Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: I know this is super fast. I will stop soon, I promise. I have essays to write. It's just that JaffaBrain197's review got me thinking, and I was sat with my grandmother today when this happened:

7: Inheritance.

2006

He's starting a new job next month. This thrills him every time he repeats it to himself. He thought he would never have the luxury of handing in his notice to work somewhere else. He never thought he would land a teaching job again. Now, Lupin's days are spent with his head in a textbook, his nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if his wife will wake up if he puts his head back in the textbook.

His eight-year-old son sits opposite him, eating his way through half the fruit bowl.

"I was going to make crumble with those raspberries," says Lupin, not looking up from his book.

Teddy shrugs and finishes the last of them. "Can't you pick some more?"

"I haven't really got time, Ted."

Teddy grins. "Then you haven't really got time to make crumble, have you, Dad?"

Lupin's glance is reproachful and Teddy returns to rummaging through the bowl, pulling out the occasional Tupperware full of his father's berries, picked in June when, every year without fail, he becomes a hunter-gatherer, scouring the hedges around their garden for potential crumble ingredients.

"Shouldn't you be out enjoying the sunshine?"

Teddy nods. "Yeah. I'm ready. I'm waiting for you."

Lupin looks up and frowns. "What?"

"You said you'd take me crabbing on the quay."

"It's Wednesday? Already?" He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "OK. Can you give me half an hour? I'll finish this piece, get changed, and we'll go, all right? Sorry about that, Ted. I lost track of…well, the week."

Lupin expects his son to be satisfied with this and return to whatever else he had planned, but Teddy doesn't move. He pulls out an orange and though Tonks deliberately buys 'easy-peel' for her daughter's still chubby fingers, bites into the rind. He winces and begins to pull at the tear he has made.

"You're going to make yourself sick," says Lupin. He momentarily forgets the book in his hands and freezes, staring at his young son who is peering at the fruit, pulling each white strand off every segment with meticulous precision.

"What are you doing?" he mutters, almost inaudible.

Teddy doesn't notice his change in tone. "I'm peeling an orange. What did you think I was doing?"

Lupin's jaw drops. "Where did you learn that?"

Teddy shrugs. "This is how I always peel an orange. Why? What's wrong?"

Lupin shakes his head. "Nothing. I…my…" He trails off, fascinated.

"What's the matter with you?" asks Tonks, standing in front of the mirror as her legs lose four inches, her hips widen, and her nose lengthens. "Can I keep the blonde tonight? Would you mind?"

Lupin hums vaguely.

"Look," says Tonks, climbing into bed and pulling the duvet up to her chin, "if you're still worried about this job and you don't want to do it, just tell McGonagall you've changed your mind."

Lupin shakes his head. "Of course I want to do it. It's not that. Besides, it's too short notice." He rolls onto his side to look at her, resting his head on his upturned palm. "Do you think you can inherit a habit?"

Tonks frowns. "What do you mean?"

Lupin smiles momentarily. "How do you peel an orange?"

Tonks makes a face. "Remus, is this actually going somewhere?"

"Do you peel off all of the pith?"

"No. I cut it into four and suck the juice out. Why?"

"Ted peels all of the white bits off his orange."

Tonks nods in place of not responding at all. "Oh."

"I used to think my father was an obsessive compulsive. I've never seen anyone else do it. Not like that anyway. Not with the precision of a surgeon. Except Ted."

Tonks smiles up at her husband. "Well I think it's lovely. I mean, he's got my clumsiness and that's not something you watch and learn."

Lupin smiles grimly. "I could have been his age sitting there." He rolls onto his back and falls into silence until Tonks waves her hand and plunges the room into darkness. "He would have loved him," Lupin whispers.

Tonks takes hold of his hand, entwining their fingers, and squeezes it.

"It's just not bloody fair." Lupin laughs pathetically under his breath. "I'm forty-six and it's still just not bloody fair."

"I know." Tonks takes a deep breath. "Believe me. I know. And I know it's not the same. I was an adult. You were-"

Lupin shakes his head. "I was eighteen. I was old enough to react to it better than I did. Than I do. It's just that he was everything I wish I could be. I'm not used to looking at Ted – at anyone – and seeing my father. Just when I think I've forgotten how much I miss him, when I'm a father myself, he's there – peeling an orange across the table."

Tonks smiles wistfully. "I wish I had that luxury."

Lupin pulls her closer, holding her against him. "Oh, Dora, he is your father."

"You think so?"

Lupin raises an eyebrow, though he knows she can't see him in the dark. "Well, he's nothing like me. He's you and where do you get it from? Certainly not your mother."

Tonks laughs. "God, no."

"Well, quite."