Elodie toyed with the idea of going to Platform 9¾ the next day, but decided that she didn't have any reason to be there, and it might be awkward for the few students who did recognize her. Instead, she spent nearly the entire day at the library, looking at magical reference books in preparation to borrowing a targeted few about obscure defensive magic spells. She hadn't told Remus, because she was very restless, this particular full moon, and she didn't want him to sense anything in her.
The truth was, she wanted to have this week over and done with. She was anxious about so many things, and she couldn't do anything about them, not for a long while yet. She was haunted by the time Alastor Moody was going spend locked away. She couldn't remember how long it would be until the Goblet of Fire would spit Harry's name out. She wanted to move into the house and be settled, instead of all of this waiting, even if the wait was only for one more week. Worst of all, she felt stupid for wishing the full moon were over faster, because she just flat out missed talking with Remus.
If Elodie was honest with herself, though, that wasn't what bothered her the most this particular week. Molly's hug had reminded her what it was like to have physical affection from someone. She really missed that; even though she'd lived alone, she had had friends, in her old life. She missed them, but something about living in the UK made it feel like she had just left them behind in favor of a long vacation, or something. She was finally realizing just how much she missed those friends, and the hugs and casual hanging out kind of touching they'd done, arms slung around each other when talking, or falling asleep on each other's couches while watching movies late at night.
Here, she had Albus as a friend (though he was more like a non-terrible mentor, really) and Remus. Complicated didn't even begin to describe her friendship with Remus. She felt both relaxed and cautious around him, all at the same time. Even though her list-making mind could fill a parchment with a catalogue of the times they'd touched, most of them were incidental or comforting, and even when they were the latter, each was very situational. So situational that right now, when Elodie felt like she needed to seek out her closest friend and just ask for a hug, she didn't feel like she ought to. Not because Remus wouldn't have gladly offered to, but because she knew the closed-off, shuttered way he'd probably look if she asked.
In an awful way, Elodie wondered what would have happened if Sirius hadn't mentioned any memory spells, that day when the fairy had drugged them. Would Remus be so averse to any hint of romantic involvement if he'd remembered what it had felt like when they'd been tricked into thinking they were involved? Couldn't they have dealt with the inevitable week or two of awkwardness and come out the other side?
As a result of all of this soul-searching, she hid in the library, dragging lightweight reading to book chat and superficially talking to everyone, hiding the odd sort of physical loneliness she was experiencing. In the very back of her mind, something told her that Sirius of all people would understand the problem. He'd probably be fine with her needing to just… lean up against someone sometimes, without there being some fear that the implications of that lean could someday, down the road, in the wrong circumstances, bode poorly for Elodie.
Remus was his own kind of distracted, packing up his things and, he'd told her, sorting through them so he'd know what he wanted to have out in the living room area, and what he'd keep in his bedroom. She listened to him telling her about the books he'd been going through, and she tried to let their easy camaraderie substitute for what she needed. Unfortunately, Remus seemed even more stand-offish than usual, which made sense, as it was the full moon week, after all. The day before the full moon, during their book chat, they shared the bench in the shade, again. Elodie laughed at something Remus said about the sort of books he'd bought as a teenager, and she leaned her head over to rest it on his shoulder while she laughed. Remus stiffened, and while he didn't move away, he stopped laughing with her.
She tried not to react, since she knew his reasons for not being affectionate were probably myriad, not the least of which might have been his werewolf senses that particular week. He still noticed her disappointment, though.
"Everything all right?" he asked her a few minutes of silence later.
"Hmm? No? Just reading," Elodie said.
"You're not, though. You're looking at the page, but your eyes aren't moving along the words," Remus pointed out.
Elodie set the book down, not bothering to hold her place. "You're right. I'm distracted today, that's all."
"Can I help?" Remus offered.
Without meaning to, Elodie barked out a rough laugh. "No, you can't."
He did help, though. He brought up something to talk about, even though later that night, Elodie couldn't remember what it had been. He'd made her laugh again, too.
Somehow, though, she still felt completely awful. Then, she realized what was bothering her: she was hung up on the way he'd touched her, the last full moon. Not just the way he'd made her feel before he'd left, either. The way he'd acted that night, asking her about the spell, removing the anklet, holding her steady against him as she had leaned up and kissed his cheek.
A thought came to her, as she lay in her bed, revisiting those memories. A perilous (unworthy, insidious, unfair) thought. The basis of it was the way Remus had basically given her a pass on using that speed-up curse on his Wolfsbane, because he'd found out about it right before the full moon. He'd only taken the time to talk to her about it later, when they were both calm. The angry reaction she'd been expecting from him had been almost entirely diffused by the timing of his discovery.
What if she just went and asked for a hug, before the full moon rose?
The more she thought about it, the more tantalizing the idea became for her. He would certainly want to make her feel better, she reasoned. Remus was a kind, generous, and careful friend. He'd hate to see her suffer for the lack of anything, even if it was something he was unwilling to offer ordinarily. But would he really be angry with her if she chose to ask him for something like a hug, for some closeness? Especially if, shortly afterwards, his transformation was greatly eased due to something she had done for him, his Wolfsbane?
Elodie had tried to forget the idea by rolling over and telling herself very strictly to go to sleep. When she woke up the next morning, the morning of the full moon, though, it was the first thing she thought of.
What would be the harm in just… going out there, an hour before-a half hour before, and just asking for a hug? Surely that is not the end of the world?!
The thought clung to her, and she actually rolled back over, that morning, and fell back to sleep, missing breakfast. She dreamed that she'd gone down to the cellar, and walked up to Remus, who had been chained to the wall. In the dream, Elodie had asked Remus to hug her, and he'd held her close, his hand in her hair, heartbeat under her cheek, until the transformation had taken him.
Elodie woke up with the sense memory of claws tangled in her hair. She had real tear tracks on her face.
Instead of going to lunch, Elodie Apparated to the library. Destination, Deliberation, Determination, she told herself right before she cast the spell to Apparate. She knew exactly where she was going, she knew just how to get there, and she was determined, all right. Determined to avoid Remus, certain she'd be full of anxious embarrassment. It seemed too ironic that this was all over a simple hug, not even the technicolor memories of kissing him, her body pressed against his, with her hands buried in his hair.
She arrived safely outside the library, her books to return still safely carried in the conjured backpack she'd put on before she left.
Though she walked back, the sense of triumph and accomplishment she felt was quite gratifying. She walked from the path into the courtyard and into dinner, hanging the backpack on the back of her chair before she sat down.
"What happened?" Remus asked her when he came back to the table. She hadn't even realized it was his table, and the casual way he spoke to her as though he had been a constant companion throughout the day made her laugh.
"I Apparated to the library," she told him, grinning. "I didn't even throw up!"
"That's amazing!" he said to her, his fork paused in midair as he grinned. "Clearly all in one piece, or I'd have been able to tell," he added.
"You sense injuries?" she asked him quietly.
"Blood, yes."
"That makes sense." Elodie looked around to see that there were few residents still eating; their table was empty but for them. "I'd meant to ask you before, do you have memory issues on-on the last… on today?"
Remus looked at her speculatively. "Yes, a few," he said, his eyebrows knitting together as he clearly tried to figure out why she was asking. "It's not something obvious."
"Is it related somehow to the potion? Or possibly the way your eyes change?" Elodie pressed. Now, he looked a bit alarmed, and she rushed to reassure him. "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, I was just thinking about the last time, and there was just something about it-"
"The way my anger about your spell acceleration was essentially dispelled," he guessed.
"For the record, I'm not complaining about how that went," she said, holding her hands up. She mentally commanded herself not to blush. "It did make me wonder about the potion effects, though."
"Let's put these things away, and I'll show you the cellar," Remus said, standing. Elodie knew this was a way of getting them some privacy during such a sensitive conversation, so she nodded, and helped him clear the table of their dishes. She slipped her bookbag onto her back, and they walked out into the courtyard, where Remus directed her a gravel trail on the opposite side of the courtyard.
Remus looked around before he finally answered her earlier question in a quiet voice. "The truth is, the potion doesn't affect the wolf as much as it affects me. Think of it this way:" he said, holding up his hands, as though praying, then separating his palms so his hands were an inch apart. "My right hand is me," he said, shaking it for her. "My left is the wolf." He collapsed his hands so that they were both palm down, the right atop the left. He then lifted his right hand up to his chin, while lowering his left hand to his waist. "This is me, normally. Hardly any connection, if at all."
Elodie nodded, fascinated.
"As we near the full moon, about when I would start taking Wolfsbane, I feel more connected to the wolf." Remus's hands neared each other, the right still hovering over the left. "Without Wolfsbane, this week is a bit more chaotic. More like-" and here, he resumed the prayerful stance, hands almost touching. "With Wolfsbane, I have more control." His left hand retreated down while still pointing skyward, his right retaining dominance. "Then, tonight, the closer to the actual full moon-" Remus raised his left hand, pressing it to his right and interlacing his fingers.
"I think I understand," Elodie said. "So without the potion, the wolf is more dominant, even though you're in charge, until you shift."
Remus nodded.
"With the potion, it's still there, under the surface, but not as prominent?"
"Yes, with an odd sort of exception." Remus stopped their slow ambling walk, showing her a small shed and changing the subject a little. "Inside here is a staircase to the basement. Winnifred has some very interesting wards set. Humans can't enter the staircase, for one thing. She has some complicated spells set to activate at a wand tap. I needed them, last time."
"I was surprised to see you so close to the full moon, last time," Elodie told him. Right now, they had just under four hours.
"That's the exception I mentioned. The wolf is… impulsive, we'll say," Remus said, leaning up against the sturdy looking wall of the shed, facing her. "Despite the power of Wolfsbane, it's not fully effective until I'm shifted. It's as though the wolf becomes adjusted to it in my human system after a week's worth, but then, once in wolf form, the balance of power is flipped again."
"Back to right hand ascendancy?" Elodie suggested.
"Yes, except for that short period, right before I turn. I was still mentally there, when I came to see you," Remus said, holding his hands palm flat, against each other. "Mostly because I wanted to know if I was right about your cursed spell. But by the time I left…" He interlaced his fingers again.
"But then, as a werewolf, it's-" Elodie held her own hands palm down, right over left, up by her chest.
Remus laughed. "I wish. No, for the transformation, it's more like I'm on a broom chasing the wolf on his own broom. That's with Wolfsbane. Without, I was holding onto his broom with my fingernails, dangling off."
"That's a really vivid image," Elodie told him, crossing her arms against the chill she got as she pictured it. "For me, I picture it as though you were injected with the soul of a wolf that flows through your veins. It waxes and wanes with the moon, blowing through your physical body like a enlarging ghost, every four weeks, only to deflate away into almost nothingness in between."
"That's… exactly how it is." Remus's eyes were raw and full of intensity when she looked at him after saying that. She wondered how long it would be, tonight, before the gold would manifest in them, signifying the wolf's coming to the surface, right before it was tamed by her Wolfsbane potion.
"Well, I know what I should grow in our garden, anyway," Elodie told him, turning to start back along the little-used path toward the main building of Hollyfield.
"Oh?" Remus's voice came from behind her.
"Aconite."
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Instead of going into Hollyfield via the courtyard, Elodie and Remus went in the side door and straight into the potions room. After drinking his Wolfsbane, Remus bid Elodie good night.
As soon as he left the room, Elodie leaned her forehead against the door. Nothing of what Remus had told her gave her any excuses to try to tell herself that going to him right before his transformation would be a bad idea. He had, in fact, given her every reason to believe that he might have difficulty even remembering that she'd been there in the first place, which was incredibly tempting.
Elodie spent the next hour and a half carefully and methodically cleaning and packing up the potions area around the Wolfsbane cauldron that they'd just finished with. She had to admit that magic, while sometimes complicated, made things like not dropping books and having extra hands (levitation was seriously just the bomb, as she'd probably said in the 90s the first time around) very easy. Even so, she made a note to look for some kind of floor cushioning charm after she'd dropped two different things she'd been afraid would shatter, given how distracted she was.
Finally, everything was packed and prepared to be transported within the week, and Elodie was out of excuses. She went out of the room, locked the door, and walked over to the side door, the adrenaline gaining more distance in her system with each step.
"This is seriously ridiculous, Elodie," she told herself when she paused at the door instead of pushing it open to look up at the sky. "It's only a hug, in the end! Besides, the full moon is-" She pushed the door open. "Not out yet. Shit. Yay? I don't even know."
It was a beautiful, warm night, and Elodie stood in the doorway and bounced on the balls of her feet for a full minute before she muttered a heartfelt "Fuck it," and started walking in the direction of the cellar.
She'd almost changed her mind when she got there, but she'd forgotten his heightened senses. She was fully ten yards away or more when he turned toward the sound of her feet on the gravel pathway. Elodie stopped when she saw him, but something told her if she walked away now, even if she didn't run, he'd follow after her. So, she walked toward him, her anxiety growing more powerful with each step.
"You're still outside," she said, at a loss to figure out what to say.
"You need something." His eyes were ringed thickly with the same golden hue she'd seen a full lunar cycle ago.
The way Remus phrased this was so odd as to be almost alien, and with a stab of awareness in her gut, Elodie realized that this was what he'd meant about having the wolf so close to the fore.
"Elodie? Look at me, please," Remus said, sounding more like himself. She'd expected him to scold her, but his voice right now was gentle. With a fortifying deep breath, she lifted her eyes to his. Green-gold eyes looked back at her with confidence and assessment. "What do you need? I can tell there's something you want. Tell me," he all but commanded her.
"I-" She broke off, having lost all of her nerve. What was she doing here bothering a man tormented by demons he just barely held at bay-seeking to ask for something a toddler would, as if he didn't have bigger problems?!
She'd forgotten everything she'd learned, it seemed, even things she'd realized from her late-night brainstorming session the night before. The closer Remus was to his wolf, the more physical he was, that's what she'd realized then. Yet here she was, standing in front of him less than an hour before his transformation, completely shocked by the hand that came to rest under her chin, lifting her face to his gaze almost as a lover would.
Instantly, irrevocably, her physical reaction to his touch invoked the reaction her heart held in trust for him. She gasped and stepped back, just as she'd done exactly a month beforehand. On that day, her confrontation with Remus's wolf self had caused her to confess that she had bargained her life force against the potion she'd brewed for him. Now, she feared that she'd bargained her soul for absolutely nothing.
Remus's hand still hung in the air like an accusation.
"Tell me," he repeated, as if confused by her reticence. Elodie almost laughed. Her feelings had to be obvious to him, given the way she'd sucked in a shocked breath at the feel of his hand against her. He couldn't have failed to notice the way her heart had stuttered in her chest, the way her body had responded, blithely, as though preparing for more touches that would-of course-never come. And yet, his eyes, almost full gold, now, gave her a sliver of hope that he might not remember her nonverbal confession.
Elodie clung to the only thing she had left: the truth.
"It's stupid. I'm ashamed to tell you, okay? So, go on, I'll see you tomorrow, after you rest up."
Remus's answering chuckle was sexy, damn him. "You know I'll hound you to tell me what it was, tomorrow. Maybe I won't remember?"
Elodie stared at him. "What, are you using this, this, what would you even call it? Merger of your two selves to try to persuade me?"
"Isn't that why you're here?" His eyes almost glowed in the darkness, and she shot a worried glance up at the sky, to reassure herself that the moon hadn't yet risen.
"You won't remember?" she asked, biting her lip.
"Can't promise that," he said, and she could see a slight tremble in his limbs, a sign of how physical his transformation would be, soon. "Tell me anyway."
She turned her back on him and walked away a few steps, finding her childish appeal too embarrassing to face him with. "I want… ugh, this is stupid. A hug. I-just… I want-I miss, friends that touch me, and I shouldn't be asking, the moon is going to-"
"There's time," Remus--Moony--said, his voice right by her ear. She hadn't heard him come closer, but his reflexes were probably at their very height, right now. She almost expected his arms to come around her right then, but something told her he was waiting for her to make the move toward him, and he wasn't going to ask.
Gathering up all of her courage, Elodie turned, slowly, to face him. He was so close that her arms brushed up against him. He didn't have to move much at all to rub his (large, warm) hands along her upper arms, although they shook slightly.
"You're all alone here, almost," he told her. "No pack." Startled, Elodie looked up at his face, expecting to see his eyes as completely golden. They weren't. Remus grinned at her, his two-toned eyes glinting with mischief. "I'm not wrong, though."
"Werewolf humor?!" Elodie said, incredulously.
Remus/Moony just folded her into his chest in a bear hug and brushed his lips along her forehead, saying, "I would never joke about missing your friends, no matter what word is used."
Her arms were pressed against his chest, but Elodie revelled in the hug anyway. She slid her fingers into the folds of his shirt and buried her head against his chest, murmuring a thank you as the primal comfort of being held by another person softened the edges of her jagged emotions. Remus had one arm wrapped around her, with his other hand flat against her back.
"I'm glad I could help," he said, his voice low and gravelly in her ear. Assuaged by the thing she'd needed, affection, Elodie's body responded to the cues it had been given, heat pooling low. She was acutely aware that he'd sense that, too, just as he'd sussed out the other need she'd had and forced her to address it. Elodie stiffened, but to her utter shock, the man holding her did not push her away, he pulled her closer, tightening his hold on her. "Don't," he whispered, when she lifted her head from against his chest and uncurled her fingers.
Shame and fear of Remus's reaction led her to stutter at him as she pulled her head back to apologize. "I didn't ask for-I wouldn't-"
Pure golden eyes met hers. "You didn't. He wouldn't. I would."
Then, his hands moved up along her body and into her hair, framing her face, and his lips came crashing down against hers.
There was no easy familiarity, just possession. Moony-it had to be Moony-took her shock and turned it to his advantage, sliding his tongue deep inside of her mouth as though it belonged there, chasing her tongue to brush and tease. One hand slid down against her throat, keeping her head angled up, easier for him to take what he wanted.
She'd already been vulnerable and impulsive, she'd had to be to come looking for him in the first place, so she wasn't in a position to hide how much she needed this. So instead of holding back to try to salvage some kind of plausible deniability, Elodie just groaned and slid an arm around him, her hand sliding up underneath his shirt, against the skin of his back.
Now she knew it was Moony who held her, because he didn't flinch at all when her fingers brushed along the edge of a scar on his back, and neither did she.
When Moony pulled back from her lips, he slid his nose against her neck as he'd done the month before, and she shivered, her hand spasming at his chest where she'd caught a handful of his shirt fabric.
"You're not afraid," he said, low and harsh. "That's not fear."
She shook her head. A slow, devilish smile grew on his face, and impulsively she stoked it, stretching up on her tiptoes to drag her own nose against his neck, just a small bit, where she could reach. His response was immediate. Both hands reached down to lift her bodily against him, and he took three long strides until she had the smooth wall of the shed at her back. Then he pressed himself against her, watching for her reaction.
"Moony?" she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed at his overt arousal and the way her own flared to life at his touch.
"Mmm?" was his response, as he leaned down and caught her lips with his, over and over, at different angles. His heartbeat under her hands was racing, racing, and even though he was full of confidence, his body shook, not with fear, but in preparation.
"He'll never forgive me," she whispered, torn, possibly wrecked. She hitched a leg up anyway, hissing at the way her movement maximized her contact with him.
Moony slid his hands, fingers spread wide, up along her sides, until he firmly grasped her arms. He pulled them up and around his neck, and then slid his hands back down, one thumb trailing over a nipple through her shirt, as he stepped away from the shed. His movements slid her down, against his body, in such a confident, sensual way that Elodie made a whimpering noise at how it felt.
"I won't tell," he whispered in her ear. Then, he leaned over and kissed her one last time, hand tangled in her hair, possessive and greedy. As he pulled away, he slid his hand around from her hair over her mouth, sliding the pads of his fingers across her lips. Moony moved his hand down, pressing one slightly shaking finger against her lips. "Shhhh," he whispered.
With a glance at the sky, then, he ripped open the door to the shed and disappeared inside. The sound of his feet pounding down the stairs echoed through the open door.
Elodie shut her eyes and trembled for a long moment. Then, she opened them again and walked over to shut the shed door as if in a trance.
"What?!" she said, aloud. Her voice sounded tiny and insignificant in the darkness, and the awareness of where she was and who she had just been with caused her to run back to Hollyfield as fast as her legs could carry her. Elodie forgot that she was a witch, forgot that she was anything but defenceless, while behind her, the full moon rose in the sky.
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She would just have to never leave her room again, that was the only viable solution in the harsh light of day.
There would be no house, no Floo, no friends, no Order of the Phoenix, no Hogwarts, nothing. Elodie told herself hysterically that she would just conjure up food to sustain herself and send Owls to reassure everyone she was just fine, thank you, with no word about the existential crisis she was having.
It was a whopper of a crisis. Every time she shut her eyes, he was there. Every casual thought of something innocuous was followed by a flash of memory, lips, hands, hips. She'd gotten her hug, filled that void, only to hollow out an entirely new and dangerous one.
Since she'd woken up, all of her movements had been jerky and rushed, as if by darting around the room and snatching up her belongings when she needed them would minimize the amount of time she was observable, in her own strange logic. She rushed over to the desk, expertly ripping off a roll of parchment and grabbing the self-inking quill.
Dear Sirius,
Can it be the eighth now, please?
Apropos of nothing, will you tell me if you ever spent much time with Remus when his wolf was in control?
I am shameless: I know you won't turn me in to the Ministry if I threaten to hex you with something awful if you even hint to him that I've asked this, be warned.
It's probably nothing, I just noticed some out of character behavior
Elodie stopped and stared at the phrase 'out of character' until the words started floating in the moisture her eyes created in their need to blink. The phrase had too many meanings for her in that moment, not the least of which was the fact that it probably wasn't out of character, depending on Sirius's answer.
It's probably nothing, I just noticed some odd behavior and was curious about it, since I know the two of you are close. He's sensitive about it, I think, and asking him would just make me feel awful.
He and I got a bunch of supplies for the house this week, including a huge bed for you, to make up for all the years of sleeping in ghastly shitholes. I even distracted Remus while I picked it out so he didn't find some reason why you didn't need a bed large enough to roll over a few times in. I assumed you might want to be there to watch him try to reason his way out of being extravagant, and I bought it with my own money, which he doesn't even know.
I've got your back, is what I'm saying.
Your future housemate,
Elodie
Ps. Am I right in thinking that neither of us, due to negative circumstances, have actually had to be adults in the magical world for over a decade?
Writing Sirius a cheeky letter cheered Elodie up until she remembered she couldn't send it without leaving her room. She stood up and frowned, frowned some more, then got dressed as quickly as she could, even doing the 'hop toward the door while still putting on slip-on shoes' thing.
Chances were high Remus was still asleep, after his long night transformed. She could sneak out and send her message and-
"Am I really hiding from him, or joking about it to myself, though?" Elodie asked herself in the doorway to her room. There was only one way to find out.
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She totally hid in her room that whole day, the sixth of September.
Elodie told herself that Remus usually slept through most of the day after his transformation, though he did make appearances in the dining room sometimes. So she'd been able to ignore her guilt in not going out except to send Sirius a letter.
She missed breakfast on the seventh.
To be fair, there was a strange owl that came to her window about a half hour after she'd woken up, and when she let it in, she found a letter from Sirius.
Dear Elodie,
Yes, I'm acquainted with Remus's wolf. I call Remus Moony, but that's mostly bullshit unless it's the week before the full moon. Moony is a blunt, impulsive jerk, in my opinion, but that might be because I'm cocksure and Remus usually isn't, so Moony resents me sometimes. If you wonder if he remembers, ask him how many times in his life I've actually punched him in the face. If it's less than three, he doesn't remember.
Elodie, don't take this the wrong way, but I feel completely ridiculous for looking forward to a bed. I'm still looking forward to it, but that's far too responsible a reaction to have. I'm probably going to have a panic attack or faint or something. I'm asking you now if you can nurse me back to health?
I joke, but I'm very grateful for your influence, here.
Thank you.
Sirius
Ps. We're both hopelessly unprepared for this, yes. Thank Merlin we've got Remus!
Elodie hugged his letter to her chest. She felt very heartened by his mostly flippant reaction. She felt it meant that at the very least Sirius had a contentious relationship with Moony, but that it clearly hadn't affected his friendship with Remus himself. Being punched in the face was no small thing between friends, whether or not that approached the level of being ravished against a shed wall.
Her fingers curled up against her palms as if they were itching to bury themselves in his shirt again. Even though she'd known that the life force driving him was Moony, he'd been in Remus's body, and that was the material issue, really. She could compartmentalize his behavior as Moony, but it was still with Remus's hands that he'd touched her, Remus's lips that he'd taken possession of hers, and his body that had been pressed against her.
Elodie covered her face with both hands. Then, there was a knock at her door.
A quick glance at her clothing told her she was properly dressed for the day, somehow, so she got up and, with Sirius's letter still in one hand, she opened the door to her room.
Remus was standing there. He smiled at her, looking tired as he usually did for a day or so after the full moon.
"Good morning! Bart Owled. He said we are free to start moving in today, if we want. The paperwork for the Floo Network has gone through."
A great sense of joy bubbled up in her. "Really?" she said, covering her mouth with a hand when it came out as almost a squeak.
"Yes. I'd sent him a message about it, because Arthur had told me he and Molly could come and help today since it's Sunday, if there was a chance to."
"Oh, that's so-" Elodie crowed, but then she stopped mid happy twirl to come back to the doorway and look at him. "You should rest, though, shouldn't you?"
"I think I'd rest better at home, don't you?" The look on his face showed that he was also looking forward to this, as she was. His words made her heart nearly stop with the kind of joy that comes from seeing a loved one being truly happy. He didn't seem to be holding back, either, which told her he couldn't possibly fully remember what Moony had done.
"I was just saying to Sirius," Elodie lifted the letter, "I have zero idea what to do as a magical adult, when it comes to moving! Are you up to coordinating everything yourself? I'm going to be almost useless," she said, worrying at her lip with her teeth.
"You'll do fine, I have faith in you," Remus said, tipping his head down and rocking on his heels before saying, while looking up at her with a hopeful expression, "So today, then?"
"Let's do it," she affirmed, grinning. Then, before she could change her mind, "Remus? This is random, but… how many times has our housemate punched you in the face, before?"
She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but a full-on eye roll and exasperated expression was not it. "Ugh, is he bragging? Give me that!"
Despite his werewolf reflexes, Elodie maintained her grasp on the letter, mostly because she'd widened her eyes at his mad reach for it and immediately stuffed it into her shirt-into her bra. "He was not bragging, I promise. I may have asked if there were any prior incidents that might make house sharing awkward," she fibbed smoothly. She was never more grateful for linguistic semantics.
"Once. He punched me in the face once." Remus Lupin actually crossed his arms as he looked from her face to the tiny corner of Sirius's letter that still peeked out over the top of her V-necked t-shirt. "I could still get that letter, you know."
"Oh, come on. You wouldn't reach for it in a million years," Elodie told him. "I think your respect for my body autonomy is a credit to your personality."
"I'm sure you do. I'm going to go Owl him, and the Weasleys," Remus said, but he didn't move for a few seconds. Instead, he looked down at her with narrowed eyes. She had a sense that he was once again using his heightened senses to search for an answer from her. Despite everything that had happened the day before, the twin answers from Sirius and Remus about Moony gave Elodie the confidence to look him right in the eye with confidence.
Something had changed, though, Elodie thought as she shut the door and started gathering up the various bags and crates that held their household supplies. For some reason, she felt more inclined to tease him than protect him, now. Is that Sirius's influence? she asked herself, curious. Or Moony's?