Disclaimer: The amazing JKR owns Harry Potter. I do not.

Fairy Tale Love

You don't believe in fate. You don't believe that people are destined for each other. You don't believe in love at first sight or soul mates or any of those silly fairy tale things. You just don't.

You don't believe that some people simply know they are made for each other, and proceed to live happily ever after. You can't.

You believe in love, though. You believe that people can come to know each other, to want each other and to trust each other. You believe that love is work, but that it is worth the effort.

You believe in Remus Lupin.

"It was a lovely service," you say hesitantly, on the second round around the lake. You don't think you can stand the silence anymore.

"Y-yes, it was," Remus says. It is difficult for him to speak, and you wonder if he's remembering the good times or being haunted by the bad.

"Dumbledore would have been touched," you say. He nods, and you hope this death hasn't broken him.

"Thank you for sitting with me," he says after a moment.

Your eyes widen, and you stare at him.

"No, thank you for letting me." And because he looks so sad and so lost, you start babbling. "I hope no one minded the pink hair. I thought it might seem disrespectful, but I think Dumbledore would have liked it. When I was at Hogwarts, he was the only one to never mention my hair color. McGonagall used hate my hair. I think it's grown on her, though. I feel so bad for her; did you see how blank she was at the funeral? She's scared, I think. How can she not be? Dumbledore is dead."

"Are you scared?" he asks you softly.

You nod.

"Of what?"

"The people I love dying."

He closes his eyes for just a brief moment, and says nothing. He doesn't need to, though. You understand. He's just as scared as you are.

You want to be happy with Remus. You want him to be happy with you. You want to live with him and make children with him and raise a family with him. You want him to want all that, too.

You want a lot of things.

You want You-Know-Who dead and Dumbledore alive. You want Ron and Hermione to name their (for Molly's sake, future) children after Remus. You want Harry to lose that weary look in his eyes and you want Ginny to get her spark back. You want to make friends at work without worrying about spies and double-crossers. You want dementors to stop attacking the friends you do have.

You want Snape and Bellatrix to suffer. You want them to suffer, and then you want them to suffer, and then you want them to suffer some more. You want Sirius back.

You want to sit under the moonlight with the man you love without him drinking potions to protect you. You want to cure Remus, to save him from himself.

You want the impossible.

A week after the funeral, Remus comes to see you. You know why he's here.

"I'm leaving, Dora," he says, not even coming inside. He stands in the doorway, and in the early morning light you can just make out the scars on his face.

You know you should be sad, but you are happy he came to say good-bye. And you smile slightly at his new nickname for you.

"Give Greyback hell for me," you say.

"I wish I could," he says. "But that would make it difficult to get on their good side."

"Okay," you say, "send him to me, then. I'll give him hell myself."

"Oh, no," he says sharply, "it's bad enough you spend so much time with me. A girl can only surround herself with so many werewolves."

"Calm down, Remus, I was only kidding. Though, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Of course you are, Dora, but I worry," he says.

"I worry about you," you say.

You stare at each other for a moment, before he pulls himself together, pecks you on the cheek and turns to leave.

"Remus," you say, "I love you and if you do anything stupid enough to get yourself killed, I'll be furious."

"I'm an intelligent man, Dora. I intend to make it home alive."

Neither of you mention that what Remus intends to happen rarely does. Poor man, he's not had an easy life.

"I love you, too," he says, pulling you into a hug.

You don't cry until after he's left. You hate crying in front of other people.

You try to be strong. You try to wear matching outfits, arrive to work on time, spy on the Ministry, save the wizarding world, stay optimistic and chat with Molly—all on four hours of restless sleep.

You try to sleep. You try not to worry, to obsess. You try not to think about Remus. You try to be patient. You try counting sheep, but it doesn't work. So you try counting the stars you can see out of your window. You try not to notice how full the moon is, or think about the pain Remus will be feeling tomorrow night.

You try to remember that you love him and he loves you and that even if this isn't a fairy tale, things will work out in the end. You try to believe that love is enough because—damn it—it should be.

And you try not to cry.

The End.