It was almost dusk by the time Remus got to the Wakefield home to meet Lottie and Tonks. In a few minutes' time, the three of them would address Lottie's former in-laws, who had abandoned her and her sons when the boys had become werewolves. The elder, extended Wakefield family had expressed interest in meeting the boys again, but Lottie, unsure if there was something else afoot, asked Remus and Tonks to be with her.
"It's not that I don't trust them," Lottie said, for what had to be the hundredth time. 'I don't want them hurting my boys."
"They won't," Tonks replied fiercely. "Remus and I wouldn't let them hurt a hair on either of their heads." She glanced at him and he nodded in response.
Remus heard the tell-tale crack of Apparition in the distance. Lottie recognized it too, as did Tonks, and they went to the door together to welcome Henry and Phoebe Wakefield, Lottie's former father and mother in law.
Remus waited in the living room, stirring a spoonful of sugar into his tea carefully; he heard the elder Wakefields exchange pleasantries with Lottie and introduce themselves to Tonks. He smiled wryly to himself upon hearing the elder Wakefields' surprise at having the Head Auror in their midst.
"Wait until you meet Remus," Lottie said, ushering them inside. "He's the boys' godfather."
"Godfather?" A low, gravelly voice asked. It was Henry, whose eyebrows went up into his forehead upon seeing Remus, clad in his teaching robes, enjoying a cup of tea.
"How do you do?" Remus asked, smiling. "I'm Remus Lupin. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. As Lottie mentioned, I'm Denys and Wally's godfather. That's my wife, who prefers to be called Tonks."
"I thought they didn't have a godfather?" Phoebe asked tentatively, eyeing Remus slowly. "I heard…you are a werewolf also, Mr. Lupin?"
"Call me Remus," he replied, as Tonks slid next to him on the worn couch. "That's correct. I am a werewolf. I was bitten when I was a little younger than your grandsons."
Henry and Phoebe took the furthest seats from Remus, gaping openmouthed at Tonks, who planted a kiss on Remus's cheek. He felt the color and warmth rise to his face, uncaring that Tonks was likely being more affectionate than usual, in part because of the Wakefields' visit.
"Your wife is not…?" Phoebe asked.
"I'm not, no," Tonks replied. "Neither are our children. Our daughter has a few lycanthropic symptoms or traits, but she is not a werewolf."
"It's true what they've been saying," Henry said. "Werewolves can father normal children."
"If by 'normal' you mean 'healthy,'" said Tonks, her pink eyebrows betraying the slightest irritation, "then yes. Hope might not be healthy in the way you might understand, but she's no worse off than most kids."
Lottie poured everyone another cup of tea and sat between her former in laws and the Lupins. Her hands shook slightly and her forehead was creased. Remus cleared his throat, noticing her tenseness.
"You may be surprised that we're here with Lottie," Remus began. "I hope you understand that when it comes to lycanthropes, the wizarding world hasn't always treated us with kindness."
Henry and Phoebe exchanged dark glances.
"Most werewolves keep to themselves. There are a few notable ones, such as Fenrir Greyback, who made things worse for all of us. It's not unlike the way Dark wizards such as Lord Voldemort—" The Wakefields shuddered at the name, though Lottie remained unmoved.
"As I was saying, wizards such as Voldemort and Grindelwald make all wizardkind look worse. We don't judge all wizards based on the actions of those two, so it's my hope we can discuss the relationship you're looking for with your grandsons."
"You're not their father," Henry said irately. Tonks scoffed but Remus shot her a pleading look to stay quiet.
"I'm not, and I certainly don't want to replace your late son," Remus said calmly. "However, Lottie named me their godfather and that's a role I take seriously."
"If it wasn't for Remus, my boys would never have gotten a chance to go to Hogwarts!" Lottie interrupted. "He taught the boys to cast their first spells! He has come to our aid and been more like family than you've ever been!"
Remus felt his face flush again under the praise. Tonks squeezed his arm gently, beaming with pride.
Phoebe's face had drained of its color. She muttered something into her husband's ear and cleared her throat.
"We don't want to fight," she said, her lips tight and thin. "We thought we might see them tonight. They were always good boys."
"They still are," Tonks interjected. "Denys is a third year Gryffindor and Wally is a first year Ravenclaw. They're at Hogwarts, where they belong."
"They allow them to sleep in the same dormitory as the others?" Henry asked, aghast. "The Prophet suggested a facility had been built to—"
"It's only for use at the full moon," said Remus. "They are getting the same education and experience as any other wizarding youth. They're good students and have made friends. Denys is particularly proficient at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. Wally's a bit young to tell, but he seems to especially enjoy Charms and Herbology."
A brief silence fell over the room. The kettle whistled again and Tonks went to get it, while Lottie sat tall and unwavering.
"Remarkable," Phoebe murmured, once Tonks returned. "May we see pictures of them?"
Lottie retrieved two large photo albums. One held Muggle photographs that she'd taken over the last few years; the other was a gift from Remus and Tonks, who'd charmed many of her pictures to move.
"Denys is just like our Lorcan," Henry whispered, wiping his eye with his sleeve. "Always looked like him, didn't he? It's like seeing him again."
"Wally takes after you, Lottie," said Phoebe. "He's got—"
"Lorcan's smile," Lottie finished. "I miss him dearly."
"So do we." Phoebe set her cup of tea down and met her husband's eyes. He coughed, marveling at the pictures of his grandsons, and set the album aside.
"We ought to tell you why we've come, after all this time," said Henry, keeping his gaze on Lottie. "You might remember, we've got a generous tract of land that's been in my family for centuries?"
"Of course I do," Lottie said, affronted. "Lorcan and I were married there."
Henry frowned slightly and shook his head. "Yes, of course, of course…we had to change many of our family wards for your Muggle family to see the place."
Tonks's hair was growing less pink and more orange as the conversation proceeded. Remus could almost feel her anger radiating off her body. Henry and Phoebe, like many purebloods, weren't outright against Muggles, but from the tone of their voices, it didn't sound as if they'd been pleased their son married a Muggle.
"Well, we thought that after – after Lorcan passed away," continued Henry, "our family line had ended. It appears it may not have?"
"It depends on the Ministry," Remus replied heavily. "Denys and Wally may have children someday, if these evaluations go well – perhaps you've read about it?"
"We have," Phoebe said, nodding. "We'd like to help."
"Help?" Tonks asked, scrunching her nose in confusion. "How?"
"We'd like to keep the land in the family," replied Henry. "We assumed we'd have to sell it off to Muggleborns—"
"Not that there's anything wrong with Muggles or Muggleborns," Phoebe said, seeing Lottie frown and Tonks's hair turn acid orange.
"My wife is a Metamorphmagus," Remus interrupted, seeing Henry gape at her. "Not sure if she mentioned it, but that's beside the point. I wonder…why did you consider selling the land if your grandsons could have it instead? Two young werewolves having land to run around on – or play Quidditch on—" Remus corrected himself, seeing the elder Wakefields shudder at the thought of werewolves on their land. "—Denys and Wally would benefit greatly from having land. If I may…why consider selling it instead of giving it to your grandsons?"
"We discovered some rather old, perhaps outdated laws regarding land," Henry informed. "Purebloods who have had land for more than a century are mandated to keep it within their families. If there are no suitable heirs….outdated term, I suppose…we can sell it to other magical families…or Muggle ones, if nothing else. We've found very few interested buyers, Muggle or magical."
Remus nodded in understanding. It wasn't surprising that the Wakefields were struggling to sell their land. The wealthiest families in Britain were hoarding their gold and most families likely didn't have what the Wakefields were asking for.
"Can I guess why Denys and Wally can't have it?" Tonks said bitterly. Not waiting for a reply, she added, "It's because they're werewolves, isn't it? Werewolves can't inherit pureblood land?"
Henry sighed heavily. "Yes…but if they have children who are normal—"
"Not lycanthropes, you mean," Tonks corrected.
"That's what we understand," Phoebe confirmed. "If Denys or Wally have a child, we can give the land to our great-grandchild and satisfy the laws."
"So, just to be clear," said Tonks, her voice low and menacing, "you don't want to sell the land to Muggles or Muggleborns. You can't give it to Denys or Wally, so you're here not to rekindle a relationship with your grandsons, but to make sure they have kids one day so your land stays in your family?"
"That's not wholly true—" Henry protested. Remus put his hand up to stop him.
"My wife is passionate about werewolf rights, as you might imagine," Remus said, putting his hand on Tonks's thigh to calm her. He could see the furious glint in her eyes and knew she was losing her patience. "I have another question. Why not try to change the law surrounding land inheritance? Then we wouldn't have to put undue pressure on Denys and Wally – or worry about whether the Ministry will support werewolves who want families."
Henry and Phoebe smiled awkwardly.
"You don't want to change those laws, do you?" Lottie asked suddenly, her jaw clenched and her face tight. Remus had never seen her so angry or riled up. "You'd rather wizards like my boys be excluded."
"I'm sure our grandsons are lovely boys," Phoebe replied, thin-lipped and sour-faced, "but can we say the same for the others? Those savages in The Prophet wanted to infect their children! You say that not all werewolves are dangerous and evil, but where's the proof?"
Remus inhaled sharply. He was the only werewolf he knew of that had the public image of being upstanding or honorable. Other than him, the only werewolves who had the chance of being anything like him were currently students. He was the only, lonely example of a virtuous werewolf.
"If werewolves weren't so abused by our society, maybe there'd be more 'proof,'" Tonks hissed. Remus put his hand on her arm and gently squeezed it. "If you truly want to help, you need to support the werewolves who are in danger of losing their kids! You can't just look out for your own selfish, self-interest!"
Henry and Phoebe sat red-faced, glaring daggers at Tonks. Remus rubbed his hands together and exhaled, steadying himself.
"Though I wouldn't have put it that way," Remus said, taking his wife's hand in his, "she has a point. I would think on what you're asking. Denys and Wally are clever, lovable boys. They'll understand that you don't care about them and that's going to hurt. I can't speak for Lottie, but that's not how I would want my own children to feel."
"I agree with Remus," Lottie said at once. "My sons are wonderful. They've had a difficult life and if I was magical, I would do more for them."
"You're already doing plenty," said Tonks. "You're helping educate Moira and Aven. Their evaluations were so much better in September than in August. You're helping loads, Lottie."
Seeing their lost expressions, Remus briefly detailed the situation with children of werewolves, their efforts to educate who they could, and the grim reality that they were likely leaving others behind.
"If you really want your land to stay in the family, you need to be willing to help all werewolves," Tonks declared. "Not just your grandsons. Are you going to do that or not?"
"You don't have to make a decision now," said Remus, hearing Henry and Phoebe mutter at each other angrily. "If Lottie agrees with me, I suggest we meet again to discuss this further."
"I've got an idea." Tonks leaned forward in her seat. Remus locked eyes on her; they were dark and twinkling, almost mischievous in the waning light of the setting sun. "All those werewolf kids need help. You've got land. Why not provide what you have to help all the werewolf kids?"
Remus turned his head to face the elder Wakefields.
"We will consider it," Phoebe said stiffly, tugging on her husband's robe sleeve. "We must be going."
Knowing Tonks would say more, Remus offered a cordial thank you and helped Lottie with seeing them out of the home. When he returned to the living room, Tonks looked at him with a knowing, judgmental brow.
"Before you say anything, I'm not upset with you for what you said. You were right."
"I was?"
"Yes, you were," Lottie said, coming back to her chair. "Thank you, Tonks. That was a wonderful idea."
"It probably could've been said a bit less—"
"Combatively?" Tonks interjected. "Rudely?"
"Perhaps," Remus replied, taking a seat next to her. "We ought to discuss this with Kingsley. Those pureblood laws sound familiar."
"Do you think that's why Sirius left Grimmauld Place and all his gold to Harry?" Tonks asked, snatching another biscuit from the tin. "Instead of helping you, even though you would've refused his help?"
Remus felt the heat rushing up to his neck. Thinking about his past poverty brought him shame and discomfort.
"Possibly," he replied feebly. Lottie cleared her throat, sensing the tension, and brought the conversation back to her former in-laws.
According to her, the elder Wakefields weren't thrilled that their only son had married a Muggle. Though they'd always been outwardly kind to her, Lottie never felt fully at ease with her pureblood in-laws. When her sons were born, their grandparents doted on them. When Denys and Wally each showed signs of magic as infants, the elder Wakefields lauded their son and daughter-in-law for producing two fine wizards. Everything was improving for Lottie until Fenrir Greyback came to visit them that fateful February moon.
When the boys were bitten, Lottie realized how divided wizarding society was, and how much worse it was for werewolves. At Lorcan's funeral, the elder Wakefields lamented the loss of their grandsons. Lottie never believed her sons dead, despite her in-laws' insistence that they were. When Remus rescued the children from the werewolf camp, Lottie wrote to Henry and Phoebe at once, but they made it clear in their response that they wanted nothing to do with their grandsons.
If it wasn't for Remus and the Lupin family, Lottie claimed, her sons never would've had a chance at a normal life.
"I want them to be happy," Lottie said, sighing as she took a picture of her sons from the album. "They suffer so much, so needlessly."
Tonks held Lottie's hand and reassured her that she and Remus would do whatever they could to help the boys.
"Even if I have to break into Kingsley's house," Tonks vowed. "I'll make this right. Everything's going to be just fine."
Remus nodded along, unsure if she was trying to convince Lottie, herself, or all three of them. He hoped she was right.
…
"Hey, Daddy?"
"Yes, Teddy?"
"Why don't dragons have eyebrows?"
Remus stared at his son, flabbergasted by the question. He felt the dripping of sauce down his hand from the wooden spoon he was using to prepare dinner. Teddy's face was set and serious. His little hand pointed to a picture of a dragon in one of his many books.
"Do dragons burn their eyebrows off?"
Remus wiped his hand and bent down to see Teddy's book. "I think dragons don't have eyebrows because they don't have hair. You need to have hair to have eyebrows."
Teddy frowned and asked, "How come dragons don't have hair?"
"They just don't. Some creatures don't have hair."
"But why not?"
"If a dragon had hair, don't you think it would be burning its hair off? It wouldn't make sense for a dragon to be hairy, now would it?"
Teddy gazed at the picture of the dragon, a Hungarian Horntail. "Do you think dragons want hair?"
"Maybe," Remus replied, stifling a chuckle at Teddy's concerned expression. "Why do you ask?"
"Unicorns have hair. Gran says unicorn hair goes in wands."
"That's right. So do dragon heartstrings and phoenix feathers."
"Hippogriffs have feathers." Teddy flipped through his book quickly and showed off a picture of a massive hippogriff. "Do hippogriff feathers go in wands?"
"I don't think so. Ollivander doesn't use them and his family have been making wands for centuries, since before either of us were born."
"Wow," Teddy breathed, looking up at Remus's wand. "Ollivana must be a million years old."
Remus laughed out loud. "His name is Ollivander. And what makes you think he's so old?"
"You're old," he said flatly. "Like Gran."
"Am I old, Teddy?" Tonks suddenly appeared in the kitchen with a smile on her face, her Auror robes halfway off her shoulders.
Teddy scrutinized her for a moment and nodded. "You're old, Mummy. Like Daddy and Gran."
Tonks feigned offense and morphed her hair gray. She made her skin wrinkly and liver-spotted, making her look several decades older.
"How about now, Teddy? Still old?"
"You look ugly," Teddy said, looking at her as if she were a plate of boiled cabbage. "I still love you even if you're ugly."
Tonks beamed at him and morphed back to her natural appearance, with mousy brown hair and faint crow's feet at the corners of her eyes.
"What about your dad? Do you think he's handsome?"
Teddy turned around from his hug and stared up at Remus. He shrugged.
"I think he's very handsome," Tonks said, grinning. "You and your dad are the most handsome wizards I know."
Teddy's hair became a bright pink as Tonks kissed his cheeks, and he wriggled out of her arms, embarrassed. She laughed, seeing him run off to his trains.
"He's asking so many questions lately," said Remus, admiring his wife from where he stood. "Dragons today."
"Yesterday he asked mum why some owls are white and others are brown. Then he asked if she had a boyfriend."
Remus almost dropped the pot of pasta onto the floor.
"I know," Tonks said, shaking her head. "I can't be certain where he got the idea, but I think I know."
Intrigued, Remus served dinner, bringing Hope and Teddy into the dining room to eat. Most of their dinner was spent trying to keep the children clean, with Hope more interested in bathing herself in tomato sauce than eating, while Teddy thought that eating spaghetti with his hands was more efficient than using his fork.
After a messy dinner, Remus did the washing up while Tonks prepared the children for bed. He made two cups of tea and brought them to the living room, waiting patiently for his wife to return.
Interested as he was in the idea that his mother-in-law might be dating, Remus had another idea in mind. The last few nights, he and his wife had returned to some intimacy together. They hadn't had sex yet, with the conversation of whether to have more children looming in the backs of their minds, and Remus was hoping that tonight they might discuss it, make a plan, and if she was willing, make love.
His recent releases with her were better than what he could do himself, but he missed being wrapped around her body and giving each other pleasure in a more intimate way. She made him feel human when she touched him; after over a year of near celibacy, he was literally aching for more.
Tonks finally came downstairs, having taken her work clothes off.
"I'm sure you're wondering about that boyfriend thing," she said, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch to wrap herself in. "Yesterday when I picked up the kids, she was wearing these high-waisted Muggle trousers and a big, cozy jumper. It looked good on her."
"And?" Remus asked, hoping the conversation wouldn't derail his other plans for the night.
"It was so weird seeing mum in Muggle clothes," Tonks said, plonking herself unceremoniously into an armchair, after tucking Teddy and Hope in their beds. Her hair morphed from its previous vibrant, emerald green to a softer sage. "I think she's met someone."
"I'm sure she's met several people at that support group," Remus said drily. Tonks rolled her eyes at him.
"She's met a lot of people, but I think she's met someone she likes…you know, that kind of like."
"Someone she fancies?"
Tonks stuck her tongue out and shuddered. "I knew it would be weird for me, but I didn't expect it to feel so wrong. I want her to be happy and everything, but I want to not imagine my mum flirting with some Muggle."
"Are you worried for her?"
"It's the Muggles who should be worried. They don't know she's a witch, much less a natural Legilimens. I reckon that whoever she fancies must fancy her too, and she knows it." She grimaced, her mouth twisting into a pained frown. She set her cup of tea down, staring through the window at Ophelia, their cat, chase a mouse unsuccessfully on the front porch.
"I'd say she's a good judge of character, but with how she's treated you in the past—"
"Your mother and I haven't had the best relationship," Remus said delicately. "We haven't spoken in a long time. The last time was for her help with Moira and Aven, but we focused on that."
Tonks tilted her head back and forth, deep in thought. "If you outlived me, would you try to get remarried?"
Remus inhaled quickly as he took a sip of his wine. It went down into his lungs, prompting a long, painful coughing fit.
Through his coughs, he managed to muster a firm "no" to his wife's question.
"Why not?"
"Would you?" Remus asked, feeling an uncomfortable tension in his body at the thought of his wife with any other, even if he was no longer alive.
"I don't know. I didn't like being without you last year. It was really lonely. Even when I thought we should split up, the idea of trying to find someone else just didn't sit right. It's probably 'cause we're mated."
Remus breathed a sigh of relief and nodded; for as many times as he'd tried pushing her away from him, she was his everything. After all they'd been through, he never wanted to be without her. Keeping his voice steady, he said, "As long as we're mated, it's impossible that we'd find any real happiness with someone else."
"But if one of us dies?"
"I certainly hope you'll outlive me."
"Witches live longer than wizards and you're older. I probably will outlive you, but I hope it's only by a day so I don't miss you too much." She grinned toothily at him and his heart did somersaults in his chest.
"I can't imagine being with anyone but you," said Remus. "You're the only woman I've ever loved."
"I know." Tonks untucked her feet from under her bum and got up from her chair, closing the space between them. She bent down and kissed him, moaning softly as their lips moved together in a dance she'd never stop loving.
"Tonks," he breathed, as she peppered his jaw with kisses, "we should talk."
She stopped instantly and her hair went silver.
"Talk?"
"About kids," he blurted. "We need to talk about what we want to do."
She sat back on his lap, with her legs straddling either side of him.
"You don't want any more, do you?"
Remus swallowed hard and sank his face into her shoulder, afraid to meet her eyes.
"We've only just got back to…not normal…but better. We can't."
"Never, or not now?"
Remus took several deep breaths against her chest. He heard the steady rhythm of her heart and felt her soft hair grazing his forehead.
Tonks's last pregnancy with Hope, and its aftermath, had almost torn their marriage apart. Remus couldn't fathom any reason why they should risk their marriage again for a third child – not when the Ministry could take away their chances at a third child, even if they wanted one.
Unless, he thought, that's what she's worried about.
"Are you worried that if the Ministry gets involved, we won't be able to have any more?"
Tonks pulled his head back from her chest and held his cheeks in her hands.
"A bit. I don't want them telling me what I can and can't do."
"That's not a good reason to have another baby."
Tonks jumped off his lap and he regretted his words instantly.
"I only mean that we shouldn't have another baby to spite the Ministry."
Tonks crossed her arms over her chest and sat back down on the other side of the living room, hurt.
"Did – do you want another?"
"Maybe…I don't know. I don't want my chance to be taken from me."
Remus clasped his hands together and set his feet down flat on the floor. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and exhaled through his mouth.
"Do you want another kid, Remus?" she said, interrupting his train of thought.
He blinked at her, startled. It wasn't as if he didn't want another child; he adored his two children more than anything else in the world, with the exception of his wife. His family brought him the greatest happiness he'd ever known. He was afraid another child would be born like Hope, with lycanthropic traits, or the pregnancy would be so hard on Tonks that she'd spiral and their marriage would end.
He wanted another child, but not at the cost of what it might do to his newly stable family.
"Your silence tells me no," Tonks said, in a small voice. "I get it."
"No, it's not that."
Remus hastily explained his thoughts and misgivings to her. He couldn't justify adding another little Lupin to the family under the current Ministry climate or when they'd just figured out how to be a family again. Nor could he justify bringing another child into the world who would suffer the way Hope did; though he hoped for a way to help her long-term, he felt it better to be honest with his wife and tell her how much it hurt him to see his daughter hurting.
"I don't regret having Hope," he said firmly. "I regret that she has an illness like mine, but I don't regret having her. Our marriage has been through enough. Our family has been through enough."
Tonks nodded along, her hair going from its silver to gray and mousy brown. She listened patiently and Remus's heart hammered in his chest, waiting for her to say something.
"Okay. I don't want another baby just for the sake of having another baby," she said slowly. Remus felt the relief soften his shoulders and he let out a contented sigh. "That being said…I don't want to say no to another baby forever, even if that baby is like Hope."
Remus bit back his retort. He didn't regret having his daughter, but he wanted no part in bringing another child like her into the world. The guilt he felt over Hope's illness was almost as unbearable as the physical pain he felt every full moon.
"If you promise we talk about this again in…a year? Will a year be enough time? The Ministry's evaluations will be over by then."
"All right," Remus agreed reluctantly, seeing Tonks smile. "I don't want to promise you that I'll change my mind. I'm willing to talk about it again but—"
"I know," she sighed, deflating. "Just promise me you'll think about it?"
"I will." He cleared his throat, thinking of the plans he had in mind before. "Where does that leave us for our…bedroom activities?"
"Merlin, Remus, just say sex," Tonks said, snorting and rolling her eyes. "We're both aching for it. I can tell."
Remus straightened up and eagerly waited for her to say more.
"I'll start taking the monthly potion at the end of the month, on Halloween. If you're really sure we shouldn't have kids, will you cast the Contraceptive Charms? Do you even know them?"
Remus flushed and nodded. "I know what they are, but I've never had the need to use them."
"You and I both know I'm not great at remembering the potions. You remind me of them and cast the Contraceptive Charms, just to be safe?"
Remus nodded. "So nothing…until November?"
Tonks returned to his side and took his hand. "You can wait another couple weeks?"
He plastered a smile to his face and nodded.
What was another three weeks, after a year?
She pressed a kiss to his cheek and curled up into his side.
It would be a long three weeks.
