Author's note: Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. You know I'm not her because #transrights.

Hogwarts: Assignment #3, Healer Studies Task #4 Write about a problem that won't go away or be solved.

Warnings: Canon character deaths; orphanhood; grief

As Much As I Could Find

"I've loved you since the day we met," Harry informed Teddy, making him blush. No matter how honest Harry was, this wasn't the kind of thing that a cool eleven-year-old wanted to hear from his sappy godfather—especially not out of the blue, on the front steps of his grandmother's house, after being Apparated home after a weekend at the Potters.

"I love you too," Teddy muttered—but Harry wasn't done.

"But I'm not the only one who has," Harry said. "As a matter of fact, I was late to the game, all things considered."

He reached into the satchel around his shoulder and pulled out a box the size of the shoebox, though constructed in a light and beautiful wood. It was wrapped with a turquoise ribbon in Teddy's favourite colour.

"What's this?" Teddy asked, taking the box when it was handed to him. It was heavier than Teddy had anticipated it would be.

"Part of your eleventh birthday present," Harry said. "I just didn't want to give it to you in front of the others because it's… well, I was given something similar by someone else who cared about me, and I keep mine close to my chest."

Teddy frowned, really not understanding.

"Well, I'm sure your grandmother missed you over the weekend," Harry said, nudging his head towards the front door. "Say hello to her for me."

"I will," Teddy promised as he always did. He hugged the box to himself and let himself into the house, curious to see what was inside and what had left his godfather so cryptic and grim.

Dear Teddy,

When I was eleven, Hagrid made me a photo album with pictures of my parents that he'd gotten from their old friends and acquaintances. It is, to this day, one of my most prized possessions.

I wanted you to have something similar, but I ran into a few problems. For one thing, there don't seem to be many photos of your father around. When I asked your grandfather, he said that your dad hated being in pictures. The ones that do exist, I think you've seen before. As for your mum, she never looks the same from one photograph to the next, she was far too colourful. So I thought I would have to be a little bit more creative and a little bit more three-dimensional.

I gave you as much as I could find of your parents. Could it be more? Maybe. Should it be more? Yes. It definitely, definitely should. But this is what I could find. I know it won't fix the fact that they're gone. On nights when you feel alone and frustrated, nothing here will fix the problem of them being gone. But I hope that you'll at least have this, which will be better than nothing.

So, in no particular order, here's what's in your box:

A paint chip with the exact shade of pink that your mum favoured the most (and some extras because she really did love to change things around as much as you do)

"What about this?"

Remus looked up from his book for the upteenth time to look at the shade of sky blue that Dora's hair was now.

"You look beautiful," Remus said. This was, after all, his standard reply to anything she showed him.

"You keep saying that when you're supposed to be helping me pick a colour," Dora chastised. She looked in the mirror again and scrunched up her nose, this time turning her hair a much more dramatically deep and unctuous shade of midnight blue. She turned back to look at him.

"I don't know what to tell you," Remus said. "You just always look beautiful."

She crossed her arms over her chest. She was wearing a black dress that stopped just above her knee and seemed to wrap around her like a kimono, sleeves flowing down to her wrist. The loose fit of the dress camouflaged the baby bump that was starting to protrude. She put one hand on her hip, which was how Remus knew he might be in trouble.

"I love you, but you're absolutely no help," she said categorically.

He closed his book and tossed it aside. "Can you blame me for thinking you're beautiful in whatever shape and shade you put your body in?"

"I'm trying to do a nice thing here, finding a nice shade of blue for your birthday," Dora said. "It's your favourite colour on me, isn't it?"

"Well…" Remus was scrambling now, trying to think of the right thing to say or do to counterbalance the truth.

"What is it?" Dora frowned.

"Blue is my favourite colour," Remus admitted. "But on you… well, I quite like your usual shade of pink. The one you were wearing when we first met."

"Oh," Dora said. "Do you really?"

"I do," Remus promised. It made him think of simpler times, of happy times, and best of all he knew it was one hundred percent, genuine, authentic Dora. That was what he really loved.

"Oh," Dora said again. "Well that's easy."

She scrunched up her nose and the obnoxiously bubblegum shade of pink he'd come to love spread across her hair, which fell down to her chin now.

"Would you kill me if I called you beautiful again?" Remus asked.

"Maybe," Dora said, taking her time to cross the room and come sit on his lap. "You should try me."

Sheet music from your dad's collection. Your grandmother said this one was a piece he played often, when he was over at her house and had access to a piano.

She peeled herself off the doorway to the parlour before he finished playing and stuck her hands in her pockets as Remus played the final notes. Even after that, his hands hovered over the black and ivory piano keys before him.

"I didn't know you could play," she said. She wasn't surprised, necessarily, but she was thankful to finally have found an excuse to talk to him outside of Order meetings—where he was always so focused and clever and wise.

Remus startled on the piano bench where he sat and turned around to look at her.

"Oh, hello," he said.

"Hi," she said.

"I thought you were gone," Remus said. "I mean—that you had gone home for the night…"

"I have an early morning shift tomorrow and so Sirius said I could take a spare bedroom for the night," she explained.

"Ah, I see," Remus said. "Well, I apologize if my playing kept you up…"

"Not at all," Tonks said. "You're quite good, you know."

"Thank you," he said shyly. "I haven't played in… well, years."

"Neither have I," she said. "My mum made me learn when I was little, though. She outgrew most of the pureblood indoctrination of a good Black daughter, but she did hold on to piano lessons as a crucial part of my education."

Remus smiled.

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked.

Dora shrugged.

"I do remember some things," she said. She went to join him on the piano bench and he shied away from her, clearing his throat. She looked over at him but he didn't say anything, and so Dora played the only piece she remembered even half-assedly. And half-assed it was, but Remus was polite enough to say she had done well and picked up the parts she had forgotten.

Blue ink the colour that your dad used to grade essays when he taught at Hogwarts (he was always our favourite teacher because he never used red ink, which was just so harsh)

"I need a favour," Dora said.

Remus turned around and chewed on his lip. She had him cornered in the Burrow's shed, where the Weasley children kept their broomsticks and where the Order now kept part of its archive since they'd had to vacate Grimmauld Place.

"I don't know that that's…"

"I have an ounce of self control left in me," she said sarcastically. "I promise I won't throw myself at you. Like I said, I just need a favour."

Remus swallowed hard, but no matter how difficult it had been both to be near her and to stay away from her since Sirius' death and their breakup, he couldn't say no to a favour. Even on a day like today where the luxurious burgundy shade of her hair and the grey of her eyes made her other features look so delicate, so beautiful.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I need to learn how to cast a Patronus," she said.

"That isn't included in Auror training?" Remus asked, somewhat surprised.

"Of course not," Dora said with a sneer. "The official party line is that the Dementors are perfectly under the control of the Ministry. Why would Aurors need to know how to defend against them if that was true? Even now, after all that's happened this year, they're refusing to teach us but I won't let that stop me from learning. Harry has mentioned quite a few times how brilliant of a teacher you are. He said you taught him how to cast a Patronus charm when he was only in third year."

Remus chewed on his lip and looked at his own two feet.

"I'm afraid I can't help you," Remus said. "You'll have to learn from someone else."

Dora looked at him, eyes hardening. She rolled her eyes.

"I thought it was so very important to you that we be mature about this," she said bitterly before turning away.

Remus chewed on his lip. How was he supposed to admit to her that he'd been having troubles summoning his own Patronus lately?

Your mum's Auror badge

Dora curled against him when she slipped into bed wearing only the t-shirt she'd come home from work in. Remus knew that the day had been long, and probably quite bad, because of how long she had stayed at work overtime. But Remus didn't mention that or ask since he didn't know just how sore the subject was today; he just wrapped an arm around her to see what could be done about pulling her even closer.

He kissed her ear, a strand of lavender hair tickling his nose as he did.

"I'm exhausted," she said in a small, depleted voice.

"We don't have to talk about it," Remus promised quietly.

Dora took a deep breath and covered her eyes with her spare hand. Her breath was shaky.

"I hate it," she said. "I hate working under Death Eaters and pretending that everything is perfectly fine at the Ministry when it's all gone to shit in the absolute worst way. What am I even doing, Remus? What am I?"

"Hey," he whispered, kissing her ear. "You became an Auror because you were, and are, brave and brilliant and unwaveringly dedicated to keeping people safe. You became an Auror because you are fair and hardworking and daring and bold."

He kissed her cheek and her jaw next.

"They're absolutely beautiful parts of you," Remus said. "They're parts of you that you can be proud of."

"Maybe in a different world," Dora said quietly.

"In this world too," Remus said. "You're still extraordinary, Dora. You're still working for the Order behind the scenes. You're mitigating damage from the inside. You're… you're making a new life right now. If that's not putting good into the world to make the future brighter, I don't know what is."

His hands drifted down so that they rested on her middle. Dora wrapped her arms around his to pull him closer and took a deep breath.

Chocolate (your dad liked all kinds of chocolate, but this seemed to be his favourite bar because it was what he had on hand for Dementor attacks)

"Missions just go badly sometimes," Remus said rationally. "This happens."

"Rotten, is what it is," Dedalus muttered under his breath, frustrated. "Just as rotten as those damned Death Eaters."

Before Remus could add more and before she could speak up, he stomped away to some other part of Grimmauld Place. Tonks was also upset about how their stakeout of Malfoy Manor had gone as well, but Dedalus had ten years of aurorship under his belt; he had expected a better outcome without factoring in the very different kind of battle they were fighting. Mad-Eye had warned her about this.

Remus watched Dedalus leave and then turned back to the kitchen, going through the cupboards. Tonks hoisted herself up onto the counter and watched him rummage. She was about to ask him what he was looking for or remind him that Molly had reorganized the pantry and moved the tea to the cupboard closer to the kettle, when he emerged triumphantly with a chocolate bar wrapped in purple in his hand.

He closed the cupboard door and came to lean against the counter next to her. He cracked the chocolate bar into pieces between his hands and then tore open the wrapper. He offered her the first bite.

"What have you got a stash of chocolate hidden in the kitchen for?" she asked, though she couldn't help but smile.

"I said that missions going badly happened sometimes," Remus said. "Not that it was fun. Chocolate is how we cope. Would you like a piece?"

She smiled some more and took one of the squares. He took one and they tapped their squares against one another in the world's smallest toast before indulging.

Their wedding rings

"Where on earth did you find a wedding band on such short notice?" Dora asked. She was already flopped on their bed wearing the t-shirt she'd been sleeping in all week, looking at the ring on her hand and the way it caught in the candlelight. That, as far as her wardrobe went, was a new addition.

"It was my mother's," Remus said as he readjusted the bandage he'd had wrapped around his upper forearm ever since the last full moon. The magically-inflicted wound hadn't quite healed yet; best to keep it covered. "And my grandmother's before that. She left it to me when she died, and wanted to see it passed on."

Dora sat up in bed when he said it and reexamined the five little stones glinting next to each other and the vines carved into the gold band.

"Oh, wow," she said quietly.

Remus secured the bandage on his arm before crossing the room to go sit next to her. He took her hand and looked at the ring himself, as if he hadn't held onto it for years, and then back up at the woman wearing it.

"She was so hopeful when she gave it to me," Remus said. "Even when I told her to keep it, to be buried with it, she insisted that I keep it. I had no idea it would ever actually be worn again, nevermind by someone like you."

"Your mum knew," Dora said.

"Yes, she usually did," Remus said with a grin. He liked to think even she couldn't have expected someone like Dora to stumble into his life, though.

Dora smiled and cupped his cheek with her hand.

"I wish I could've gotten to meet her," she said softly.

"I wish so too," Remus said. He turned his cheek every so slightly so that he could kiss her palm. "She would have loved you."

A Hufflepuff scarf and a Gryffindor hat (because the house rivalry between them was real)

"Oye," Dora said, putting down her book to glare down at the baby bump she was carrying. It was so round now, Remus was mentally preparing himself for her to go into labour anytime. "Calm yourself, down there. Kicking around like that, that's not very kind of you."

"Ah, so you admit that there's a chance that they won't be a Hufflepuff?" Remus spoke up.

Dora swatted at his arm with her book. "I said no such thing!" The baby kicked her again, judging by her wince. "Besides, if it were a Gryffindor wouldn't it be too loyal to all the other organs in there so kick so wantonly?"

Remus laughed and kissed her cheek.

Tickets to a Weird Sisters concert they attended together

Remus had barely recovered from his wife's shout when she launched himself towards him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. Thankfully, he didn't stumble back; he just laughed and held onto her tightly.

"How did you even get these?" she asked without letting go of the pair of tickets she'd unwrapped or of him.

Since she couldn't see his face, Remus didn't even bother to hide the massive smile stretching across his cheeks.

"It doesn't matter," he said.

"Yes it does, of course it does, this tour's been sold out for weeks," Dora said, pulling back. Not to mention the fact that even if there were tickets left, Remus was as likely to sprout wings as he was to be able to afford them.

"Let's just say that the lead guitarist was very terrible at charms when we were in school together and owed me a few favours for passing his NEWTS," Remus said.

Her jaw dropped. She was wearing her hair longer today so a piece of copper hair fell in front of her face but she didn't even acknowledge it.

"You went to school with Malcolm Harveston and you never told me?" she asked, her voice rising with disbelief.

Remus smiled.

"I thought I would save that revelation for a special occasion," Remus said, leaning in to kiss her. "He told me to wish my wife a happy birthday for him."

Dora shrieked.

Your dad's lunascope

"What are you doing up so late?" Remus asked quietly as he slipped out of their bedroom to join her at the dining room table. She hadn't even heard the door creaking open and the moon charts were spread out in front of her already, so there was no real use in lying.

"I was trying to read the moon charts just right to see what the full moon would be like in April," Tonks explained, resting a hand on the baby who was starting to kick. She could swear that he recognized Remus' voice, the little bugger. "I just… I wanted to see…"

"What the moon, and therefore your husband, would be up to on your due date," Remus said, filling in the blanks. Tonks nodded, swallowing hard.

"I should send Professor Sinistra an apology," Tonks said. "I never thought there'd be a compelling real-life application for Astronomy. I was always rubbish at it."

"Me too," Remus said. He squeezed her shoulder and walked over to their bookshelf, opening a wooden box they used for trinkets and removing a bronze object that looked like a telescope surrounded by elegant engravings, copper rings, and various dials to readjust its lenses.

He brought it back to her.

"You can use my lunascope next time, if you're curious," Remus said. He kissed the top of her head. "Although I can tell you already that that baby is supposed to come on the new moon."

She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

10. A receipt from the night they got married

The band at the inn had been rowdy and lively all night, playing upbeat music that was easy to dance to with catchy lyrics that were easy to shout. Remus wasn't sure if that was the typical mood of The Grindylow Lodge or if a spontaneous wedding and the bartender's subsequent announcement that the next round was on him had helped. Either way; Remus had been happy to get lost in the energy of the bar and to let the ale loosen up the nerves that usually overtook him when he was in a crowd. He was thankful now, however, that the music had slowed so that he and Dora could just hold onto each other, gently swaying, and call it dancing.

She leaned her head back to look up at him, her smile radiant. Her hair was held back in a dark purple ponytail and on her way in, she had transfigured her clothes into a short, no-nonsense white dress that clashed horribly with her dragonhide boots—but nobody cared.

Remus smiled back down at her and leaned down to kiss her again. There had been a lot of that this evening and he couldn't believe that there would be more of it for the rest of his life.

"Is this how you thought your wedding would go?" she asked him.

"I didn't think I'd have any wedding to go any which way," Remus said. "And you, love?"

"It was perfect," she said with a smile. "I kind of wish there was cake, though."

Remus chuckled.

"We can make that happen," Remus said. "I think I saw a little diner down the street that said it was open 24/7..."

"That sounds promising," Dora said. "Do you think they'll have something with chocolate?"

"They better have something with chocolate," Remus said. He kissed her again. "Let's go check."

11. The Marauder's Map

Tonks was leaning over the kitchen table, her jaw dropped as she watched the map that Harry had spread out before her. She looked up to Harry, shocked, and then turned to look at Remus, mouth still hanging open and eyes wide.

"You made this?" she asked, shocked.

"Well, not just me," Remus said.

"He had help!" Sirius called from further in the kitchen, where he was making tea.

"You were barely any help," Remus called back.

"Oh, excuse me? Who happened to know all the deepest, darkest parts of the castle?" Sirius asked. "I always said that it'd come in handy that I…"

"Don't finish that sentence Sirius, Harry's here," Remus said—which made Harry blush.

Tonks pulled the map closer and studied the layout, the scale, the degree of detail across the parchment…

"This is incredible," Tonks said. "Magical artefacts like this… Merlin, Harry, no wonder you get in so little yet so much trouble. But on a larger scale, these could be incredibly useful."

"I don't know that we'd be able to recreate it," Remus said, turning to look at Sirius. "We didn't write down what we were doing or the steps that we were doing it in, either."

"Still," Tonks said, very seriously, forcing Remus to hold her gaze. "You're incredible for having made it."

He blushed and looked away.

The map you should keep with you when you're going off to Hogwarts. It was confiscated from our dads, who made it with their friends, when they were in seventh year. Fred and George Weasley, who'd stolen it back, gave it to me when I was in third year and I've held onto it since. I think it'll be more useful with you from now on—but don't let it fall in the wrong hands and don't get caught using it or Filch may destroy it for real this time.

You'll want to tap your wand against the parchment and whisper the words 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good' to use it. You'll do the same thing but promise 'mischief managed' to the map when you're ready to close it again.

If I were you, I would open the map for the first time somewhere private. You see, it's quite polite and it introduces itself when it's opened. It was never enough to conjure my father for me, but it was something. And, after all, that's all I can give you.

That and all my love,

Harry

WC: 3920