AN - WARNING - This chapter deals with Remus' grief after losing loved ones. If you don't feel able to read it, you can skip to the next chapter.

Chapter Three - Grief, Love and New Traditions

The thing that finally convinced Remus to get out of bed, wasn't the sound of an explosion, followed immediately by Molly screaming at her sons. It wasn't Ginny's hollering down the stairs that she still couldn't find her rememberall, it wasn't even the smell of cinnamon that was wafting up from the kitchen informing Remus that Molly must have made her wonderful cinnamon rolls again.

Having showered and got dressed, Remus stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom he was using for the next week. He had put on his nicest cardigan, though it was still at least a few years old, and a pair of dark trousers, which at some point had been black but were now a little faded. He ruffled his hair for the tenth time, trying to get it to do something, rather than just hang limply. Looking at himself in the mirror he rolled his eyes. "She's a beautiful, smart, charming 21-year-old, she isn't going to be looking at you, no matter how many times you ruffle your hair, you old fool." Heeding his own pep talk, he walked out onto the landing, just as the charming 21-year-old herself was leaving her room, next door.

"Tonks!" It was the thought of seeing her again which had pulled him from his bed, making it a pleasure rather than a chore, "good morning."

Tonks smiled and then rolled her eyes, "I'm guessing the twins latest, invention gone wrong, woke you up too?"

Remus nodded, "Er, yes, something like that." She looked even more beautiful than she had the night before. Her hair was pink and spiky, the length highlighting her heart shaped face perfectly.

"Molly has been making her cinnamon rolls again, we better get down and get some before the twins demolish them." With that she took off down the stairs, practically bouncing. Remus followed her, at a slightly slower pace, reminding himself once again, that whilst he might not be old, he was certainly too old for her.

Remus spent the morning reading, enjoying the background noise, the bustle of a busy, family home. He was occasionally distracted from his book on something to do with the French revolution, by Tonk's attempts at baking with Molly. The pair were at the dining room table, Molly was making a cake and Tonks was supposedly making biscuits. Though she had already dropped the first mixture on the floor, in the glass bowl it was in, as she had waved it in the air to Remus across the room. The second attempt had made it a little further, not hitting the floor until she was about to roll it out, somehow it instead rolled right onto the floor. Her third attempt had been a success and she was happily cutting out shapes as she smiled goofily.

Remus smiled at the flour smudges on her cheek, noticed the spike of her hair that had drooped as she worked, the devastation of her apron, next to Molly's almost pristine one and the look of unadulterated joy on her face as she bounced over to him and grabbed his hand.

"Come look at my cookies, before they go in the oven, in case they get all miss shaped as they cook."

Remus allowed himself to be dragged to the table and smiled as he looked at the tray of brightly coloured stars. "They look wonderful. I look forward to tasting one."

Tonks lent in towards Remus, "I wouldn't if I were you, Molly's will be much nicer."

"I'll risk it."

Tonks beamed at him. "Could you help me with this?" She turned and Remus pulled on the bowed apron string at her back. Molly took the trays and disappeared into the kitchen with them.

Not long afterwards, Remus found himself back at the dining room table with most of the Weasley clan and Tonks.

Looking around the table, Remus felt a swell of something like gratitude, but more emotional. He was astonished at the lump forming in his throat. He'd always been welcome at the Weasley's. Though they hadn't been in the Order of the Phoenix with him during the war, having had so many young kids to feed; they had been allies. Hiding members of the Order when needed, Arthur passing on small titbits of information he could gather from the Ministry without detection. In those dark weeks at the height of Voldemort's reign, Remus had often sought sanctuary at the Burrow, in between his prolonged stays underground, with packs of his own kind. Every time he returned, expecting to be shunned, instead he always found open arms and welcome hearts.

He'd been about Tonk's age, when the worst had happened. When his 4 friends, his only real family since his parents had passed away, had all either taken or been taken from him. He had disappeared afterwards. Retreated to his parents, once beautiful, but without the means to tend to it, now dilapidated old cottage by the coast. He had drunk himself into a stupor, hoping the alcohol would allow him to forget. Forget what is was like to love and be loved – because he would never feel that again. All those he cared for were gone – that was his life now, alone, irrevocably alone. How his life should have always been. The life of a dark creature.

After a few weeks of drink and rage and wanting a void to swallow all the feelings he wanted desperately not to feel, Molly had turned up at his door. He remembered the sunlight burning his eyes as he'd opened the door an inch and she had pushed him out of the way, making her way into the living room. Tutting at the state of the place, the empty bottles of firewhiskey dotted around the floor by the armchair he had taken up residence in and the plates of left-over food, he had made but never quite gotten around to eating. She had shoved a parcel of sandwiches into his hands, pushed him towards his bedroom and told him to shower and eat – in that order.

By the time he had emerged from his bedroom, feeling admittedly fresher and eaten his sandwiches in the corner, out of Molly's way; the old cottage looked almost, cosy. Clean, cold, fresh air circulated through the windows she had opened, and Remus almost smiled as the scent of the cake she had placed in the oven reached his nose.

"Right, I'll be off." She'd said, taking a final look around the place. As she'd made her way to the door, she had placed her hand on his cheek, "I know you loved them Remus and it's hard. But enough now. For those we lost and for those that are still here, still alive and who still very much love you. Enough."

She had patted his cheek and walked to the door. Standing with it open, she'd turned and smiled at him, a look in her eyes, he didn't dare argue with and said, "We'll see you tonight for dinner, 7pm."

Remus smiled at the memory, it had been the moment he had realised just how selfish he had been and how lucky he was. The Weasley's had adopted him as a weird uncle who showed up whenever he could. It had hurt, those first few months to see how life moved on without his closest friends, to see the kids playing and laughing. To have the twins pull him into the yard and make him chase them around until they'd fall, giggling onto the grass. But it had healed him too. He'd held Molly as she had finally broken down, dealing with her own grief having lost her brothers at the hands of death eaters; supported Arthur as he'd tried to juggle supporting his grieving wife, being Father to seven children and taking on extra work as the Ministry of Magic tried desperately to rebuild and be the united front the wizarding world so desperately needed to see. Being there for others, as they were there for him, it helped him to slowly rebuild his own life. Learn to move on too.

But never to forget.

Looking still at those sat around him at the table, the fairy lights twinkling around the room, he understood the lump in his throat and the emotions in his chest. This was the first Christmas he hadn't spent alone in 12 years. It had always just felt too hard. So it had become the one time he would allow himself to sink back into that drunken stupor, to allow the pain to overtake him, the time set aside each year to grieve.

This year when Dumbledore asked whether had would be staying at the Castle over Christmas, Remus had told him he'd had an invitation from the Weasley's as he did every year to spend the holidays with them – though he'd had no real intention of taking them up on it. As he had walked into Hogsmeade, he thought about what a Christmas with the Weasley's would be like, the incredible food Molly was bound to make, the fun he'd have listening to the twins concoct more slightly dangerous pranks and the youngest Weasley would make him read her stories until Molly ushered her off to bed – or perhaps she was getting a little too old for that now. As he'd spun on the spot and thought of his parent's old cottage, he'd instead found himself on a Hill in Ottery St Catchpole, staring down at the Burrow.

Hearing Ginny squeal in delight as Fred handed her back her rememberall, telling her he had modified it for her so now it wouldn't just turn red but flash with whatever it was she'd forgotten, seeing Arthur and Molly exchange a small smile and finally, his eyes settling on Tonks…

Remus was very glad he had chosen this year to start a new Christmas Tradition.

The grief was still there, that hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach that took root the moment Dumbledore found him underground and told him the awful truth. He knew it would never leave, but just for a moment, as he looked at this family he'd grown to love and to Tonks, her bright hair and wide smile, he felt as though the pit might be the tiniest bit smaller than it was yesterday.

AN - Sorry for the sadness but I can't write Remus without it, I think everything he has been through is what makes his character so interesting. To make up for it though, I will be posting the next chapter tonight too! As always, your reviews, comments, favs and follows mean a lot! :) Hope you are all staying safe and well.