Chapter 96: Wednesday, May 1, 2002

"Ultimately, the bond of all companionship, whether in marriage or friendship, is conversation."

-Oscar Wilde

"Hermione!"

Hermione looked up from the cauldron she was working over, her hand stilling the ladle she was using to fill the blood replenishment vials. Ron's voice bellowed again from downstairs before she heard a thundering of footsteps in the stairwell.

"Hermione, hey—I yelled for you!" Ron puffed, slightly out of breath, as he leaned against the wall.

"I did hear you...it would have been difficult not to," Ron stuck his tongue out at her and she chuckled, shaking her head "What's the problem?"

"Problem?"

"Well, I assume by the way you were yelling, there's an issue that needs my assistance?"

"Oh, no. Everything's okay," he waved off her concern and smiled brightly. "Charlie and Tonks just came in from Romania, he said he had something for you."

"Oh! Excellent!" Hermione set the ladle to the side and clapped her hands once before reaching for the stoppers to seal the phials. "Okay, I'll be down in a moment. Is Remus down there?"

"Yeah, talking with Bill, I think. Bloody weird it's gonna be to introduce him to Tonks, isn't it?" Ron said, his face pulling into a slight grimace.

"Why would it be weird?" Hermione deadpanned, blinking up at Ron as he crossed the room.

"Well, just that they were engaged, you know?" Ron suggested, falling onto the stool beside her and reaching for a phial. Hermione handed him a seal and waited for him to continue as he pressed the stopper into the tube. "And, you guys are a thing now and...dunno. Just seems like it's gonna be weird."

Hermione sealed the last bottle and vanished the lingering remnants of the potion before sliding the tube into its slot in the wooden case that held her back ups and turning to face Ron, plucking the phial from his hand. "He has no knowledge of what they were or will be to each other. It isn't weird."

"If you say so, 'Mione," Ron murmured, eyebrows raised and sounding unconvinced.

"I do," she replied, snapping the case shut.

He gave her a small, sheepish smile. "Alright, then. Well, come down, won't you? I think they're staying a while but I imagine mum will want to do up a nice dinner tonight."

Hermione returned his smile, "I'm sure she will. I'm just going to finish cleaning up and I'll be down."

Ron bobbed his head a few times and shot her another lopsided grin before giving a quick, one-armed embrace and heading back down to the lower level. Hermione blew out a long-held breath as she watched him disappear through the doorway. Truth be told—it was very weird that Tonks would be meeting Remus and some strange part of her felt an odd form of jealousy roil in her gut.

Hermione knew that Remus had no idea what Tonks would eventually be to him and that she had no right to feel jealousy. But, there was still something deep and primal that screamed mine every time she thought about it. She knew it was only a matter of time before the two would meet and it was without doubt she thought Tonks would find it just as straining and complicated as she did. However, she didn't want to let on that she was uncomfortable with it—because, really, what did she have to be uncomfortable with? It was silly—she knew that. Still, she couldn't ignore the twinge in the back of her neck or the slight burn on the inside of her thigh every time she thought about it.

As she finished packing away her things, she wondered if this was what Remus felt like all the time. Did he, too, feel territorial and jealous? Hermione was essentially surrounded by all of her past affairs….she decided resolutely that she would not divulge that information to Remus unless he directly asked.

It didn't matter anyway. Every single one of the men in this house could approach her nude and covered in galleons and she knew the only one she would have eyes for was a full head taller than even George and covered in a roadmap of beautiful, twisting scars.

With the mentally supplied image of Remus in all his glory covered in galleons sitting firmly in her mind, she chuckled to herself and made her way down the stairs, following the booming voice of Charlie Weasley.

She had sent a letter to Charlie a month ago, asking if there was a possibility that on his next trip to the Shack, he could bring with him a few samples of Dragon's Blood. She knew it was probably unlikely that the potion base that the Death Eaters were using for the werewolves was Dragon's Blood, but it wouldn't hurt to look. And, given it was extremely expensive usually, she thought it only made sense to beg for help from someone who could (hopefully) procure it for free.

"Wotcher, Hermione!" Tonks smiled as she crashed into Hermione the moment she entered the room. Tonks held her in a crushing hug, "Missed you lot!"

"We've missed you too," Hermione laughed, returning the embrace and waving at Charlie over Tonks' shoulder. "Hi, Charlie!"

"Hey, Hermione! Good to see you, love."

Hermione felt her cheeks warm, a silly school-girl response to the affectionate tone Charlie always used. She felt the territorial irritation she had been feeling only moments prior dissipate almost instantly, happy to have Charlie and Tonks standing before her.

Worrying about her friends had been second nature to Hermione from a young age. Given how her first year at Hogwarts went, it was hardly a surprise that she spent an inordinate amount of time fussing and worrying over the people she cared about. But, through the years, she found that she had to compartmentalize when it came to her friends—particularly where The Order was involved. Out of sight, out of mind was mostly how she approached it these days. If she spent time bellyaching over Tonks and Charlie in Romania, and Terry and Penelope at the Ministry, and Luna and Ginny when they left to forage for moonflowers at night—she would waste away into nothing.

It was the same tactic she had adopted when Remus was sent out on missions. Well, more or less. She would admit that there were a few people that were closest to her that she still worried over when they weren't around.

"Harry around?" Tonks asked, eyes scanning the room.

"Patrolling around Hogwarts, I think," Ginny offered. "He and Remus went with—"

"Remus?" Tonks interjected, shaking her head and blinking a few times, trying to make sense of what Ginny had said. "What d'you mean, 'Remus'?"

Ginny shot Hermione an apologetic look before hissing a "shut up!" at Draco when he mumbled "Nice going, Red," under his breath.

Hermione sighed and motioned toward the table. "There are a few things we should probably talk about."

Remus quite liked Harry.

Not that he ever doubted that he would, but he had been guilty of avoiding him since his arrival. He was such an achingly familiar blend of James and Lily that it was jarring at first. But, now, as they walked along the perimeter of the castle doing a routine patrol, he decided that Harry was a lot of fun. He had a quick, sarcastic wit that Lily had shared and all the bravado of James. Even with the striking similarities to his parents, he was completely different in other aspects.

"...So, we patrol the grounds every few days or so. McGonagall lets us stay in the Shack as long as we put the safety of the students in high priority and the place has been warded so heavily… I'm honestly a little surprised you were even able to get to it."

Remus pushed up his sleeves a bit, the spring sun hot on the thick jumper he wore. "I think it's because of the whole mates thing."

"Mates thing?" Harry asked, slowing his pace to look at Remus.

"She didn't tell you...of course, she didn't. Why would she? I wouldn't go offering it up if I were her, she probably—"

"You're doing it again," Harry said, patiently, giving Remus a pointed look.

"I—what?"

"Spiraling. You're getting all…" Harry rolled his head on his shoulder and tapped his temple with his index finger, "...in your head about how rubbish of a person you are and drowning yourself. You should really stop doing that, mate."

I like this one.

You don't get an opinion.

He's telling you to stop being such a nancy.

He's telling me to have confidence in myself.

Another person has just told you to stop being a nancy. Call it what you want, nancy boy.

Sod off, would you? I like you better when I take that potion.

That potion can go to hell.

Get used to it, Mutt.

Fuck you.

Remus barely contained the eyeroll he felt before he cleared his throat and looked at Harry, "Sorry. I'll erm—I'll work on it."

"Good," Harry said, giving a quick upward twitch of his lips before picking up his pace to the quick steps he had previously been marching in. "So when you say 'mates', you mean like...werewolf mates, yeah? Like, you marked her or something?"

Remus nodded, "Yeah."

"And she didn't turn?" Harry asked, shooting Remus a curious look.

"No, it's not a mark during the full moon."

"So, what's it do?"

Remus sighed, feeling extremely uncomfortable. "It er—ties our erm...ties our magic together."

"Like a bonding ritual at a wedding?" Harry offered, slowing his pace again to look at Remus, "I've seen that before—when Bill and Fleur got married."

"Not exactly," Remus explained, grasping for the right way to explain it. "Do you know what an imprint is?"

"Oh, yeah. Like, with a familiar, right? They basically decide that you're theirs and that's that."

"Essentially. My wolf basically imprinted on Hermione the moment I laid eyes on her. But, well, it's not quite the same as that. I don't really get a choice. Werewolves have mates, sometimes they find them, more often than not they don't because who wants to be mated to a fucking werewolf?"

"Hermione, apparently." Harry chuckled.

"Apparently," Remus agreed. "I didn't want to mark her—"

"You don't love her?"

Remus stopped in his tracks, causing Harry to stop as well. "I love her more than there are grains of sand on the earth."

Harry smiled and raised his hands in surrender, "Okay, okay. I believe you. So...what, then? You didn't want to mark her for some really stupid 'I'm a werewolf' reason?"

"It's not a stupid reason," Remus scoffed. "She has no choice now. If she wanted to love someone else, she can't. If she finally wakes up and realizes one day that she deserves so much better—"

"Can I share something with you?" Harry interrupted, looking thoughtful.

"Er—yeah. Yeah, of course."

"Have you heard what they call me in this time? Malfoy likes to make fun of it but, you may have seen it in The Prophet or something."

"The Boy Who Lived." Remus supplied, "It was all over the papers even back in the eighties."

"That one's old news, mate. I'm 'The Chosen One' now," Harry wiggled his fingers, adding a little flair to the words as he laughed. "Sometimes they say 'The Vanquisher' which sounds much cooler, doesn't it? The Saviour, I've heard here and there, which is a little too...Sunday afternoon for me, I think. Anyway, I think you could argue that I'm pretty well known. A lot of people seem to think I'm the best thing that's happened to the Wizarding World."

"Modest," Remus chuckled, "Very humble of you."

Harry barked a laugh, "I'm getting to my point—what I mean is, I have all this...I dunno, status? And even me—The Chosen One, The Vanquisher, the Golden Boy—even I spend twenty three of the twenty four hours a day thinking that Blaise will finally realize he deserves someone better than me. There are thousands of people who truly believe there is no one better than Harry Potter. But, I still spend every single day thinking that there is someone better than Harry Potter for Blaise Zabini."

"Okay…" Remus trailed off, struggling to see the point of this.

Harry sighed and ruffled his hair up, "You aren't alone in thinking you aren't good enough for the people you love. I think that's just our nature, honestly," he gave a shrug and drew in a slow breath, huffing it out before continuing. "The trick is to realize that, even if you think they deserve something better than you, they want you. Marked or not, mate or not, Hermione wanted—wants—you, mate. It's that simple, really."

Harry had inherited another trait from James, it would seem. A disgustingly romantic view on relationships and love and life in general. But, there was something in the earnest expression that Harry wore while his eyes bore into Remus' that left Remus feeling vulnerable but heard. Something that said, you aren't alone and it's okay to be scared. And in a very un-Remus-like move, he swept Harry into a hug, thankful that he still had James and Lily's voice of love and reason to talk him from the edge.

Our pup Moony's voice in Remus' head sounded fond and proud.

He's older than we are, now.

Still our pup. Still James and Lily. Family.

Family.Remus agreed.

He smiled to himself. Very rarely did Remus agree on anything with Moony, but it seemed that with every passing day here, Moony calmed. Being near Hermione, he knew, had a lot to do with it. However, he suspected the feeling of being welcomed as family—and feeling useful—had helped, as well. Remus had discovered in the six months before his arrival that a helpless werewolf did not make a great companion.

"It's that simple," Remus repeated.

"I'm not sure if you ever figured it out before," Harry stated after returning Remus' hug and falling back into step. "But, you'll find that the people who matter here don't mind that you're a werewolf, Remus. We care about you and you've been bloody helpful to us."

Remus felt his face flush with embarrassment. He was never good at people being so direct with their affections toward him. In fact, more than once when Hermione had gripped his arm or placed a hand on his thigh when she had first come around, he would awkwardly dismiss himself from the room.

Lily had, for some odd reason, been one of the few people he never shied away from. He always thought it had something to do with the way she radiated kindness and empathy, even at her most furiously irritated. It would seem that perhaps Harry shared that same energy, if a bit more on the chaotic side like James.

Their walk back to the shack was long but pleasant. Remus enjoyed being in Harry's presence. He felt comfortable talking to him and learning about him. He asked him everything he could think to ask him about how his life was growing up. He felt a little enraged to know that Lily's own sister had treated Harry so poorly but, according to him, there was no love lost there. He hadn't seen the woman since the day he left Privet Drive and had no intentions of seeing her ever again.

"I miss them," Remus sighed as they began their trek to the Whomping Willow. "I keep thinking about what would have happened if I would have been home, if Hermione hadn't been whisked away if your dad…" he trailed off, feeling emotion bubble in his chest and swallowing it down.

"My dad knew that things would happen the way they were supposed to," Harry shrugged. "Things are pretty cut and dry like that sometimes, you know? And, I reckon time travel is one of them. Either you fuck up the entire timeline or things happen because you had your hand in it. It's all confusing, if you ask me. But, he seemed to at least understand that much."

"But things could have been so different for you," Remus implored.

"Yeah, probably for you, too—and 'Mione. But, I like my life, for the most part…" He trailed off, chuckling a bit to himself. "I mean, I'd much prefer not to be fighting a war but, I have good friends. I have family. I have Blaise. Don't need much else, really."

With precise aim and an "Immobulus Maxima" Harry stopped the Whomping Willow from walloping them across the green. Remus felt temporarily stupid for his lack of thought with that particular spell to calm the tree. It was so simple and genius, it almost made him irritated that he hadn't thought of it before. They clambered on through the passageway, finally coming to a set of narrow stairs that led to the ground floor of the Shrieking Shack.

The 'Welcoming Room'—as Harry liked to call it—was a dingy, small space that housed many potions that bubbled and steamed and swirled in their cauldrons. Draco sat over a small table, counting to himself as he stirred a potion that was beginning to smoke a bit and Remus could smell the stench that was the Wolfsbane potion.

"Thank you," Remus said, stepping toward Draco.

Draco held up a hand, "Seventy-one, seventy-two, seventy-three…" he set the silver stirring stick aside and adjusted the flame on the bottom "I'm not fond of the idea of transforming into a werewolf every month. My skin has enough scars without inflicting them on myself, thank you." Draco gave a pointed look to Harry and Harry rolled his eyes.

"I've apologized for that."

"But, I do love to watch you squirm Potter."

"Wanker."

"Tosser."

"Blood traitor," Harry said, with a smirk.

Draco laughed, "Takes one to know one, doesn't it? Anyway, Tonks and Charlie are here and while my cousin is lovely she is also loud. I'll be down here, if you don't mind." Draco shuffled a few ingredients around on the table before stretching his arms above his head and gave Harry a severe look, "Don't let her come down here, Lupin won't have Wolfsbane for the next full moon if she bumbles about and knocks my cauldrons over."

"Noted. Have you seen Blaise today?" Harry asked, leaning over a cauldron and reaching out to poke at a particularly slimy looking pod.

Draco smacked Harry's hand away, "I believe he went with Justin and Pansy to the Ministry. Penelope sent a letter requesting a few people come in so she could give some documents under the guise of an audit, I guess."

"Oh?" Harry sounded intrigued, "Remus, you can go ahead up. I know you're dying to see Hermione," Harry smirked. "Tell them I'll be up after I talk with Malfoy for a bit?"

Remus bobbed his head a few times and headed up the stairs, thankful that the addition of the Wolfsbane potion last moon gave some reprieve to his already demolished knees. He had sustained next to no injuries, nothing more than a few minor aches and bruises that were bound to come with transformation. It had been a very welcomed change of pace for his day after.

As he reached the top of the stairs and pushed open the door that led to the main floor of the Shack, he was met with the raucous sound of laughter. In the midst of which, he could pluck out the melody of Hermione's giggle and he felt himself smile. Coming here had seemed like a desperate attempt to latch on to something that was dead, but he was becoming increasingly more comfortable with the decision.

There were a crowd of Weasleys sitting around the table accompanied by a small, almost spritely blonde girl who Remus had learned was called Luna. Her mother had been two years ahead of him at Hogwarts and he remembered, albeit vaguely, the same eccentric, glazed over look that adorned her face. Theo was sitting next to Bill, and seemed to be in a deep conversation about what Remus could only imagine was some overly dull subject—probably grilling Bill for information on some strange charm or spell he had discovered or came up with. Terry Boot, a dark haired man the same age as Hermione and Harry, was laughing loudly as a stocky, bearded red headed man told a story.

"You'd be surprised how easy it is to convince a few Snatchers to walk into a Dragon's den," the bearded man said.

"Charlie!" Molly admonished.

"Charlie?" Remus whispered. Well, he thought he had whispered it. But, it seemed everyone had heard him and Charlie looked up staring at him for a moment before screwing up his face in confusion.

"Blimey. Hermione told us what happened, but it really is you. You still make those chocolate biscuits like you used to bring us?" Charlie asked, standing up to shake Remus' hand. "Good to see you, mate."

"Yeah. You too."

"It really is you."

The voice came, shocked and breathy, from just behind Charlie's left shoulder. Remus hadn't even noticed the woman standing there at first glance, but now that he looked at her, he couldn't understand how he had missed her. Her hair was an outstanding shade of pink and stuck up in a spiky cut that (painfully) reminded him of Dorcas. As his eyes pulled away from the shock that was her hair and landed on her face, he felt his chest pull uncomfortably tight.

Her eyes were darker, more blue and her nose wasn't quite right but that was the face of a Black. The high cheek bones and heart shaped jawline were unmistakable and though she had a much more relaxed stance than any Black he'd ever come across, the set of her shoulders and inquisitive tilt to her head were so much like Sirius he felt nauseous.

The name—Harry had said it only minutes ago and he hadn't even registered it until now. Tonks. As in Ted and Andromeda Tonks. As in…

"Nymphadora," Remus breathed the name in a whisper, his brows drawn together. "Holy shit."

Her face pulled in disgust as she grumbled, "Just Tonks, please. My mother found it suitable to give me such a ridiculous name."

"Fuck, you look so much like Sirius," Remus said, unable to stop himself.

"Yeah, that always did freak you out. Hang on a 'mo, I'll change it."

Just as Remus was about to ask what she meant by that, she screwed her face up as if she was thinking very hard. Her mouth twisted off to the side and her nose scrunched up to her squinted eyes. When her face relaxed, her eyes were even darker, more indigo, and her jawline was softer, her cheekbones dropped down slightly.

"Better?"

"You're a metamorphmagus?" Remus asked, astonished.

"You aren't the only rare thing to walk into a room! It's good to see you again, and look at you...so young and fit! Good on you, Hermione!" Tonks laughed as she caught Hermione's eye, smiling brightly at her.

Hermione gave a strange, sort of uncomfortable looking smile and Remus got the feeling he was missing something.

"I knew you, didn't I?" Remus voiced, slowly putting two and two together.

"Well, you knew all of us, mate," Charlie supplied.

"Let's all sit down," Hermione suggested, moving forward to grab his hand and pull him to the table. He looked at her, quizzically, trying to decipher the look on her face. It looked almost like irritation, but he had seen that far more than he cared for. No, this was something a bit different.

Jealousy

Why would she be jealous? I haven't seen her since she was seven.

Shit, you really are dense. You moron. Jealousy of what you haven't seen yet, perhaps?

You think I had a relationship with Nymphadora? That's ridiculous—and weird.

You're a pretty fucking weird bloke, so I wouldn't put it past you.

"Remus," Hermione hummed, gently. Her hand gave his a light squeeze, pulling him from his own head. She always did know when he was talking to Moony and he had the habit of forgetting that not everyone around him knew he actually talked to the bloody beast.

"Sorry," Remus murmured.

Hermione gave a soft smile and then cleared her throat, "Well, um, you and Tonks were kind of an item...for a while. Years ago."

"An item?" Remus repeated, slowly. He pulled his eyes from Hermione to stare at Tonks in disbelief.

"We were engaged for a minute. Honest, it was probably a literal minute," Tonks supplied with a laugh.

"I...we...what?" He felt completely confused. He couldn't imagine a world—fuck that, a single moment—where he would want any one other than Hermione.

"I don't think it was love, really," Tonks explained. She shot an embarrassed look first to Hermione, then Charlie, and landed to stay on Remus. "Lust, sure. You were older and so handsome and all smart and broody and—"

"Dora," Charlie said, giving her a look that said get back on track.

"Right, sorry. Anyway, it was quick. We all thought we were going to die at any moment and well, I mean, we still could. But, when Voldemort was around it was so chaotic and terrifying all the time."

"Yeah, I understand," Remus mumbled, the fear of the last year of Voldemort's reign of power still lingering just under the surface.

"We were together for a few months and I thought...I'm sorry, it sounds so terrible to say it again. I thought I was in love with you, I really did. But, I knew you didn't love me that way. Not that you didn't care, because you did. Kind of your downfall isn't it? You always care. But, Charlie…" she gave Charlie a long look that Remus could see what she meant.

The way her eyes brightened just a bit more, the flush that crept slowly over her chest and up her neck, the way her smile was meant only for him. It was the same way he knew he looked at Hermione, the same look Hermione gave him. Remus didn't feel upset or angry, how could he? The last time he had seen the girl she was seven. He didn't know her, the way his older self had, or will, or whatever bloody tense he was to use when referring to the aging professor version of himself.

"I'm sorry, how everything went down, but you always deserved more than I could give you." Tonks continued, "We just weren't the right fit. Not like me and Charlie, not like you and Hermione now. But, I do need to…" she suddenly got very serious, her face drawing in and darkening slightly. She cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I'm the reason you died."

"What?" Hermione beat him to the question, her hand tightening around his, her brows pulled together. "What do you mean by that?"

"Dolohov sent a nasty curse my way," Tonks pulled at her bottom lip, turning her gaze to Hermione and took a slow breath. "Remus shoved me from it and shouted for me to get out of there and find cover and the curse hit him between the shoulders." She turned her head back to Remus, her eyes large and watery as she spoke, "I tried to resuscitate you, did every spell I could think of—everything I was taught in Auror training. It wasn't enough. Dead before you even hit the ground."

It was strange, knowing that he had died in battle while saving someone else's life. Part of him felt proud for the noble action, knowing that any of the Marauders—save, Peter, apparently—would have done the same. But, to know that he had flung himself in front of one of Dolohov's curses…

Was it done on purpose—for a reason aside from simply saving another's life? Had he still been so fucking miserable that he took a curse on the business end of Dolohov's wand simply because he knew it would end him?

Probably that one.

Probably.

"So, I mean, I just...thank you. Remus, I've wanted to thank you for years and I know that it wasn't you—not how you are now. But, I can't really thank a dead man. So, thank you."

Tonks stared at him, a hopeful smile on her face fading fast as he took a moment to think about what she had said. It was a lot of information to lay on someone at once and he understood what she meant about the gratitude she was showing, but she was right. He hadn't done anything. He had let his best friends die, his other best friend end up in prison, and who he thought was a friend betrayed them. He had left Hermione alone and in turn, she had disappeared and Harry had been left to muggles who couldn't be arsed to even give him a proper room.

He felt Hermione give his hand another squeeze and half-heartedly, he accepted the gratitude from Tonks with an uncomfortable smile and a niggling in the back of his mind that never ceased to present itself.

The way he looked at it, he deserved to die for someone else. It was the least he could do, really.

.

.

a/n: a lot of conversation in this one, what did you think? Let me know?

xo