered.

"It was his idea," Dora nodded to her husband.


When the Healer entered the room it was quiet. Tonks had fallen into a restless slumber on the narrow bed in the corner, Teddy clasped in her arms. Harry had shed his heavy outer robes and was dressed simply in shirt and air of dark pants. He was slumped in his chair staring broodingly at the man who lay so motionless. Remus' light brown hair was liberally sprinkled with grey. There were scars on his face, a few bold, cruel ones but, for the most part, they were silvery, well healed lines, thin and narrow, still obvious, but not horrific enough to stare at. Nothing like Mad-Eye Moody's. He had asked Sirius about a particularly nasty one on Remus' face once, one of the three that was horrific to look at. It ran from his temple to below his neck, dangerously close to his ear. Sirius had gone silent for a long time before telling Harry that it was the result of the prank in sixth year. Harry hadn't been game to ask about the others after that, but, he had found out, with Fred and George's extendable ears, that the one that cut through the right corner of his lips and the one that crossed his nose, scraping the corner of the werewolf's eye, were scars courtesy of the full moon after Halloween 1981. He charmed them, when he was in public, so that they were not so visible, and, for a dark creatures expert, it was almost expected to have some marks upon your face.

He was still reeling from what Dora had said. Love. It was a strange emotion. It was something that men did not say or express, at least, that is what seemed the be the common perception in wizarding and muggle world. But, he realised, his did love Remus Lupin, the father figure, in his life. He had turned to the quiet werewolf long before Sirius had died, and he would have been shattered without the comfort after that horrible day when his godfather had fallen through the veil. They had been close, as close as you could be when you were the Boy Who Lived, and a werewolf forced to go onto underground missions. Harry spoke in a low tone.

"You better wake up, Remus. Because… because I need you, I need your help. Let alone what Tonks and Teddy needs!" his eyes dropped to the thin hands that rested limply on the coverlet. More scars. The damage on his hands was much worse than his face, especially the knuckles, where, once a month, claws burst through. This man had survived so much. He could, no, would, survive this.

Harry looked at the clock. It seemed as if that is what they always did. Look at the clock, look at Remus. Make small talk. Avoid talking about the losses. Look at the clock. Look at Remus. Harry's eyes closed. He was so tired. So very tired.

"Mr Potter?" The Healer that entered spoke softly.

Harry looked up. "Yes?"

"Has he moved? At all?"

Harry shook his head. "How long… How long do you think it will take him to wake up?"

The Healer, a young woman in her late twenties, looked away from the desperate green eyes of their saviour. "We still don't know if he will," she admitted. "The damage before we healed him might have been too much."

Harry shook his head vehemently. "He will wake!" His instance was staunch. Remus Lupin would wake up. He watched as the Healer moved around, casting diagnostic spells, using her wand to adjust the werewolf's position in the bed so he would not get sores. He had noticed, over the past nine days that they never touched him unless they had to. It made Harry angry. She spelled potions into his stomach. "I will be back soon. If you need anything call me."

Harry nodded, and, while the woman was still looking, reached for Remus' hand and held it tightly. He heard the soft intake of breathe. His point had been made.

It had been two-hundred and fifty five hours, forty-seven minutes and fifty-five seconds since Dora had returned from the Battle to her house when Remus' eyes slowly fluttered open. Teddy was awake and Harry was talking nonsense to him. Dora had just stepped out of the bathroom, freshening up as her son had decided to vomit all over her gowns. Her eyes were on her husband, a habit, and their eyes met. His green ones confused, uncertain. Hers, ever hopeful against all odds.

She cried out. "Remus! Remus!" and stumbled across the polished floor to fling herself against him.

Remus flinched at her impact against his freshly healed ribs but his arms, which shook alarmingly and felt as heavy as lead, reached to wrap around her. "Dora?" He mumbled his voice cracking. "Dora?"

Harry was on his feet, a broad smile on his face, Teddy clutched tightly to him.

Dora was sobbing, sobs that shook her entire body as she clung to him, her lips kissing his lips, his eyes, his nose, his cheeks. Every centimetre of his face.

A healer, alerted by Harry, dashed in, followed swiftly by others.

"Please move, Mrs Lupin," they ordered firmly. "We need to look at your husband."

Dora pulled back but Remus weak hand caught at hers. His eyes found Harry then and relief spilled from him. And then, his eyes caught the blue haired baby. Tears welled in his eyes. He clung desperately to his wife's hand while the healers asked him question after question, demanding answer after answer from the werewolf until they were finally satisfied. They allowed him to drink and the aching dryness in his mouth and throat eased a little. Finally they left. Harry handed Teddy to Dora before he moved to the bedside.

"Let me help you sit up," his voice was shaking.

"Harry," Remus whispered. "You are all right?"

Harry nodded. "We won," he spoke firmly, believing what countless people had told him again and again for the first time. "Voldemort is dead."

Remus eyes closed. "Thank Merlin," He whispered.

Harry gently, carefully lifted the werewolf before sliding pillows behind his back so he could sit comfortably. Before he could pull back, he found himself drawn into a tight embrace. No words were spoken, no words were needed.

Harry pulled back and wiped hastily at his face. "I am going to tell the others." He was smiling.

Dora sank on the bed as Harry ran from the room. Her eyes were devouring her husband's face. "I… I thought you were dead," her voice broke. "Oh, Remus!" She went into his arms and he clung to her, Teddy cradled between them.

"What happened?" Remus whispered. Dora made to pull back but his grip tightened. "Let me hold you, my darling, please."

She nodded and shifted Teddy between them. "What do you last remember?" Her head rested at his shoulder.

Remus frowned. Pain, he remembered pain. "Seeing you. Bellatrix…" his voice faltered.

"She was distracted. Molly killed her you know."

Remus exhaled softly. "Molly, hmm."

"You were hit by a spell…. Dolohov. Neville was there just a moment too late but he killed him, he said that you had done some damage but…" she winced. "That was when you saw me wasn't it?"

Remus didn't reply.

"I thought you were dead. You were just lying there… so still…. And I thought you were dead. It was Harry who discovered that you weren't. I was already home with Teddy…. He sent me a Patronus."

Remus processed this. "How long?"

"Ten days," Dora's voice trembled. "Ten days. Oh, love!"

Remus ran his hand through her hair. He half smiled as he saw pink strands shoot through it.

Dora pulled back. "Would you like to hold him?"

Remus' eyes dropped to his son. Despite all the commotion he was asleep. "Yes," Remus whispered brokenly. He tenderly took the baby and Teddy's eyes fluttered open. Remus cradled him close against his chest, staring into the green eyes that mirrored his own.

"His eyes always go back to that colour, he never morphs them for long," Dora whispered. She was still curled against her husband. "He missed his daddy."

A tear splashed onto the baby blanket. "I thought I would never see you again," Remus admitted. "When I left the house I thought I was going to…. I thought that I would die."

Dora hugged him tightly. "Well, you did. And we are together. And nothing is going to change that."

Remus looked into her beautiful eyes. Her beautiful, brilliant, dark eyes. "I love you," he whispered.

She smiled at him, and it was as if a ray of sunshine had broken through a cloudy day. "I love you too," she whispered before she pressed her lips against his in a long, loving kiss.

"Now," he looked down at his family. "When can I get out of here?"


It had been one thousand four hundred and sixteen hours, twenty eight minutes and nine seconds since Remus had woken up. Dora and Harry had taken Remus home less than twenty-four hours after the werewolf had woken up. They had stayed with Andromeda for a week before the cottage had been ready for them and Harry had been delighted at being, for the first time, part of a family. The Weasley's were different. Remus was the person he should have grown up with, he, along with Sirius and James and Lily should have been part of Harry's childhood.

For nearly a month Remus was wrapped in cotton wool until finally, exasperated, he had stormed out of the door with Teddy. They had proceeded to spend the rest of the day outside, Remus talking to his son, looking at the garden that had fallen into disrepair. Dora and Harry had taken the hint and family life was ruled blissfully.

There were still dark days. Not a night went by when one of the three had screaming nightmares. It seemed as if Remus was still discovering the extent of the loss, and each time Harry mentioned a funeral the werewolf would pale and turn away. Fred's death had hit him horribly and he had barely spoken for a day after hearing the news. Hearing of Snape's sacrifices had amused and yet horribly, horribly sad. The man deserved a family. Something that he would never have.

A full moon came and went. Remus' recovery was set back and he would never forget the sight that greeted him when he woke. Harry, bouncing Teddy' bouncer with his foot. A heavy book on his lap that he was diligently taking notes from. Harry, taking after his father and god-father. Harry, learning to become an animagus.

Hogwarts was being rebuilt. Stone by stone, spell by spell. The Lupins and Harry would often be found there. Helping, with countless others, to rebuild the Magical School. Remus, still weakened from his injuries, spent hours working with Ginny and Hermione to repair damaged classrooms. He organised protective spells and he found, that most afternoons, he would be teaching to a handful of his former students defensive spells, spells that cloaked, and hid, spells that strengthened and wards, countless, countless wards.

Evenings were spent together. At home. Talking. Being together. Harry, uncertain, but at peace, he was in a safe haven, permanently, for the first time in his life. Dora was happy, they were at peace, Remus was alive, they had Teddy. There were far fewer shadows in their world. Remus… Remus was alive, he had the most incredibly beautiful woman as his wife who still told him each and every that she loved him, that she didn't care if he was a werewolf, that he was her world. He had a son, a precious baby boy. And he had Harry, Harry who was swiftly filling the hole that his parents and Sirius had left in Remus' heart.

They were healing. Slowly. They were healing.