Falling
Chapter Ten: Coupling

Author's Note: So, I'm using the books as my main source because they have so much more detail. However, I'm using the films for more visual stuff like in Chapter Four. I'm also totally visualising Matthew Lewis as Neville - he just is Neville for me.

The wedding was to be a quiet affair and Jem suspected that Andromeda Tonks was not altogether impressed with her daughter's choice of husband. She tended not to linger in a room if Andromeda was the only other person in it, the air was too thick with disapproval for Jem's liking. But that made life rather difficult as Tonks had enthusiastically moved Remus and Jemima in. Neither felt particularly at home, though Ted seemed happy to have them.

"You don't mind?" Tonks ask, for the umpteenth time, catching Jem's eye in the mirror as she fussed with her hair. It had been blonde, but was now hesitating somewhere between pink and red.

"Of course not," Jem said. "All I've ever wanted as for him to be happy. If you make him happy, then that's all that matters."

Tonks gave her a wide grin and swooped down on her, hugging her tightly.

"I'll go and see if Dad needs any help," Jem said, extricating herself.

Tonks sighed happily and sat on the bed with a dreamy smile on her face.

"I do love him, you know," she said as Jem opened the door to leave. "More than anything."

Jem nodded and slipped out, almost banging into Andromeda. The older woman put her hand on the wall to steady herself.

"Sorry, Mrs Tonks," Jem said quickly. "I was just going to see Dad."

"Your father is sharing a Firewhiskey with Ted," Andromeda said, nodding her head in the direction of the kitchen.

"Right, well I'll just…"

"Jemima?" Andromeda seemed to be struggling with herself, then offered Jem a small, but genuine smile. "As we are to be family, you can stop calling me Mrs Tonks."

Jem blinked in surprise.

"Oh. Thanks… Andromeda. And it's Jem really, not Jemima."

Andromeda's mouth twitched, perhaps she was reminded of her own daughter's dislike of her given name. She nodded and went into Tonks's room as Jem went downstairs.

Ted stood up almost immediately when Jem came in.

"Well, don't you look lovely!" he said and came over to kiss her on the cheek.

Remus looked up, a slightly bewildered expression on his face, as though he had no idea how he had got there. He stared at her for a long moment.

"You look like your mother," he said at last.

Ted glanced from one to the other, mumbled an excuse and left the room. Jem slid into a chair opposite Remus.

"You do love her, don't you, Dad?" she said suddenly.

"What?" he looked up from his steady contemplation of his Firewhiskey with an incredulous expression. "Of course I love her. I'm marrying her!"

"You could look happier about it."

"And you're as blunt as your mother too," he said wryly. "The thing is…"

"The thing is she loves you," Jem said loudly. "You love her. I love you both. So stop brooding over all that other nonsense. You know, I don't know how Mum managed to get you down the aisle if you were like this back then."

"I was younger then," he said, a rueful tone in his voice. "More reckless perhaps. And marriage to your mother taught me things…"

"What things?"

"It won't be easy."

Jem snorted, "I was never under the impression that marriage was easy anyway."

Remus put a hand across the table, taking hers.

"When did my little girl get so wise?"

Jem hadn't had a proper conversation with George since they broke up, having managed only to see him in company, or avoid him completely. But she was sat alone at a table at Bill and Fleur's wedding, having dispatched Remus to dance with Tonks and when George slid into the seat opposite her she couldn't think of an excuse to leave.

"You've been avoiding me," he said.

"Hello to you too."

He laughed and pulled his chair closer. She could see his ear now – or rather, the lack of it. Remus had told her about it and from a distance it didn't look too bad. But up close – there was something so wrong and so lopsided about that it made her stomach lurch. George heard her sharp intake of breath and grinned.

"Bet you still fancy me though, eh?" he said. "Ear or no ear."

"Oh shut up," she replied, pushing his arm.

"Make me," he got to his feet and held out his arms. "C'mon, heartbreaker, dance with me."

"Don't call me that," but she got to her feet and allowed him to lead her to the floor.

"How have you been?" she asked after a moment. "I mean, apart from your ear?"

"Fine. The shop's doing well. And you'd be surprised how a curse scar drives the ladies wild."

"Mmmm, sexy."

He grinned and pulled her closer, to avoid the oncoming tango of Luna and Xenophilius.

"I thought you'd be here with Neville, you know."

"Why?"

George rolled his eyes.

"Thought you might have got together by now."

She felt her face prickling as she remembered the last time she had seen Neville, on Platform 9 3/4, before they headed home for the summer. She remembered hugging him goodbye and feeling suddenly aware of her body and his. She had left hastily, not wanting him to catch the covetous look she had shot at his hands - so large and long-fingered and exceptionally clean for someone with such a love of Herbology.

"Neville and I are just friends."

George snorted and shook his head. He tightened his hold round her waist and took advantage of her confusion to spin her round so suddenly she almost stumbled.

"You dance better with him than with me."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He stared at her, "You really don't know, do you?"

"George, you're being more annoying than usual at the moment."

"He adores you," George said simply. "He always has. He looks at you like... Well, like I used to I s'pose," he faked a grimace, a pained smile. "And you needn't worry about me. I'll give you my blessing. Anything to see you happy."

She gave him a little shove and he laughed when he saw that she was blushing. When the song finished he kissed her cheek and gave her a wink as he sauntered over to Fleur's French cousins. He turned back to waggle a finger at her.

"Don't you go breaking his heart now."

There was a soft tap at the bedroom door and Jem opened it as she carelessly tugged a t-shirt over her head. Neville had a tantalising glimpse of her pale stomach, the shadow of her navel, before she smoothed her t-shirt down and looked at him expectantly.

"Gran sent a letter to your Dad," he said.

Jem jerked her head in what he supposed was acknowledgement and sat on the bed, with her back against the wall and her knees drawn up tight to her chest. She wrapped her arms about her legs and Neville hesitated in the doorway.

"She just thought he'd want to know you got here safely."

"Thanks," Jem said finally.

She had sent a letter that morning asking to come and stay before they went back to school and had arrived almost as soon as she had received the response. She hadn't yet given her reasons and Neville wondered if she was upset about Tonks being pregnant. She had seemed happy when she sent him the letter to tell him, but perhaps now she'd had time to think about it...

Neville went over to the window, peering out at the damp garden. As he did so he caught sight of a photograph on the bedside table. Picking it up, he saw that it was of Remus and Tonks' wedding. There they were, smiling, surrounded by Andromeda, Ted and Jem.

Jem was standing beside her father, smiling a little self-consciously. She kept tucking her hair behind her ear. She had heels on - he had never seen her in heels before, always just her boots or school shoes.

"You look -" he stopped as she looked sharply at him. He indicated the photo at he added, "lovely. You look lovely."

To his surprise she smiled and reached out a hand for the photograph. She rubbed her thumb over it and sighed.

"He ran away."

"Who?"

"Dad. He panicked when Tonks told him she was pregnant. I should have known, really. I knew he was worried but I thought it was just because of everything else. But he ran away. He went after Harry, actually. Asked him if he could go with them."

"He's gone with Harry?"

"No. Harry wasn't having it. So back he came, tail between his legs," she added, with a short, bitter laugh.

Neville stared at her, he had never known her to be callous.

"Jem…"

"I'm so ashamed of him, Neville. He just left her to deal with it. He ran away, Neville. He left us," her voice broke a little. "He left me."

"But why?" Neville asked, sitting down beside her. "Why did he panic?"

"He said the baby might not be as lucky as I was. The baby might turn out more like him than I did and he couldn't bear it. I was so furious with him, I just couldn't stay in the same house," she shot him a little smile. "Thanks for having me."

"S'all right."

She ran her thumb over the photo of her father's face and asked, in a very quiet voice, "Do you think he thinks I came out wrong? High metabolism, a preference for raw meat, a quick temper at the full moon… Maybe he thinks I -"

"You're perfect," Neville breathed.

She lowered the photo and lifted her head slowly to stare at him. He was looking at her earnestly and she thought suddenly how lovely his eyes were, a delicate shade of hazel, framed by dark lashes. He placed his hand over her hand and smiled hesitantly. She glanced down. He had pushed the sleeves of his jumper up and she stared at his forearm. It was lean, lightly tanned and thick with hair on one side. But on the underside it was pale, hairless, vulnerable looking. She could see the green glow of his veins and the skin looked so soft that her fingers uncurled and inched towards his arm, wanting to stroke...

"He loves you," he said in a more normal voice.

And the moment was broken.