28 June 1996

Grimmauld Place was now officially off-limits, as the ownership status remained up in the air. Remus hadn't bothered retrieving any of his meager possessions from the old townhouse, determined not to set foot in the building again unless he absolutely had to. Molly and Arthur had tried to coax him into staying at the Burrow until he was back on his feet, but Remus had refused, instead moving back into his derelict, old, three-room cottage on the Yorkshire moors. Once again, he was alone. There was no use in pretending otherwise.

Tonks was released from St. Mungo's on Monday, four days after the battle in the Department of Mysteries. She was also given a week's paid leave from Auror duties—which Moody suspected was Scrimgeour's manner of apologizing for buying into Fudge's lies over the past year. Remus, for his part, just hoped that Rufus Scrimgeour knew he would be apologizing for Fudge's missteps for the foreseeable future.

On Friday morning, the week after the battle, Remus lay in his bed for several moments, staring up at the ceiling. He had promised to meet Moody and the Weasleys outside Platform Nine and Three-Quarters that afternoon to have a talk with Harry's relatives before he went home with them for the summer, but he could not think of anything he wanted to do less.

He had done an impressive job keeping himself busy and distracted since the previous week, taking on numerous additional responsibilities for the Order and barely sitting still. But it was in quiet moments like this that Remus could feel the dull, paralyzing grief creeping back in, making him feel useless and empty. It was in moments like this that Remus had trouble remembering why he hadn't just run through that damned veil himself.

So, it was with great difficulty that Remus managed to apparate himself to King's Cross, an hour later—just minutes before the train was due to arrive.

He found the rest of the group already gathered outside the barrier. Moody was wearing his sinister bowler hat, which covered half his face. Molly and Arthur were wearing their Muggle best, looking quite mismatched and incongruous. Fred and George had turned up wearing the most obscene dragonskin jackets that Remus had ever seen. And Tonks was sporting a pair of heavily ripped and patched jeans, as well as a ridiculously purple T-shirt to rival her ridiculously pink hair. Remus glanced down at his own shabby coat and jumper, and, in spite of himself, he felt his lips twitch.

Sirius would have been thrilled to be part of this receiving committee.

Moody saw Remus first. "Lupin," he grunted, extending his hand as Remus approached.

Remus shook Moody's hand with a tight smile, then permitted Molly to pull him into her arms and squeeze him in a hug.

"You're too thin," she whispered as she drew back, eyeing him in concern.

Remus shook his head, smiling tighter still. "I'm all right."

Molly looked unconvinced, but she simply gave his arm a gentle pat as she turned around to the barrier again. And then, Remus looked at Tonks.

She looked drawn and pale, the cheerful smile on her face too bright to be believable. But she was alive—and when she reached out and gave Remus's hand a quick squeeze, Remus felt a small flicker of something familiar swell in his chest. But then, just as quickly, it disappeared back into the hollow, debilitating emptiness.

Suddenly, a train whistle trilled in the distance, and they all turned to face the barrier.

Ginny came through first, followed by Ron and Harry, with Hermione bringing up the rear. Molly put her arms around each of them and hugged them tightly. Remus even managed a genuine smile for a bewildered-looking Harry, who was plainly floored to see them all waiting for him. And then, as one highly eccentric-looking unit, they made their way over to where the Dursleys were huddled, looking horrified, at the other end of the station. Even Remus couldn't deny the satisfaction of watching Vernon Dursley jerk in terror every time Moody spoke.

But all too soon, Harry was gone, and Hermione followed soon after with her parents.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Arthur told Remus quietly, patting his shoulder, as he and Molly too said their goodbyes.

Remus nodded without meeting Arthur's eyes. It was to be their first Order meeting since the debacle in the Department of Mysteries, held at the Burrow. Remus was hardly looking forward to it.

Then, Tonks turned to him, reaching out and touching his hand. "Are you busy right now?" she asked him softly. "Shall we grab some lunch?"

Remus tightened his jaw at the expression on her face, filled with concern and tenderness. It made Remus want to run—far, far away. He couldn't believe he had allowed things to progress as much as they had.

"I can't," he said quietly. "I've got things to do. For Dumbledore."

Tonks blinked, and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. "What things?"

Remus shook his head. "I can't say."

Tonks's expression filled with hurt. "Remus, I—"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Tonks," he told her, mustering up something of a smile. "I'm…glad to see you're all right."

And with a final attempt at a friendly look, Remus turned and made his way out of the station, leaving Tonks standing alone by the barrier between platforms nine and ten.


10 July 1996

The Order meeting that evening ended with a moment of silence. The Order had lost its second member in three weeks. Stoic, stately, ever-present Emmeline Vance, whom Remus had always assumed to be invincible, had been murdered in her home.

Finally, with murmured goodbyes, the small knot of people seated at the Burrow's magically enlarged kitchen table dispersed. Kingsley and Dedalus Diggle led a tearful Hestia Jones toward the back door, while Elphias Doge and Sturgis Podmore Flooed to the Ministry for night shifts. Dumbledore, Snape, and Minerva left together, all sporting grim expressions; unable to help himself, Remus glanced once more at Dumbledore's newly blackened and withered hand as the headmaster slipped out of the kitchen.

Tonks tried to catch Remus's eye on her way out, but Moody ushered her toward the door before she could say anything. As they left, Remus was fairly sure he heard Moody grunt, "Give him space, lass."

"Care for a quick nightcap, Remus?"

Remus blinked, looking around. Arthur was smiling at him from the other end of the kitchen, where he had pulled two bottles of ale from the cooling cupboard. Remus hesitated for a moment. But then, he nodded, following Arthur back to the kitchen table and accepting one of the bottles.

"Thank you," Remus said quietly, and Arthur waved a hand.

For a moment, they sipped from their bottles in silence.

Then—

"You've been meeting with Dumbledore a lot, I've noticed," Arthur said mildly. He paused for a moment. "Are you allowed to discuss it?"

Remus took another sip of ale, considering. Then, he shrugged. "I suppose so," he said slowly, looking at Arthur. "Next month…I'll be attempting to gain entry into a werewolf pack in Wales."

Arthur nodded, his expression understanding. "More espionage around the full moons?"

Remus shook his head. "Er—not quite. You see, if everything works out…I'll actually be…going underground, for a while."

Arthur blinked, looking stunned. "Going underground? You don't mean…living with them?"

"I do," Remus bowed his head. "All of my full moon excursions to date have been unsuccessful, and it's because no werewolf in this country or the continent has any reason to trust me—I'm not one of them. If we can ever hope to have even a few of them on our side, I'll need to join them—prove to them that I truly want to understand my own kind. It's the only way."

Arthur's brows furrowed deeper. "Your kind…are wizards, Remus. You know that, don't you?"

Remus sighed, shaking his head. "I am what I am, Arthur. And it's time I did something useful for it."

Arthur stared at him for another moment. Then, he set down his drink. "Well. Molly's certainly going to be beside herself when she learns about this," he said softly. "And so is Tonks."

Remus swallowed his mouthful of ale heavily, meeting Arthur's eyes. There were several beats of silence before he spoke.

"Tonks?" he asked hoarsely, trying to keep his tone nonchalant. "Why—?"

"Oh, Remus," Arthur rolled his eyes. "I may not be as astute as my wife about these things, but I happen to know what two people in love look like."

Remus's throat went dry. "Love? I…don't—" he stopped short.

Arthur raised his hands. "Forgive me. I don't want to put words in your mouth," he said lightly. Then, he tilted his head to the side, considering Remus for a moment. "You…you have discussed it, right? You and Tonks, I mean."

Remus pressed his lips together, focusing his gaze on his bottle. "There's nothing to discuss," he said shortly. "I'm too old for her—I'm too poor, and I would never, ever endanger her life by tying her to someone like me. She deserves someone who can give her everything she wants."

Arthur frowned. "See, now, I think you're being unfair to yourself. Tonks certainly knows what she deserves, Remus, and—"

"Don't," Remus interrupted sharply. "Please—don't, Arthur. I can't argue about this—I've practically beat myself about the head over this. I…I can't discuss it anymore."

Arthur didn't respond, and Remus could feel the older man's gaze boring into him. Remus stared fixedly down at the kitchen table, his grip tight on his bottle.

Finally— "All right," Arthur said quietly. "I won't argue—but do know that I disagree wholeheartedly with your decision."

At this, Remus looked up. Arthur's expression was as mellow as ever, but Remus didn't doubt the man's words for a second. He swallowed.

"How's she doing?" Remus asked, before he could stop himself. "I haven't spoken to her since—" he broke off, clenching his jaw. "Has she…has she been around the Burrow?"

Arthur sighed, swilling the last few sips of ale around in his bottle. "That might be a question better directed at Molly," he said slowly. He caught Remus's eye. "But from what I can tell, Remus, she's not her best. It would seem that…that she blames herself quite a bit for Sirius's death."

Remus stared at Arthur. "What?"

Arthur shrugged. "Molly's tried to tell her that there's nothing she could have done, but she's really upset," he said softly. "And of course, her mother's been distraught over the whole thing, too." Arthur was quiet for a moment. "She's been having trouble changing her appearance," he added.

Remus closed his eyes, his stomach sinking. He had noticed that Tonks's hair wasn't its usual pink that evening, but he hadn't thought anything of it. After all, the Order meeting had been far from cheerful.

Suddenly, there was a groan of a chair being moved back, and Remus started, looking up. Arthur had disposed of his empty bottle and gotten to his feet.

"Time for bed, I reckon," he said gently. "You'll lock up on your way home?"

"Of course," Remus nodded. "Thank you again, for the drink."

Arthur just smiled from the kitchen doorway. "Don't be a stranger."

"Oops! I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley," squeaked another voice from the doorway, and Remus turned around to see that Hermione had arrived at the kitchen and nearly bumped into Arthur.

"No problem, Hermione," Arthur said kindly, stepping aside to allow her into the kitchen. He frowned. "Why aren't you in bed? It's late."

"I just fancied a glass of water," Hermione said, sounding flustered to be at the center of attention. "I—I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Arthur shook his head, smiling. "Have a good night, then. And goodnight to you, too, Remus."

Remus raised a hand in farewell as Arthur disappeared, and Hermione scuttled into the kitchen, heading for the sink. Meanwhile, Remus banished his empty bottle to the rubbish bin with a flick of his wand and rose to his feet as well, stretching.

"I—I didn't mean to overhear anything," Hermione said suddenly, and Remus looked at her. She was clutching her glass of water tightly, her expression nervous. "Is…Tonks going to be okay?"

Remus felt his chest constrict with emotion, but he forced his lips into what he hoped was a calming smile. "Of course she will," he told her. "She just…needs some time."

Vaguely, he wondered who he was trying to convince—Hermione or himself.

Hermione nodded, then took a sip of her water. "I've…I've actually been doing some research into it all myself," she said softly. "After…last month, and seeing how—" she stopped short, swallowing. "Anyway, when I was back home with my parents in London, I decided to buy some Muggle books about…grief…and—the human brain. I just figured…with everything going on, it wouldn't hurt to know more." She looked up and caught Remus's eye, then glanced away again, looking embarrassed.

It was several moments before Remus found himself able to speak.

"That," he said hoarsely, "is a wonderful thing you're doing." He paused for a moment, before adding, "And Harry should consider himself very lucky to have a friend like you."

Hermione looked up again, eyes widening. Then, she blushed.

"Thanks, Professor," she said softly, putting her empty glass back in the sink. Facing Remus again, she gave him a sheepish smile. "I—er—should be getting back upstairs to bed."

"That, you should," Remus told her, in the voice he'd always used back at Hogwarts, whenever he'd needed to mask his amusement at a student with sternness. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Professor."

Remus waited for the creak from the staircase that told him she'd made it upstairs, before he turned and slipped out through the Burrow's back door, locking it behind him.

Somehow, the dull ache in his stomach seemed to have lessened slightly.


31 July 1996

Despite Molly's best efforts, Harry's birthday tea was ruined by dismal news: Karkaroff, Fortescue, Ollivander. Feeling partially responsible, Remus had tried his best to maneuver the discussion back to lighter topics—asking about Quidditch and N.E.W.T. subjects—but the mood had been sufficiently spoiled. Remus made a mental note to apologize to Molly before he left the Burrow.

At the moment, Remus was standing in Percy's old bedroom, which had a gorgeous view of the Burrow's sprawling back garden. In spite of everything he'd told himself in the last few months, Remus knew he would miss these moments the most—birthdays, conversations of warmth and comfort, and most of all, seeing Harry laugh and smile again. Of course, there was no turning back, now…but Remus had to admit that perhaps he hadn't been completely honest with himself when he'd decided that he had nothing to lose.

"Are you all right?"

Remus jumped, swiveling around to see that Fleur, Bill's new fiancée, had sidled soundlessly into the room to join him at the window.

"Pardon me," he said, taking a step backward toward the door. Vaguely, he did remember Molly mentioning—rather waspishly—that Fleur was currently staying in Percy's room. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"You do not need to leave eef you do not want to," Fleur said, her tone unexpectedly sharp. "I am not afraid of werewolves, eef you must know."

Remus blinked, startled by her bluntness.

"You aren't?" he asked dumbly.

"Bah, what eez zere to be afraid of?" she asked scornfully, turning to glare out the bedroom window. "Zere are many worse theengs to be zan a man who seemply suffers every month."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Well, it's more than that," he told her slowly. "My kind are dangerous—it goes beyond just suffering."

Fleur looked at him, her nostrils flaring.

"Oui, and Veela are not only beautiful women—zey are fierce and protective creatures," she snapped, her expression hard. "Zere eez more zan one side to everytheeng—and eet eez a pity zat zere are so many in zis country who do not wish to see zat."

Remus had no retort. And as Fleur turned her powerful gaze back to the window, Remus glanced sideways at the young woman beside him with stunned respect, unable to help but think that Molly had judged her future daughter-in-law a little too quickly.


"Are you leaving?"

Remus turned away from the coat rack, where he had just retrieved his tattered, old traveling cloak. Molly was gazing at him from the sitting room doorway, her expression anxious.

Remus gave her a rueful smile, as he swung his cloak onto his shoulders. "I've got to be on my way, I'm afraid."

"Won't you stay for dinner?" she frowned, walking over to join him by the front door, her arms crossed. "When will we see you again?"

Remus shrugged, averting his gaze.

"I…don't know, to be honest," he said quietly. "It all depends on how…things turn out."

"Remus."

Molly's voice was nearly as sharp as Fleur's had been. Swallowing heavily, Remus met her gaze.

For a long moment, they just looked at each other.

Then— "Tell her I'm sorry…for how I've…handled things," he whispered hoarsely, and he saw Molly's eyes soften slightly. "And please—please tell her…to be safe."

Molly regarded him owlishly. "You know full well that neither of those things is what she wants to hear," she told him. When Remus just stared at her, Molly let out a sigh. "But I'll tell her," she murmured. With a sad smile, Molly reached out and drew Remus into her arms, patting the back of his head. When she pulled back, Remus was startled to see tears in her eyes. "You be safe, as well," she told him tremulously. "Remember, I expect you to be alive for Christmas."

Remus let out a slightly strangled chuckle, shaking his head. "I wouldn't miss it," he promised her, and Molly beamed.

He gave her one last smile. And then, with the greatest effort it had ever cost him, Remus turned his back on his own happiness, on the people he cared about most in the world, and stepped out of the Burrow into the cool early-evening air. Making his way past the protective enchantments, Remus slipped through the garden gate.

Forcing himself not to look back, he turned on the spot, apparating north to Wales.


Author's Note:

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 600 REVIEWS! Your lovely words made my day. You are all so wonderful. :')

WELP we are officially 80 PERCENT done with this story—only 15 chapters left! This chapter concludes OotP and kicks off our HBP arc.

Ari