Remus put down The Daily Prophet and sighed into his tea, enjoying the last few minutes of quiet before he went off to see the Wakefields. He was going to take his godsons shopping for their school things. Besides helping with their supplies, Remus anticipated he'd have to have a difficult discussion with the soon to be first-and-third-year boys.
The night prior, the Wizengamot had finally voted on the fate of a number of werewolves who had either bitten – or were planning to bite – their children. Tremblay and his mate, Hoxha, were sentenced to a life sentence in Azkaban for their crimes. The Wizengamot had even voted to bring dementors back to the prison, but only on the highest, most secure levels, reserved for the worst kind of criminal, including convicted werewolves, no matter the crime. Tremblay and Hoxha would spend the rest of their lives under the cruelty of gloomy incarceration. One of their twin sons was dead; the other remained at St. Mungo's while custody arrangements were made.
The other werewolves – the Watson brothers and their mates – were sentenced to ten years each. Their parental rights had been revoked and the two couples' young children were in the custody of their Watson grandparents. The Watson werewolves and their mates also had tracking spells placed on them. When they were released from Azkaban, they would be required to report to the Ministry for every full moon to prevent them from infecting their children.
If they failed to appear at the Ministry an hour before moonrise, all four werewolves would be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss.
Additionally, for the next six months, all overage werewolves, including lycanthropic parents with children under the age of 17 would be required to go to the Ministry for all full moons. Even Remus wasn't exempt from this mandate; the Ministry trusted werewolves less than previously thought, and until the children of lycanthropes were proven to be "capable" parents, all lycanthropic parents would be forced away from their families or current full moon arrangements until the evaluations of their children were over. The inclusion of all werewolves in this mandate – whether they were parents – was a last-minute addition to ensure that lycanthropic parents didn't make arrangements with other werewolves to infect their children.
If Remus, or any other lycanthropic parent failed to appear at the Ministry an hour before moonrise, they would be automatically sentenced to a year in Azkaban. Non-parent werewolves who failed to appear at the Ministry would be automatically sentenced to a month in Azkaban for failure to comply with the mandate. Only underage werewolves were exempt from this mandate.
Forced sterilization was still under discussion. Sterilization would be mandated if children of werewolves were shown to be "developmentally delayed" or "inferior," when compared to most magical children. Remus was appalled by the language of the mandate, and outright furious over the potential consequences for all werewolves; any werewolf over the age of 13 would be sterilized against their will. Though Remus didn't want any more children, he was disgusted that the Ministry could make that decision for him, and despaired at the notion that his godsons would be denied families, should they want them, for something so out of their control.
No longer under discussion, however, was the matter of whether a consenting adult could agree to becoming a werewolf. It was decided lycanthropy was too difficult to control. Even with Wolfsbane Potion, a werewolf could still willingly infect another. It was a matter of public health and safety to prevent others from being infected. Penalties for infecting others were made harsher; at minimum, accidental infections would lead to a life sentence in Azkaban. At maximum, a werewolf who willingly infected another could be subject to a Dementor's Kiss.
Harsher penalties were imposed on werewolves who evaded the Ministry's registry, in an effort to control the spread of lycanthropy. Fortunately, the Wizengamot had just barely decided against tracking all werewolves' movements and magic. Even more fortunately, the Wizengamot had decided not to intervene in Hogwarts matters, though from the editors' opinions in the Prophet, more than one Wizengamot member wanted to expel lycanthropic students immediately.
All this was on Remus's mind as he Apparated outside the Wakefield home that sunny August morning.
"MUM! DENYS! HE'S HERE!" Remus heard his younger godson, Wally, holler from the front steps of the home.
Denys came thundering out of the front door with his booklist in hand, with a wide smile on his face.
"Mum says we can get an owl!" Denys announced excitedly. "'Cause there's two of us now!"
"But remember, no broom," Lottie said, coming out of the house with Wally's booklist. Denys made a face at her and she sternly added, "You need to focus on your studies."
"Your mother is right," Remus agreed. "I thought we could have a little chat today after we purchase your things…perhaps you've seen the news?"
"Mum said we can still transform at school, like Professor McGonagall promised," Denys replied. "But you've got to go to the Ministry."
"That's right, but we'll talk more later." Remus gazed at the two boys, still carefree in their youth, and their mother, who reminded him increasingly of his own mother – tired, worried, and thin.
The four of them wandered through Diagon Alley, with Remus doing his best to shield Denys and Wally from loud conversations of passers-by, many of whom were commenting on the laxity of the new werewolf mandates. More than one witch or wizard had suggested all werewolves be sent off to Azkaban, or even killed, to ensure they couldn't hurt anyone else again.
Remus paid for the boys' new robes and Wally's wand, a 12-inch applewood wand with a unicorn hair core and swishy flexibility. Lottie bought their books – secondhand – and their new owl, which Wally insisted on calling Fiona, after a character in one of his favorite films. Remus hoped Tonks wouldn't mind that he spent a little more than he intended; he wanted his godsons to be well-prepared for the new term.
When all the purchases were made and they were back in the Wakefield home, Remus broached the subject of recent news.
"I know you're both young," Remus began tentatively, taking a cup of tea from Lottie, "but it will be good for us to discuss this."
"This sounds like a serious talk," Wally said glumly, slumping in his seat.
"It is, but you need to listen."
Remus briefly discussed the recent mandates, the crimes the other werewolves had committed, and the precarious state of being a werewolf, even though the war against Voldemort had been won. He tried to impress upon his godsons both the urgency and gravity of the situation by reminding them that they needed to be model students, to ensure their continued education.
"My marks aren't good enough?" Denys asked worriedly. "I thought 'Exceeds Expectations' was all right."
"Your marks are good," Remus replied, patting Denys on the shoulder. "They need to stay that way. You get to go to Hogsmeade this term, as a third year, and I believe your mother will agree with me that if your marks dip, you won't be permitted to go anymore. We will revoke permission, if need be."
Denys's jaw dropped in horror. He darted his eyes to his mother and accused, "You wouldn't."
"You'll have more to lose than your Hogsmeade privileges if you step one toe out of line," Lottie admonished, eyeing her sons carefully. "That counts for both of you."
"That's not fair!" Denys protested.
"No, it's not," Remus conceded quietly, earning a surprised look from the boys. "You are both very lucky that you can go to Hogwarts at all. If it was up to the Wizengamot, neither of you would get an education. Things are very sticky for us. You might lose your education, but I might lose my family. We all have to be on our best behavior."
"Would they really take Teddy and baby Hope away?" Wally asked, after a short, tense silence.
"Yes," Remus replied, exhaling forcefully. "I'm asking you both to do your best while we wait for things to get better."
Denys scratched at the kitchen table absentmindedly. "Will they get better?"
"I hope so…even five years ago, I couldn't have been your professor. It might seem hopeless, but things are getting better. They'll only continue to improve as long as we work together." Remus smiled thinly at his godsons and Lottie. "We'll be discussing this again the night of the Welcome Feast."
He cleared his throat lightly and glanced down at his watch. "Do your best, both of you. I've got to be off – my family are waiting for me."
Remus made his goodbyes, and feeling satisfied with his message to his godsons, returned to his wife and children.
…
Remus was dressing himself in a Ministry holding cell, fighting another yawn. The tiny cell had been where he'd spent the night as a transformed werewolf, listening to the howls, cries, and whines of at least two dozen other werewolves brought to the Ministry against their will for the same purpose.
He was half-naked, shivering, and nauseous, and thinking only of his warm bed when the cell door swung open, revealing his silver-haired, bleary-eyed wife, clad in ripped jeans and a faded Weird Sisters t-shirt.
"Teddy and Hope are getting their first evaluation today," she said, gazing at him with her tired, dark grey eyes. "Mum's allowed to be there, but you and I aren't."
"They had to schedule it for the day after the full moon, didn't they?" Remus said hoarsely, wincing as he stretched his vest over his head.
"Let me help you…just stick your arms up like Teddy does."
Remus lifted his arms, feeling both coddled and overjoyed that Tonks was unrolling his vest over his chest. Her small, warm hands were gentle against his sore muscles, and she helped further by fetching his shirt and buttoning it for him.
"There," Tonks said, patting his now-clothed chest tenderly. "You're dressed."
Remus mumbled his thanks and followed her out of the cell. From the corridor, Remus caught sight of many werewolves, most of whom were familiar, tending to their wounds or redressing themselves. The entire holding area reeked of the metallic, tangy scent of blood and wet dog. Remus's stomach convulsed, reminded strongly of the awful scents he'd endured when he lived among other werewolves.
Tonks took him to breakfast at a Muggle café near Westminster. Neither of them mentioned the ongoing evaluation of their children. Nor did they discuss the situation at the Ministry. Remus knew he was the luckiest werewolf there; he had the luxury of Wolfsbane Potion, to help him keep his human mind intact, which rendered him a sleepy wolf for most of the night. Other werewolves had thrashed against the walls of their cells, breaking their bones, only to wake up to no one available to help them.
After breakfast, Tonks suggested they go shopping for new sets of robes. Under usual circumstances, Remus would've balked at the idea of spending more money on new robes. He had several in good condition, now that he'd been teaching for a few years and had regular income, but Tonks insisted on getting him more. He knew it was more than a suggestion – with the Ministry so anti-werewolf at the moment, he agreed it was best to put his best foot forward, including his clothing choices.
While they were out, they purchased new clothes and books for their children. Teddy was reading more, and both Remus and Tonks were determined that by his fifth birthday, he would be able to write the names of everyone in their family, in addition to reading simple books on his own.
It was almost supper time when an owl found them outside the Leaky Cauldron with a message to come home, as the evaluation was over.
Andromeda was cooking when Remus and Tonks returned to their Northumberland home. Guilt crossed Remus's mind; it had been weeks since he'd spoken to his mother-in-law. Neither of them had made any amends towards the other, but outside of telling her off, Remus had nothing else to apologize for. He let Tonks go into the kitchen to greet her mother while he attended to his children.
"Daddy!" Teddy exclaimed, as soon as Remus entered his children's room. Hope was sitting in her cot, clutching a stuffed dragon in her tiny hands, but her sleepy eyes lit up when she saw Remus come in.
"How was your day with your Auntie Hermione?" Remus asked Teddy, as he took Hope out of her cot to change her nappy and give her a kiss. "Was it good?"
"Uh huh," Teddy replied, before launching into a rambling story about a worm he saw yesterday, describing its adventures in unnecessary, but charming detail. The story ended with Ophelia, their cat, vanquishing the worm in a battle for their lives.
Remus brought Teddy and Hope downstairs for supper. Andromeda was on her way out. She made a quick goodbye to the children, pointedly ignoring Remus, and disappeared into the Floo.
"Mum made lamb and jacket potatoes," Tonks said, ushering the children to the kitchen, where dinner was laid out on the table. The family of four enjoyed dinner, with Teddy re-telling the battle of worm versus cat, this time in more visceral detail.
Remus felt his eyes drooping as the evening went on, but he knew Tonks had spoken to her mother about the evaluation, and he was determined to learn more. He brewed a strong cup of coffee, tucked Teddy and Hope into bed, and finally returned to the living room, where Tonks sat with her cup of tea and a plate full of freshly made biscuits.
"They did well," Tonks said, hearing Remus shuffling behind her. "Hope needs more medical evaluation because of her – you know."
Remus sat next to Tonks on the sofa, not close enough to be touching, but enough that he could see the fine details of her face and hands.
"Hermione doesn't anticipate any problems with Teddy. According to the evaluation system the Ministry gave her, he's outperformed his peers. Our boy is brilliant."
Remus breathed a sigh of relief. Though he knew every parent wanted to think the best of their child, it was comforting to know that by Ministry standards, Teddy was doing quite well.
"And Hope?"
Tonks set her elbows on her thighs, bending over, letting her mousy brown hair fall on either side of her face.
"Hermione had to stay late because Hope was sleepy all morning. Mum explained that Hope gets a couple of drops of Dreamless Sleep Potion every full moon – recommended by the Healer, of course." Tonks sat up, gazing at Remus with dark circles under her eyes. "But it's really unusual for babies to get that potion and even with that tiny dose, Hope is always drowsy after a full moon. Hermione had to wait till Hope was awake enough to conduct her evaluation, and according to the Ministry, kids needing any advanced potion need additional medical evaluation to make sure they're healthy."
"What does that mean?" Remus asked, his insides churning with worry. "For her? For us?"
"The next evaluation is scheduled for the night of the full moon. Hope's going to be evaluated at St. Mungo's, without Dreamless Sleep Potion. Hermione will be there, but so will the Healers. I've got a feeling it's not going to be great."
Remus felt as if he'd been punched in the chest. He knew that without Dreamless Sleep, Hope would scream and cry all night, affected as she was by the full moon. His heart sank, knowing it was his fault, as a lycanthrope, that his daughter had inherited some of his symptoms. If there was ever a case to illustrate that lycanthropes shouldn't be parents, Hope Lupin's full moon suffering would be presented as the first piece of evidence against all werewolves.
"There's nothing we can do," Tonks concluded, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "Hermione told mum she'll try to find a way out of it…maybe talk to Kingsley…but even he can't override the Wizengamot's mandates."
Remus couldn't find anything to say. He didn't want to add to his wife's suffering, but he knew if she was losing hope over their family's fate, anything he would add would only make it worse. He struggled to find a silver lining, even with Teddy's evaluation. No matter how well Teddy performed, the Ministry wouldn't care about successes. They would only see failure and make their decisions based upon the worst-case scenarios.
There were neither words of comfort nor words of agreement that he found appropriate. Instead, Remus offered his hand to Tonks. She didn't accept it, however, and to Remus's shock, she moved closer to him on the sofa and curled up next to him, lowering her body so that her head was in his lap.
"Is this okay?"
He nodded at her vigorously. He murmured an Accio on a nearby blanket and drew it over her. She shuddered, and Remus looked down to see that she was crying, holding the blanket tightly in her hands.
Remus drew his hand up to her head, stroking her hair gently as she cried. It broke his heart, knowing he was to blame for their daughter's illness, the consequences it might lead to for their family, and his wife's breakdown over their fate. He had nothing but his presence to comfort her, and while every fiber of his being longed to do anything to make it easier, there was nothing he could do but stay.
…
The day before the new term began, Remus stepped into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes for the first time in over a year. He had a twofold mission that morning: first, to learn what new joke products he might find on his students, and second, to purchase a Puffskein or Pygmy Puff for his son.
"Remus, long time no see!" George greeted, clapping him on the back. "Angie's here too – let me fetch her!" He turned to the back room and shouted, "OI! ANGIE!"
Angelina Weasley emerged from the back room with a small, but visible baby bump.
"Oh yeah," George said, grinning. "Another Weasley's on their way."
Remus congratulated them, though his heart clenched slightly, being reminded that as George and Angelina were fully human, they'd never have to suffer the possibility of having their child taken away from them.
"When are you due?" Remus asked, smiling politely.
"End of January," Angelina replied brightly. "If it's a boy, we're calling him Fred, of course."
George beamed at her and added, "And if it's a girl, Roxanne, after Angie's mum."
"She died during the war too." Angelina patted her midsection gently. "She'd have loved being a Gran, but at least they'll know their Granddad Johnson, and all the Weasleys, too."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Remus said automatically, knowing the words were almost pointless, having suffered so much loss himself.
"She was a Muggleborn. Dad's a Muggle…mum got him out of the country before things got really bad, but she didn't make it. Dad's been…it's been hard." Angelina wiped at a stray tear on her cheek and stared at the glistening tear on her finger, chuckling softly. "I'm not usually this weepy. These bloody hormones are killing me."
"Were you an only child?" asked Remus.
Angelina nodded. "It's just me and dad. He's going to this Muggle support group…I don't know if it's helping, but he's made a new friend or two."
"Do you think you could write to me about that?" Remus asked, feeling a stroke of inspiration. "Tonks's mum, Andromeda, has been in a similar situation. I don't know how she'd react to a Muggle support group, but it might not hurt."
Angelina agreed to ask her father, and Remus then mentioned his desire to find a small, fluffy pet for Teddy.
"He's good with our cat, but I think she's growing impatient with him," Remus explained. "He hasn't fully learned to be gentle with her, and she's getting on in age. I thought a Puffskein or Pygmy Puff might be best."
After much consideration, Remus bought both a cream-colored Puffskein for Teddy and a pink Pygmy Puff for Hope. She was a little young for a pet, but the Pygmy Puff had attached itself to Remus, and he thought Hope could grow into having it as a pet.
Remus somewhat regretted the purchases as he walked out of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, as the Puffskein took instantly to him, using its long tongue to try to clean his nostrils out. However, when Teddy laid his eyes on the fluffy mass, his wide eyes and huge grin made it all worth it.
The Puffskein was dubbed Puddles, while the Pygmy Puff was now called Jelly. Remus hadn't the foggiest how Teddy had come up with the names, but Puddles was happily perched on Teddy's shoulder, while Jelly had settled atop Hope's curly head.
Tonks watched in amusement as Puddles licked the inside of Teddy's ear, causing him to giggle raucously.
"This was a good idea," Tonks said. "How's George?"
Remus quickly informed her of George and Angelina's pregnancy and Angelina's father's support group.
"Hmm." Tonks leant against the doorway from the kitchen to the living room. "I don't think mum would try something like that. She likes keeping to herself."
"I know." Remus saw an owl approaching the window. He moved around Tonks and let the owl fly in, recognizing it as Fiona, the Wakefield boys' new owl.
"It's from the Wakefields," Remus explained, holding an envelope up. He gave Fiona a treat and read through the letter, which was from Lottie. In it, she explained that her late husband's family had sent her a letter, indicating interest in seeing her sons again. Lottie hadn't seen or heard from her late husband's family since his death and the kidnapping of her sons. When Denys and Wally were bitten, all communication from his family stopped, except for one letter. The last communication from them left her with her husband's Gringotts vault information and key, and a curt note describing the extended Wakefields' disinterest in associating with the two little lycanthropes.
Shocked at the Wakefields' change of heart, Lottie reached out to Remus to ask for his advice.
"What do you think?" Remus asked, handing the letter off to Tonks. She frowned as she read through it, scowling in certain places.
"I think it's ridiculous that they abandoned this poor Muggle woman with her two magical, werewolf sons, and suddenly want to see them. Something's not adding up."
"That's what I thought. I don't know why they'd want to see the boys now."
"Do you think it has anything to do with inheritance?"
Remus tilted his head back and forth. "I'm not sure. The Wakefields are purebloods, but they're not part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. They're like the Lupins – traditionally purebloods but not wealthy or prominent enough to have made it into that genealogy text. Certainly no one cares if families like ours have half-bloods somewhere in our family trees."
"Why don't you write to the older Wakefields?" Tonks suggested, now watching Hope clap her hands at her new Pygmy Puff, who seemed to be enjoying her attention. "You're the boys' godfather. You're well within your rights to speak on their behalf."
Remus wrote a letter to Lottie first, asking what she thought of him communicating to the others first. He didn't know why her late husband's family would suddenly have interest in reacquainting themselves with Denys and Wally, and he wasn't convinced their reunion would be pleasant, given the current climate.
"They're so happy," Tonks murmured, watching their children giggle at their new pets. "I wish it could be easy like this, always."
Remus wondered if Tonks was keeping more to herself than she let on. Her breakdown the past week after Hermione's evaluation was worrying, and Remus was torn between demanding to know more and keeping himself in the dark. He wondered if there was more that met the eye, more trouble brewing under the surface, that only she was privy to, as Head Auror.
Remus decided to get started on dinner; he couldn't solve all problems, but he could fix dinner. For now, it was sufficient.