Hello Hello!
I mentioned this already on my tumblr, and if you want updates for when I'll be posting or if want to talk to me then that is a great place to go! I don't know when the next time I'll be updating is, because at this rate I may just write up until I reach the Dramione bit of the story or around when it starts and then post a chapter daily or something like that. I don't know when that will be. I am extremely busy with real life right now.
I haven't officially decided if this is what I'm doing, but that is the way it's looking.
Sorry I haven't updated in so long, my muse has been having a lot of trouble with writing until recently, especially with FTT. My sincerest apologies.
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
For all my Remione ladies, do not fear, there shall be plenty Remione on the horizon, and also you can read 'A Dalliance In Time" my Remione time travel fic if you are in need of some lip ring Remus goodness.
If you read any of my other stories then just know that I'll try and update them when I can.
I hope you enjoy the chapter *hearts*
Tuesday, December 23rd, 1975
Potter Manor
"Shoo! Off to bed with you, Mipsy. You've been working your fingers to the bone all day," Dorea said in a no-nonsense tone, wagging her finger at the house elf.
"But Mistress, you've been busy entertaining all day you 'ave," Mipsy started but the pointed look Dorea threw over her shoulder silenced her.
Mipsy hovered for a few more moments before she let out a hefty sigh, leaving whilst shaking her head with affectionate disapproval; leaving Dorea all on her own for the first time today.
They had a full house for the holidays; The Lupins, Sirius and until around midday Draco's girlfriend Marlene were all staying in their humble abode. The only person missing out of the Marauders was Peter, and he couldn't come because his Mother had taken poorly—unfortunately, none of his friends knew that, he'd made up an excuse about how they were travelling this year and wouldn't be back until the day before term resumed.
Dorea smiled wryly as she recalled how out of place Lyall had looked his first day here, he'd closed himself off for so many years, always blaming himself for what had happened to Remus, always thinking that it was his fault, the guilt swallowing him whole.
He's slowly forgiving himself, Dorea thought. Scrunching up her nose in concentration as she went back to the task of washing all the dishes by hand; it was a peaceful task and she found it helped her to sort her thoughts, to compartmentalise.
She reached out and turned the taps until the water was a touch cooler than scalding hot, the sound of running water soothing her as she picked up the soapy sponge and began to tackle the largest pot first.
There was just something about this time of year, something magical. Peals of laughter that warmed the house just as much as the roaring flames in the fireplace, snow footprints trekked into the foyer and sheepish apologies, massive snow fights, quiet moments shared curled up under thick blankets.
Charlus's cold feet sending a jolt up my spine when he gets into bed, Dorea mused. There weren't that many dishes since Mipsy had gotten through a lot of them before Dorea had sent her to bed, so she picked up one of the last places and began to scrub away at it.
She knew that this was not a happy time for everyone, that even this time of year was not safe from pain, suffering and darkness. She knew that something had changed this year. All of the decorations went up just the same, all the same foods were being made and consumed, but, there was a cold that clung to her spine that refused to leave.
It's him, the one who wix are beginning to whisper about. The one they blame all the strange happenings on...like folks disappearing, muggles and wix alike, Dorea paused in her washing, taking a deep breath before she rinsed off the last plate, setting it to the side. With a tiny frown she withdrew her wand and sent a drying spell at all of the dishes, murmuring the incantations under her breath as she sent them to their respective cupboards and drawers.
She tucked her wand into the centre of her loose, messy bun, and she stared straight ahead out of the slightly fogged up window as her hand blindly sought out the dishtowel she had put on the left hand side of the sink.
Dorea's slender fingers brushed against the soft material and she grabbed ahold of it, quickly drying her hands. Grey orbs staring out at the inky sky littered with white flecks.
Fear gripped her in that moment as she put the towel down with a shaking hand, not even thinking to hang it up. Fear that whatever was coming would steal those she loved from her, her children, her husband, Mipsy, all those she held dear.
An image of Hope's smiling face as she sat across from Dorea during teatime earlier that day flashes through her mind.
"Thank you so much for inviting us to stay for the holidays, Dorea. You have such a lovely home...and I am eternally grateful for everything you've done for us."
The two women had been alone in the Sun Room, passing the time by sharing stories of their children's exploits from when they were younger, but suddenly Hope had turned to Dorea, tears shining in her eyes, her tiny hands moving to grasp Dorea's tightly, and she'd thanked her.
"You don't need to thank me, dear. Remus is a darling, that's why my children befriended him...he's a good boy, Hope. You raised a fine young man."
"But...you let him into your home even though you knew that...you knew that he was a W-Werewolf."
Dorea smiled gently, squeezing Hope's hands, "being a Werewolf doesn't define who he is as a person. He's so much more than that."
Tears were flowing freely down Hope's cheeks now, "still...thank you.
Dorea put a hand on her lower abdomen as she slowly left the kitchen, the cold stone biting her bare feet until she reached the hardwood in the corridor. The house was silent and dark, all of the other occupants slumbering away in their respective rooms.
The chill had intensified just after her touching moment with Hope, a sense of foreboding had washed over her, all of her instincts were screaming that something was dreadfully wrong, that this peaceful happiness would not last. That they were teetering on the edge of darkness, and in their content bliss they would miss it creeping up on them, and then when it was too late it would engulf them all.
Dorea had just reached the staircase that led to her and Charlus's section of the house when she heard soft humming.
Now who could that be? Dorea wondered mentally as she followed the noise to the main living space. The fireplace on the far side of the room was still lit, the flames low, the warm orange light flickering across the walls and emphasising the harsh shadows covering the face of the witch curled up on the couch. She was staring listlessly at the blackened logs, their skin seemed to be splitting open with all the cracks woven across them and the red light that filled the same said cracks; she was cradling a cup of what be cold tea in her hands, her thumb absently stroking along its ceramic side.
"Hermione? Sweetheart, I thought you were in bed," Dorea said gently as she walked around the sofa and gently sank into it, snuggling up to her daughter.
Hermione smiled wistfully, and scooted closer to her Mother, tucking her head under Dorea's chin. "I couldn't sleep." Escaping her Mother's grasp for a moment as she placed her cup on the coffee table, leaning back and returning to her previous position.
Dorea was quiet for a long moment, breathing in deeply before she began stroking Hermione's hair.
"Do you feel it too? Things are changing." Everything is changing, she added to herself silently.
Dorea closed her eyes when Hermione stiffened. That could not be a good sign. She's always suspected that her beautiful children know more than they could or would let on, but the slight tremble of her daughter only seems to outright confirm that suspicion.
Another tense moment passed before Hermione nodded subtlety, snuggling in closer to her Mother.
Dorea clutched her daughter tighter, "I love you, sweetie," she said as she placed a swift kiss to the top of Hermione's head.
"I love you too, Mummy," Hermione murmured.
I fear the gravity of what you are hiding my darling, Dorea thought sadly. Dorea turned to peer out the window, staring out at the inky blue black sky and smiled morosely. There was nothing more to be said, so she simply squeezed her daughter tighter, and hoped that all of her children survived the dark time they had ahead of them.