Remus was on his knees, smoothing down the Peter Pan collar on his son, and trying not to wince, for the full moon had been the night before. Teddy was the page boy for Ron and Hermione's wedding that afternoon; with the ceremony being held at the local Muggle parish where Hermione had grown up, they were all going to be wearing traditional, formal Muggle attire for the day.

"Do you mind making your hair a different color today, Teddy?" Remus asked, eyeing the brilliant violet his son had chosen that morning. "Maybe ginger, like Ron?"

Teddy scrunched his nose, and rather than the Weasley ginger, he chose jet-black, making it messy like Harry's hair.

"I want to be like Uncle Harry!"

"Is that so?"

"Uh huh." Teddy scrunched his nose again and his eyes became emerald green. ""Cause Uncle Harry's cool."

"I'm not cool?" Remus asked, once he'd cast a Stasis Charm on Teddy's head, hoping that would be enough to prevent his son from morphing his features unexpectedly during the Muggle ceremony.

"No," Teddy said matter-of-factly. Remus chuckled and helped Teddy tie his shoes. Once his son was fully clad in his page boy clothes, Remus got up to his feet, stifling a groan.

"Can you see if your mother is ready?"

"Okay, Daddy." Teddy stomped out of his room to the room at the end of the corridor, where Tonks was getting ready, while Remus turned on his heel to dress Hope.

A simple lilac dress and matching bow sat atop the dresser. Remus brought Hope to Teddy's bed and changed her nappy and outfit, placing the bow gently on her curly head. He examined her features carefully; it had been six hours since moonset and the rosy color was returning to her cheeks. She was still groggy from the Dreamless Sleep Potion that Tonks had given her, but she'd already eaten twice and wouldn't need to be fed again for a few hours.

Remus had spent the full moon in what had been Teddy's old bedroom. While they worked out the issues in their marriage, Remus and Tonks had decided to sleep in separate bedrooms, but live in the same house again for the sake of their children. Teddy and Hope shared the middle bedroom, Tonks took master bedroom, and Remus took Teddy's old room at the top of the stairs.

It wasn't a perfect solution. After their first discussion the day after Teddy's birthday, Tonks agreed to move back in with the children. Remus knew he hadn't really given her a choice; he was furious that his children had been kept from him for months and he refused to entertain any solution that didn't let him be a more present father. He refused weekend visits – not after all he'd missed. He agreed only to separate bedrooms, so he wouldn't miss any more of his children's lives.

Remus knew Tonks wasn't entirely happy with the new arrangement, but he found it difficult to sympathize with her after everything she'd hidden from him. He readily admitted his own role in the failure of their marriage. He was willing to admit he ought to have communicated more or pursued their relationship more assertively, but he was no Legilimens and couldn't read her mind. His inaction – while regrettable, in retrospect, felt justified at the time. What he most lamented was the loss of time with his children, wishing he could explain to both Teddy and Hope just how sorry he was to have missed so much of their lives in the last several months.

Since that conversation, however, Remus and Tonks barely had time to talk to each other, let alone work out the problems they'd discussed. On nights that Remus was on duty patrolling the castle, Tonks was at home with the children. On nights when Remus was home, Tonks worked late. That Saturday, the day of Ron and Hermione's wedding, was the first day that neither of them had work-related activities. Remus, though he wanted to discuss his marriage with Tonks, was silently grateful they had a wedding to attend together, as they'd have other people and activities to occupy their time. He simply didn't know how to restart the conversation on their marriage and family.

Remus found a pair of tiny matching socks and put them on Hope's feet. He rummaged through the dresser until he found an old pair of Teddy's baby shoes, placed a charm on them to be white, and then resized them for Hope's little feet. At nine months old, Hope was no bigger than an average four month old. While healthy in most ways, she grew very slowly, with the exception of the mass of brown curls that already fell into her eyes.

Satisfied with his efforts, Remus kissed Hope's forehead and popped his head out into the corridor. The door opened and Teddy stepped out first, followed by Tonks.

"Mummy's ready!" Teddy announced proudly. Tonks gave him a weak smile, nodded at Remus, and walked past him toward the stairs. Remus sighed to himself and held out his hand for Teddy to take. He ran past, following his mother, leaving Remus to go downstairs with Hope on his hip.

They followed the directions on the wedding invitation and took the Floo to the Granger home first, which was bustling with activity. Percy and Audrey, who were already expecting their second child, were tasked with helping wedding guests navigate the short walk to the Hampstead parish church.

Remus's heart swelled with pride upon seeing his son hold Victoire Weasley's small hand to lead her down the aisle in the church. The ceremony was long, as it included a religious service, and the few Granger relatives Hermione had eyed most of the attendees curiously when they were the only ones responding to the vicar. Remus wondered if his father's family had been like this when his parents were married, as they too were wed in a Muggle religious ceremony.

When the ceremony was finally over and they were at a posh Muggle hotel for the reception, Remus tried not to have any flashbacks to the last wedding he went to, for Kingsley and Hestia. It was a nearly identical setup: Tonks, Fleur, and Audrey sat together with their daughters on their laps, Teddy made faces at the babies to entertain them, and Remus engaged in conversation with Bill and Percy on recent events, though this time they were discussing centaur affairs.

Determined not to have a repeat of the previous wedding, when the music began to play for dancing, Remus encouraged Teddy to ask his mother to dance. He did, and while Tonks waltzed around the dance floor with an overenthusiastic four-year-old, Remus took Hope around to greet others.

A long-forgotten feeling of joy surged through him as he spoke with friends and colleagues. He was proud to be holding his daughter, finally able to be the father to her that she deserved. He felt the guilt of passing on some of his lycanthropic traits to her whenever he felt the creak of his bones or the soreness of his muscles, but he felt more whole, holding her close and promising to be a better father.

"Having fun?" Tonks said flatly, upon seeing Remus come back to their table for a drink. She had a sour expression on her face, perplexing him.

"I was enjoying myself, yes," he replied, confused. "Hope's been wonderful."

"Teddy's having a smashing time." She craned her neck and gazed at the dance floor. Remus saw his son, shirtless and shoeless, with his hands in the air, moving to the beat of the loud Muggle music.

"He loves dancing." Remus sat down at the table, two chairs away from Tonks. "This is the first time I've seen him shirtless…I should find his shoes. I wouldn't want—"

"This isn't working, Remus," Tonks said, wiping her nose with the cloth napkin in her hand. A strange buzzing, quite unlike the catchy music, filled his ears.

"What isn't—"

"We aren't working. I know you want the kids at the house but I just can't live there anymore," she said, her chin quivering against the multicolored party lights. "I don't know what I'm going to do, but I can't…this isn't working."

Remus felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest. Hope slipped in his arms, but he caught her, holding her tight to his chest, scrambling to hold onto something that would make sense of what Tonks was telling him.

"What are you saying?" Remus's voice was foreign to his ears. He hoped he was somewhere else or imagining the conversation. "Are you ending—"

"I'm breaking up with you, Remus. This is the end of us."

"Dora—" Remus gasped, as a cold, plunging feeling overtook his body.

"It's Tonks to you now."

She was shuddering into the cloth napkin. Remus, sure he was mishearing or perhaps in a nightmare, reached his hand out to graze her arm. She swatted his hand away angrily.

"Don't touch me."

All the air left Remus's lungs. The lights in the ballroom made him nauseous; the song playing about getting a party started made him want to set fire to the Muggle devices blaring the music.

"I'm staying with mum tonight," she announced, wiping her tears away. "I'll think about what to do with custody…Teddy and Hope will stay with you while I figure it out." She pushed her chair back and stood shakily. Remus could only gape at her; his wife – or was it ex-wife—

Tonks gazed at the dance floor. Teddy was wearing someone's tie around his head, flopping it back and forth with the music.

"I'll send you a letter," she said, still keeping her eyes on Teddy, "about what to do with the kids. I…have to go now."

Remus saw her walk away, seeing the gold of her dress slip past the crowd only a few seconds later. Hope shifted in his arms, babbling away happily.

It was then that Ginny and Harry walked by, each grinning widely as they held their drinks. It took only a moment for Remus to make a decision.

"Take her," Remus said roughly, handing Hope off to a bewildered Ginny. "Harry, Teddy and Hope are your responsibility for the rest of the night." Without another word, Remus walked as fast as his sore muscles would let him.

His heart was beating wildly and beads of sweat ran down his face, neck, and back, but he didn't care. He didn't know if Tonks was testing him or challenging him to stand up for their marriage, or if he'd truly lost his chance with her for the last time.

He wasn't going to let her go – not like this, he thought to himself, with every sharp pain that shot through his still-healing frame.

Remus's sides were in stitches by the time he appeared in front of his mother-in-law's home. The light was on upstairs in the room he thought Tonks was staying in, and he rushed to the door, grateful that he was still permitted through the home's security enchantments.

"What are you doing here?" Andromeda demanded, brandishing her wand at him.

"With all due respect," Remus replied curtly, "I'm here to see my wife and I'd appreciate it if you let us work this out ourselves, thank you." He disarmed Andromeda, startling her, and tossed her wand back to her on his way up the stairs. It wasn't the time or place for pleasantries with her; he needed to get to Tonks immediately.

"What the fuck?" Tonks's eyes widened in shock upon seeing Remus burst through her door.

"We need to talk," Remus said, wheezing. "We're not done. We…we need to talk about this."

"What is there to talk about?" Tonks folded her arms over her chest. She wandlessly disarmed him and added, "Don't think I didn't hear you shouting 'Expelliarmus' at my mother."

"Uncalled for, I know." Remus held onto his knees, bent over as he coughed to catch his breath. "But I need to talk to you."

"Who's taking care of our children?"

"The Potters - Harry and Ginny."

"Are you sure they're sober enough for that?"

Remus had caught his breath. He leaned against the wall and sighed. "They're fine. Please, I need to talk to you."

"No."

"No?"

"Let me guess, Remus," Tonks said shakily. "You're here to make some grand apology to me, beg me to take you back, and pretend nothing ever happened."

Remus's sweaty hand slid down the wall he was holding onto for support. He hadn't thought that far; his only thought was getting to her before it was too late, but he didn't know what he was too late for.

"We've done this too many times. You do something stupid and cowardly, I forgive you, and we wait until the next catastrophe. Let me make this as easy for you to understand as possible: I'm – not – doing – this – anymore."

"No," Remus begged. "This is different."

"This time it's different? It will be new and better than before?" Tonks put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. Remus's only comfort was knowing that she was still talking to him – she hadn't thrown him out yet, daring him to hope that something could still be salvaged.

"I…don't understand," Remus said lamely. "What have I done? We haven't talked much—"

"You don't understand?" Tonks asked incredulously, her limp, mousy brown hair turning an acid orange. "Three weeks ago you told me you knew you should've talked to me while I was struggling. We've been living under the same roof since then and you still haven't talked to me!"

Remus wiped the back of his hand against his forehead, unsticking the fringe of hair that gathered with his perspiration, and tried to explain. "Our work schedules…you haven't said…"

"I've tried to talk to you! But every bloody time I catch you, you're with our kids! I know they're important and they need their father, but did you ever stop to think I needed my husband?"

Remus furrowed his brow, thinking hard.

"You sent Teddy those letters every day but you didn't think I wanted to hear from you, too? You were my best friend, Remus. My husband. You disappeared and now that we live together again it's like I don't matter!"

"That's not true," Remus denied instantly. "We're working at different times. You said—"

"I know I fucked up," Tonks interrupted. "I know that I should've tried to talk to you more, especially for the kids. I apologized to you and agreed to moving back in so you could be happy. Have you done anything to apologize to me? Have you wondered at all if I've been happy?"

"I told you…I know I should've done more." Remus stared at her, at a loss for words. He was terribly confused; the last time they spoke, she'd vowed not to let their marriage end and agreed to their new living arrangement.

"It's the same bullshit we've been doing for years." Tonks wiped the tears away from her cheeks. "We fight, I'm the one who has to do all the work for our relationship, and you ruin it."

"Ruin it?" Remus repeated in disbelief.

"I've been willing to put up with all these changes so we could make this work, but you haven't done anythingfor me! I know our kids are important, but I'm important too! I'm your wife, for fuck's sake! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does—"

"Do you know, that when we talked, you didn't once mention me?" Tonks continued tearfully. "It was all about our kids. I get it - I shouldn't have kept them from you and I should've talked more – but didn't you care that you'd abandoned me, too? Didn't you give a shit about how I felt?"

"Yes, of course—"

"You didn't say it! You never once told me you missed me or wanted me, and now that we're living together it's like I don't exist! What the fuck, Remus? Did you ever really love me?"

She stopped talking and burst into angry, violent sobs, shuddering against the doorway as she gasped from her weeping.

Remus froze. Sudden, unbidden images of past arguments flashed through his mind.

There was the time he'd come to see her for Christmas, the year before they were married:

"What are you apologizing for this time…You did fail me, because you left me with that letter and the way you treated me cruelly after King's Cross. How could you do that to me, Remus? I thought you were the kindest man I'd ever known, and you treated me like shit. How could you?"

There was the time he'd refused her friendship, mere weeks before he begged her to marry him:

"I can still make you happy," Tonks had protested, crying. "Just let yourself be with me…please don't do this Remus. Not again."

There was the time he'd begged for a second chance, hours after Dumbledore had died:

"You tell me you just want to be friends and then confess your love to me? How is that fair to me? How am I supposed to believe you? How did you change your mind? How am I supposed to trust you, after everything you've done to me…If you intend on walking out on me again, do it now, before you break my heart one last time. It's now or never, Remus."

Then, there was the time he had run from her, the lowest point of his adult life:

"You were going to leave me without telling me?" Tonks had cried. "You thought I would just figure it out?! Did you really believe that if enough time passed, I'd forget I was married and having your child?"

One of the final arguments came to mind, after he'd re-experienced the guilt of leaving his family before:

"How dare you, Remus…I've been fighting for our family for years…the minute things get hard you fucking walked away…you walked away - just like you always do."

A terrible, overwhelming sense of guilt instantly flooded him. Tonks had given him more than a few chances. She had repeatedly put her heart and soul on the line for him. She had been relentless in her love for him, reaching out to him and taking him back after he continued hurting her.

It was easy to start making up for all the lost time with his children. They didn't know any better. But Tonks, who he had failed so often and so easily, had been pushed to the side, forgotten and taken for granted. He finally understood why she was tired of fighting for their relationship: she did nothing but give, and he did nothing but take. Eventually, when things got too hard, he had nothing to give her but his own failings.

He had been so wrapped up in his anger and sadness over the perceived loss of his family that he'd forgotten that the one who had made his family possible – his now sobbing, lonely wife – needed him, not just as a friend, but as a true partner and spouse.

"Dinner!" he blurted at Tonks, startling her. "Let me take you to dinner!"

"What?"

Her nose was pink and puffy. She lifted her hand to tuck limp strands of orange and brown hair away from her blotchy cheeks.

"Dinner," Remus repeated, formulating an idea. "Once a week…no kids. I want to take you to dinner."

She stared at him, openmouthed and confused, for a moment.

"Why? Is this – are you trying to get me to take you back?"

"No. I want to start from the beginning," Remus said, moving toward her. "We never did this right – I never did this right. I want to start over and do it right this time."

"Remus," Tonks sighed, shaking her head. "We've done this before—"

"We can take our rings off," he pressed. "We can live apart again and share custody of the children. But please, let me take you out to dinner and do this the right way. Please, Tonks." Remus took his wedding ring off and handed it to her with a trembling hand.

"Please," he repeated softly. "Let me do it right this time."

Tonks gulped and stared at the glittery ring in his hand. She leaned her head on the doorway and whispered, "You and I both know it's not going to work. We've done this too many times—"

"Not like this. We never had a normal relationship. I want to give that to you, and if it doesn't work," Remus closed his eyes and shuddered, "then it doesn't work. We go on dates until you don't want to anymore."

Tonks breathed hard against the door. She hadn't yet taken his ring; nor had she taken hers off.

"What if it's only one date?"

Remus's heart skipped a beat. "Then it's only one. How about tomorrow night? I'll plan everything."

"The kids?"

"I'll find someone to watch them," Remus promised. His arm hurt from holding out his wedding ring. He lowered it slowly, keeping an eye on Tonks's face.

"I'm still staying here tonight," Tonks said quietly. "Keep your ring on. I don't want anyone asking us any questions. We can go to dinner…but don't expect much."

"That's fine." Remus gladly put his wedding ring back on. He felt the urge to hold her, but refrained. "I'll get Teddy and Hope and bring them home now. Should I write you with details for dinner?"

Tonks shook her head weakly and said, "I'll be back tomorrow in the morning. You can tell me then."

"Thank you, Tonks. This means…it means a lot to me."

She made a noncommittal noise from the back of her throat and inched her way back into her room, murmuring a cordial "goodnight" on her way in. Remus, feeling like a weight had come off his shoulders, went downstairs to get his children.

"You've convinced her to take you back," Andromeda said disapprovingly, standing in his way to the door.

"I apologize for disarming you," Remus said evenly, "but as I said before, I'd appreciate it if you let Tonks and I work this out ourselves. She's still my wife and I intend on keeping it that way. Excuse me."

He'd never spoken to his mother-in-law like this before, but his temper and patience had all but vanished for pleasantries. He maneuvered his way around her and shut the door behind him.

He was going to save his family, if it was the last thing he ever did.