DISCLAIMER: I own nothing other than Roberta (who finally makes an appearance!), anything you recognize (and some things you might not), belongs to the admirable J.K. Rowling.
REVIEWER RESPONSES: You guys rock!!
Lucidity Glad you liked the chapter! Theodore does know how to get into trouble (and get out of it), but right now he's kind of depressed, so he won't give Remus too much trouble just yet.
Alice Dodgson Thank you so much for that wonderful compliment and I'm glad you liked the chapter. I honestly don't know yet if I'm going to make this Remus/Tonks. I adore the ship, but don't know how well I'd write romance (I really hadn't much of an intention of even including everyone's favorite Metamorphmagus in this fic, but she just showed up in a Tonksy way). If I can, I'll work it into the fic, but as of right now they just have a close and flirty friendship. ;) If you really have the time to beta, I'd appreciate it if I could work that out with you. I'll e-mail you, kay?
Neoma Glad to see your review, keep it up, even if you don't like this chapter!
AN: Yes, I know terribly late. I have a good reason though!!! My dad and his friend decided to "fix" the computer, despite the fact that it wasn't broken and the fact that their computer knowledge consists of playing games and accessing espn.com. Thus, my computer was broken for like a week. I managed to fix it, using the technologically advanced method of shouting and turning it off and on till it worked. So, without further adieu, here is the fic!
When they arrived at Grimmauld Place in a cloud of soot and smoke, Remus's uneasiness only increased. His nephew didn't say a single word as Remus gave him the grand tour. The only indication that Theodore understood his words, was when the boy put his trunk down in the first bedroom they came across, after Remus suggested he choose a room. After they'd gone through the whole of the house, including the attic, Remus was feeling extremely uncomfortable and was having a difficult time remaining cheerful.
They had ended up back in the kitchen eventually, sitting across from each other at the table, neither meeting the other's eyes. Remus attempted to break the boy's silence, asking undemanding questions about school, Quidditch, the OWLs, and other such topics, but Theodore only nodded, shook his head or shrugged if he acknowledged his uncle's questions at all. Mostly, the boy just ignored Remus and fiddled with a loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve. It was all very unnerving for the werewolf.
After this had gone on for about fifteen trying minutes, Remus's stomach gave him an idea.
"Are you hungry at all?" he asked hopefully and with more glee than one should have when questioning a person's appetite. "A friend of mine offered to take us out to supper, if you'd like. Or we could stay in; there's not much here, but I could probably whip up something -."
"I'm not hungry," Theodore said curtly, dashing Remus's hopes.
"Are you certain?" he persisted, sounding very much like Molly Weasley (he nearly added 'dear' to the end of that question, but thankfully stopped himself, as saying such a thing surely would have made him look like a madman or pouffe-y creep).
Remus had expected another nonverbal answer, but Theodore surprised him, saying, "They gave me a potion at hospital. If I eat anything before noon tomorrow, I'll be sick."
"Oh," Remus lamely responded, though he was glad his nephew had actually spoken, he didn't know how to respond to that. He wondered why they'd given Theodore a potion. The kid wasn't ill; at least he didn't appear to be. Remus searched his brain, trying to remember a potion that prevented one from eating, but before he could even think of a single potion, his nephew spoke again.
"I'm kind of tired. Could I go to bed now?"
"Sure, sure," muttered Remus, slightly taken aback. Theodore got up and went up the flights of stairs to his room, thankfully not disturbing Mrs. Black's portrait.
When he left, Remus groaned and let his head fall to the table in a heap. That could not have possibly been worse. The kid hated him, hated being there, and would never help convict Nott. Remus looked at his watch, wondering if he too should be getting to be, and he realized with a start that it was only seven-thirty! It wasn't even dark yet! What kind of teenage boy went to bed at seven-thirty while on summer holiday? Something was up, and Remus wanted to know what.
Quietly, Remus went up the stairs to the room his nephew had chosen. It was on the first floor, and was one of the better rooms in the house, the girls having used it the previous summer. He knocked on the door softly and called, "Theodore? May I come in?"
After hearing no response for several seconds, Remus carefully entered and found, unsurprisingly, that his nephew was not sleeping. In fact, the boy was sitting on the bed, knees drawn up to his chest and head bowed: the same position he had been in at the hospital. He was still in his robes (school robes, Remus noticed and wondered how long he'd been wearing them), and looked a bit disheveled. It all made for a rather disconcerting picture, and worried the older wizard.
"Theodore?" he began cautiously, "are you all right?"
Remus had expected his nephew to merely nod or ignore the question, as he had all night, but Theodore's answer indicated that he had apparently had enough silence.
"No, you know what, I'm not all right," he snapped accusingly at Remus, as he lifted his head finally to reveal tear-streaked cheeks. "Why the hell should I be all right? My father's close to death, I haven't a home to go to, and the Ministry's sent me to stay, wand-less, with a werewolf they're claiming is my uncle, though I've never heard so much as a word of or from him, so I think I've every right to be not all right!"
Remus stood there for a moment, somewhat stunned by Theodore's outburst. The kid did have a very good point, he thought. The situation had to be ten times more difficult for Theodore than it was for Remus (and he found the arrangement rather terrifying, himself). So, Remus Lupin put on his best reassuring-teacher face, sat down next to his nephew, and tried to assuage the boy's fears one by one.
"From what they've told me," he said calmly and quietly, "your father will live."
"And a lot of good that'll do him in Azkaban," Theodore grumbled bitterly, again making a good point. Remus didn't have an answer for that, as he hoped Thaddeus Nott would be locked in the wizards' prison for the rest of his life and therefore couldn't proclaim that he hoped or expected otherwise, even for the sake of his nephew's happiness. So, Remus just changed the subject.
"Well, I am really your uncle; there's no question of that."
"I have plenty of questions about that," retorted the teenager sullenly. "Like why did my mother never mention your existence?"
"I don't know the answer to that, Theodore," sighed Remus sadly, thinking about his sister. "Did she ever say anything about her family to you?"
"I was told they wanted nothing to do with her after she married my father," he said cryptically, and Remus wondered exactly who had told Theodore that.
"Honestly, I didn't even know she'd been married," replied Remus, wanting to say more but stopping himself. He realized that his nephew would not respond if he blurted out the whole story of his parents' murder and sister's kidnaping. "But, if I had, I certainly would have kept in touch with her. For all these years, I've thought she was dead."
"She is," reported Theodore unflinchingly. His casualness disturbed Remus, and the older wizard drew back slightly, shocked. Theodore, however, looked quite pleased with himself and Remus realized that the boy's intent had been to startle him.
"So I've been told," the older wizard-replied cooly. "Though I wish that I'd been informed when it happened. I still don't know the exact year she died."
"When I was ten," said Theodore curtly, not offering any more information, to Remus's frustration.
At a loss for what to do next, Remus and Theodore just sat there in awkward silence for several minutes. Eventually, Remus decided to ask some more general questions, which would hopefully make his nephew more comfortable.
"What do you think of Grimmauld Place?"
"It's fine," answered Theodore, his eyes scanning the Spartan room. He was obviously trying to discourage Remus's attempts at conversation again, but the older wizard would not allow it.
"It was my friend's childhood home he left it to me in his will," Remus briefly wondered if Theodore was aware of the situation involving Sirius and Peter. His father must have known about it, as all Death Eaters did, but Remus was unsure if Nott, Sr. would tell his son anything. "It needs a little work; hasn't really been a home for nearly sixteen years. But we should be able to make it livable again over the next few weeks."
Theodore furrowed his eyebrows at the mention of 'we', but didn't say anything, as per usual. In truth, Remus was being a bit optimistic about fixing up Grimmauld Place in less than two months. Molly Weasley, the expert of all things domestic, had only managed to rid the old house of various magical infestations during her time there, and she'd put the entire house to work.
"And," Remus continued brightly, "we could probably bring a few more of your belongings over here, after the Ministry's cleared your house."
"I've got everything," stated Theodore. Remus looked to the boy's somewhat battered Hogwarts trunk and doubted his nephew was being entirely honest.
"Are you sure? It wouldn't be any trouble; I'm certain."
"I'm sure."
"All right," Remus acquiesced, but made a note to bring up the option again, at a better time. "Is there anything you want to ask? Anything about me, or the house, or this situation?"
Theodore looked as though he desperately wanted to ask something, but was biting his tongue. His nephew, Remus decided, was going to have to become more talkative if this was going to work out for anyone.
"You can ask anything," Remus encouraged him, smiling reassuringly. "I won't be angry, I swear."
The teenager lowered his head again and studied the quilt. He chewed nervously on his lip and was again pulling at the loose thread on his sleeve. Finally, he spoke:
"Er- I- I don't really know how to ask you this," he paused, looking up and scrutinizing Remus's face for any sign of disapproval, finding nothing but polite curiosity, "but, er, what do I do, you know, when you when the moon's full?"
"Oh, that," Remus was relieved that Theodore had finally asked a real question, not in anger or frustration, though there was more fear than Remus would have liked, but that was understandable. "I always take the Wolfsbane you know what that is, don't you?" (Theodore nodded), " so I'm harmless. But, just as a final safety precaution, I lock myself in the cellar and put up protection charms around it. If you like, during the full moon, we could have someone over to keep you company. I'm usually worse for wear afterwards, so one of my friends is normally here to help me out. Does that answer your question well enough?"
Theodore again nodded, though this time it was a bit more enthusiastic and Remus took that as a good sign.
"Well, do you still believe I'm not your uncle?" he asked lightly, changing the subject once again. Remus hoped that his somewhat teasing tone would keep Theodore from again pulling back. The boy didn't respond right away, but again began to fidget nervously with his sleeve. Remus, not wanting another period of silence to darken the mood, continued to speak, as if his question were rhetorical. "Because, you know, I've photographic evidence to prove it. Would you like me to show you?"
Theodore's head popped up quickly at his uncle's suggestion, and he didn't' have to nod for Remus to know he wanted to see the photos. The older wizard smiled triumphantly, making a mental note to thank Snape for the suggestion.
"They're in my room. I'll bring them here in a minute." Remus quickly retrieved the dusty old albums that he'd been carrying about in a battered suitcase for seventeen years. When he returned to the first floor bedroom, Theodore had stretched out, sitting properly at the edge of the bed now, instead of curled up in the middle. He eagerly eyed the items in Remus's arms, giving away his desperation to see his mother.
"Here we are," Remus sat down next to his nephew on the bed, making sure not to get too close. He set the other albums aside, opting for a red one with The Lupins emblazoned in gold across the front cover, though the years had dulled its shine. It was an old-fashioned album, with two-toned photos pasted on black construction paper and his mother's white script written underneath. Remus skipped over pages of his parents wedding and his own early childhood, until he got to the first picture of Roberta. It was of the entire family in front of their car at hospital, preparing to take little Bertie home for the very first time.
Theodore peered over the picture (the only one on the page featuring his mother, the rest were of Remus's pregnant mother and himself, in a rather humiliating sailor suit complete with a hat). It was a rather grainy photo, black and white, with the older members of the small family squinting into the sun, making their smiles look more like painful grimaces. After examining the photo for several seconds, Theodore finally spoke.
"What's wrong with the spell?"
Remus was slightly taken aback. He'd been expecting some question about the subjects of the picture and couldn't for his life figure out what Theodore was talking about.
"What do you mean?" he asked sincerely .
"It's not moving. Has the spell worn off?"
Then, the gears in Remus's head clicked and he knew what Theodore was talking about. The photo was a Muggle one; none of the Lupins were moving. Remus had become so accustomed to his family pictures standing still that he didn't expect anyone to be surprised by it.
"Oh, there's no spell on it," Remus answered, making sure he didn't sound condescending (after all, Theodore had probably never encountered a Muggle photo). "It's a Muggle picture. They don't move. My mother was a Muggle and she always said that pictures were supposed to capture a certain moment in time, just a split second, and save that moment forever. My father agreed with her I must say, I do as well so, I think all our photos are done Muggle-style. None of them move, but that means they're always there and won't run off when you want to see them."
"Oh," was all Theodore said, and he sounded a bit sheepish. Remus, however, was glad the boy didn't seem to have a negative opinion of Muggle photos, as many Pureblood wizards might. This was a good kid, Remus decided, who didn't sneer or smirk superiorly and who felt bad about not knowing something he couldn't have been expected to know. "Nice hat, by the way," he said dryly, looking at the photo of little sailor Remus.
Was that humor Remus heard from the sullen boy who'd been nothing but depressed or apathetic all evening? Oh, this plan was working out wonderfully, Remus thought with a smile. He'd have to be extra nice to Snape the next time they spoke, maybe even say something wrong about some Defense subject just so the Potions Master could have the satisfaction of correcting him it was something Snape enjoyed more than anything else.
"You should know I had nothing to do with that. My mother rather liked it, for some preposterous reason. In fact, I protested that hat adamantly. Never've liked hats since."
"You seem to be enjoying it quite a bit in the picture," Theodore pointed out casually, as if making an observation about the weather. Indeed, little-Remus was smiling hugely, his cheeks dimpled and his entire visage the picture of a happy childhood.
"I was too young to know better," replied Remus wryly, smiling. "Though, I recall my father telling my mother I'd hate her for it later. But mothers enjoy dressing their children in embarrassing outfits when they're little because they know they can get away with it."
"I know what you mean. My mum once made me wear frilly dress robes for a portrait. The hat ended up looking like a bonnet, because I'd pulled it back so much. Now, whenever people see that picture, they say, 'Oh, what a darling little girl! What's her name?'. It was especially bad when Draco saw it. I tried telling him it was my second-cousin or something, but he figured out it was me and I swear he broke a rib laughing."
Remus laughed too (thinking more of stiff Draco Malfoy, rolling about on the floor, guffawing than his nephew in frills), and Theodore smiled brightly, greatly resembling his mother. The older wizard was glad the boy could make fun of himself, and decided he must have gotten all these good traits from Bertie.
"I think I'm actually wearing a bonnet in some of my baby pictures."
"Really? Well, why don't we have a look then?" Theodore grinned widely at his uncle and acted as though he was going to turn the pages back, before Remus put his hand down on the book.
"There's plenty of time for that later," he said, smiling as he hadn't in days. Joking around with his nephew was one of the most enjoyable things Remus had experienced in a long time, and Theodore's personality matched Bertie's much more than the boy's physical features. It was almost like Remus's sister was there teasing him as she'd done so often during their childhood.
"Let's look at your mother now. I think there are several pictures of her in less-than-dignified situations, so you should be duly entertained."
They shared a smile and turned the pages. After that, the pair conversed easily and happily. Every once in a while, Remus would share a story about a certain picture. Some were funny, like his two-year-old sister on the seashore trying to give their dad a live crab. Some were bittersweet and sentimental, like when five-year-old Bertie sat by Remus's bedside, reading him a story after a full moon. As they went through the albums, watching the family age and change, Theodore and Remus bonded. Obviously, the boy adored (and missed) his mother and was grateful beyond words for Remus's connection to her. Also, Remus cherished the few stories about Bertie that Theodore shared with him. She had sung old Beatles' songs to him, though he never knew they were a Muggle band (and, he asked Remus, just what was a yellow submarine?). And they had made sugar cookies [AN biscuits, I think, for all you Brits :)] at Christmas, just as Remus and Bertie had done with their mother.
There were pages of more modern, colored pictures (some of these magical, as they were of Remus's friends), much to the delight of Theodore, before all the photos abruptly stopped.
"Why don't you have any more photos?" asked Theodore as they came to the last page (holding the same photo of Bertie that had graced her missing person's posters years ago). Remus had hoped the teenager wouldn't ask, but as the night had gone on, he'd become bolder and more inquisitive.
"Well, that was when your mother left," replied the werewolf slowly and vaguely, hoping in vain that it would end there.
"Left? Where did she go? To that Muggle you-need-varsity? She'd be too young for that, wouldn't she? It says she's only fourteen here. Why did the photos stop?" Theodore was suspicious and demanding. Remus suspected that a small part of him knew the answer, knew the whole story, but wasn't willing to face it.
Remus grimaced, wondering what he should say. Should he tell the entire truth? Or just say that Bertie had then run off with Nott, Sr. and leave it at that? Should he just outright lie? Remus ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
"That year that summer, actually just before Bertie's fifteenth birthday, our house was attacked by Death Eaters," Remus paused there and looked at his nephew. Theodore's face was stricken and he obviously knew what his uncle was going to say. Sighing, Remus continued. "I haven't seen my sister - your mother - since then. I don't know what happened to her, really."
There was a period of silence after that pronouncement. Theodore started in on his sleeve again (it was quite frayed, by now), and Remus looked about the room as if trying to find answers on what to do next from the furniture. To the older man's astonishment, Theodore spoke first.
"I think," he said quietly, keeping his head bowed, "I think I need some time alone."
"Certainly," replied Remus seriously, standing up. He smiled down at his nephew when the boy looked up. "It is getting rather late, so you should be getting to bed. You remember where the bathroom is if you'd like a shower, right? I leave these albums here in case you'd like to look through them again."
"Thank you, sir," Theodore smiled lightly at the books.
He acts as thought those were more precious than all the gold in Gringotts, Remus thought sadly, and to him they probably are.
"You're welcome, Theodore. Good night." Remus left the room softly, feeling contentedly exhausted.
"Good night. Remus."
AN: Well, I hoped you like it! The ending's so sweet it might rot your teeth, so remember to brush after reading ;). Please Review and tell me what you think good, bad, ugly, whatever!
REVIEWER RESPONSES: You guys rock!!
Lucidity Glad you liked the chapter! Theodore does know how to get into trouble (and get out of it), but right now he's kind of depressed, so he won't give Remus too much trouble just yet.
Alice Dodgson Thank you so much for that wonderful compliment and I'm glad you liked the chapter. I honestly don't know yet if I'm going to make this Remus/Tonks. I adore the ship, but don't know how well I'd write romance (I really hadn't much of an intention of even including everyone's favorite Metamorphmagus in this fic, but she just showed up in a Tonksy way). If I can, I'll work it into the fic, but as of right now they just have a close and flirty friendship. ;) If you really have the time to beta, I'd appreciate it if I could work that out with you. I'll e-mail you, kay?
Neoma Glad to see your review, keep it up, even if you don't like this chapter!
AN: Yes, I know terribly late. I have a good reason though!!! My dad and his friend decided to "fix" the computer, despite the fact that it wasn't broken and the fact that their computer knowledge consists of playing games and accessing espn.com. Thus, my computer was broken for like a week. I managed to fix it, using the technologically advanced method of shouting and turning it off and on till it worked. So, without further adieu, here is the fic!
When they arrived at Grimmauld Place in a cloud of soot and smoke, Remus's uneasiness only increased. His nephew didn't say a single word as Remus gave him the grand tour. The only indication that Theodore understood his words, was when the boy put his trunk down in the first bedroom they came across, after Remus suggested he choose a room. After they'd gone through the whole of the house, including the attic, Remus was feeling extremely uncomfortable and was having a difficult time remaining cheerful.
They had ended up back in the kitchen eventually, sitting across from each other at the table, neither meeting the other's eyes. Remus attempted to break the boy's silence, asking undemanding questions about school, Quidditch, the OWLs, and other such topics, but Theodore only nodded, shook his head or shrugged if he acknowledged his uncle's questions at all. Mostly, the boy just ignored Remus and fiddled with a loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve. It was all very unnerving for the werewolf.
After this had gone on for about fifteen trying minutes, Remus's stomach gave him an idea.
"Are you hungry at all?" he asked hopefully and with more glee than one should have when questioning a person's appetite. "A friend of mine offered to take us out to supper, if you'd like. Or we could stay in; there's not much here, but I could probably whip up something -."
"I'm not hungry," Theodore said curtly, dashing Remus's hopes.
"Are you certain?" he persisted, sounding very much like Molly Weasley (he nearly added 'dear' to the end of that question, but thankfully stopped himself, as saying such a thing surely would have made him look like a madman or pouffe-y creep).
Remus had expected another nonverbal answer, but Theodore surprised him, saying, "They gave me a potion at hospital. If I eat anything before noon tomorrow, I'll be sick."
"Oh," Remus lamely responded, though he was glad his nephew had actually spoken, he didn't know how to respond to that. He wondered why they'd given Theodore a potion. The kid wasn't ill; at least he didn't appear to be. Remus searched his brain, trying to remember a potion that prevented one from eating, but before he could even think of a single potion, his nephew spoke again.
"I'm kind of tired. Could I go to bed now?"
"Sure, sure," muttered Remus, slightly taken aback. Theodore got up and went up the flights of stairs to his room, thankfully not disturbing Mrs. Black's portrait.
When he left, Remus groaned and let his head fall to the table in a heap. That could not have possibly been worse. The kid hated him, hated being there, and would never help convict Nott. Remus looked at his watch, wondering if he too should be getting to be, and he realized with a start that it was only seven-thirty! It wasn't even dark yet! What kind of teenage boy went to bed at seven-thirty while on summer holiday? Something was up, and Remus wanted to know what.
Quietly, Remus went up the stairs to the room his nephew had chosen. It was on the first floor, and was one of the better rooms in the house, the girls having used it the previous summer. He knocked on the door softly and called, "Theodore? May I come in?"
After hearing no response for several seconds, Remus carefully entered and found, unsurprisingly, that his nephew was not sleeping. In fact, the boy was sitting on the bed, knees drawn up to his chest and head bowed: the same position he had been in at the hospital. He was still in his robes (school robes, Remus noticed and wondered how long he'd been wearing them), and looked a bit disheveled. It all made for a rather disconcerting picture, and worried the older wizard.
"Theodore?" he began cautiously, "are you all right?"
Remus had expected his nephew to merely nod or ignore the question, as he had all night, but Theodore's answer indicated that he had apparently had enough silence.
"No, you know what, I'm not all right," he snapped accusingly at Remus, as he lifted his head finally to reveal tear-streaked cheeks. "Why the hell should I be all right? My father's close to death, I haven't a home to go to, and the Ministry's sent me to stay, wand-less, with a werewolf they're claiming is my uncle, though I've never heard so much as a word of or from him, so I think I've every right to be not all right!"
Remus stood there for a moment, somewhat stunned by Theodore's outburst. The kid did have a very good point, he thought. The situation had to be ten times more difficult for Theodore than it was for Remus (and he found the arrangement rather terrifying, himself). So, Remus Lupin put on his best reassuring-teacher face, sat down next to his nephew, and tried to assuage the boy's fears one by one.
"From what they've told me," he said calmly and quietly, "your father will live."
"And a lot of good that'll do him in Azkaban," Theodore grumbled bitterly, again making a good point. Remus didn't have an answer for that, as he hoped Thaddeus Nott would be locked in the wizards' prison for the rest of his life and therefore couldn't proclaim that he hoped or expected otherwise, even for the sake of his nephew's happiness. So, Remus just changed the subject.
"Well, I am really your uncle; there's no question of that."
"I have plenty of questions about that," retorted the teenager sullenly. "Like why did my mother never mention your existence?"
"I don't know the answer to that, Theodore," sighed Remus sadly, thinking about his sister. "Did she ever say anything about her family to you?"
"I was told they wanted nothing to do with her after she married my father," he said cryptically, and Remus wondered exactly who had told Theodore that.
"Honestly, I didn't even know she'd been married," replied Remus, wanting to say more but stopping himself. He realized that his nephew would not respond if he blurted out the whole story of his parents' murder and sister's kidnaping. "But, if I had, I certainly would have kept in touch with her. For all these years, I've thought she was dead."
"She is," reported Theodore unflinchingly. His casualness disturbed Remus, and the older wizard drew back slightly, shocked. Theodore, however, looked quite pleased with himself and Remus realized that the boy's intent had been to startle him.
"So I've been told," the older wizard-replied cooly. "Though I wish that I'd been informed when it happened. I still don't know the exact year she died."
"When I was ten," said Theodore curtly, not offering any more information, to Remus's frustration.
At a loss for what to do next, Remus and Theodore just sat there in awkward silence for several minutes. Eventually, Remus decided to ask some more general questions, which would hopefully make his nephew more comfortable.
"What do you think of Grimmauld Place?"
"It's fine," answered Theodore, his eyes scanning the Spartan room. He was obviously trying to discourage Remus's attempts at conversation again, but the older wizard would not allow it.
"It was my friend's childhood home he left it to me in his will," Remus briefly wondered if Theodore was aware of the situation involving Sirius and Peter. His father must have known about it, as all Death Eaters did, but Remus was unsure if Nott, Sr. would tell his son anything. "It needs a little work; hasn't really been a home for nearly sixteen years. But we should be able to make it livable again over the next few weeks."
Theodore furrowed his eyebrows at the mention of 'we', but didn't say anything, as per usual. In truth, Remus was being a bit optimistic about fixing up Grimmauld Place in less than two months. Molly Weasley, the expert of all things domestic, had only managed to rid the old house of various magical infestations during her time there, and she'd put the entire house to work.
"And," Remus continued brightly, "we could probably bring a few more of your belongings over here, after the Ministry's cleared your house."
"I've got everything," stated Theodore. Remus looked to the boy's somewhat battered Hogwarts trunk and doubted his nephew was being entirely honest.
"Are you sure? It wouldn't be any trouble; I'm certain."
"I'm sure."
"All right," Remus acquiesced, but made a note to bring up the option again, at a better time. "Is there anything you want to ask? Anything about me, or the house, or this situation?"
Theodore looked as though he desperately wanted to ask something, but was biting his tongue. His nephew, Remus decided, was going to have to become more talkative if this was going to work out for anyone.
"You can ask anything," Remus encouraged him, smiling reassuringly. "I won't be angry, I swear."
The teenager lowered his head again and studied the quilt. He chewed nervously on his lip and was again pulling at the loose thread on his sleeve. Finally, he spoke:
"Er- I- I don't really know how to ask you this," he paused, looking up and scrutinizing Remus's face for any sign of disapproval, finding nothing but polite curiosity, "but, er, what do I do, you know, when you when the moon's full?"
"Oh, that," Remus was relieved that Theodore had finally asked a real question, not in anger or frustration, though there was more fear than Remus would have liked, but that was understandable. "I always take the Wolfsbane you know what that is, don't you?" (Theodore nodded), " so I'm harmless. But, just as a final safety precaution, I lock myself in the cellar and put up protection charms around it. If you like, during the full moon, we could have someone over to keep you company. I'm usually worse for wear afterwards, so one of my friends is normally here to help me out. Does that answer your question well enough?"
Theodore again nodded, though this time it was a bit more enthusiastic and Remus took that as a good sign.
"Well, do you still believe I'm not your uncle?" he asked lightly, changing the subject once again. Remus hoped that his somewhat teasing tone would keep Theodore from again pulling back. The boy didn't respond right away, but again began to fidget nervously with his sleeve. Remus, not wanting another period of silence to darken the mood, continued to speak, as if his question were rhetorical. "Because, you know, I've photographic evidence to prove it. Would you like me to show you?"
Theodore's head popped up quickly at his uncle's suggestion, and he didn't' have to nod for Remus to know he wanted to see the photos. The older wizard smiled triumphantly, making a mental note to thank Snape for the suggestion.
"They're in my room. I'll bring them here in a minute." Remus quickly retrieved the dusty old albums that he'd been carrying about in a battered suitcase for seventeen years. When he returned to the first floor bedroom, Theodore had stretched out, sitting properly at the edge of the bed now, instead of curled up in the middle. He eagerly eyed the items in Remus's arms, giving away his desperation to see his mother.
"Here we are," Remus sat down next to his nephew on the bed, making sure not to get too close. He set the other albums aside, opting for a red one with The Lupins emblazoned in gold across the front cover, though the years had dulled its shine. It was an old-fashioned album, with two-toned photos pasted on black construction paper and his mother's white script written underneath. Remus skipped over pages of his parents wedding and his own early childhood, until he got to the first picture of Roberta. It was of the entire family in front of their car at hospital, preparing to take little Bertie home for the very first time.
Theodore peered over the picture (the only one on the page featuring his mother, the rest were of Remus's pregnant mother and himself, in a rather humiliating sailor suit complete with a hat). It was a rather grainy photo, black and white, with the older members of the small family squinting into the sun, making their smiles look more like painful grimaces. After examining the photo for several seconds, Theodore finally spoke.
"What's wrong with the spell?"
Remus was slightly taken aback. He'd been expecting some question about the subjects of the picture and couldn't for his life figure out what Theodore was talking about.
"What do you mean?" he asked sincerely .
"It's not moving. Has the spell worn off?"
Then, the gears in Remus's head clicked and he knew what Theodore was talking about. The photo was a Muggle one; none of the Lupins were moving. Remus had become so accustomed to his family pictures standing still that he didn't expect anyone to be surprised by it.
"Oh, there's no spell on it," Remus answered, making sure he didn't sound condescending (after all, Theodore had probably never encountered a Muggle photo). "It's a Muggle picture. They don't move. My mother was a Muggle and she always said that pictures were supposed to capture a certain moment in time, just a split second, and save that moment forever. My father agreed with her I must say, I do as well so, I think all our photos are done Muggle-style. None of them move, but that means they're always there and won't run off when you want to see them."
"Oh," was all Theodore said, and he sounded a bit sheepish. Remus, however, was glad the boy didn't seem to have a negative opinion of Muggle photos, as many Pureblood wizards might. This was a good kid, Remus decided, who didn't sneer or smirk superiorly and who felt bad about not knowing something he couldn't have been expected to know. "Nice hat, by the way," he said dryly, looking at the photo of little sailor Remus.
Was that humor Remus heard from the sullen boy who'd been nothing but depressed or apathetic all evening? Oh, this plan was working out wonderfully, Remus thought with a smile. He'd have to be extra nice to Snape the next time they spoke, maybe even say something wrong about some Defense subject just so the Potions Master could have the satisfaction of correcting him it was something Snape enjoyed more than anything else.
"You should know I had nothing to do with that. My mother rather liked it, for some preposterous reason. In fact, I protested that hat adamantly. Never've liked hats since."
"You seem to be enjoying it quite a bit in the picture," Theodore pointed out casually, as if making an observation about the weather. Indeed, little-Remus was smiling hugely, his cheeks dimpled and his entire visage the picture of a happy childhood.
"I was too young to know better," replied Remus wryly, smiling. "Though, I recall my father telling my mother I'd hate her for it later. But mothers enjoy dressing their children in embarrassing outfits when they're little because they know they can get away with it."
"I know what you mean. My mum once made me wear frilly dress robes for a portrait. The hat ended up looking like a bonnet, because I'd pulled it back so much. Now, whenever people see that picture, they say, 'Oh, what a darling little girl! What's her name?'. It was especially bad when Draco saw it. I tried telling him it was my second-cousin or something, but he figured out it was me and I swear he broke a rib laughing."
Remus laughed too (thinking more of stiff Draco Malfoy, rolling about on the floor, guffawing than his nephew in frills), and Theodore smiled brightly, greatly resembling his mother. The older wizard was glad the boy could make fun of himself, and decided he must have gotten all these good traits from Bertie.
"I think I'm actually wearing a bonnet in some of my baby pictures."
"Really? Well, why don't we have a look then?" Theodore grinned widely at his uncle and acted as though he was going to turn the pages back, before Remus put his hand down on the book.
"There's plenty of time for that later," he said, smiling as he hadn't in days. Joking around with his nephew was one of the most enjoyable things Remus had experienced in a long time, and Theodore's personality matched Bertie's much more than the boy's physical features. It was almost like Remus's sister was there teasing him as she'd done so often during their childhood.
"Let's look at your mother now. I think there are several pictures of her in less-than-dignified situations, so you should be duly entertained."
They shared a smile and turned the pages. After that, the pair conversed easily and happily. Every once in a while, Remus would share a story about a certain picture. Some were funny, like his two-year-old sister on the seashore trying to give their dad a live crab. Some were bittersweet and sentimental, like when five-year-old Bertie sat by Remus's bedside, reading him a story after a full moon. As they went through the albums, watching the family age and change, Theodore and Remus bonded. Obviously, the boy adored (and missed) his mother and was grateful beyond words for Remus's connection to her. Also, Remus cherished the few stories about Bertie that Theodore shared with him. She had sung old Beatles' songs to him, though he never knew they were a Muggle band (and, he asked Remus, just what was a yellow submarine?). And they had made sugar cookies [AN biscuits, I think, for all you Brits :)] at Christmas, just as Remus and Bertie had done with their mother.
There were pages of more modern, colored pictures (some of these magical, as they were of Remus's friends), much to the delight of Theodore, before all the photos abruptly stopped.
"Why don't you have any more photos?" asked Theodore as they came to the last page (holding the same photo of Bertie that had graced her missing person's posters years ago). Remus had hoped the teenager wouldn't ask, but as the night had gone on, he'd become bolder and more inquisitive.
"Well, that was when your mother left," replied the werewolf slowly and vaguely, hoping in vain that it would end there.
"Left? Where did she go? To that Muggle you-need-varsity? She'd be too young for that, wouldn't she? It says she's only fourteen here. Why did the photos stop?" Theodore was suspicious and demanding. Remus suspected that a small part of him knew the answer, knew the whole story, but wasn't willing to face it.
Remus grimaced, wondering what he should say. Should he tell the entire truth? Or just say that Bertie had then run off with Nott, Sr. and leave it at that? Should he just outright lie? Remus ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
"That year that summer, actually just before Bertie's fifteenth birthday, our house was attacked by Death Eaters," Remus paused there and looked at his nephew. Theodore's face was stricken and he obviously knew what his uncle was going to say. Sighing, Remus continued. "I haven't seen my sister - your mother - since then. I don't know what happened to her, really."
There was a period of silence after that pronouncement. Theodore started in on his sleeve again (it was quite frayed, by now), and Remus looked about the room as if trying to find answers on what to do next from the furniture. To the older man's astonishment, Theodore spoke first.
"I think," he said quietly, keeping his head bowed, "I think I need some time alone."
"Certainly," replied Remus seriously, standing up. He smiled down at his nephew when the boy looked up. "It is getting rather late, so you should be getting to bed. You remember where the bathroom is if you'd like a shower, right? I leave these albums here in case you'd like to look through them again."
"Thank you, sir," Theodore smiled lightly at the books.
He acts as thought those were more precious than all the gold in Gringotts, Remus thought sadly, and to him they probably are.
"You're welcome, Theodore. Good night." Remus left the room softly, feeling contentedly exhausted.
"Good night. Remus."
AN: Well, I hoped you like it! The ending's so sweet it might rot your teeth, so remember to brush after reading ;). Please Review and tell me what you think good, bad, ugly, whatever!