Remus had been staring at the parchment in front of him for so long that he was barely sure it even existed any more.

That's not good, he thought, existential thoughts before midnight. He rubbed his aching eyes and yawned, wondering whether to give up and try and get some sleep or to keep ploughing through it and sleep-in in the morning.

Giving up seemed the better option. It wasn't as if he was really concentrating anyway. He'd only really had two thoughts in his head for months – how very much in love with Lily he was, and how he could never, ever, do anything about it. Even admitting it to himself felt like treachery.

Nine years, he thought. Nine bloody years you've known her, and you don't even realise you're in love with her until she marries your best friend.

Terrific. Wonderful. Bloody marvellous.

Idiot.

He turned back to the parchment, but the words didn't seem to make any more sense than they had previously.

He'd even – it was his – if he hadn't interfered….

He stopped himself. There was no point going over it, again. He'd wasted enough nights as it was, sitting there calling himself all the names he could think of for doing something as stupid as setting James and Lily up, wondering what would have happened if he hadn't. Would they have gotten together anyway? Would something else have happened? Something with him –

He sat back in his chair and tossed his quill onto the desk as if it was the feather's fault and not his for not seeing sooner what was evidently right under his nose. While he'd obsessed about Olivia, and felt guilty about Susan, and awful about Elsa, and ashamed about Lucidia and just plain relieved to be rid of Heather, who had been the one girl he turned to, the one girl who always cheered him up, made him laugh, made him feel everything?

Rain clattered against the window, and Remus let out a huff of approval and folded his arms across his chest. At least for once the weather fit his mood. It had been howling a gale all night and now the rain was beating a comfortingly depressing rhythm on the window. He'd realised long ago that there was nothing worse than being depressed in summertime, when the sunshine shone with vindictive chipperness into his eyes and clouds skittered gleefully across the sky, just to tell him – as if he didn't already know – that the world was full of happy people, and he wasn't one of them. Depressed in the winter was much better, he thought, when the cold in his heart was echoed by the lack of rising mercury in the thermometer on his desk, and the clouds were low and grumpy, frowning along with him. It seemed especially important that the weather fit his mood tonight, when it was all his own stupid fault.

He couldn't believe – after all the time he and Lily had spent together – that he hadn't realised how he felt. But he hadn't, not until he'd run into her, completely unexpectedly, a couple of weeks before she was getting married. She'd been in a hurry – torn between too many commitments, but she'd stopped to talk to him anyway. Her cheeks were pink and her hair was everywhere and she'd laughed at some stupid joke he made, and he'd thought she looked beautiful. Beyond beautiful. Staggering, was the word he'd thought of, at the time.

And it had hit him, then, just like being slapped in the face by a bus – a bus with the words 'You Love Lily Evans' scrawled across the side in giant neon letters, and Bitterness, Despair and No Good Will Come Of This as the destination.

Over the next few months the bus had also called in at Maudlin Drunkenness, Surly Crotchetiness, Listening To Depressing Music and Sleeping With Some Girl To Try And Get Over It, but none of it had worked. Not even a little bit. The closest thing he'd felt to a momentary reprieve was the two or so minutes he'd spent unconscious on the ground in Diagon Alley after Hattie Partridge's brother had caught up with him and knocked him out.

Aside from that, it had been torture. He'd swung from being angry with himself to feeling guilty about what he felt, closing his eyes and wishing his feelings would disappear the second he opened them. But they never did, and the guilt and despair and bitterness had formed a knot in his chest that nothing seemed to dislodge. Remus had tried to reason with himself, to tell himself that if he really loved Lily then all he'd want was for her to be happy, and that if her being happy meant being with James, then he should be pleased for her. He knew that.

He really had tried, desperately, to convince himself that that was the case, but sometimes there was a nagging voice in his head that chimed in with 'you know, this is all your fault. If you'd realised sooner how you felt….'

Could he have done that to James? He liked to think not, but somehow he suspected otherwise. The knot in his chest tightened.

Remus stood, staring at his drinks collection.

There seemed to be only two options: red wine, or Firewhiskey, both of them Christmas gifts from people in the Order.

Firewhiskey was the quicker option, of course, but he wasn't sure he was in the mood for quick tonight. The slow, maudlin slide into drunkenness that would accompany a bottle of red wine was possibly more fitting his melancholy mood.

He was saved from making the decision by a loud knock at the door.

He glanced at the clock and frowned, wondering who'd be coming to visit past ten. He crossed the room, pulling his wand out of his pocket, his heart beating madly in his chest. Outside the wind howled, which made him jump and shoot red sparks unintentionally out of the end of his wand. He told himself to get a grip, turned into the thin hallway and shouted "Who's there?" at the thick oak door, tightening his grip on his wand even as he reminded himself that Death Eaters didn't normally knock.

"It's me," came the reply. "Lily."

Remus scrambled to undo all the charms on the door and wrenched it open. Lily stood shivering on the doorstep in the pouring rain, her hair plastered to her head, her robes pulled tightly around her. He reached forward, closed his fingers tightly around her arm and pulled her inside, shutting the door behind her and re-sealing the charms as quickly as he could. "What's wrong?" he said, barely able to control his voice and hide the panic in it. "Has something happened to James? To Sirius – or Peter? To anyone?"

He hated that these days whenever anyone turned up unexpectedly he suspected that something awful had happened to someone he loved, but he supposed that was only natural when every day brought news of someone meeting their untimely death at the hands of the Death Eaters or Voldemort. Lily shook her head and droplets of water fell onto the carpet, turning the pale green dark.

She smiled, and he was staggered. "Nothing's wrong," she said. "Just thought I'd drop in."

Remus let out the breath he'd been holding as relief took its place in his body, and he resisted the twitch of his arm towards Lily's shoulders and steered her by her far more friendly and neutral elbow into the lounge and next to the fire.

"You just thought you'd drop in?" he said, incredulously, regarding her as sternly as he could when he was trying to disguise how grateful he was that she wasn't the bearer of bad news. "It's dangerous. If you wanted to see me, you should have owled me. I'd have come to you."

"I appreciate the attempt at chivalry, but I can look after myself," Lily said, taking out her wand and waving it over herself until a drying spell floated around her.

"I know, but –

"You all like to feel manly occasionally," she muttered, drying the last of the moisture from the hem of her skirt.

Remus suppressed a smile. He knew Lily was as capable of looking after herself as he was, if not more so. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"James said you had girl trouble," she said. "And I hadn't seen you for ages, and I didn't have anything else to do tonight, so…."

Remus wondered if fate hated him, if he'd done something, somehow, to piss it off.

This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. The girl he was secretly in love with couldn't be here, in his living room, asking him about the girl he was secretly in love with. It was too cruel, too absurd, too hideously, comically horrific, even for his life. It was too much for it to be anything other than one, big, karmic joke. He hoped there was a deity somewhere having a good laugh at his expense.

"I'm not interrupting something, am I?" she said, glancing at papers scattered across the desk and completely misinterpreting his stunned silence.

"No," he said, shaking his head and trying his very best to pull himself together. "I was just staring into space and thinking about how I couldn't concentrate."

He gestured towards the sofa and Lily sank down, running her fingers through her hair to try and undo the damage done by the rain. Not that he thought she didn't look perfect as she was.

He swallowed. Thoughts like that were deeply unhelpful. "Do you want anything?" he said. "A cup of tea, or something?"

"Tea would be nice, actually," she said, and Remus offered her a faint smile and shuffled towards the kitchen.

As he pottered about making tea, he wondered how on earth he was going to handle this. He quickly came to the conclusion that he hadn't the faintest idea.

He'd avoided her – being alone with her, at least, because he couldn't really avoid seeing her at meetings, going out occasionally with her and his friends – for precisely this reason. She didn't know anything was wrong, and so she sat close, and chatted with him amiably, comfortably. She was friendly and warm and she made him laugh, just like she always had, but now every chuckle or smile or raised eyebrow that she elicited was like an icicle through his heart, a painful, stabbing reminder of what he'd never have.

As the kettle boiled, he shot furtive glances into the lounge, wondering if it was really her, sat on his threadbare brown velour sofa in his bay window, playing with her hair as a storm that was the perfect metaphor for his insides raged behind her.

It didn't seem real, and yet, all too real at the same time.

Remus busied himself with finding two mugs that weren't too chipped and wished he'd been a little quicker to decide on a Firewhiskey earlier.

The tea was made before he'd even come up with a vague plan for what he was going to do, and he shuffled back into the lounge, gripping the mugs desperately to keep from giving in to the urge to sprint out of the room, down the corridor and out into the rain to find somewhere to hide forever.

Offering her the handle of one of the mugs, he sat down next to Lily, wishing he had other seating options – but it was a small lounge, and apart from the desk and chair on the other side of the room, he didn't have anything else to sit on. He reasoned that if he sat there or on the floor, she'd get suspicious. They'd sat much closer than this in the past, for goodness sake.

He leant back, wrapping his fingers around the mug and trying to look like her presence didn't bother him at all. "How are you, anyway?" he said, as casually as he could muster, one foot longing to jiggle as an outlet for his rising tension. He checked the impulse, trying to seem calm and collected, in spite of everything.

"Alive," she said, raising an eyebrow at him, "which seems about the best any of us can hope for these days."

"Indeed," he said. "You know you really should have owled me. I'd have gladly – "

"Oh stop it," she said, rolling her eyes at him but grinning all the same. "I'm fine."

"What would James say if you'd been attacked and killed just because you wanted to pop in and see me?"

"Ah but if I had been killed," she said, pointing at him for emphasis, "no-one would've known what I was doing, and you'd all, naturally, have jumped to the conclusion that I died doing something desperately heroic."

"Lily – "

"Besides," she said, no doubt guessing what his protest was about to be, "you make the best tea in England. Well worth the risk."

Remus let out an unwanted relenting sigh, and Lily kicked off her shoes and pulled her feet up underneath her, turning towards him. "Tell me about this girl, then," she said over the rim of her mug, her eyes dancing with curiosity. "What's she like?"

Remus sighed and studied the ceiling. What on earth was he supposed to say to that? "That good?" Lily said, laughing softly.

"Hmm."

"So what's the problem?"

"Firstly," he said, "she's not remotely interested and so far out of my league I think we're actually playing different sports."

"Really?"

"Oh yes," he said, blowing on his tea just to have something to do. He took a sip. "Secondly, she's married."

Lily's eyes widened and then she chuckled. "You do pick them," she said.

"Yes," he said, raising his eyes to the ceiling again. "I know."

"Anything else before I offer you my pearls of wisdom?" she said, her voice a low, wry tease.

"No," he said. "Isn't remotely interested, would never look at me twice, married to someone else – " Sitting on my sofa, interrogating me about it, he thought. " – I think that about covers it."

It really was a sorry state of affairs, he thought.

Lily hummed in consideration, resting her mug on her knee and peering at him with slightly narrowed eyes as the firelight danced across her face, and through her hair, turning the red to copper, the copper to gold. He tried not to stare, because he knew if he allowed his gaze to linger for too long, he'd be absolutely captivated. "Well, assuming you're wrong about the not remotely interested, would never look at you twice part – "

Remus frowned, utterly baffled. "Er, why are we assuming I'm wrong about that?" he said.

"Because you always are," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's part of your charm."

"I have charm now?" he said, raising an eyebrow and stifling the impulse to laugh out loud at the very suggestion.

"You're about a hundred times more appealing than you think you are," she said. "If not more."

"Right," he said. "So that puts me right up there with blisters in the desirability stakes."

Lily let out a frustrated sigh, and he was left with the impression that if she hadn't had a mug of tea precariously balanced, she'd have hit him. "Anyway," she said, "assuming you're wrong about that bit, what about a torrid affair?"

"I'm not sure she's the torrid affair type."

"Well that's a shame," she said.

"Hmm," Remus replied, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. He pleaded with his brain to forget what she'd just said, to wipe the thought from existence, because really, he couldn't stand for it to be in there somewhere, hovering in amongst his other thoughts, ready to pounce when his mind wasn't otherwise occupied.

"What about you? Are you the torrid affair type?" Lily said, her mouth hitching into a half-smile and letting him know that she thought she already knew the answer, she was just waiting for him to confirm her suspicions.

Remus scoffed. "Don't I need a wife first?" he said.

"No, I mean – with someone else's – "

"No," he said quickly. Possibly too quickly. "I don't think so."

Lily raised an eyebrow at him and considered him for just a moment. "Liar," she said, barely holding in her snigger. "You're so the torrid affair type."

"What?" he said, his eyebrows leaping up to echo the surprise he felt.

"You don't want to think you are, but if you really liked someone and she was interested, you would. You'd hate yourself for it, but you would."

Remus bit his lip against a smile as the veracity of her words slowly dawned. It was true enough – or it would be, were the husband in question anyone but James. He half-heartedly wondered when she'd been paying close enough attention to him to learn how to see through him. "I'm not going to do anything like that," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes and watching reflections dance in his tea instead.

"Right. So what's your plan?"

"Extended moping," he said, letting out a slow sigh, "until I get over it."

"Well you've had plenty of practice," she said, nodding mock-sagely.

"Yes," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "I'm practically a world expert on the finer points of moping."

"You've got chocolate?"

"Yes."

"And alcohol?"

"Yes."

"And depressing music?"

"Yes," he said. "I bought something new specially."

"So you're all set, then?" she said, and he let out a quiet, nervous laugh.

"Yes," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Like I said, practically a world expert."

Remus took a long drink of tea, hoping for some kind of soothing feeling to sweep through his body. It didn't. He wondered whether if he'd forked out for a more expensive blend, it might have had more of the desired effect.

Extended moping. He rolled the thought around in his mind. It probably wasn't a bad plan. And it wasn't as if he had any better ideas. He'd tried Sirius' method, and all that had gotten him was a bruised jaw and a troubled conscience. "How long do you think it's going to take?" Lily said. "When do we get non-miserable Remus back?"

"Oh, he's still in here," Remus said, smiling slightly at the thought as he ran his fingertips over the rim of his mug, "should he be needed."

"Good," Lily said, "because I – "

Remus looked up from the chip on his mug he'd been toying with, and Lily shifted on the sofa a little uneasily, avoiding his eyes. "Lily?" he said. She glanced at him askance, her lips forming into the least convincing smile she'd ever offered him. "What's wrong?" he said quietly.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head vigorously and offering him a smile that was a touch more convincing, although not much. She leant forward and put her mug on the floor, frowning as she straightened up again. "Well…."

She trailed off, and Remus dropped his own mug onto the carpet and shifted closer, searching her face for clues as to what might be behind her unease. "Tell me," he said.

"I could just – well – if non-miserable Remus is in there," she said, gesturing vaguely at his chest, "I could kind of do with his advice about something."

"Oh," Remus said. "Ok. Fire away."

Lily swallowed, rather obviously, and then gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I don't quite know – " she started. "Did you ever have something happen – and – "

She stopped and frowned, frustrated, he thought, that she couldn't quite find the words. "What is it?" he said, his eyes searching hers entirely of their own accord for any clue as to what might be wrong. He found nothing in their infinite green he could identify but a spark of unspecified anxiety that he thought they probably all had these days.

"It's just that – " she said, and he raised his eyebrows encouragingly at her. "I'm – well, pregnant."

"What?"

Remus' eyebrows darted up in surprise. He ducked his head down to better meet her eye, his widening. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. "I'm – we're – me and James. We're having a baby."

"Are you sure?"

"I did a test last week," she said, and then rolled her eyes, smiling nervously as her gaze came back to rest on his. "And then another eight tonight."

"Oh," he said, dully. He was pretty certain his brain was spinning. "Does James know?"

"No," she said. "He was supposed to come home tonight, and I was going to talk to him – but he sent me a message earlier to say he wasn't going to make it until tomorrow. And I was just sitting there on my own and I couldn't think straight and – I just had to tell someone. I couldn't think of anyone else…."

She offered him a tentative smile, looking up at him through a couple of loose strands of hair, her eyes roving his face, seeing what he made of it. Remus didn't really know what to do, but his arms bypassed his sluggish brain entirely, and pulled Lily into a hug. "Congratulations," he said as he felt her arms settle around his waist. He closed his eyes briefly as she tightened her hold and dropped her head onto his shoulder, not knowing whether it was to arrest his surprise or something else entirely, and then quickly opened them again when another thought occurred. "It is congratulations-type news, isn't it?" he added into her hair.

"I think so," she said, shifting just a little bit closer. "It wasn't – I mean, it's a bit of a surprise, but…."

"Well then that's wonderful," he said, squeezing her tighter, surprising himself at how much he actually meant it. A baby. He wanted to laugh. Lily let out an amused sigh, which he supposed was probably one of relief, and hugged him closer. "Congratulations," he said again, in a rather more heartfelt tone.

They sat like that for a moment, and then Lily shifted, turning her face into his neck. "What do you think he'll say?" she said to his jumper.

"He'll be delighted," Remus said softly, rubbing her back gently. "You know he will."

Lily pulled back far enough to look a him, and her eyes were sparkling with relief. "Do you really think so?"

"Of course," he said. "He loves you. Very much."

He smiled at her, and she smiled back, relaxing a little in his arms as she let out a breath of laughter. "Thanks," she said, and he grinned. It was nice to know he had his uses.

"Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?" Remus said, not really knowing where the question had come from.

"I – well," she said, and then rolled her eyes. "I know I'm supposed to say that I don't mind as long as the baby's healthy," she said, as she leant forward conspiratorially, biting her lip. "But a boy, I think."

"Another James Potter," he said. "The mind boggles."

"Indeed."

Lily nestled back against his shoulder for a moment, and Remus hugged her to him. "I'm really happy for you," he murmured. "For both of you. All three of you, I suppose."

When he pulled away, Lily was grinning. She settled back against the arm of the sofa, bending her knees and resting her feet between them. "We should – I don't know – toast, or something," he said, feeling as if they should do something to mark the occasion. He reached for his mug, and Lily turned and grabbed hers from the floor, holding it out to him. "To our new addition," Remus said, and Lily clinked her mug against his, and then took a sip. She grimaced.

"My tea's gone cold," she said.

"What a shame you're not a really powerful witch who can heat things with a spell that takes as little effort as blinking," he said, rolling his eyes at her with playful mockery, and she laughed. He handed her his mug. "Why don't you heat these up, and I'll get us some biscuits."

Remus got to his feet and went back into the kitchen, resting heavily on the work surface for a moment. He took a deep breath, trying to process everything. His brain was still spinning and his stomach lurched, although why, he wasn't quite sure. He was genuinely, genuinely pleased for Lily and James.

He wished he could vanish his feelings – or obliviate himself so that he never knew they existed, forget that he'd ever had that staggering revelation in Diagon Alley – so he could just revel in some happy news properly, without feeling guilty for how he felt, without feeling the weight on his shoulders of trying to disguise what he felt, without worrying about how he couldn't bare it if anyone found out. The knot in his chest tightened at the thought, and he wanted to collapse – or scream – or cry – or do something big and dramatic to illustrate how he was feeling, how desperately he didn't want to be like this.

Of course he didn't do anything of the sort. He opened the cupboard door, moved the tea caddy aside, and selected an unopened packet of chocolate biscuits from the back of the shelf. Then he carefully closed the cupboard door, took a breath to steel himself, and went back into the lounge.

Lily looked up and smiled when she noticed what he was carrying, and he sat back down next to her, a little closer than he had been before. Lily handed him his mug of now steaming tea, and he cradled it between his knees as he opened the packet. "Well," he said, offering her a biscuit, "you don't do bombshells by halves, do you?"

Lily laughed as she struggled to free a biscuit. "Where'd be the fun in that?" she said, and then her eyes clouded with concern once more. "Do you really think – "

"He'll be over the moon," Remus said, pre-empting her question. Lily offered him a grateful smile, and then dunked her biscuit in her tea. "Where is he, anyway?" he asked, reaching for a biscuit of his own.

"Somewhere in Bulgaria with Sirius," Lily said, "investigating those whispers Dumbledore heard about Voldemort doing something with giants there."

"Oh," Remus said, swallowing half his biscuit, his brow furrowing in concern at whether or not he should be worried about their delayed return. "I don't know whether to hope they've found something or not."

"Well that makes two of us," Lily added, staring glumly at her skirt. Remus ate the rest of his biscuit and then let his hand fall onto the top of one of Lily's feet.

"I'm glad you decided to drop in," he said, rubbing it slightly. "It's nice to have some good news for a change." Lily smiled.

They chatted for a while about the Order, what they'd been doing, exchanged gossip about who they'd seen and what their news was – even talked about baby names. Lily wanted something simple, although Remus was half-convinced James would want something grand and stately. Ignacius Potter, or something.

Eventually, though, Lily's conversation got more and more interspersed with yawns, and she shot a frown at the window and the storm that was still clearly raging beyond the glass. "I suppose I should get going," she said, yawning into the back of her hand and eyeing the window with reluctance. Remus' forehead creased in a frown. He didn't like the thought of her being alone – or of her travelling alone when she had other things on her mind. Moody was always lecturing them on how half the witches and wizards he'd known die had lost their lives because they weren't being constantly vigilant, and apparently, the message had at last struck home. Remus couldn't bare the thought of something happening to Lily, especially not on his account.

"Why don't you stay here tonight?" he said. "I'll send James a message, tell him to pick you up here tomorrow."

"That sounds like a really good idea," she said, yawning. "And your sofa's pretty comfy."

"Which I daresay will be a great comfort to you when you're asleep in my bed."

"What?"

"What kind of man would I be if I let a woman – let alone a pregnant woman – sleep on the sofa?" Remus said, a little bit appalled, truth be told, that she hadn't anticipated his chivalry.

A slow smile swept across Lily's face. "You always were a sweetheart," she said, and Remus got to his feet, smiling to himself as he offered her his hand and pulled her up to join him. He showed Lily to his bedroom, casting a furtive eye round to assess what kind of state it was in and grateful that he'd at least attempted to make the bed that morning, if not clear the clutter from his bedside table.

He gestured to the aged oak chest of drawers on the other side of the room. "Help yourself to something to sleep in," he said. "Do you fancy a cocoa?"

Lily hummed her agreement, and Remus went downstairs, busying himself with making two mugs of cocoa to try, unsuccessfully, to take his mind off things, and when he returned, Lily was propped up in bed, thumbing through one of the books she'd found on his bedside table, wearing a pair of his stripy pyjamas. They were too big, and she'd had to roll the sleeves up a bit, and he sniggered when he saw her because she looked adorable, and not at all the fearsome girl who'd shouted at him so often for letting his friends get away with things he shouldn't have. She dropped the book back onto the pile and looked up at him, gesturing for him to come in. "Not to your taste?" he said, indicating the book she'd cast aside with a jerk of his head.

"Really, Remus," she said, "you're the only person who thinks an ancient book on advanced defensive magic is appropriate bedtime reading."

"Surely you didn't take me for a Mills & Boon man?" he said, placing one of the mugs down on the bedside table. Lily laughed.

"I suppose not," she said. "How do you know about Mills & Boon?"

"Heather used to read them."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Of course she did," she said. She reached for her mug and Remus leant against the doorframe, blowing on his cocoa and watching the skin that had formed on the top wrinkle. "We haven't done this for ages," Lily said.

"Done what?" he said, thinking that if she'd ever been in his bed before, he probably would have remembered it.

"Talked."

He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, and took a sip of his cocoa, even though he knew it'd be too warm. "I know," he said, cursing himself for burning his tongue. "I've been – " He swallowed. "Busy."

"I've missed you."

Remus dipped his head, unable not to smile at the swell in his heart her words produced. "Well that's nice to hear," he said, glancing up at her through a few bits of stray fringe.

"I've had nobody to bring me chocolate and listen to me whinge…."

"I know," he said. "I've been shirking my duties."

"And what about you?" she said. "Seems you've made a right mess of things without me to hold your hand."

"Don't I always, though?" he said, ruefully. "You shouldn't blame yourself."

Lily laughed, and then set her cocoa back on the table. "I should let you get some rest," he said, turning to leave. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

"Remus?" Lily's voice was unexpectedly quiet, and wavered just a little, causing him to stop as abruptly as if she'd Petrified him. "I'm scared," she said.

Remus turned back and went over to the bed, perching on the edge, just next to Lily's knee. He set his mug down next to hers, and met her eyes. They were alive with concern, and her mouth was tight and anxious, and his heart ached with wanting to make everything better for her. "Anybody would be," he said softly, nudging her knee with his in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture.

"You think?"

He nodded, and Lily smiled tentatively. On impulse, Remus leaned forward. "You will be – " he said, placing a kiss on her forehead, " – wonderful. Any baby would be lucky to have you."

She smiled, fiddling with a loose thread on his pyjama top. "That's a really lovely thing to say," she said, glancing up at him.

"So I do have my uses after all?"

"That and the cocoa," she said, leaning back against the headboard. "You know, you're really talented with beverages."

"Thank you," he said. "Maybe when the war's over I'll move to a seaside town and open a café."

"What'll you call it?" she said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Lupin's Tea and Sympathy Shop?"

"Maybe," he said, laughing. He reached for his mug and took a sip of his cocoa.

"Do you think about it much?"

"What?"

"After the war."

Lily looked up, smiling at him with wistful inquisitiveness. They didn't talk about it much, unless they were on duty somewhere and playing a game of hypothetical tonight, when they'd take it in turns to pick a pleasant scenario from a million places they'd rather be. It was an unspoken thing that they all agreed on, because they had so little cause to believe in happy endings. "Not too much," he said. "If I did I'd go mad."

Lily nodded. He wondered if he should tell her that one of the reasons he didn't think about the future much was that he wasn't entirely sure his fortunes would pick up if he did survive the war. "What about you?" he asked.

"No," she said, sighing. "God, could I have picked a worse time to get pregnant if I'd tried?"

Remus offered her half a smile and glanced up at her. "I'll give you that saddling a child with Sirius for an uncle seems a little foolhardy," he said, and Lily laughed.

"I suppose we'll need an uncle Remus to keep him in line, then," she said, and Remus' heart fluttered. He liked the sound of that.

"Well," he said, getting to his feet, "I really think it's time you tried to get some rest. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Remus offered Lily a faint smile, and then went downstairs.

He sank onto the sofa, not really knowing what to think. His mind was a cacophony of thoughts and his stomach lurched with feeling, but he forced himself to focus on practical things first and foremost. He took out his wand, closed his eyes and thought of his friends coming to find him in the hospital wing, telling him that they were still his mates even though he was a werewolf, and conjured his patronus.

He was unexpectedly pleased to see the shimmering shaggy dog. He wondered what the message should be for a moment, and then settled on:

Prongs –

Don't panic, everything's fine. Lily fancied some company so she's staying at mine tonight – why don't you pick her up from here when you get back in the morning? Let me know if you can't make it back tomorrow and I'll make sure she gets home safely.

Moony.

His patronus nodded, offering him a vague doggy-wink that seemed sympathetic to his plight, and then took off at a trot, loping through the lounge and out into the hall.

Remus settled back on the sofa and closed his eyes, longing for the release of sleep, but knowing that it was elusive at best.

After a while he got up and found himself once more staring at his drinks collection, only this time he made a swifter decision, reaching straight for the Firewhiskey and pouring himself a large glass. He took it back to the sofa and sat, cradling the drink in his lap and wondering what to make of the evening's events.

Things had changed, and he knew that his feelings were selfish, and really, truly, he just wanted rid of them.

He just needed to get over it. He'd always just needed to get over it.

Remus downed his Firewhiskey, deciding to try and get some sleep, hoping that the old adage that things always looked better in the morning would prove true. He curled up on the sofa, listening to the storm and wondering when it would pass.


Remus paced outside the bedroom door, desperately trying to summon the courage to knock. He'd been pacing for a few minutes, he thought, although it felt like an eternity. If he left it much longer, the mug of tea in his hands would be stone cold.

Did things look better? From here, it was hard to tell.

He told himself not to be ridiculous. He'd fought Death Eaters. He was a werewolf, for Merlin's sake. It was just a bloody door. He knocked softly, half-hoping she wouldn't hear him. "Lily?" he said. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," came the reply.

"Are you decent?"

"As I ever am," she said, and he chuckled at her reply and pushed the door open.

"I brought you some tea," he said, stepping into the room.

She smiled up at him from the bed, tossing the book she had been reading onto the pile on his bedside table. "You've got the most staggeringly depressing assortment of bedtime reading I've ever seen."

"Sorry," he said. "Not exactly been in the mood for anything light-hearted recently."

"I'll bet," she said. He handed her the mug, and she shuffled further away, patting the mattress beside her, indicating that he should sit. "Thanks."

Remus sank down beside her, perching on the very edge of the bed, thinking that he was so barely sitting on it he might as well have just not sat down at all. "Sleep well?" he said, trying against the odds to keep his voice light and casual.

"Hmm," she said. "Eventually."

"Eventually?"

"Hmm," she said. "I was thinking."

"Oh."

Lily didn't say anything for a moment, and then she nudged him lightly with her elbow. "You know," she said, "if I was the torrid affair type, you'd be absolutely at the top of my list."

Remus looked up. He half-wondered if she was joking, making some crack about how nice his tea was, and he met her eye uncertainly, wondering if –

She held his gaze steadily, unflinching, and the raised eyebrow or quirk of her lips as she smiled in anticipation of him laughing never came. The look in her eyes – the glimmer of tentative understanding, compassion, even – was enough. She knew. She knew what he felt.

He felt a sudden jolt of panic, a sudden urge to run from the room, but as soon as it appeared it was gone. His heart gave a brief flutter, but oddly, he didn't feel anywhere near as awful as he thought he would.

"Really?" he said, surprised how steady his voice was. "Not Sirius?"

"Nah," she said, and her lips curved upwards, just a touch, as though she was relieved by what he'd said. "Maybe for one night I'd choose him, just to see what all the fuss is about, but for something more lasting and sneaky, it'd be you for certain."

It struck Remus that – aside from some of the more ribald conversations he'd been forced to have with Sirius, this may well be the most bizarre conversation he'd ever had. He felt compelled to continue it in much the same vein. "Why?"

"I think you'd be better at it," she said. "I think you'd be good at all the angst. The recrimination and all the 'we really shouldn't do this' declarations before we tear at each other's clothes like a couple of demented sixteen year olds."

"If this is your idea of making me feel better," Remus said, regarding her archly and slowly raising an eyebrow, "it could do with a little work. The last thing I need to be thinking about right now is you tearing at my clothes like a lusty teenager."

Lily laughed, and he did too, although he wasn't sure if he was laughing because he thought that what he'd said was funny, or laughing because she was laughing, or just laughing in relief because she wasn't hexing him to hell and back. "How long?" she said, and Remus took a deep breath.

"Do you remember when we ran into each other," he said, "outside The Leaky Cauldron?" Lily nodded. "Well, that's when I realised, but I think maybe a while before that. I was just too stupid to realise it."

Lily considered him for a moment, and then slowly raised one eyebrow at him. "I could swing for you, you know," she said, her voice lilting with amusement.

"Well why change the habit of a life-time?" he said, and she laughed, drawing her knees up underneath her and resting her elbows on them. "If you're going to, though," he said, "I'd prefer you went for my left side. The right's still a bit bruised from where Hattie Partridge's brother clocked me."

"I heard about that," she said. "What happened?"

"He hit me for seducing his little sister under false pretences," Remus said. "I never did find out if it was the seducing or the false pretences he objected to most. Too busy lying on the ground moaning."

"Seducing, Remus?"

"Yes," he said. "Apparently. I'd like to say I didn't, but to be honest I can't remember if I did or not, so…. It's all your fault anyway."

"How so?" she said.

"The moping wasn't helping, so I took Sirius' advice – "

"Don't tell me you actually listened to his 'the only way to get over a girl is to get under another one' speech?" she said, shooting him a look of acute disappointment.

Remus looked away, blushing slightly. "How do you know about that?" he said, his voice a little higher than usual.

"You think he didn't try it on James?" she said. "Only James wasn't daft enough to listen to him."

"No," Remus said. "Maybe that's because James knew he stood an outside chance. Why were you going to hit me anyway?" he added, before she could do anything more than blush slightly at his words.

"Just – " Lily frowned at him playfully, and then offered him a cheeky grin that lit up her face. "Do you have any idea how much I liked you when we were sixteen?"

"Really?"

Lily rolled her eyes at his evident surprise, and Remus purposefully lowered his eyebrows. "But of course you were too busy moping over Olivia and – what was his name?"

"David sodding Reynolds," Remus supplied petulantly, wondering why, after all this time, he still just couldn't call him David Reynolds.

"Yeah, him – to notice."

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to – "

"Be a boy about it?" she said.

"Yes," he said, laughing.

Remus studied his knees for a moment, thinking that this was still easily the most bizarre conversation he'd ever had. "I'm sorry about this, too," he said, spreading his hands as if that could encompass their situation. "I didn't really mean for you to find out."

"Then you probably shouldn't have started acting all weird and avoiding me," she said. "Dead give-away."

"Yes, well," he said, "this kind of thing, not exactly my strong suit. You might have noticed."

"You do seem to have a certain flair for self-destruction and picking the very worst girl at the very worst time."

"I know," he said. "I'm hoping I'll grow out of it."

"I'm not," she said. "What on earth will the rest of us find to talk about?"

"Glad I amuse."

Remus didn't know quite how it had happened, but everything had shifted. He still thought she was staggering, and he thought he probably always would, but something had changed. It was as if he could see something beyond what he had been seeing, something bigger – the whole picture, in which his feelings – his romantic feelings for her, at any rate – were less important than everything else. Less important than her friendship and her trust, and far less important than James'.

For a second he wanted to laugh. He felt ridiculous.

Was it really this easy? Were his feelings this easy to push aside?

Then he realised – that wasn't what he'd done at all. They were still there, and they probably would be indefinitely, but – he wasn't sure he could really put it into words or even particularly coherent thoughts, but on some level he understood how things were going to work from now on.

There were two Lilys in his mind – the one who he thought was staggering, the one who could knock all the breath out of him with a glance, the one he desired, the one who had hit him like a bus. And then there was the other one – the one who had come to ask him, of all people, for advice about the most important and frightening thing that had ever happened to her. The one who was his friend – more of a friend than he ever conceived of deserving – and the one who loved James, the one who was happy, deliriously happy, with James.

And somehow, the thought of having her in his life like this was just as thrilling as the thought of having her reciprocate his feelings, and he thought that that was something he would never forget, never trade, never regret, never risk for anything.

He smiled at the thought.

"How long have you known?" he said, surprised at how amused his voice sounded.

"About ten minutes," she said, and he laughed. "I was wondering about it last night, and then this morning when I heard you pacing outside…well, it just kind of clicked."

"I really am a romantic disaster area," he said, with a chuckle.

"If it's any consolation," she said, "you only have to get it right once."

"I suppose," he said. He leant back against the headboard, resting his head against the wood and glanced at her askance. "Do you think I ever will?"

"I know you will," she said, nudging him with her shoulder. "How could you not?"

They sat like that for a moment, savouring it, or something, and then Lily let out a soft sigh of laughter. "Have you got any chocolate?" she said. "I think we need chocolate."

Remus smiled. "As a matter of fact," he said, leaning over her legs to open the drawer in his other bedside cabinet. He pulled out a bar of Honeyduke's and sat back, offering it to her. She looked at it, the bedside table it had come from, and raised an eyebrow at him in question. "I eat it in bed sometimes," he said. "Not in a kinky way," he added, and then sniggered.

"Right," she said, laughing. She broke off a piece and dunked it in her tea, and then handed the rest of the bar back to him. He broke off a suitably large chunk and popped it in his mouth, letting it melt. As he settled back, Lily met his eye and held his gaze for a moment. "I meant it, you know," she said. "If I wasn't with James – "

"But you are," he said.

"I know."

"And you're happy," he said, rolling his eyes, "damn you."

She laughed. "I am. Sorry."

"I'm going to try –" he said. "I'm going to try and not make this too uncomfortable and weird. The last thing I want is for you to feel bad about this because it's my own fault. Entirely."

"Ok," she said. "I'll try not to – I don't know, make things worse – harder for you. I suppose soon I'll be all fat and covered in baby sick anyway," she said. "Then none of you will fancy me."

"Well there is that," Remus said, glancing mock-thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "Actually, thinking about it, I've gone right off you."

Lily reached for her pillow and whacked him with it. "James will," she said. "He's contractually obliged."

"I suppose," Remus said. "Good job he married you before you got yourself knocked up. And after that lecture you gave me about always being careful – "

Lily whacked him again with the pillow. "There were extenuating circumstances," she said.

"Really?"

"There were! We'd just – "

"Believe me when I say I don't want to know."

There were some things even he couldn't stand. Lily offered him a sheepish grin, and he looked away, trying desperately to resist the urge to grin, although he couldn't quite place the reason. He looked back to find Lily tilting her head to one side, her eyes fixed on his lips. "Do you want to – " She trailed off. "I mean we could…. Just once, to see – "

Remus shook his head. "How could I kiss you just once?" he said fixing his gaze on hers. "Unless I could kiss you once and make it last forever, I think I'd rather not know what I was missing." Lily took a quick inward breath and then giggled.

"Bloody hell, Remus," she said, eyes wide as she fanned herself with her hand. "That was a hell of a line."

He sniggered. "I know," he said. "I'm quite sorry to have wasted it on you. If I'd said that to any other girl I'd be having my clothes ripped off about now."

Lily leant back next to him, glancing at him cheekily. "I knew it," she said.

"Knew what?"

"Nothing," she said, looking away, smiling to herself. "You know all this is kind of your fault. One of the main reasons I decided to give James a chance was that you thought he was all right."

"Thank you," he said. "That's very helpful. Comforting, you know. That's not going to torment me at all."

Lily giggled and elbowed him in the ribs. He dodged her second attack with the finesse of someone who'd had a lot of practice, and her face softened a little as they settled. "You will meet someone," she said. "Eventually."

"You sound pretty certain," Remus said quietly, because she did, far more certain than he was, at any rate.

"I am," she said, with playful smugness. "I can see the future."

He rested his head on the top of the headboard and turned towards her, resting one knee on the bed. "Really?" he said. "What's it look like?"

"Well," she said, pausing for a moment to study the ceiling while she thought. "We're all together at some house in the country – somewhere in the middle of nowhere – like where your parents live, and it's a beautiful day, and the war is over, and we're having a party outside on the lawn for no reason, or because it's Sunday and it's a beautiful day and the birds are singing, or something."

"Sounds nice."

"You're there with this amazing girl. James keeps sneaking looks at her and thinks I don't notice, but I don't say anything because I always flirt outrageously with you and it'd be hypocritical. No-one can really understand how you got her. Except me, because I know you're a dark horse – and she's so in love with you even you can't believe it."

He grinned, utterly captivated by her fantasy. "What else?" he said. "What about you?"

"Well," she said. "I'm all fat and pregnant again, because me and James have decided we want enough children for our own Quidditch team, and even Peter's managed to get himself a girl – although James keeps teasing him about whether he's ever going to do anything other than hold her hand."

"Sirius?"

"Oh well, he arrives late on that stupid motorbike and scares all the birds away, and tells us all he's in love. And we all laugh at him because he says that at least twice a month. Then he gets all huffy because this time he really means it, and we all laugh again because that's what he always says. Then he tells us all to sod off and storms into the house to find something to drink."

"And everything's alright?"

"Yep. You all get good and drunk in the sunshine and I glare at you disapprovingly, and everybody's happy just because it's a beautiful day and we're there to enjoy it."

It was a glorious picture, he thought, and he wanted to believe it, and yet he couldn't. Not quite.

He'd never intended to tell Lily that he was a werewolf, because she was the one person in his life who he really couldn't bear to lose because of it, but suddenly, he felt that he should. He'd never intended to tell her he was in love with her, but that seemed to have gone all right.

"I don't think I'm ever going to have that," he said, staring fixedly at a worn patch on the duvet.

"Well you won't if you're going to be all negative about it."

"No, I mean – " He took a deep breath. "There's something I probably should have told you ages ago," he said. "I'll never have that because I'm a – "

"Pessimistic misery guts?"

"No – "

"Were you going to say werewolf?"

"What?"

Remus leant back in surprise. Being about to tell her was one thing. Having her guess was something else entirely. "Were you?" she asked, raising her eyebrow at him with such commanding inquisitiveness that he wanted to laugh.

"Oh well steal my thunder, why don't you," he said. "Did James..?"

"No," she said. "Figured it out for myself years ago."

"Really? When?"

"End of fifth year," she said. "I spotted a pattern in when you couldn't do your prefect stuff – and then one night I saw you heading out of the castle, and the next day you looked wrecked, and it had been a full moon, so…."

Remus didn't know what to think. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that she had figured it out, and yet he was. "Why didn't you say something?"

Lily glowered at him playfully. "I was waiting for you to tell me," she said.

"Oh."

"Did you not wonder why I stopped shouting at you?"

"No," Remus said, sheepishly. "I was just grateful you had." Lily let out a breathy, knowing, chuckle. "I'm sorry I didn't get around to telling you sooner. I would've but – "

"It's all right," she said. "It's not like you could've just dropped it into conversation. 'Hey Lily, I'm a werewolf, pass the toast.'"

Remus smiled. "Listen," she said, dropping her hand onto his arm and giving it a slight squeeze. "If you ask me, you being a pessimistic misery is far more likely to stand in the way of you being happy than you being a werewolf."

"Well that's reassuring," he said, raising an eyebrow at her, "because I'm as likely to find a cure for me being a pessimistic misery guts as I am to find one for my furry little problem."

The retort Lily's eyes said she had planned died and she closed her mouth again, her forehead creasing in confusion. "Furry little problem?" she said, and Remus couldn't help but snigger a little.

"That's what James called it," he said.

"Oh," Lily said, eyes wide with sudden realisation. "That's what that is. I thought you had some of that African sprouting mould in your room, or something, because that's a bitch to get rid of."

Remus threw his head back and laughed until he was on the verge of tears. He didn't know if it was the lack of sleep, or the matter-of-factness and humour with which Lily had treated both of his biggest secrets, or the way she made him feel better about them both, but he couldn't help it. He laughed until his stomach ached and his eyes watered. In fact, he thought he probably would have laughed all day, had a voice not interrupted him.

"Moony?" James shouted. "Are you in?"

"I'm up here," Remus shouted, "in bed with your wife."

James started thundering up the stairs, and Remus stood up, brushing off his clothes and feeling lighter and happier than he'd felt in a very long time. "Tell him. He'll be over the moon," he said, and on impulse dropped a kiss onto the top of Lily's head.

"He'll faint," she replied, peering up at him through her hair.

"Then I'll get him a brandy," Remus said, and he gave her a reassuring smile as he passed James in the doorway. "Morning."

"Why do I need a brandy?" James said, his eyes switching rapidly between them. "You and him weren't really – "

Remus closed the door behind him, but could still just make out the sound of Lily hitting James round the head.

He went downstairs and found Sirius rooting through his cupboards, looking for something to eat.

"Morning," he said, and reached past Sirius for the brandy.

"Bit early to be drinking, isn't it, Moony?"

"It's for James."

"Why does James need a brandy?" Sirius said, helping himself to a handful of cornflakes straight from the packet.

Right on cue, James shouted: "A baby? We're having a – "

There was a resounding thud, and Remus raised an eyebrow at Sirius and poured a brandy. Sirius gaped at him and dropped the cornflakes. "They're – she's – "

"Yes."

"Oh bloody hell," he said, grabbed the brandy, and downed it.

"Why are you – "

"It's just so awful," Sirius said, reaching for the bottle.

"I think a baby is normally considered the very opposite of awful, actually, Padfoot."

"No – I mean – " Sirius shot him an imploring look. "Ah hell, Moony," he said. "We're grown ups."

Remus raised his eyebrow at Sirius, taking in his shocked expression and the pile of cornflakes at his feet. "Well," he said, "some of us are."


A/N: Many thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and I hope this one tickled your fancy. Anyone leaving a word about this one gets and early morning wake-up call from a werewolf bearing chocolate and a beverage of their choice ;).