A/N: Happy Birthday One Month and Four Days Ago, aikakone! This chapter doesn't end very well, but it's how it goes in my head so I can't write anything else. It's weird.

Sirius Black's mother, in the later years of her life, was not the most appealing woman in the world. She was dirty and yellowish with graying hair and a maniacal grin that could send chills down a person's spine. Everyone in 12 Grimmauld Place tried desperately to avoid her, but Ginny Weasley found her rather fascinating. At first, for the simple reason that when Mrs Black was screaming she looked suspiciously like Percy: skin wrinkled, shadowed and folding in the most peculiar places whilst it seemed to tighten in others. But, upon further examination, the curious redhead began to notice things that were much more interesting than a strange resemblance to one of her brothers.

When she would be walking down the stairs or, far more frequently, bored out of her mind she would sit and stare at the painting by the doorway and examine it's subject with a slightly wary -- and yet, still intrigued -- eye. Whether on the bottom step or in the middle of the hallway, Ginny would stop in her tracks and watch Mrs Black as she would be in the midst of a fit of hysterical laughter, downing one of several bottles of scotch that had been snatched from an abstract painting upstairs, or occasionally listen to her rant about the filth that had invaded her sacred house. The sixteen-year-old was smart enough not to try and carry on a conversation with her -- Charlie and Bill had tried the previous summer and ended up with a shrieking fit and unthinkable insults flying from the woman's mouth.

Even Ron had never heard most of those words.

After that, everyone was warned to stay away from "that bloody awful woman" -- but Ginny didn't. For some reason, she liked to know the effect that certain behavioral patterns could have on a person. So, as everyone bustled around her, giving consolation to those that needed it and carrying out plans for the Order, she was constantly learning that one's sanity was a very large price to pay for pureblooded comfort.

She was also beginning to think how lonely it must be, constantly excluding people just because they have Muggle blood in their veins, or because they're beyond normal, or perhaps a bit too young for what's going on around them. That was why Ginny was alone most of the time -- she was too young, and had no one in the house with whom to wallow in self-pity because of the fact. Ron had Harry and Hermione, but now that they were in their final year of school they were being included.

She... Well, she had Mrs Black, and was considering her lack of people to associate with when she suddenly found one.

Remus Lupin, while not the most pleasant person on the face of the earth, was always a polite and gentlemanly character. His sense of humor was, of course, somewhat morbid but when he joined Ginny in staring at the woman hanging on the wall there was really nothing to complain about. They simply stood on the landing, watching and seeing and listening. He stayed with her throughout the entire afternoon and only left her company when they went to their seats at the table.

The next day, he joined her again and bowed slightly as she acknowledged him. They sat on the bottom second to last stair, arms resting on their knees and eyes gazing up at the gold-framed painting of the erratic Mrs Black. While she had been very happy to have some company the other day, she couldn't help but wonder why, exactly, he was sitting next to her. Did he feel sorry for her, because she always seemed to be alone? Did she seem very pitiful, then? And if this was an act of pity, shouldn't he have heard by now that she had plenty of things going through her mind to keep her busy? Pranks and jokes and hexes to learn for when she was back at school and that foul Pansy Parkinson was picking on her...

"Why aren't you... you know... working, Mr Lupin?" she asked, turning to face him with what she hoped was an intimidating look.

Then again, she was sixteen and he was near -- or past -- thirty-eight. She wasn't likely to intimidate him. But, he didn't seem amused by her frankness, either, as he leant closer. An air of confidentiality surrounded him, and when his face was decidedly close enough for him to whisper, he said (quite secretively):

"It's my time of the month," He turned back to Mrs Black with an ironic little smile and added, "By the way, you can call me Remus."

The rest of the day passed in complete silence for the two of them.

He continued joining her as often as possible, although he was gone a considerable amount of the time when his health permitted. Meanwhile, when she wasn't busy with the painting everyone else seemed to loathe, Ginny had taken to baking. Nothing fancy and, as it was summer, nothing magical. Just simple things like cakes and biscuits that everyone enjoyed, and that she could hide for when Remus came home from whatever mission he'd been sent on. He would eat them as they sat in front of Mrs Black; the fact that each the fifteen or so she gave him would mysteriously vanish within five minutes became her only compliment.

"You know," he told her as they headed towards the kitchen for breakfast one morning, "Werewolves love biscuits. I don't know why, exactly, but I suspect that they get a bit tired of biting bland things... like people, for example."

"People are bland?" she had asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, yes. Very," he replied. She sat on the stairs with another batch of biscuits -- plus muffins, cakes and a rather neat-looking pastry -- for him, waiting for him to emerge from the darkest depths of his bedroom so that they might start their day happily. Last night, he had gotten back from what she suspected was recruiting more werewolves to their side looking infinitely more tired and morose than she had ever seen him before. She had stayed up very late with her baking, and while she felt as though she could fall over that very second, Ginny was very proud of herself for preparing an actual pastry without her mother or a spell.

Ron, Harry and Hermione made their way down the stairs at half-past eight with two of the company trying to nick a muffin. Then came Tonks and Mad-Eye at nine, shortly followed by her Mum. She waited there until quarter-past ten, when Remus finally made his way into the hallway and down towards her. Upon seeing the extensive plate of baked goods, his eyes widened.

"Good Lord," he said. "What's this?"

"A bakery," she replied, patting the top of the stair she occupied with her hand. "You looked very tired last night, so I supposed you might like a muffin or two along with the biscuits. And I made a pastry for you," she sighed as he sat next to her, happily snatching a muffin from the plate. "It's a rather pretty thing, but I'm not entirely sure how good it tastes."

"I'm sure it will be lovely," Remus said.

Ginny watched him eat in brief, stolen glances that each seemed to make her progressively joyous. As usual, everything was consumed within a relatively short amount of time and he apologized for his lack of manners. She accepted them, knowing that it must be a very vexing thing to be an agent for the Order. She told him that he must get very hungry. He said that was very true.

It was still for a very long time, perhaps two hours, before either of them spoke again.

"Ginny," he said, "I think, that if you weren't quite so young, I'd marry you."

She smiled. "That's very sweet, but I don't think anyone would take kindly to the idea."

They fell once more into the deep silence that they shared, and he continued to clasp her hand as they stared up at Mrs Black -- the symbol of their once-felt loneliness. They shared just three more days like it before Ginny found herself headed back to school, to the emotional detachment and high levels of fear. And while Mrs Black did tend to make her rather depressed, she couldn't remember ever being afraid of anything when Remus was with her.

He wasn't afraid when she was near him, either, although she didn't know that. She also didn't know that he was serious about marrying her.