Chapter One

Hey, guys! Well, this one is primarily set 4-5 years after the books end, though the first chapter is set immediately after. It meant to start with Ginny comforting Lupin when he's at Tonks's bedside, but I got a lot of PMs about how good Tess/Charlie was that their relationship got a bigger section. Those of you who want me to start on the Tess/Charlie fic I'm thinking of, starting PMing!

XXOO HPFG

"Charlie! I wasn't expecting you," Tess Green said. She always felt a little nervous around Charlie Weasley. He'd made no secret of his feelings for her, and while she was flattered, she couldn't make him understand that it was never going to happen. He was a sweet guy, but rather naive, especially in light of the fact he worked with Dangerous Creatures for a living. Maybe because he worked with Dangerous Creatures for a living; he was so absorbed in his work that he had no idea of how bigoted and discriminatory people could be. But she knew. She had seen her brother's anguish over the torment his wife had gone through. She wouldn't do that to Charlie, no matter how much he insisted that he didn't care.

And the trouble was, she found him damn attractive. And it hadn't helped that the first time they had met – before he'd developed feelings for her – they'd developed an excellent camaraderie. He was intelligent, charming and utterly open-minded about Dark and Dangerous Creatures.

And, alright, she'd thought about kissing him. And might have done more than just thought about it had her reflexes not been as good as they had the times he had attempted to kiss her. It had been all she could do to evade him. Which she hadn't really wanted to do.

"I came to see if you'd heard anything about Tonks," Charlie said. "I'd go myself, but I know Remus doesn't like being reminded that he wasn't the first man in her life."

Tess blushed a little. She was all too familiar with a werewolf's territorial nature; they were prone to jealousy. She didn't like hearing about Charlie and Tonks's relationship, either. "Nothing's changed," Tess said. "She's the same." She sighed sadly. "I wish there was something I could do. He was there for me when I needed him, and I can't do anything in return."

"He knows you care, Tess," Charlie said. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm glad mum killed her."

He was shaking, and Tess swallowed her irrational feelings of jealousy. "I know she meant a lot to you," she said. She touched his arm comfortingly. "Remus isn't a bad guy. If you talk to him, he'll let you see her."

Charlie smiled sadly. "Thanks, but he is her husband. And I don't feel that way about her anymore," he added pointedly. "I can't barge in on his grief when I just want to see a mate."

"Oh, Charlie. I know things haven't been easy for you. Here, let me get you a drink." Tess led Charlie through the flat to the small living room. She fixed them both glasses of firewhisky.

"Thankyou," he said. "Things aren't too good at home," he admitted. "Mum's taken Fred's death really badly. I can't do anything to help. I feel like I'm better off going back to Romania."

"That's not true. Your mum needs you. They all need you. And – I kinda like having you around," she admitted shyly. Where did that come from? she asked herself. She shouldn't be encouraging him.

Charlie's eyes went wide when she said that. He swooped in to kiss her. Weather it was the firewhisky slowing her reactions or weather she just didn't want to, Tess didn't dodge it. Despite the firewhisky on his own breath, he tasted sweet and masculine at the same time. There had been other guys in the past, but none as old as Charlie, and no-one since she had been bitten. There was no denying that Charlie knew what he was doing.

After a few seconds, she gathered her senses. "No," she said weakly. "Your mum – "

"Mum will come around once Bill and Fleur have a few kids." He had no interest in children – his line of work was too dangerous for him to feel it was morally right – but no matter how much he insisted, Molly was determined to change his mind – and see him settle down with the right woman. Of which Tess, who couldn't have children, was emphatically not. Charlie was counting on his older brother Bill, who married a year previously, to have children soon and get his mother off his case. Tess was who he wanted.

"I'm too young for you. Too dangerous – "

"You're the same amount younger that Fleur is. And I don't care about you being a werewolf. You're sweet and intelligent and I love being around you." He went in to kiss her again, his persistence paying off. She didn't really want him to stop. "Please, Tess. I'm crazy about you and I don't want to be alone."

"You'll be alone again when you go back to Romania," she said, even more weakly. "We both will be."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Charlie said resolutely. He flicked his tongue into her mouth. "I won't hurt you. You know I won't."

"I know," she admitted. She shuddered when he slid his hands down her bare arms and under her shirt.

"Tess," he moaned softly. "Tell me if you want me to stop." He pushed her onto her back so he was on top of her and pushed her shirt up. She flinched when he ran his hand across her bite mark. "Sorry," he murmured. He knew she was sensitive about it. "I think you're beautiful," he whispered. "I don't care about any of that." He took her hands and ran them down his arms, which were peppered with burn marks. "See? I can't really complain about your appearance." He started to undo the buttons on her shirt, kissing her flawless skin as he went. She shivered at his touch and brought her hands up under his shirt, sliding them over his back. Groaning, Charlie bucked against her. "You really have no idea how sexy you are," he said.

Tess tangled her legs up in Charlie's and pushed up against him. "Don't do that if you don't mean it," he said huskily. For someone who had been holding him at arm's length for months, she sure was eager enough. But then, werewolves had notoriously high sex drives. She certainly didn't seem bothered by the massive tent in his pants. Emboldened by this acceptance, he slipped one of his hands under her skirt and up the inside of her leg. He wriggled his fingers inside her panties and between her legs.

She gasped when she felt his fingers slip inside her. "Charlie!" she cried. Given that his stocky appearance made him look graceless, he sure as hell knew what he was doing.

"You like that, huh?" he asked. She nodded and, burying her face in his neck, dug her fingers into his back. "I want to make you feel so special," he crooned. I want to make you forget all about him. Her sire was a notorious paedophile and although she didn't talk about it, he must have put her through unimaginable horror when he turned her. He wondered if that was part of the reason she had held him at arm's length. He was filled with the desire to make her feel special – and send her wild with desire. "Baby, baby," he crooned as he stroked her clitoris. Their kisses got deeper, more frantic, and she rubbed her hands up and down his back faster and faster. She pushed herself against his fingers, willing him to go deeper.

"Charlie!" she cried out as she climaxed. "Charlie-Charlie-CHARLIE!"

He grinned at her. "If I'd known you were that into it, I would have tried much harder to get you to be with me," he said. He took her hand from under his shirt and brought it around to his swollen crotch. "I want you," he said simply. "Your body, your heart, your mind. All of you. But only if you want me."

"I want you," she said. She rubbed against his crotch, marvelling at his size and the way he shook with pleasure. She had no doubt that he wanted her for herself, for all of her, and not for whatever perverse desires Greyback had had. Thinking about her sire said a shudder of revulsion through her, despite her recent orgasm. "I've never been with anyone else," she admitted. "Apart from – "

"Tess, I understand. I figured as much." Although sometimes it was hard to believe she was only nineteen, her experiences in the last year had made her seem so much older. But then, he supposed he hardly acted twenty-six himself. "I'm sorry for what he did to you. I want to make you feel special. I want to make you feel loved." And he went back to kissing her, easing her out of her panties. "Help me," he said. She undid his jeans and pulled them down, revealing the fact he wasn't wearing anything underneath. "I like things to flow freely," he said gruffly. He wedged his hand between her legs in a silent request for her to spread them. "I'll stop anytime you want," he said huskily.

She was warm and wet and he had trouble staying inside her, especially given they were balanced precariously on a couch that wasn't suited to his stocky frame. But he persevered and started pumping her. It got easier when she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Jesus, Tess," he groaned. He couldn't remember being so turned on in his life. He slid his hand between her legs and started caressing her again. "Oh – sweet – Merlin!" he cried. She rubbed her legs up and down his back, and he was forced to abandon all restraint. Yanking her head to one side, and sank his mouth into her neck, fuelled by the sudden desire to mark her for his own. He felt her tearing at his shirt and struggled out of it. She raked her nails down his back. Moaning, he pumped her harder and faster before thrusting hard into her and spilling himself inside her. "Sorry," he mumbled apologetically. "I didn't mean to be that rough with you."

She clung to him. "It's OK," she said shyly. "I liked it." She ran her palms down his back and felt the stickiness from where she'd drawn blood. "Sorry, I'm getting used to my own strength."

"How about you rub it better?" he asked cheekily. "Or even better, take a shower with me and do my back."

She frowned. "I'm really sorry, Charlie. I just got lost in the moment, and – "

"Tess, Tess, stop," Charlie said, laughing. "I like it a little rough. I wouldn't be in my line of work if I couldn't take a bit of pain. I loved Tonks, but she used to be so frustrating, how she didn't like it very rough. Sometimes I wonder how she was ever happy with Remus."

Tess frowned. "Don't talk about her," she said, more snappishly than she'd intended.

Charlie grinned at her. "Don't tell me you're jealous," he said, a trifle smugly.

"Of course not!"

"You are!" he insisted, pleased as punch at this development. "You don't like the idea of me having been with other women."

"It's immaterial to me how many women you've been with," Tess said icily, wriggling underneath him to get out.

He kept her pinned under him and kissed her possessively. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's natural. I know you guys are kind of territorial. Honestly, I'm flattered. I didn't realise you liked me so much."

"How am I supposed to not like you?" she asked crossly. "You look at me like I'm like you."

"Like me?"

"Whole. Pure-blooded."

He kissed her forehead chastely. "You know I don't care about that. But I am crazy about you. I've never met someone like you. You look at me like I don't have all these burns. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're gorgeous. Now come on. I want my back done."

And so Tess found herself swept up, at least for the moment, in Charlie's enthusiasm.

"Charlie finally grind you down? You're glowing," Remus Lupin teased his pack-sister.

Tess blushed. "He came over to ask about Dora and well, one thing led to another. I know it has to end when he goes back to Romania. But he makes me feel so special. Remus, and... I miss that. I want to enjoy it while I can."

"You don't need to be so defensive, Tess. You know I like Charlie. He's the most open-minded pureblood that I know. And he's crazy about you. Enough to defy that mother of his."

"Molly won't be happy."

"Molly won't be happy because she's got her heart set on dozens of grandkids. Once Bill and Fleur have a few kids, she'll get off his case."

"That's what he said."

"Besides," Lupin said cheekily. "If you and he get married, that will make his Teddy's uncle."

"Remus! I can't believe you'd think of such a thing! How's Teddy doing, anyway?"

"He's still not eating. I'm really worried about him. And I miss Dora like crazy." Lupin raked his fingers through his hair. "And Andy's on my case all the time. She blames me for what happened."

"How could she possibly blame you, Remus? It was Bellatrix who did it."

"If I hadn't married her, I wouldn't have gotten her pregnant and she would have had her full strength."

"You can't think like that. Teddy needs you," Tess said supportively. "Remus, I wish there was something I could do."

He squeezed her hand. "I appreciate your concern. It's nice just having someone who cares. But there's nothing you can do and I'd rather be alone with him."

"Tess, come to the funeral, please," Bill Weasley pleaded. Tess was his sort-of pack-sister by dint of the fact that he wasn't a 'real' werewolf, but he knew that if Charlie had his way, he would be his sister-in-law. If Charlie had his way. Tess was reluctant to let their relationship become anything more than just sexual.

"Your mum never liked me, she wouldn't want me there," Tess said flatly. She wasn't that surprised that Bill had come to plead the case. Charlie had already begged her, and when that had failed, he had gone to the next rung up the ladder of authority in the Weasley family – who was now the head of the family.

"She only didn't like you because she's mad about grandkids," Bill repeated Charlie's claim. "Charlie's been telling her for years that he doesn't want children and it was about as effective as talking to a brick wall. It didn't become a reality until you came along. And that's just it, Tess. It became a reality because Charlie's crazy about you. I've never seen him like this about anyone. You make his relationship with Tonks look like a schoolboy crush – sorry," he added when he saw Tess scowl, although he wasn't particularly sorry. Her reaction to hearing Charlie's ex mentioned was a sign that she cared deeply about him – enough to be jealous of any other woman that had been in his life. "Please, Tess. He's been so happy for being with you. Mum would have seen that eventually. Are you really going to hold onto whatever misplaced feelings she held against you when he needs you there?"

Well, how could she possibly say no to Bill when he put it like that? Besides, he was her sort-of pack-brother, and had looked over her during her first few full moons when Lupin had been unable to. She owed him a lot – his mother's funeral was peanuts compared. "OK," she said, albeit very grudgingly.

Tess was sitting in Charlie's lap, his head bent into her shoulder. Bill couldn't tell from his vantage point if he was crying or not, but it was easy enough to tell from her body language that, despite her willowy frame against Charlie's stocky one, she was the strong one at the moment – and physical strength had nothing to do with it. (Although Bill had no doubt that she could flip her twice-her-weight boyfriend like a ragdoll if the inclination hit her.) It had been obvious at the funeral, when he had been holding her hand tightly.

She was good for him, Bill reflected. They had something there had Charlie hadn't had with anyone else. And he cared about as much about her lycanthropy and her age as much as he would if those factors didn't exist. Even though right now she was clearly the strong one in the relationship, it was just as clear that they were in sync with one another. They had something that he hadn't had with Tonks – in fact, come to think of it, that he hadn't seen between Tonks and Lupin, either.

Bill hoped that Tess could get over these insecurities she had about her age and, far greater, her lycanthropy. She seemed to feel the bigotry towards half-breeds even more than Lupin, if that was possible, perhaps because for eighteen years, Tess had basked in the glory of being a beautiful, talented human witch – albeit a muggle-born. Having experienced that glory, she was all the more aware of the discrepancy between that and being a half-breed. Which maybe made it all the more difficult for her to accept that Charlie was crazy about her.

Or maybe, Bill thought dryly, Charlie just needed to doggedly pursue her and wear her down the same way Tonks had done with Lupin.

"Ron," Bill said quietly enough that Tess couldn't hear him, "sleep in the living room tonight."

"What?" Ron squawked indignantly, understanding immediately that the request was coming from Bill's intention to have Tess stay the night. "Make her sleep in the living room."

"Lower your voice," Bill said quietly; it was only the fact that Tess was so focused on Charlie's grief (which, Bill thought, was a good thing, if for a tragic reason) that she hadn't heard Ron. "Tess won't sleep in an open room. She'll go home and Charlie needs her. And don't start up about Hermione. Tess needs to feel welcome here – and wanted – far more than Hermione does."

Grumbling, Ron had to concede that. Their parents had accepted Hermione as one of the family – as they had Harry – back in first year. Whereas Tess clearly had some deep-rooted issues about her sense of belonging. It was the bane of their relationship; Charlie was always complaining about how Tess couldn't – or wouldn't – understand why someone would be crazy about her. And Ron figured that if that was what he heard, then Bill heard it a lot more. Ron had never understood that mentality – Lupin was the same. They were both terrific people, and for someone who had been raised by such open-minded parents, he was truly baffled by both Tess and Lupin's steadfast conviction that no-one could want them, let alone love them.

Lupin tensed to feel a small hand on his shoulder. He had been so lost in the presence of his wife – if you could even say she had a presence – that he had been completely oblivious to anyone entering the room. And given that he had a werewolf's sense of hearing and smell, that was saying something. "It's just me, Ginny," a gentle, feminine voice said. "Ginny Weasley."

It took a few seconds for her words to penetrate through his grief-stricken mind. "Oh, God, Ginny, your mum's funeral," he said. "I completely forgot. I'm so sorry."

"It's OK." She didn't take her hand off his shoulder. "She'd understand."

"No, it's not OK," he said. He had been there after her father had died two years ago, more so than any other Order of the Phoenix member – except her mother, Molly, of course. It had seemed natural, since he had taught her and three of her brothers (four, actually, but the Weasley family hadn't been on speaking terms with the middle child Percy at that point) and had a good, mentor-esque relationship with them. And he'd had every intention of going to Molly's funeral following her death in the weeks shortly after the war – killed by Narcissa Malfoy in retribution for Molly's defeat of Narcissa's sister, Bellatrix. (What Narcissa had been thinking, Lupin wasn't sure; she and her husband had been spared the wizard prison Azkaban because of Narcissa's eleventh-hour betrayal of Lord Voldemort, which she had promptly nullified by killing Molly.) But he forgot so many things these days; it all came back to his wife. Nymphodora Tonks, whose mind appeared to be blasted out of existence by her aunt, Bellatrix LeStrange. She was lying in a bed at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, looking as if she were asleep – deeply asleep – when in fact no amount of stimulation had been able to rouse her for weeks. He had sought her mind using Legilimency and found nothing. It was as if her body was alive but everything that made her – her mind, her soul, her essence – was switched off.

And it was all his fault. If he had insisted that she not fight at Hogwarts, she would still be here in every sense of the word. She had been too weak from giving birth to their son Teddy, her instincts off-balance. If she hadn't been there, Bellatrix wouldn't have had her in her sights. And now – now he was married but not married to a woman who might wake up tomorrow as if nothing had happened... or spend the rest of her natural life half-alive like Alice and Frank Longbottom were spending the rest of their natural lives half-aware.

So Ginny understood why Lupin had forgotten about her mother's funeral. "I understand," she said. Since she had become good friends with Neville Longbottom and understood the condition his parents were in – and would be for as long as they lived – she had some degree of understanding as to what Lupin was going through. The centre of his universe wasn't gone, but not quite there either.

"I promised your mum I'd look after you," he mumbled.

"If you're as good a mentor in seventh year as you were in second, I'm sure you'll do an excellent job."

"Of course," he said. He had half-forgotten his offer to return to Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft the following school year. He had taught there four years ago, but been forced to resign after it had been discovered that he was a werewolf. The new Headmistress Professor Minerva McGonagall had made it clear she didn't give two hoots about his condition – with one exception, he had kept his lycanthropy in check the last two years with Wolfsbane – and that any parent who did could send their children elsewhere. Now was not the time to start banging on about blood- and human-status. And Ginny, as the youngest of the Weasleys, would be returning for her last year. "But I thought Bill wanted you to go to Beauxbatons." Bill was her oldest brother, and the head of the Weasley family now, through both age and practicality – second brother Charlie loved his work with dragons too much to ever leave Romania for long enough to see his youngest siblings through adulthood, third brother Percy still mending his fences, and fourth brother George too deep in his grief over his twin brother Fred's death.

"No, Fleur wanted me to go to Beauxbatons," Ginny corrected him, naming her sister-in-law, married to Bill. "I threatened to drop out altogether if I went anywhere but Hogwarts."

He laughed in spite of himself. "Good. Hogwarts needs people like you."

"Hogwarts needs people like you," Ginny informed him.

He laughed hollowly. "If you're thinking I'm going to try killing myself, don't worry. I'd never leave my son to be raised by a Slytherin-educated Black, even if he is his grandmother. And even then, I'd be too scared of Pomona and Minerva hauling me from the dead for allowing such a thing to happen." Ginny repressed a grin at that. Professor Pomona Sprout of Hufflepuff House and Professor Minerva McGonagall of Gryffindor, who had been House Mothers to Tonks and Lupin respectively, would shudder at the thought of one of 'theirs' being raised by a Slytherin. Andromeda Tonks might be the most open-minded and tolerant Slytherin in living memory, but she was still a Slytherin, and no-one but Andromeda wanted Teddy to be raised by Andromeda.

"But you must feel so lonely... be so lost," Ginny said. Her own grief at her mother and brother's recent deaths, but she was still sensitive enough to know that his was deeper still. Not to mention deepened by the guilt he felt over how much of his one-year marriage he had spent running away.

And now he couldn't take it back.

"I wish it had been me," he said flatly. "I wish she had listened to be when I told her she was too weak to fight. I wish she was still here and I could tell her how sorry I am and how much I love her and that I'll make it up to her. But I can't – she'll never know – she'll never know how much I love her – how much I need her..."

He was crying now, great, heaving sobs. Despite the fact he was old enough to be her father and had once been her Professor – and would be again – she wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind. He seemed to welcome the embrace like an anchor tethering him to land in the face of a cruel sea of loneliness, and gripped her wrists tightly, as if she would withdraw if he didn't. "She must have known," Ginny said soothingly. "She was crazy about you and she was too intelligent to delude herself that you returned her feelings if you didn't. She knew you loved her... she did."

Lupin seemed to take comfort out of her words. She slowly felt his body still and his tears quieten. Then she sensed another presence in the room behind her – and knew instinctively who had that kind of presence. That regal, commanding presence that could be no less intimidating than her older sister's despite having a firm grip on her sanity.

Andromeda Tonks.

And she was looking at Ginny and her son-in-law in such a way that made Ginny feel as if they'd been caught in bed together – and by his wife's bedside, no less – and not just someone giving comfort to someone that she cared about.

Ginny jumped away as if Lupin's skin burned her. Lupin snapped his head around, his senses kicking in after Ginny's – ironically, since he usually had superhuman senses and would have sensed Andromeda before Ginny had he not been so lost in his grief. "Andromeda," he said, suddenly feeling very guilty, even though he hadn't been doing anything wrong – hadn't even instigated his embrace with Ginny. Although Andromeda wasn't to know that... and she wouldn't have thought any better of him even if she had. Lupin had felt intimidated enough by her when she had been Andromeda Black, the older cousin of his best friend Sirius. As Andromeda Tonks, his mother-in-law, she had been icily, steely cold in her disapproval of him.

And now she had caught him in the arms of another woman. And she would never believe that it was perfectly innocent and that he hadn't even instigated it... because she didn't want to believe so highly in him. "Ginny, I want you to go," he said with a forcefulness that belied his quiet tone. Ginny nodded and left, clearly pleased to be as far away from Andromeda as she could get. Andromeda didn't make it easy for her, forcing Ginny to squeeze past her to get through the door. It always amazed Lupin as to how such a physically slight woman as Andromeda managed to take up most of a doorframe and force another fairly slight person to squeeze past.

"You didn't need to make the poor girl feel like a whore," Lupin said coolly. "We weren't doing anything."

"I didn't say you were," Andromeda said with a haughty sneer that could have rivalled Bellatrix's. "You brought it up. What was she doing here, anyway? She and Dora aren't exactly close."

"She came to see me. I forgot her mother's funeral."

A guilty look flashed Andromeda's face. She, too, had forgotten about Molly's funeral. She and Molly had been reasonably good friends, with children of close age. She had meant to go, but like so many things, it had slipped her mind. She had thrown herself into her old job of Healer and her new position as Head of St. Mungos, paradoxically to fill her time and distract herself from her grief and to be constantly close to her daughter. "You should go," she said.

"I'll drop by The Burrow later. I need to be here right now." And he turned back to his wife, lost deep in thought for a while. Then he said, "I'd trade places if I could."

Lupin had a way of getting so lost in his thoughts that when he spoke, it was like a door slamming. "Pardon?" Andromeda asked.

"I'd trade places with her if I could. And not just because of cowardice, although that's part of that. It's always easier to leave than be the one who's left behind – I'm sure you know that," Lupin said. Andromeda had given up her high standing within the magical community to marry a muggle-born, loved Ted enough to give that up, and been very happy for nearly thirty years. "She'd be a better parent than me. He needs her more than he needs me."

For the first time since they had announced their marriage, Andromeda was actually a little sympathetic towards her son-in-law. She had never doubted her choice in marriage and refused to let Ted have cause, either. They had been strong in their love, and that strength had enabled them to face the world. Perhaps her daughter and son-in-law would have had that strength, too, but now they were divided... perhaps forever. "You're a good dad, Remus," she said, albeit a touch grudgingly.

"I can't even goddamn feed him properly!" Lupin yelled.

"There's more to being a parent than just feeding him, and there's more to feeding him than nursing him," Andromeda said. "For the love of Merlin, man up and be a father before I take him away from you."

That seemed to jolt Lupin out of his pity-party; he may have doubted his ability, but he still preferred himself over Andromeda; Andromeda could have him on the full moon. "I'm sorry, you're right," he said. "He deserves more than my pity." He reached out and took his wife's hand in his. "I'm going to make it up to you. If I can't be a better husband to you then I'm going to be the best dam father Teddy could ask for."

"Remus, come in. I thought you'd be by."

Lupin smiled guiltily at Bill Weasley. "Ginny told you?" he asked. Bill nodded sagely. "Nothing happened," Lupin said, defensive as a guilty schoolboy. "I was just upset and she was trying to comfort me and – "

Bill held out his hand in a stop motion. "Please, Remus, I ought to be insulted that you think I'd think so little of you. As if you'd conduct an affair – with someone young enough to be your daughter – who's you pack-brother's sister – at your wife's bed-side – c'mon, mate, give me a little more credit."

Lupin smiled ruefully. It had been a long time since someone had thought so highly of him that they'd be insulted if he gave them so little credit. "How is she?" Lupin asked.

"A bit rattled. Andromeda can be... formidable. You can go and see her if you want. Her room's just through the hall."

"You managed to give her her own room?" Lupin asked. The Burrow had hardly been a mansion, but it had been a sprawling estate compared to the cosy-but-small five-bedroom Shell cottage.

"Percy stays at his own flat," Bill said. Although he had made amends with his family in the final battle, the hurts were still to raw for Percy to live with them, and he had the tact to know it. Better for him to ease his way back in. "Ron's in with Charlie, although he's with Tess so much he's hardly here. And George has the other room. He doesn't gel well with others. I think eventually he'll go back to the joke-shop."

Lupin nodded. It made sense. George was lost without his twin, but he would eventually find his way again and continue on with the joke shop he had started with his twin, both for himself and Fred's legacy. "I'm sorry I forgot the funeral," he said.

"It's fine. I can't imagine what you're going through. No-one blames you for it. And if you want to make it up to us, keep an eye out on Ginny next year."

Lupin smile wryly. "That's what Ginny said."

He made his way to Ginny's bedroom and knocked tentatively. When he heard a come in, he pushed the door open. "It's only me," he said. "I just wanted to apologise for what happened today." With a sense of balance that only a half-breed could have, he balanced Teddy's bassinet in the crook of one arm and placed a large slab of chocolate and an exquisite bunch of flowers on her dresser.

Ginny's eyes went wide when she saw the extravagant gift – something her parents had barely been able to afford at birthdays and Christmas, let alone as an apology of something they hadn't even done. "Remus, I can't accept these. It's too much and I – er – " she fumbled with her words. Everyone knew the dire financial straits Lupin was normally into thanks to his unemployability – at least until now.

"You know I'm dirt poor?" Lupin offered. He found himself chuckling when Ginny turned away, blushing. She looked so genuine and sweet, despite the tragedy that had befallen the family. "I have more money than I know what to do with. I have access to all of Dora's savings – about fifty thousand Galleons – plus the rent on her flat, plus the rent on mine 'cos I'll be living at Hogwarts or staying with Andy, plus my income. I've lived too frugally for too long to have a clue how to use the money so I may as well spend it on others. And I wanted to apologise for the way Andy treated you."

"It wasn't your fault. And I can kind of understand why she was angry. I wouldn't like it if it were my daughter and son-in-law."

"That's what I like about you, Gin. You're always understanding where the other person is coming from. I hope I have more students like you next you. We could deal with your kind these days."

"Glad I could be of assistance," Ginny quipped. Impulsively – and because her brother wasn't about to come barging in – she took his hand. "You are cherished more than you know, Remus," she said softly.

He squeezed her hand back. "That means more to me than I can say," he said gratefully.