Chapter thirteen coming up! I'm sorry this is so short, it was meant to be part of another chapter but it was getting too long and I had to separate this into its own chapter.

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Remus's strength improved by leaps and bounds. All day while Hermione was at work he practised making himself corporeal. He soon managed to channel enough strength into his hands and arms to lift increasingly heavy objects. He was careful to keep his daytime activities from Hermione. He didn't want to raise her hopes too much. Obviously, his improvements were a positive thing but there was always a possibility that he would suddenly blink out of existence and return to purgatory- he didn't know how stable the Resurrection Stone was- and if Hermione knew how much better he was, if such a thing actually happened, she would be all the more heartbroken.

One morning, Hermione had left her vacuum cleaner out after having used it the evening before. After an incredible amount of exhausting effort he found that he was able to lift it and then, after another surge of strength, he began to manoeuvre it around Hermione's living room. The carpet didn't need cleaning but Remus did it anyway, thoroughly enjoying the mundane activity because it proved to him how strong he was getting.

One thing Remus was having trouble with was his dexterity. He was finding it easier and easier to lift objects but he found that he lacked the muscle control necessary to use objects in the correct way. For instance, he had no difficulty picking up the nozzle of the vacuum but he struggled to move his arm in the way that he wanted to.

Diligently, Remus practised his motor skills, using the simplest of tasks to test himself: making a cup of tea. Any human could do it almost without thought but Remus, who was reduced to a partially-corporeal, spirit-like being, understood the relatively complex set of movements required to complete the task. It involved opening the fridge and cupboard door to retrieve the milk and a cup and the opening of the cutlery draw for a spoon. It involved turning on the tap and manoeuvring the kettle to fill it with water. The hardest part was actually pouring the boiling water into the cup, stirring and draining the tea bag and finally adding the right amount of milk.

It took Remus many attempts, each physically and mentally draining, to succeed. Then, one afternoon, he felt his hands and the muscles in his arms beginning to obey him. It was a slow process that required all of his concentration and when he was finished the water was cold but he eventually had a cup of golden-brown tea sitting on the counter in front of him. He smiled tiredly and glanced at the clock, it was nearly time for Hermione to come home. He sank into a chair at the kitchen table and waited for her.

Soon, Remus heard the front door opening and closing and heard the jangle of keys as Hermione placed them on the table by the front door. He heard the sound of ripping paper as Hermione opened her post and read the letters. He heard the soft sound of her feet padding through the apartment.

'There you are,' she said with a smile as she entered the kitchen. 'Did you have a good day?'

'Yes,' he said, smiling back. 'Did you?'

She pulled a face. 'Swap the word 'good' with the word 'boring'.'

He made a sympathetic face. 'Tell me about it,' he said, always a willing listener.

'Well, I had to spend the morning-' she began and then broke off mid-sentence. She was staring at the cold cup of tea in confusion. 'Why-'

Remus stood up and regarded her with a serious, sincere expression. 'I made that earlier,' he said.

Hermione turned and gazed up at him in surprise. 'But how?'

'I've been practising a lot,' he said.

She wrapped her hand around the cup but she was still looking at him. 'So this is what you've been doing all day?'

He nodded. 'Among other things.' She raised her eyebrow enquiringly. 'I've been choosing my own books from your shelves and reading them and I've been cleaning as well.'

Her expression became unreadable. 'So… you can touch?' She said slowly, her voice quiet.

Remus reached down and wrapped his hand around the other side of the cup, letting his long fingers rest on Hermione's smaller ones. 'Yes,' he whispered.

Hermione gasped lightly in surprise and looked down to where his skin made contact with hers. He knew that she was feeling the reassuring solid warmth of his fingers. She glanced back up at him in wonderment.

'And you can feel?' She whispered.

Remus let go of the cup and raised his hand slowly to Hermione's cheek. With the tenderest of touches he stroked her skin with the back of his fingers. 'Yes,' he whispered again.

Hermione made a small noise that showed her surprise and her joy and she closed her eyes, feeling, for the first time in six years, the adoring touch of the man she loved.

They stood in the silent kitchen for what felt like a long time. Remus continued to stroke her cheek, revelling in the feeling of her warm, soft, smooth skin and then he began to stroke her delightfully wild, untameable hair instead. Hermione had her eyes closed and a smile played on her face. She seemed to content to let him touch her, seeming to realise that he needed the simple but intimate contact after their years of separation.

Eventually, Remus stopped stroking her hair and let his arm fall back to his side. Hermione opened her eyes and as she gazed up at him he saw that she had tears in them.

'Don't cry,' he said, recognising that she was happy rather than sad and he smiled slightly.

She smiled back at him and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

'I've finally got my Remus back,' she said.

Remus's heart swelled with the realisation that she was right. After a seemingly endless time of watching her from an overwhelming, metaphysical distance, he had her back. He gently pulled her into an embrace and she fitted into his arms with familiar perfection. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. He enclosed her in his arm tightly and rested his head on top of hers. He remembered, as he had done so many times in purgatory, all the moments in the past that they had stood like this but this time he was happy and secure in the knowledge that they were together again.