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Chapter 10

Chocolate

18th January 1998

"I think Fred and George may have saved my life with this replenishing chocolate!" Tonks informed Remus in mid-January, looking at the piles of it that they had in the cupboard. The Weasley twins had taken her food cravings very seriously indeed and turned up at their last Potterwatch broadcast of the year with two giant bags of the stuff, with a promise to work on everlasting cheese for her as their next project.

Remus grinned at her and took a bar for himself.

"And mine!" he agreed, unwrapping it. Her mood swings, which had come and gone at an alarming rate during the fourth and fifth month of her pregnancy, seemed to be rapidly on the decline, now only making an appearance in direct relation to how hungry she was. As long as she was fed, she was happy. And by extension so was Remus.

"When I was a child, my Nana Tonks gave me a book about a chocolate factory," Tonks told him, taking a large bite of the bar in front of her. It instantly began to regrow itself. "I read it over and over. It had so many different kinds of magic sweets in it, Fred and George would definitely be able to recreate some I reckon. And at one point there was a bit about a whole palace made of chocolate. A guy actually lived in it!"

"Well I think it is just as well we don't live in a chocolate house. For one thing, you'd have eaten half of it by now."

He took another bite of his own chocolate. "Do you still have the book?"

"No," Tonks looked sad. "Mum gave it away. She didn't know how much it meant to me, to be fair, and she definitely felt bad when she saw how upset I was when I came home in my fifth year and found it had gone. She offered to buy me another copy, but I threw a massive tantrum and said it wouldn't be the same. Then after that I was kind of too proud to every broach the subject again."

"Sixteen-year-old Nymphadora Tonks throw a tantrum? I'm shocked."

She just shrugged and grinned.

"Oh, but it was such a nice edition, Remus! It had this picture of a machine on the cover, with all these rainbow-coloured tubes coming out of it, and I used to look at it and pretend I knew what each one was making…"

She played with the colourful wool on her knitted jumper.

"I probably should have let Mum buy me a new version though," she admitted. "Even if it wasn't exactly the same. It would have been nice to have now to read to the baby. Maybe we could get one somehow. My Nana had loads of others by the same author too. I remember there was one about witches, and another about giants. I used to wonder if the author was secretly a wizard, or a squib maybe, using the wizarding world as inspiration for his stories."

"It's possible, I suppose."

Tonks was twisting her wedding ring pensively round on her finger.

"I have other things of my Nana's. This ring is one of course. But sometimes I just wish I had that book again, even though it has no value, even though there was nothing particularly unique about it. It would be like having a part of her again. Is that crazy?"

"No." Remus shook his head, his voice very soft, his eyes warm. "My mother had a necklace - wore it all the time, never took it off. One of my first memories is sitting up in bed as she read me a story and I kept just reaching out to try and touch it. A little gemstone with a dragonfly in it. Just a relatively cheap muggle necklace, probably thousands of them made. But sometimes I feel the same way about that."

"Oh Remus, what happened to it? Didn't it come to you when she died?"

He shook his head again. "I did look for it when I sorted out my parents' affairs after the attack on their house. But I never found it. I'm guessing she must have been buried with it - I never saw the body, you see. The Ministry took charge of all that back then."

Tonks looked shocked.

"They wouldn't let you see the bodies of your own parents? Even though you were of age? You were seventeen when they died weren't you?"

"Eighteen, even. They died in the spring of my final year at Hogwarts. But that didn't matter. If you were still at school and your parents or guardians were killed in the war, the Ministry took charge. Sorted the body, or bodies. Registered the deaths. Notified the student via an official letter. It was horrible to be honest. The letters were so distinctive, with heavy black writing and a purple seal. Added a real dimension of dread to the morning post."

He swallowed grimly at the memory, then shrugged.

"I guess it was still better than what we have right now. At least the Ministry was on our side back then. And I went to see their house after the attack, so I have a pretty good idea of how it all happened. Maybe it's best I didn't see their bodies." He closed his eyes briefly. "Anyway, everything they had of value passed to me, although as you know that wasn't much. But I never found the necklace, and I never expect to. Mum wore it every day of her life, and I'm sure she wears it still."

Tonks was still looking very sad. "That makes my book story seem a little silly really," she said.

"It most certainly does not!" he exclaimed. As Tonks occupied herself with getting some more chocolate, still looking rather subdued, Remus was suddenly deep in thought.

Tonks's birthday was in one week's time, her third since they had met but her first since becoming a couple. On her twenty-third birthday, as they had been nothing more than friends, Sirius had purchased a bottle of mead to give to her from the two of them, Remus had made a birthday cake, and they had enjoyed a little party in the kitchen of Grimmauld place, joined by Dedalus, Mundungus, Hestia and Emmeline Vance.

Last year, he wasn't sure what they had been, lost as they were in some painful place between friendship and more, but in any case he had been deep in the throngs of a vicious werewolf pack from Christmas through to March and had not spoken to her at all on her birthday.

This year they were married, and for weeks now he had been worrying about what to get her as a gift. They had agreed on no Christmas presents, and that was fine with him, but birthdays were different. On a birthday, a husband should buy his wife a gift.

How did one buy their wife a gift without any gold?

He had been completely truthful to say that he had no gold other than in his vault at Gringotts, in which sat a miniscule pile of coins. But he did have something else.

That evening, while Tonks took a long, hot bath, Remus took out the little box that he kept in his old trunk at the back of their wardrobe and opened it with slightly trembling fingers. There were only a few items inside it:

A few photographs, including one of his parents' wedding day. Lyall and Hope Lupin smiled up at him, Hope already pregnant, blissfully unaware that the child growing inside her would be tainted with a horrible and difficult affliction in just a few years' time.

An ornate broach that had belonged to his mother.

A tiny silver pin with a badger on it. His father had been a Hufflepuff.

Gold cufflinks. A coming-of-age gift from the other marauders that only wore on the most special of occasions.

Letters, a few from his mother dating back to his first years at Hogwarts, a couple that Lily had sent him after she and James were forced to go into hiding – the last words he had ever received from her. One from Dora - the card and letter he had received from her that first Christmas at Grimmauld place, the one that had made him so happy, and a couple that Harry had sent him, the year before.

And finally, two other pieces of paper; not letters, but muggle money. They were all that had remained of his pay from his last ever job in the muggle world, in a lonely, desolate textile factory, before Dumbledore had come and offered him a role at Hogwarts. And he had kept them ever since, never changing them from their original form, purely for their symbolic value – a reminder of those final dark, lonely days before he had come back to Hogwarts, reconnected with Harry, discovered Sirius's innocence. Even though he could have got a couple of Galleons in exchange for them, the thin paper notes stood for so much more - a reminder that he never wanted to go back to that grey existence again, ostracising himself from the wizarding world and shutting out everything that had ever mattered to him.

He had something that mattered to him now. More than anything ever had before. And he never intended to shut out that part of his life again.

Making his decision, Remus took the two notes from the box, and put them in his pocket.

oooo

The red door looked the same as it always had, although it had no doubt had several new coats of paint since he had last been here. A bell sounded somewhere in the shop as he pushed it open, and Remus came forward and said hello to the young man behind the counter.

"How can I help you sir?"

"I'm looking for a book that my wife had as a child... I don't know exactly what it's called, but it's about a chocolate factory."

"I'm guessing that might be Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?" the young man asked, a bit of a grin on his face. Remus decided not to feel offended at the blatant mockery. He supposed that Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was as commonplace in the muggle world as Babbity Rabbitty was in his. If someone went into Flourish and Blots and asked vaguely for a book about a rabbit and a cackling stump, they might get a bit of a cheeky retort in return as well.

He nodded.

"Yes, I think so."

The man collected himself and resumed his polite, customer-facing tone.

"You want Dahl for that sir, up the stairs and round the corner in the children's section. We tend to have a fair few of his in stock at any one time."

Remus smiled his thanks and went upstairs. Sure enough, when he had found the shelf he was looking for, there were several versions of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory available, one very battered paperback version that was almost falling apart, a plain black edition with the title stamped across it in gold, a couple that were brightly coloured and childlike, with rough, sketchy figures on the front cover. And there, at the end of the row, a hardback copy, clearly slightly older but with no visible signs of damage, its cover depicting several figures standing round an odd-looking machine which had brightly coloured tubes issuing from the top.

His heart beating slightly faster, Remus removed the book from the shelf. This must be a copy of the edition that Dora had been talking about, and he could see immediately what had attracted little Nymphie Tonks to this book, with its bright colouring and fun patterns, its bubble gum pink writing and the cartoon bird logo of some muggle publisher in the top right corner.

There was no price on the books, but he had expected this. He knew this shop. He picked up the hardback copy, and one of the coloured paperback versions as well, and headed back down to the counter.

"How much is each?" he said tentatively to the young man.

"That one - " the lad indicated the blue and purple version in Remus's right hand. "That'll be four ninety-nine. But this one will be more expensive." He examined it quickly. "Yep, that one's sixteen pounds. It's a much older version that. Not first edition of course," he said, nodding wisely. "That would be a whole different kettle of fish, but early enough that it fetches a decent price at the moment. Worth it though!" he added, seeming to remember his job as salesperson. "It's in great condition! And I always feel that the older versions are much nicer and more authentic– you get those ones," he nodded to the cheaper one, "in any old shop."

Remus swallowed with difficulty, and stared down at the books in his hand, his heart sinking. Six muggle pounds short. A quick mental calculation told him that was over a galleon. He thought of the miniscule heap of coins in his vault at Gringotts, that had not been added to since a small freelance research job that he had managed to wangle a couple of years back, under an alias, during his time living at Grimmauld Place. The pile of coins from that job had diminished, little by little, over the year that had followed Sirius's death, but the pitiful amount that remained had been untouched since his marriage to Dora, on her absolute insistence that an Auror's income – even a disgraced, temporarily out of work Auror - would do them both nicely for now, thank you very much.

He could easily ask the young man to keep the book back for him, apparate quickly to London and get out the remaining money he needed for it. The prospect of going anywhere near Diagon Alley at the moment was not a pleasant one, and as to what Dora would say if she ever found out that he had taken out nearly a third of his remaining, pitiful savings "just" to buy her a birthday present, he didn't like to think.

Using the muggle notes was one thing – he had never intended on spending them at all. Their symbolic value had always been far greater than their monetary value, and only something as important as a first ever birthday present to his beloved wife could have convinced him to change his mind. But using his last few remaining wizard coins, which he was keeping there for the worst of emergencies, when who knew when he may be able to add to that pile again… that felt different somehow.

Of course, he could just use one of the notes to buy the other edition. The story would be exactly the same, the cover was just about colourful enough for Dora, and she would be very happy with it. He could even use the extra pounds to get her something extra, maybe another book by the same author that she had talked about.

But when his eyes switched to older book, he felt a yearning tug in his chest as he pictured Dora's face on seeing it again.

Don't be ridiculous, it's just a stupid muggle children's book. Hardly the gift of the century, whichever one you go for.

While he was agonising, a tiny little lady with grey curly hair came out of the back room. "Olly, darling, could you just change these notes for me. And did you count up that order from Thursday? Oh, I'm so sorry sir, I didn't see you there."

Remus smiled at the little woman, recognising her instantly but not expecting any recognition in return. The woman, however, looked back at him in surprise, her light blue eyes widening.

"John Lupin? It can't be! Is that you?"

Remus blinked. John Lupin was a name he hadn't heard for many years, but of course that is what she would have known him as. His middle name, that he had regularly used as a low-lying outcast in the muggle world, on the basis that John drew far less negative attention and suspicion than the more outlandish Remus.

He smiled and nodded.

"Hello Mrs Farley, I didn't think you would remember me."

"Of course I remember you! I know it's been a good long while, but my memory isn't quite gone yet you know. And you were always such a good lad, with all that extra help you gave us in the storeroom, working late shifts and everything, and reading to Olly here when we were busy. I felt so awful when Alan let you go like that-" she broke off, turning red.

Remus just shrugged his normal, mellow acceptance of such matters. He had had far more devastating blows since then of course, both work-related and otherwise, but it would have been a lie to say that he had not been disappointed when he had lost his job in this quaint little book shop. The pay hadn't been terrible, the work fairly interesting, and although Alan Farley had been a cranky and sometimes downright unpleasant employer, his wife Catherine had been the complete opposite; gentle and kindly company, sympathetic and motherly, often sending him home with a big helping of one of her lovely homecooked meals. Just a couple of years after the fall of Voldemort, the wound caused by the loss of his parents and his dearest friends had still been open and raw, and her soft presence had soothed that ever so slightly.

Their son, Olly, who Remus now knew to be the youth behind the counter, had been a dark-haired and solemn three-year-old at the time, and Remus had often preferred to stay in the shop and read to him in the evenings, keeping him occupied while his parents were finalising the daily sales, rather than go back to his own dank, lonely flat. This had often been accompanied by an ache of sadness in his chest that it wasn't Harry sitting there and listening to him so intently, back in the cosy sitting room at Godric's Hollow.

It'll be your own child soon, a small voice in his head piped up, as he remembered those wistful feelings, and he felt the customary leap in his stomach – the somersault of completely wild joy, so free of panic or fear - that he still had trouble recognising despite its frequent appearances.

He smiled back at her.

"It's not your fault, Mrs Farley, I'd already missed a lot of shifts, and that last morning was just one time too many."

"Well yes I know dear, but I also know you weren't in good health at the time, and that is hardly your fault is it." She smiled gently at him, "I hope you are better now?"

Remus considered this. Health-wise, not really, he supposed. But happiness-wise, more so than he could ever put into words.

"What is it your buying?" she enquired, looking embarrassed at his hesitation, her gaze falling on the books in his hand. "Ooh, lovely. Such a fun book. Is it for someone in particular?"

He hesitated, but here, at least, was someone who had no reason at all to judge him for his decision to marry and have a child. "My wife," he said. The words, after all these months, still felt strange. "It was her favourite book when she was a child," he added. "And we'd like to read it to our baby, when it's born."

Catherine beamed. "Oh, how wonderful! Well, you simply must have that one!" she pointed to the hardback version. "Such a pretty cover, and you don't see that many of them around anymore. Not like these funny ones," she gestured to the scratchy illustrations on the other cover. "Call me old fashioned. I'm sure illustrations like that are very artistic in their own way, but I just think they look a bit strange!"

Remus hesitated, and tried his hardest not to go red. He had almost made his decision to get the cheaper one before she had come out, on the basis that it was the sensible, practical thing to do, and times of war really did call for common sense and practicality. But now he felt that temptation again, to make up some excuse about running to a cash machine, go to Gringotts for the remainder, and hurry back as fast as he could. Surely he'd be able to replenish his vault a little at some point, somehow, soon… and Dora would never need to know how much the book had actually cost.

"It's on us of course!" the little lady added, watching him closely.

"No, no!" Remus really did go red at this. Please, not more charity. "Absolutely not! I couldn't possibly."

"A gift to you," she said. "I insist. As a congratulations and a thank you for the extra work you did all those years ago. Alan didn't pay you nearly enough as it was. Here, Olly, run it through on code one please, and I'll get a little bag for you in case it's still raining out there."

Remus felt quite desperate as both the book and the matter were taken completely out of his hands. How on earth was he supposed to explain to this lovely old lady who he hadn't seen for fifteen years and, even back then, had barely known, how vitally important it was that he paid for this book, that it was his gift to buy. But then Catherine Farley turned around on her way to the cupboard at the back. "Of course," she continued, sounding very casual, but giving him a look of kind understanding. "If you wanted to put some money in the collecting tin, we'd be most grateful for any donations however big or small. We're raising money for the local hospital, all proceeds going to the children's ward for long term illnesses. It's actually a very personal cause to us."

Remus hesitated a fraction of a second longer, but then nodded gratefully at her. Charity for charity. It still wasn't ideal, but he supposed that he could live with it under the circumstances. He took both paper notes from his pocket and stuffed them into the little collection tin, and she handed him the bag.

"Thank you, John," she smiled.

"Thank you, Mrs Farley, sincerely. This means a lot."

Walking out of shop, Remus looked a sadly back at the little red door. Concealing himself in the alley just next to it, he took out his wand and cast a couple of swift charms that would at least contribute to their protection, should unsavoury characters come calling in the area, before disappearing back to his own home with a pop.

25th January 1998

Just a week later, Remus sat in the kitchen, attempting to charm some of Fred and George's chocolate into a model of the Hogwarts castle. The birthday cake had been easy enough to make, and now sat on the table, oozing chocolate cream. However, he was starting to think that he may have been a bit overambitious in the decoration.

"Well, at least that settles one thing," he grumbled to himself, as a couple of the turrets crumbled at the top. "There's no way Dahl was secretly a wizard. Otherwise he would have known that being able to charm chocolate into a large intricate building is a load of dragon crap."

About an hour later, however, he was fairly happy with what he had achieved. A reasonably accurate Hogwarts castle sat on top of the cake. The little book lay wrapped in bright paper on the table, and a couple of huge colour-changing balloons were hung up in the kitchen.

Tonks, who had been banished from the kitchen while he worked, was in the living room doing some kind of gentle stretching routine that Fleur had recommended, when he heard the knock on the front door.

"That'll be Mum," she called. "I'll get it."

"Hi Mum!" he heard her say. "Come in! Remus is doing something secret in the kitchen that I'm not allowed to see."

Deciding that the job he had done was the best he was going to get, Remus came out of the kitchen and into the sitting room.

"Hi Andromeda."

"Hello Remus." She gave him a warm smile.

Definite progress.

"This is for you." Andromeda handed Tonks several containers of food.

"Mum – you didn't have to do that…"

"I know, I know, but who doesn't love a home cooked meal from their mother? I don't of course, but I'm generally the exception. And," she went on. "I know you said no gifts, but I couldn't not get you anything on your twenty-fifth birthday. It's a Golden Birthday, you know, when the date matches your age. So I hope if you won't accept something for yourself then you will at least accept something for your baby."

She held out a large basket, lined with soft material and containing several gifts. Tonks grinned in delight as she took some of the items out, inspecting them. Tiny little baby jump suits, bibs, some toys, furry slippers with little rabbits on them - the rabbits were blinking up at them earnestly - and a mobile that glowed different colours depending on how awake the baby was.

"Thanks Mum," Tonks said softly. "They are beautiful."

Remus stared at the gifts, suddenly feeling a little bit hollow. Beautiful though they were, he had been proud of his own gift until then, excited to see Dora's face when she opened it. Now, in comparison to the shiny, new presents that Andromeda had brought, it suddenly seemed wholly inadequate.

Before he could dwell too much on this, Tonks turned to him.

"Am I allowed in the kitchen yet?"

"Err.. yes. Go on then."

She bounced past him and her eyes lit up at the sight of the cake.

"Oh my- Remus that's amazing! Did you do that?"

"Yes," he smiled. "It's not the neatest job in the world, and I'm not much of an artist, but-"

"I love it," she said excitedly, hugging him tightly. Remus, for a fleeting second, could picture her as a six-year-old again, high on sugar and excitement. "It looks too good to eat." She immediately reached out and took a tiny bit of the icing and Remus just raised an eyebrow.

"Also." His heart was thumping stupidly as he held out the package, feeling stupidly nervous. "This is for you."

Her expression changed to one of confusion.

"Remus, we said no gifts," she protested.

"No, we said no Christmas gifts," he corrected her. "Nothing at all about birthdays."

"But-"

"It's a really small thing, honestly," he said hurriedly, very aware that Andromeda was watching silently from the doorway of the kitchen. "Barely anything at all."

"Yeah but still-" She pulled off the paper and her face changed again as she stared down at the book cover, taking in the illustration, turning it over in her hands to read the blurb on the back.

"Where did you get this?" she breathed.

"A shop I used to know."

"But - but it's exactly like the one I used to have."

"I thought it seemed like the one you had described. I'm pretty sure it's not the exact same book Dora. That would be way too much of a coincidence. I was lucky they had it in stock at all."

She was staring down at the book, a very strange expression on her face.

"I know it's not much," he said anxiously, concerned by her silence. He was also worried about what Andromeda must think, watching him from the corner. Nothing but a ragged old book for her daughter's birthday. "I just thought, after our chat the other day-"

She cut him off by throwing her arms round his neck.

"Thank you," she whispered. She hugged him tighter, words not quite enough to express how she was feeling.

After several long moments they broke apart and she added. "This is so cool. A book about Golden Tickets for my Golden Birthday!"

"Total coincidence," he laughed. "I haven't a clue what the book is about. Other than being about a chocolate factory. And a boy called Charlie."

"Well then you'll just have to read it to me later. It can be my bedtime story."

He burst out laughing. Grown up wartime Auror one second, five-year-old the next. Just as she always had been. But he was secretly excited to have an excuse to read this book that she was so keen on.

"Of course I will."

She grinned.

"Can we have cake now?"

"I thought you said it looked too good to eat."

"I think you're imagining things again… Come on, I want to make my birthday wish."

oooo

Later, when Tonks had disappeared off on one of her many trips to the bathroom, and it was just Andromeda and Remus alone in the kitchen, Andromeda picked up the book from the table. Remus felt himself tense up a little, but a very soft expression was on Andromeda's elegant features.

"I remember this book," she murmured, opening the front cover and looking at the title page, "and the row that ensued when I gave all her old books away. I thought that she hadn't touched them in years, I truly didn't do it to be difficult. She was so upset when she found it had gone, but far too stubborn to ever let me try and make amends for it. I didn't realise for ages, until Ted told me, that it had been a gift from Joan – his mother," she clarified quickly.

Remus could only nod.

"They were close, you know, her and her grandmother," Andromeda went on. "Ted's father quite an intimidating man – lovely in his own way, but very brusque. Joan was different. Gentle, like Ted, and absolutely adored Nymphadora. She would take her round their land and show her all the animals, letting her milk the cows and feed the horses. Threatening not to let her visit the farm on weekends turned out to be a great producer of model behaviour."

Remus laughed softly.

"She died only four years ago, but the last few years of her life were spent in a muggle care home, with -dementia, I think they call it. Nymphadora used to visit her in her school holidays, but she barely recognised her. A very different person from that little lady who used to give her donkey rides around the farm."

Andromeda put the book back on the table as they heard the clumsy baby elephant like footsteps of Tonks coming back downstairs.

"You said it wasn't much Remus, but I can assure you, this book means far more to her than you could possibly imagine."

He smiled awkwardly, a little embarrassed. But in his mind's eye, he saw a bright orange stone, hanging round the neck of a pretty, dark-haired woman, a tiny dragonfly glinting in its centre. He thought that, possibly, he could imagine.