Nymphadora Tonks Lupin lay on her bed one morning, feeling horrible. Her life, especially her marriage, wasn't going at all as planned. As happy as she was, Remus seemed miserable most of the time, and it did seem to rub off on days such as this. On top of that, Moody, her supervisor was dead, and her own father was missing and could also be dead for all that she knew. And, to top it all of, she was feeling very nauseous.
As she heaved into the toilet, she found space in her overly crowded mind to puzzle. Why did she feel bad? She had barely eaten anything yesterday (which made puking positively lovely, let me tell you); she hadn't been around anyone who was ill. She wondered vaguely if it was possible to literally worry yourself sick.
But just as she pondered that, another thought hit her like a bolt of lightening. She remembered that night, a few weeks ago. That particularly magical night. Running to her bedside, she grabbed her wand and touched it to her belly, whispering Natas Prima.
One agonizing moment passed, and then the tip of her wand glowed blue. Tonks sunk down onto her bed, all her other emotions drowning in a tidal wave of elation. She was pregnant! She was going to have Remus Lupin's baby. She could honestly never remember being happier in her whole life. She stroked her belly, imagining the baby, the child, the teenager, the adult, but always her own. Would it be a metamorphmagus like her? Or a werewolf, like Remus? It was a discouraging thought, to be sure, but they could deal with it. They had the potion, and it would probably be much easier for both of them if they could transform with each other. Werewolves always got along well with their own kind while transformed.
But worry would come later. For now, Tonks was too overcome with happiness. It was like she had taken a triple draught of Euphoria Elixir. She could imagine the baby even now, smaller than her thumb, hunched over, pale and translucent, its tiny curled-up fist no bigger than the head of a pin. She imagined, she hoped that it could feel the happiness coursing through her veins, and fed off of it.
Exactly thirty seconds after Tonks had sent her Patronus to Remus: "Come home as soon as you can, it's urgent," he appeared in their living room, wand out and prepared to attack. When nothing happened, he relaxed slightly, and saw Tonks sitting on the couch, unharmed and happy.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Everything is absolutely, positively right."
Remus blinked, wondering what would possess her to call him if nothing was wrong. When he saw tears running down her face, however, he dropped all pretenses and rushed to sit beside her.
"Dora?"
Through her tears, she gave him a huge grin, and hugged him. "Oh, Remus. I'm going to have a baby. Your baby."
It took a few moments for these words to sink in, and then Remus pounced, pressing her down and kissing with more emotion than every other time put together.
"I… love… you…" he said between hot, passionate kisses.
He kissed down her neck, between her breasts, and pulled up her shirt to rest his cheek gently on her flat stomach, getting as close to his unborn baby as utterly possible. In that moment, however impossible it might have been, Remus could swear that he could feel the magic that surrounded this fetus. A magic so powerful that it went far beyond anything any human could ever hope to control. A miracle. And in that moment, Remus, too, began to cry.
"Mine," he whispered.
"Yours," replied Tonks though her own tears. "Ours."
Remus lay like that for several minutes before rising up to kiss Tonks again.
"I love you. You're amazing."
"I love you, too, Remus. Can you imagine? A baby! We'll be parents! Grandparents, even. And we'll see them learn to walk, and talk, and eat, and fly, and call Mum "Gran", and go to Hogwarts, and get into ridiculous amounts of trouble, I'm sure, with our combined genes."
Remus was laughing. "I fear for the world. And aside from the flying, I completely agree. But really, dear, with your klutziness and my complete lack of flying ability, I'd be surprised if he or she ever got off the ground." They laughed together for a long time, and then slowly became quiet again.
"Parents," whispered Remus.
"From now on. We'll be great, you know. You'll be there to teach them sense, and I'll be there to teach them to have fun."
"Hey! I have fun!" he proclaimed indignantly.
"Yes, dear, about as much as I have sense. Which is not that much. Certainly not enough to pass on while still keeping some for yourself."
"Very well. I wish Harry hadn't inherited the Marauder's Map. That would have been great to pass on."
"I'm sure they'll get up to enough hijinks without it, don't worry. And just think: who ever they are, they're bound to be the prettiest, sweetest, smartest, bravest, strongest, cleverest, happiest, most loyal child ever. Hogwarts won't know what hit it."
"And we'll be able to watch it all and say: 'That's my kid.'"
"You betcha!"
So, I still managed to get a little bet of melancholy in there. In the words of Professor Hilbert: "Dramatic irony: it'll f#ck you every time." Review, please!