July 10th, Wednesday

number of times I had to blush because Remus entered a room and the girls started giggling: countless; overpowering enemies I stood up to: 1 (Molly, and I think everybody agrees that standing up to her is definitely a brave thing to do)

Needless to say, by the time Molly woke us up the next morning at about 11 o'clock, I felt as if I'd been trampled by a herd of hippogriffs. Some time around seven, during "Sleepless in Seattle", we'd run out of pineapple juice, so I'd just drunk rum with coconut milk.

Of course, as soon as Molly had entered the room, she smelled the rat immediately – or rather, she smelled the alcohol. That was her keyword for a long tirade about giving alcohol to underaged witches, and rather strong muggle alcohol, too.

The girls tried to help me and argue with Molly, but she just sent them out to clean Buckbeak's room, and then I was completely alone with a Molly resembling an agitated chimara. I didn't think I would come out there alive, but I was prepared to fight. I remembered what the twins had once told me: Let her get it out of her system until she's exhausted, then strike. And so I did. After about twenty minutes, she took a pause to take a few breaths, and I took my chance to defend myself.

"Look, Molly, I can assure you neither of the girls drank much. They weren't even tipsy. Plus, they're old enough to have a cocktail from time to time, even if they're not of age yet. And it's not as if I'd given them pure rum. Nothing could've happened, they were in the house, for heavens sake. Would you rather they get pissed on Firewhiskey with older boys at a club? See?" Molly tried to say something, but I didn't let her.

"You know, I'm not as stupid and careless as you all seem to think, at least not when it comes to other persons' lives. I thought something when I planned this evening. These girls have more on their minds than they should at their age. Hell, they should be thinking about robes and boys and lipgloss, and instead they spend their summer holidays at the headquarters of a secret resistance order talking about war, and their evenings at school battling evil wizards. They deserve some distraction, and I managed to distract them. Because that's what young girls should do: Giggle and gossip and watch romance movies and try how much alcohol they can drink until they get tipsy." Breathe, breathe, breathe… and go!

"They're good girls, Molly, they won't do anything stupid just because they've had some juice and rum. They're not the type of girls who are making out with boys in broom cupboards or change their boyfriends every week. They're just not the little girls you saw go off to school anymore. You have to get used to that. But when you do, and you trust them, then they won't disappoint you. Just leave them a little space, and they'll turn out just fine."

Molly had turned away during my speech, but now she turned around again, and I could see tears in her eyes.

"I know all that, Tonks, I know it. I've been young myself once. But it's been so long, and with the war overshadowing everything, sometimes I forget that there are things you have to do and be when you're young. But I'll try and remember from now on. Thanks for opening my eyes." And then we hugged and cried, and Molly stayed with me for a little longer to talk. She even had some rum.

All of a sudden, she looked on her watch and paled.

"Oh my God, I'm supposed to have lunch ready by now! Everyone will arrive soon, and I haven't even started yet." She jumped up and hastened to the door, but then she turned around again.

"Now, for that I blame you!"

When I came back in clean clothes a few minutes later, I found Molly and the girls in the kitchen in front of a table with delicious food, group-hugging. They were all laughing and crying at the same time. I cleared my throat and they turned around and saw me.

"Tonks, the girls already made lunch, can you believe it?" She gestured for me to come closer, and we closed the hugging circle again, and the whole hugging and laughing and crying started all over again.

That's how Remus found us a few minutes later. He alarmed us of his presence by clearing his throat (a very Remus-like thing, which I have picked up for the rare occasion that I do not announce my presence by bumping into something) and we turned around to find him looking very alarmed.

"What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" I smiled at him reassuringly.

"No, everything's fine. We're just having, you know, a little moment here."

He looked puzzled.

"Then why are you crying? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Absolutely sure. Don't worry Remus. It's a girl thing."

Not much more happened that day except, as I already wrote, once the girls had stopped crying, they took to giggling every time (and I mean every time) Remus entered or left a room. Or looked at me. Or said something. Or did something. Or just moved.

Me, I was sitting there shaking with fear that he would notice anything, but he didn't.

Thank God.

You know, that's the good thing with all this Remus-trouble: I have loads of things to be thankful for.