Chapter 43: Shoots

A.N. Thank you for all the lovely reviews! In the home stretch now, both with this fic and with my pregnancy. Baby is taking its time and is not born yet, but I expect it'll still be longer than usual before the next chapter is published.

Dates: This Potterwatch broadcast takes place in late March. The refugees from Malfoy Manor arrive at Shell Cottage a couple of days later. We don't have an exact date for Teddy Lupin's birth, but I like to place it as starting on April 20 and concluding on the morning of the 21st. And of course, the summons-by-Galleon occurs on the first of May.

As always, I greatly appreciate reviews. I do not respond to many, especially those which contain speculation about plot events to come, because I do not want to give anything away. But I appreciate reviews as a sign of investment in the story. Stick with Rose! Like Mary Tyler Moore, she's going to make it after all.

The contributors to Potterwatch met at a different safe home for each broadcast. This was in part because they did not want to meet at any of the well-known resistance homes (the Burrow, Shell Cottage, The Tonks' home) too often, in case they were raided during a broadcast. But it was also because they were running out of places to hide. Kingsley's home was no longer safe, though he and his family were still on the run. Hestia Jones' family home had been raided by Death Eaters in February. Aberforth Dumbledore had warned them against any further meetings in his pub, as Hogsmeade had recently come under Death Eater occupation, and Augusta Longbottom had recently fled her home fighting off a squad of raiding Death Eaters.

There could be no further broadcasts at the home of Xenophilius Lovegood, either. After Luna was taken captive just before Christmas, Xenophilius had begun ignoring all contact from Order members. A few days after Christmas, the Order learned he had been taken captive by the Death Eaters, and his house damaged severely. They were left to wonder about the truth of the rumor that he had summoned the Death Eaters himself, providing a (false, as it turned out) report that Harry Potter was there, in an effort to exchange him for Luna. Since Lovegood himself was now at Azkaban, he was not in a position to elucidate.

Contributors met, however, in Dedalus Diggle's garden shed for a late March broadcast of Potterwatch. They were a varied group of older Order members, new, recent Hogwarts graduates, and those, like Kingsley and Rose, who had come to adulthood between the wars. Rose shook hands happily with her old students, Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins, and settled herself between Remus and Kingsley on the tree stumps Dedalus had rounded up as stools. He had appointed himself a guard, and was pacing his garden, his usual exuberance mingled with nervousness as he strode back and forth outside the shed.

Lee Jordan, the unofficial emcee of the program, opened the show and read the names of the dead and captured. Kingsley gave a statement about the effect of the war on Muggles, and urged Wizards to use whatever means available to them to protect their vulnerable neighbors. And then, they had decided, Rose would take the microphone.

"Before we hear from Romulus and our 'Pals of Potter' segment," said Lee, nodding at Remus, "We welcome a new contributor today, who will attempt to put the Anti-Death-Eater movement into context for us by comparing it to the anti-Grindelwald Resistance of fifty years ago. Flower, welcome!"

"Thank you, River," Rose said, when Lee had handed her the microphone. "These are dark times, without a doubt. Many listeners will remember the last British Wizarding War, in the 1970s and early 80s, and it is all too easy to make comparisons to that time. But we can gain further perspective by looking beyond our own nation, and consider all that was done by those brave Witches and Wizards who resisted during the time of Grindelwald's reign of terror. Many of us know of the pureblooded Witches and Wizards who hid Muggle-borns in their homes, and the work that Witches and Wizards did throughout Europe to protect their Muggle neighbors, often without their knowledge.

"Fewer of us in the Wizarding world know as much about the efforts made by Muggle men and women during this time to protect their neighbors. You see, at the same time that Grindelwald's movement was prosecuting Muggles, the Muggle regime in Germany under the Nazi party was persecuting other Muggle groups, groups whose religion, ethnic group, sexuality, politics, or ability put them in the minority. At the same times that groups of Muggles, Muggle-borns, and wizards and witches who opposed Grindelwald were being murdered or disappearing to Nurmengard, other groups within the Muggle population were being similarly attacked or taken to Nazi camps to be worked to death.

"But just as in this time, many heroes emerged. Soldiers fought to liberate the camps and fight back against both repressive regimes. Some citizens of France fled to the mountains and engaged in guerilla strategies against the Germans. Individual Muggles hid members of persecuted groups in their homes. Some sabotaged infrastructure such as Muggle trains, while others passed information to the Muggle Allied powers who were fighting the Nazis. Knowing these historical facts helps us to understand two important things. One, that humans are endlessly creative in devising ways to oppress and dehumanize one another.

"But the second insight is that there will always be those who resist evil, in every time and place. People whom an oppressive regime privileges are in a position to use their privilege to protect and defend the vulnerable. Listeners who are pureblooded Wizards, you are the privileged ones in this regime of terror and death. How will you use yours?"

Lee allowed a moment for Rose's question to hang in the air before clearing his throat. "Thank you, Flower. Very inspiring insight from history, there. While we have you, on the off chance that the Chosen One himself is listening, any words of encouragement for him?"

Rose took the microphone back and took a deep breath before responding. "I would urge him to remember that progress is rarely linear. It is made up of periods of unproductive mundanity, interrupted by sudden breakthroughs, bursts of insight, epiphanies. I would tell Harry not to lose hope. And, to remember the strength that there is in love."

Rose only just managed to pass off the microphone to Remus when the tears began to overpower her. She had held up stoically in the months since Christmas, helping to keep Fleur's spirits up when Bill was on a mission, supporting Tonks when she had learned of the death of her father, and attending Order meetings at the Burrow where she accepted missions and offered strategies for the movement with alacrity. But the idea of Harry's possibly having heard her voice, however remote the chances were, was too much for her.

She had not seen him since September. Ron had left Shell Cottage at Christmas, and had sent no word. Rose had been, she hoped, a valuable member of the resistance to Voldemort's regime, but she knew that all it would take to destroy her utterly would be news of Harry's capture or death. The dread of it bubbled in the corners of her mind every day. Kingsley put a comforting hand on her back as her head sank into her hands.

By the time Fred Weasley had started in on the difference between Voldemort and a basilisk, however, Rose was sitting up again, and her tears were due to hearty, though silent, laughter.

Only days later, Rose was in Andromeda's spacious kitchen, teaching Tonks Fleur's magical dishwashing technique. "Before you do the Levitation charm," Rose was saying, wiping her hands on the apron Andromeda had loaned her and reaching for her wand, "you have to wave it in a line across all the dishes you want to levitate. Fleur says it helps to have them all in a row first," she cautioned, before Tonks could attempt to levitate the dishes from their messy heap and undoubtedly break many of them.

Tonks wiped her own hands directly onto the jumper which stretched over her swollen belly while Rose placed the dishes into a neat sideways stack. Upon Tonks' incantation, the dishes rose into the air in a neat, levitating row.

"Then," Rose continued, "after you say the washing spell, and the sorting spell, you add "Singulus" to the end. That keeps them from smashing up against each other."

"Scourgify Singulus," Tonks commanded, and the dishes began to wash themselves. "Oh, Brilliant," she observed when the last dishes settled themselves neatly at the top of the stack in the cupboard. "I can't believe I didn't break one. Next you'll have me reading Witch Weekly."

"Well, we don't need to go that far," Rose responded with a grimace. "Here, let me get the pans. You have a sit." Tonks gratefully settled herself on a stool and told Rose about her Healer visit that day.

"She says the baby is head down! Its heart rate is strong," Tonks said.

"Did she say anything that could reassure Remus?" Rose asked, and then, "Scourgify," to the first pan in the sink.

"It's supposed to be a very good sign that all these full moons keep coming and going and I don't feel any change in its movement. He'll have to be content with that until it's born, though. They can't do any proper testing until it's earthside."

Rose nodded, and was going to ask a follow up question when a silvery blur appeared at the edge of her vision. She turned to find Bill Weasley's Patronus, a noble-looking falcon, perched on the kitchen table. Its beak opened and it spoke with Bill's voice. "Rose, everyone's safe, but we've had some visitors. You might want to come if possible."

Rose looked at Tonks, who nodded and gestured her consent to Rose's going. "Tell him I'm on my way," Rose told the falcon, who bowed its head before streaking away.

Rose's heart had begun to beat nervously. He said everyone's safe, she reminded herself. But her mouth was still dry. She looked at Tonks, who shrugged at her and said, "Go, Rose. Remus will be home soon. I'm fine. Go."

She nodded, and after throwing a few necessary overnight items into a bag, Rose went to the Apparition point and concentrated hard on Shell Cottage.

It was a beautiful night in Cornwall, unseasonably warm with a clear sky full of stars. Rose saw no one upon her arrival, but in the cottage, all the lights were on. She was passing the garden before she noticed him: Harry, digging steadily at a small hole at the edge of the early potatoes. He was so engrossed in his task that he neither saw nor heard her, but continued to fill and empty his spade rhythmically while Rose stood and watched him. After several minutes had passed, he paused and flexed his hands, grimacing slightly, and then caught sight of her watching him.

"Hi," he rasped. His face was a strange mixture of calmness and anguish. Silently, she conjured a glass and filled it with water from her wand. She handed it to him and he drank thirstily. "Thanks," he said when he'd finished, and then turned back to his task.

"What are you working on, Harry?" she asked him. "It's an unusual time for gardening."

He released a sound that might have been a mirthless chuckle. Then he said quietly, "It's for Dobby," and buried the spade in the dirt again. Rose took her eyes from him and noticed, for the first time, a little bundle about ten feet away from where Harry was digging. She approached it, a pit forming in her stomach, and saw the little elf lying inert, unbreathing, with eyes still open and looking at nothing. She swallowed.

"Do you want help?" she asked Harry.

He stopped again and glanced at her. "No, thanks. I think . . . I need to do this." She nodded.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

He shook his head again. "Not yet." She could hear talking in the house, many voices, though none spoke in a way that gave her any reason for alarm. So, she sat on the little garden bench and alternately watched Harry toiling away with his spade, and the sea. After a few minutes, Harry broke the silence.

"I can block him out, now."

" . . . Him? From your mind?"

"Yes. He's furious, mind, I can feel it, I just don't have to see it, now. And I know the answer. You were right. You said, two years ago, that you can't replace something with nothing. You can't replace a feeling with no feeling."

"It's true," Rose agreed. Her voice was soft. "I tried for years to feel nothing. Sometimes it works. But there are certain things you can never do when your heart is closed." Like cast a Patronus, she thought, but did not say it aloud.

"Maybe Snape can do Occlumency by feeling nothing," Harry observed, emptying his spade in the pile. "Or," he added, "Maybe he just didn't really want me to learn."

"I suspect the former."

Harry just shrugged and continued to dig. Rose sensed that he was in no mood for a long conversation, so after watching him at it for another minute, she rose. "Ron and Hermione inside?" she asked.

"Yeah. Hermione wasn't doing well when we got here. Bill said she'd be all right. But . . . I don't know exactly..." he shook his head.

"I'll see if I can help," she promised. As she passed him, Rose squeezed Harry's shoulder. "I'm glad you're all right. I love you."

He stopped digging again and his hand went to her hand on his shoulder. Seeming unable to speak, he squeezed her hand briefly, before returning to his work.

Hermione was paler than Rose had ever seen her. She did not open her eyes when Rose entered the little guest room, the one where she herself usually stayed. Ron sat in a small wooden chair by her side, clutching at her hand. He looked stricken, but looked up when Rose entered. "What happened, Ron?" she asked, dreading the answer. Because unlike Harry, Ron looked inclined to tell her.

"Bellatrix had her, for a while. For too long. She wanted information. Harry and me, we were locked in the basement at Malfoy Manor. We found Ollivander, and Luna and Dean. They're all here now, with a goblin called Griphook."

"How did you escape?" As she asked it, Rose heard Fleur enter behind her.

"Dobby," Ron said simply, and that was all he could say just then.

Fleur sat down gently on the bed and took out a bottle of Skele-Gro. She measured out a dose and held it coaxingly to Hermione's lips. "Zair you go, chère, take eet. Zees will 'elp you 'eal fast."

Hermione gave no other sign that she had heard than to turn her head away from the spoon. Fleur frowned and began to try her entreaty again, but Ron intervened.

"Let me try, Fleur?"

Fleur looked at Ron and her frown melted away. "Well, zen, you try, frère." She looked at him with affection as she sat back and Ron took the spoon.

"Hey, Hermione," he said. His voice was very soft. "We made it. You're safe. You've just got to take your potion now." Hermione's eyes fluttered open just a crack as she studied him. "I'll tell you what," he continued. "I'll eat everything you cook and never complain again, if you take your potions today. Seems like a good deal, eh? You should take it."

The very edges of her lips curled up. When he held up the spoon of Skele-Gro, she opened her mouth and drank the contents without protest. She did the same when he offered her the pain potion, and Fleur patted his shoulder. "You are ze 'ealer in zis room, now," she told him affectionately. "She should not need anyzing more for a few hours. I will go to Griphook, now."

Ron held Hermione's hand in both of his as she drowsed for the next few minutes. He told Rose in an undertone what had happened to them at Malfoy Manor. "We were listening to Potterwatch- we heard you, by the way! Brilliant lecture," he told her with a slight smirk. "And at the end of it, Harry got a bit excited. Something he heard agreed with his theory about what You-Know-Who's been doing, and he broke the taboo again. Snatchers were on us in seconds." If Ron blamed Harry for this, however, there was no sign of it in his face.

"They roughed us up a bit, took us to Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix took Hermione. We know she was torturing her; used the Cruciatus curse, among other things. Not sure how she got the bones out of her wand arm, but I'll bet she did that first. Too much of a coward to try to touch her if she could use her wand, I'll bet. Hermione with a wand should scare You-Know-Who himself," he remarked, proudly.

"Anyway, Harry managed to summon Dobby using Sirius' mirror, somehow. He got us out. But there's something else- you should probably know. Wormtail is dead."

The sentence went through Rose like a thunderbolt. She had long ceased her active effort to capture Peter Pettigrew; after Sirius' death, it seemed like a poor priority in a war with so many enemies and so many dangers to people she cared about. But Pettigrew returned often to her thoughts; more than Bellatrix, she blamed him that she and Sirius had been unable to have a future together.

"What happened?" she whispered. But Ron shook his head.

"That story should probably wait. Harry and I were there for it. It was . . . not pretty. We'll tell everyone later. But he's dead. Where's Harry?" he asked suddenly.

"Digging a grave for Dobby," she answered. "He wouldn't let me help," she added, hoping her voice did not sound resentful. But Ron only nodded.

"He might let me help, though," he said, and stood. He looked down at Hermione, who had gone back to sleep.

"I'll stay with her," Rose promised him, and he nodded, swallowed, and gently disengaged his hand from Hermione's. Rose took her hand instead, and through the window she watched as Ron walked out to Harry, said something in response to some question of Harry's, then threw an arm around his friend's shoulders. A moment later, Dean joined them holding two spades. The three of them jumped into the hole Harry had been digging, and together they began to dig, and Rose thought that, if anyone were as fortunate in friendship as James had been, it was James' son.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean, and Luna stayed with Bill and Fleur for over five weeks, even longer than did Griphook and Mr. Ollivander. As such, there was no room for Rose to stay comfortably at Shell Cottage. She made regular visits, watching with satisfaction as Hermione continued to improve (though the girl was markedly quieter than she'd been as long as Rose had known her, and was prone to fits of shaking which only Ron could quell). Harry brooded and kept to himself, even excluding his friends at times. He spent a great deal of time near the crashing ocean, by himself.

Rose, for her part, spent a good deal of her energy trying to reduce the burden on Fleur. The cottage was by no means suitable for hosting seven guests, in addition to its occupants, and though Fleur never exactly complained, Rose knew the cooking and nursing and lack of privacy wore at her. So she stayed at Fleur's side as much as she could, helping with the cooking and cleaning and nursing. She did not try to force Harry's confidence, though she frequently brought him cups of tea when he had been out staring at the waves for too long. He always drank the tea, and seemed pleased to see her, but did not say very much of what he was thinking to her.

"He's trying to make up his mind," Hermione explained one evening as they and Ron used their wands to dry a basket of clean, wet laundry. "He's learned what You-Know-Who is looking for, and he can't decide whether to try and stop him, or whether to keep on looking for Horcruxes. He's trying to figure out what Dumbledore wanted him to do."

"Trying to read a dead man's mind. Not really a straightforward thing to do, but that's Harry," Ron said, shrugging as he pulled out another pair of socks to dry.

"There is nothing like the ocean for epiphanies," Rose observed, looking over her shoulder to where Harry was throwing stones into the waves. "I'm sure he'll have one soon. I think he's had several already."

In the evenings, though, Rose returned to Andromeda Tonks' home. Tonks, who grew more and more uncomfortable as the weeks passed, was very glad to have the company, especially when Remus left for a meeting or a mission. On one evening when Remus was home, Rose confided to him and to Tonks that she feared Voldemort had moved past suspicion into certainty about the identity of the person intruding upon his dreams. When she described what Kingsley had told her about the behavior of the Death Eaters staking out her flat, Remus sucked in his breath.

"I was afraid of this," he said. "I really think you should stop this, Rose. At least, for a while. I don't like the sound of the way his energy was behaving when you tried to leave him last time. I wouldn't put it past him to find a way to trap you there. It's a horrifying thought. Take a break, will you? At least until we come up with a plan?"

"You know, resume your highly dangerous assault on his mind, but after the baby's born?" Tonks quipped, but with a touch of sincerity in her eyes. Rose agreed.

Remus spent April's full moon in a remote part of Scotland, since Rose had long run out of the Wolfsbane ingredients. And the weeks passed relatively uneventfully, until one evening in late April, Tonks seemed unable to get comfortable. She shifted and squirmed on the sofas, then paced around her mother's kitchen, sipping tea and seeming agitated. Rose watched her pace around for several minutes before she remembered that this was very similar to the way she remembered Lily behaving when-

"Tonks, how are you feeling?" she asked her friend. Andromeda was in her room (she frequently resorted to her bedroom for hours at a time since the death of her husband) and Remus had not yet returned from an Order mission to smuggle Muggleborns to safety.

"I'm . . . well, all right, I think maybe having contractions? Maybe?" She looked at Rose, and Rose saw hope, discomfort, worry, and a touch of fear pass over her face in a matter of seconds.

"Ok, then," Rose replied, willing calmness into her voice, while she tried desperately to remember what they had done for Lily. She had a distant memory of Lily having to be coaxed out of the bath-tub after spending hours there. "How about a bath?"

"Maybe . . ." But Tonks looked distracted. "I wish Remus was home."

"I could get your mother, and then fetch him," Rose suggested. "It wouldn't probably be the thing to send a Patronus galloping around the Muggleborns' houses, anyway."

Tonks shook her head and managed to say, "No, stay, Rose, it's too dangerous," before she had to bend over a chair, swaying and humming. Rose went to get Andromeda, who leaped into action. She looked pale, but stately as she set about making tea and Flooing her private healer. The healer soon arrived, and while she examined Tonks in her bedroom, Rose took Andromeda aside.

"I'd like to go and find Remus," she whispered. "I believe they were to have left London by now, anyway. I could take over for him, if need be."

"I suppose Nymphadora didn't want you to go," Andromeda stated, and Rose confirmed with a shake of her head.

"She thinks it's dangerous. Well, everything is dangerous now. But their plan was good. They were going to Apparate the people whose wands had been confiscated to Dover, then take Thestrals and brooms to France. Remus should be in Dover by now, barring any ill chance. What would you think of my going?"

Andromeda frowned. "Is there a reason I couldn't just send a Patronus?"

"I'd be worried about drawing attention to them," Rose told her. "I could Apparate up the hill from them, though, perhaps near the lighthouse, and then walk down to the beach."

Andromeda nodded slowly. "That would give you a safe approach. Yes. I think if Remus is there, it would be as safe a place to find him as anywhere just now. Just- come with me a moment." She led Rose into her bedroom, to the closet, where she dug around a moment before withdrawing a pair of sturdy hiking boots.

"My wilderness boots. Ted had a notion to go camping years ago. They haven't gotten a lot of use since then," she added, a slight wry smile on her face. "But I don't like the thought of you trying to climb down to the water in the dark in those." She gestured toward Rose's more fashionable clog-style shoes.

Rose grinned. "You always do have an opinion about footwear, Andromeda." Andromeda smiled at her, and then scurried away to rejoin her daughter, who had just cried, "Merlin's BOLLOCKS, that hurt!" from the bedroom.

Rose Apparated, as she intended, to the far side of the lighthouse at Dover. She knew that it would be dark, of course, but she was not really prepared for how absolute the darkness would be. The sea was a mere mass of sound and wind, indistinguishable from the rest of the landscape. The white lighthouse seemed to glow weirdly, despite that the moon was at its crescent, and could hardly be seen for the clouds. Rose had wanted to approach without lighting her wand, but she soon found that a little light, to avoid tumbling over the steep approach and landing on sharp rocks, would be necessary.

Step by step, she made her way down the rocky path to the shore. It had required a Severing Charm and a quick Repair to the fence behind the lighthouse to even access the path; it was clearly not meant for tourists or for most unwary pedestrians even in the daylight. Rose was very grateful for Andromeda's boots as the last few feet required her to put her lit wand in her sleeve and grip at the side of the rocky incline.

Then, she had gained the beach, and she could both see and dimly hear a small knot of people around a hundred yards up the shore. "Nox," she muttered, though the wand light was only a dim glow in her sleeve at this point. The conversation of the people sounded more like an argument the closer she got to them. Suddenly, Remus' voice said, "There's someone there. Shh!"

"It's only Rose, Remus," Rose called quietly. The posture of his silhouette relaxed at once.

"I didn't know you were coming, Rosey," he said, and then turned toward the shape next to him. "Mrs Taylor, this is Rose Evans, another member of the Order of the Phoenix. Rose, Mrs. Taylor is expressing regret that she's come with us. She has expressed that she thinks remaining in her home would be less risky than flight across the Channel."

"I don't fly," came a woman's voice, high-pitched with anxiety. "I thought maybe we could Apparate. And I can't see a thing."

"Hestia will be with you," Remus promised her. But she said,

"Surely we're more likely to drown than to have our protective enchantments breached at home-?"

"It does seem rather extreme," came a male voice next to her.

"If I may," Rose interrupted him, and their dark shapes turned to her. "The last person I tried to persuade to accept the Order's help also refused it in the end. That was Mrs. Montgomery. Mother of Alexander Montgomery. Perhaps you have heard of that family?" The shapes had gone silent. "I can't imagine how frightened you must be. But the enemy are capable of doing worse, much worse than you can imagine, and their skill at breaking protective enchantments grows by the week. I can no longer live in my own flat. They will have no mercy if they find you."

After a brief silence, the male voice spoke again. "Ivy, let's just go. I read about the Montgomerys last year. It was . . . dreadful. And they didn't even have the Ministry then."

"How long will it take?" Mrs. Taylor asked, her voice shaky.

"Only a couple of hours to fly to Calais," Remus told her. Just then, there was the CRACK of Apparition and another small group of people appeared. Hestia Jones' voice came to them from a few yards away,

"This lot about ready to go, Remus?"

"I think so," Remus said, cautiously, but Mrs. Taylor's voice said, "I suppose. Yes. Thank you, Ms. Jones."

The small party was soon outfitted with brooms, their luggage attached to Thestrals' backs, and as they began to lift into the air, Remus said, "I'm glad you were here, Rose. I don't think I was ready to talk about the Montgomerys yet. But it was just what they needed to hear. You know," he added, as he watched the party assemble in the air, "We spend so much time in danger and fear, it seems incredible a night this peaceful could exist. That a mission could just go off like this, without a hitch . . . I've half a mind to join them," he said, nodding wistfully at the ocean.

"Better not," Rose told him. "In fact, it's time you got home. Tonks is having contractions."

Remus stood up rigidly as suddenly as if he'd been electrocuted. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, he held out his arm for her to take. As soon as she took it, he Disapparated.

As they stepped into the garden at the Tonks' home, Rose told him, "The Healer thinks it will be a long time yet. It's her first child, and those tend to take longer than a few hours, you know, most of the time."

"I want to be with her," was all he said, and she had to run to keep up with him at the pace he set.

That night was one of the longest of Rose's life. Every time she struggled against her fatigue, though, she had only to listen to Tonks' moans or watch Remus' anxious face to feel her determination to be useful return to her. Tonks had been offered pain potions, but unlike Lily, she refused them.

"That'll make my head all funny, won't it?" she had asked the Healer.

"It can cause drowsiness, yes," the witch had admitted. "But surely you would prefer to be out of-"

"I want my head clear, thanks," Tonks had told her, before succumbing to another contraction. Still, after two more hours had passed, she consented to take a different, and much milder, pain potion from the Healer. It did not seem to offer her much relief, however. For hours, she labored in the Tonks' bathtub, gripping the edge and staring at the design on the tiles. She made low, throbbing noises that grew steadily louder, while Remus pressed his hands into her lower back to counter the pressure.

Rose followed the Healer's instructions and brewed a potion which would give Tonks strength and energy. She brought drinks and sweet smelling oils and took over for Remus in applying counter pressure when Remus needed to use the toilet, drink water, or get some fresh air. On one such break, Rose was pushing into Tonks' lower back with all her might, and concentrating so hard she almost didn't notice when Tonks' muscles went slack, indicating the contraction had ended. "Hey, Rose," Tonks' weary voice said.

"Hey Tonks," Rose said. "You're doing marvelously. Now who's the stone cold . . . what was it now?"

"Badass. Stone cold badass," Tonks supplied. "Thanks. Hey. I'm glad you're here."

"So am I," Rose whispered, feeling her energy and determination restored immediately.

Around mid-morning, there came an hour when Tonks had hardly a break between contractions. After a few earth-shaking, growling surges, she stood up from the bath very suddenly and said, "I want the potion."

Remus steadied her, looking a little alarmed. "I'll get the Healer," said Rose, from the hallway, and he nodded, holding onto Tonks and assisting her shaking efforts to get out of the bath.

When Rose and the Healer came bustling back in, the Healer examined a very agitated Tonks by the light of her wand (Tonks had been impatient with too much light, so the room was only lit by candles).

"I want that potion now," Tonks announced again, swaying, her eyes wild.

"Too late," the Healer told her, a satisfied expression on her face. "You can't afford to be that sleepy now. It's time to push."

Rose, who only swore in French, herself, kept a private list of her favorite of the curses Tonks uttered over the next hour. "MERLIN'S BLOODY BALLS!" and "FUCKING SHIT-COATED PIXIES!" were among her favorites. In vain did the Healer urge Tonks to stop shouting and use her strength for the task at hand. After a while, she seemed to recognize that bellowing these curses was helping, rather than hindering, Tonks' efforts. Similarly, no one could persuade Tonks to lie down while she strained to birth her child; she climbed, crawled, squatted, and pulled at Remus' arms, until pure exhaustion found her lying on her side while Remus held her hands.

Rose brought him a cool washcloth which had been dipped in Andromeda's lavender water, and he mopped her forehead with it. Before the next push, Rose saw them exchange a look so full of love, trust, and understanding, that Rose wondered, not for the first time, if she ought to leave. But at the push after that, Tonks reached for Rose's hand, and with her other hand in Remus', while Andromeda mopped her forehead and spoke soft words of encouragement, the baby emerged.

During the flurry of actively which followed, during which no eyes in the room were dry except the Healer's, Rose sank back into her chair and watched as if from many miles away. Her tired mind indulged in a wistful dream of Sirius welcoming his child, their child, the way Remus was delightedly welcoming his own. Would she want Sirius to see her thus? Rose wondered. Would she be able to do what Tonks had just done, and would she want Sirius to be with her in such a state? Oh yes, she answered herself, as Remus and Tonks shared a deep kiss, their son wailing on Tonks' chest. He would have been perfect at this, she decided, and the tears for Tonks and Remus' happiness mingled, without anyone's knowing it, with tears for the scene she would never see, of Sirius holding his newborn child and smiling tenderly at her.

Impatiently, she wiped her tears away and kissed Tonks' forehead. "You were brilliant," she told her friend, who squeezed her hand and said, startlingly, "Be godmother?"

"Harry's going to be godfather," Remus told her, with a smile so wide it seemed a permanent feature, now.

Rose felt her face crumple, and knowing it was too late to fight the tears, gave a laughing sob and said, "I'd be honored."

Remus returned from Shell Cottage that night with news that Harry had accepted the responsibility of godfather, and the next week was a period of happiness and tranquility as few of them had seen in many months. Everyone in the little fellowship who had welcomed Teddy Tonks into the world, seemed unable to leave him. All took their turns holding him, giving the bouncing motion he liked best, and gazing into his changeable eyes. While Rose held him one afternoon, Remus stood nearby, stroking Teddy's small cheek and actually singing to him.

"I didn't know you sang," Rose remarked, smiling.

"Only when drunk," he told her, stroking his son's hair, now.

"I think you've been drunk for Teddy's whole life, Remy," she said. He only laughed, and took Teddy from her again. He could not hold the child long or often enough, it seemed.

A few days later, however, there came a moment when Remus did put Teddy down in his crib, kiss his forehead, and pull the door almost closed. When he came into the living room, where Andromeda and Tonks were sitting on a couch looking at Tonks' baby pictures and Rose was standing, she cleared her throat.

"Remus. A word? In the kitchen?"

He followed her and when they were behind the closed French doors, she drew the warm coin from her pocket for his inspection. On one side, where the serial number for most Galleons usually was, the numbers spelled out that day's date: 01051998. On the other, for the first time, words took the place of the Gringotts Bank identification: Harry is back, they read. We're fighting.