Ginny clung to Lupin desperately, knowing that tomorrow, they would go their separate ways and she would never know him again in an intimate way. He would return to being a mentor, a father-figure – at least, the best he could, given what had gone on between them. Deep down, she knew they wouldn't be able to return to their former relationship, and because of that, he would keep his distance from her.
So all they had was tonight. They were back at the Edge of the World, where it had all begun, and tomorrow they would return to London... separately.
Lupin stroked her hair lovingly, the silky red strands flowing through his fingers. "Don't cry," he pleaded. "Please, don't cry. I don't want to remember you crying."
Ginny nodded. "I'm sorry. I just wish this could last."
"Me, too." It had been a wonderful six weeks, the happiest he could remember in years, even with his ongoing feeling of guilt about getting further and further involved in an emotional affair. Happier, he knew deep down, then he had been since the early weeks of his marriage, since before he had found out about the pregnancy and his fears had gotten the better of him.
And now, five years later, he had found happiness again, and he knew he had to give it up. There was no way they could carry on their affair back in England. He couldn't have her with him at Hogwarts – Neville had already tried, and if McGonagall wasn't going to let an unmarried man have his girlfriend of several years and more-or-less the same age stay over, then Lupin wasn't about to dare asking for the same privileges for his mistress young enough to be his daughter, and that was even if he was willing to bring that kind of publicity to their relationship, which he categorically was not. Which brought them to another issues – they were too well known for them to be seen together in England. In the darker magical communities of Eastern Europe, they had enough anonymity – even with his reputation as a possessive werewolf and brilliant DADA instructor – and could go out together, living openly as a couple, but they had no hope of doing that in England. Too many people were aware of his affair with Sarah Callahan for them not to start asking questions if he was seen with an attractive young woman, who had been a former student of his to boot.
No, it had to end. But knowing that didn't make it any easier.
So he was grateful that Ginny repressed any clinginess and did her best to act like it was just another night for them – it made it easier for him to do the same. They exhausted each other with their lovemaking until the early hours of the morning – or, rather, he exhausted her until she fell into a deep sleep.
He didn't want to wake up next to her. He had a feeling that if he did, he would never leave.
Ginny woke up a few hours later, stretched as her consciousness sharpened into wakefulness, and turned to greet her lover.
He was gone. He had left a note on the pillow.
Ginny, my love,
Please forgive me, but I thought I would be lost if i woke up next to you again. You won't have any trouble leaving – I've made it clear that you are under my protection. I'd appreciate it if you sent me an owl to let me know that you got home safe, but please, for the love of God, please be discreet.
These last six weeks have been some of the happiest of my life and I will always cherish them, but we both need to get on with our lives. Please try and forget me.
Remus.
She crumpled the note and fought back the tears. He had left her. It was over.
"Daddy!" Teddy cried, running up to his father as fast as his four-and-a-half-year-old legs would carry him.
Lupin hoisted Teddy up onto his hip with ease. "How's my boy?" he asked jovially. He'd enjoyed himself over the summer, he always had, and he'd had a blissful few weeks with Ginny, but there was nothing on this earth that could make him stop missing his son when Teddy wasn't with him.
Teddy squirmed delightedly against his father's side. "Good," he trilled. He wrapped his little arms around Lupin's neck and buried his head in his father's shoulder. The one word spoke volumes between father and son.
Andromeda gave them a few moments alone before she entered the front room. "Remus," she said, something akin to genuine warmth in her cordial tone. "You look good. Teddy, can you please go to your room for a few minutes? I need to speak to your father alone."
Teddy obediently wriggled out of his father's hold and tottered off to his room. "Am I in trouble?" Lupin asked, thinking that his affair with Ginny was written all over his face. "Are you suing for custody again?"
Andromeda laughed. "Oh, I gave up on that ages ago," she said, although they both knew that should the opportunity arise, she wouldn't hesitate to try again. But the passing years had made Lupin more and more popular, and no-one but the most narrow-minded bigots could deny his ability as a father and his love for his son – not even Andromeda. And even Andromeda had had to concede that he'd been gracious in maintaining their custody arrangement even after the Wolfsbane breakthrough kept him human all month. So she had let it go and consoled herself with the fact that she saw her grandchild more often than most grandparents did. "It's not about you, Remus. Let's go into the dining room and have a drink."
Lupin followed his mother-in-law into the tastefully decorated living room where two glasses of firewhisky were already on the time. This must be bad, Lupin thought. He down his glass quickly. "OK, what is it?" he asked, thinking that whatever it was, there was no point in dragging it out.
"Frank and Alice are dead," Andromeda said flatly.
Lupin was glad that the firewhisky had started to do his work. For a second he sat in stunned silence. Frank and Alice. They had been his age, in his year, although because of his self-imposed isolation growing up he hadn't know either very well before the Order had first been formed. But they had been amazing, strong people with fierce senses of loyalty and integrity. Then, "When?" he asked.
"A few weeks ago. They just... went," she said as a way of answering his next question – how? "I guess I need to backtrack a little. You know how unsure Neville was about commitment?" she asked. Lupin nodded; he knew better than most, being a colleague and quasi-father-figure of Neville Longbottom, how scared he was of committing to marriage and children, regardless of how much he loved Luna. He knew from bitter, lonely personal experience that the war simply being over didn't mean the end of the casualties and he didn't want to put a wife or children through what he had gone through – what Lupin was going through. "Well, at some point I guess he realised that he could fret about it forever and let the opportunity slip through his fingers or he could take the chance."
"Wait – so Neville finally proposed?" Lupin asked, already knowing the answer. "Oh, thankgod. I didn't know how else I could blather on about the joys of fatherhood without being obvious."
Andromeda gave a small laugh. "Augusta never let up about how jealous she was of me, having a grandchild that I saw so often," she said. "I think between your blathering and her guilting, the two of you really made him think about what he was missing. Anyway, so he proposed, and she accepted, and he told his parents about it. We don't know exactly when they went but I checked on them myself about half an hour after he had left and... they were gone. It was spooky," she said softly, rubbing her hands lightly over her arms. "It was like they knew he had someone who loved him and who he'd create a new family with and they could go."
Lupin suddenly felt very guilty. Andromeda didn't know about his affair with Ginny – if she did, she would be screaming at him already, if she hadn't moved altogether and taken Teddy with her – so it wasn't aimed at him, but he still felt very guilty. The timing of Frank and Alice's deaths was spooky; had they indeed held on for all those years just to know that their son had found someone to love and start a new family with? Was the subconsciousness and understanding of vegetative patients greater than they had understood? Would Tonks know that he had fallen for someone else the next time he went to see her? "Andy – I – "
She waved his words away, and he could see the tears threatening in her eyes. "I know it's not the same with Dora," she said. "Or if it is, it will be twenty years before Teddy's old enough. It just makes me think – "
"I want her to understand what I'm saying to her, too," Lupin said. "Well, maybe not when I was confessing about Sarah," he added ruefully. Realising they were heading into dangerous territory, he steered onto a safer topic. "When's the wedding?" he asked.
"A month. I think Tess and Charlie have already been accepted. Good work on Junior, by the way. I'm sorry I didn't do it myself."
"You had your chance, you told him to get out," Lupin couldn't resist gloating.
Andromeda actually looked embarrassed by that. "I should have killed him when I had the chance," she admitted. "I'm glad he's dead. I only wish you'd gotten to hurt him the way he hurt Tess."
Lupin grinned at that, reading between the lines and realising what Andromeda was loathe to admit. "You actually like Tess, don't you?" he asked.
Andromeda gave him a pointed look, and Lupin knew better than to push the gloating too far when it came to his mother-in-law. "They're good for each other," she conceded, by implication meaning in a way that Charlie and Tonks had never been. "And if I couldn't have Charlie for a son-in-law, then uncle for Teddy will do. God knows, that boy needs someone with a sense of balance on a broom to look up to," she couldn't resist jabbing. Lupin poked his tongue out at her good-naturedly. Werewolves had an uncommonly good sense of balance on two feet and an uncommonly bad sense of balance in the air, and Tonks, well, Tonks had been clumsy with two feel on the floor as it was.
He ended up having dinner with Andromeda and staying the night before he took Teddy and left for Hogwarts in the morning. He was greeted warmly by his colleagues and left a message with Neville to stop by for a drink after dinner if he wanted to. It was still the last days of summer holidays, and there was nothing wrong with the two of them getting happily drunk if they wanted to.
Neville came by with impeccable timing, just as he had put Teddy to sleep. "I hear congratulations are in order," Lupin greeted the younger man with. "And I heard about you loss. I'm so sorry."
Neville gave a small smile of gratitude. "Coming from you, that means a lot," he said. "People either think that it's a sudden loss or that it was so long ago that I must hardly care anymore." Lupin nodded understandingly. When the centre of your universe was in a coma, or barely able to feed themselves, and it went on for years – in Neville's case, decades – there came a point when you could only grieve so intensely for so long. There came a point where your grieving dulled a little and while you still cared deeply about them, you had to get on with your life. But that didn't mean you didn't care when you did lose them. Lupin knew that if his wife were to die tomorrow, despite her being in a vegetative state for over four years, despite him falling for another woman, it would still devastate him.
So he could understand what Neville was talking about – a loss like that was neither the immediate loss as if a loved one had been fully alive one minute and dead the next, but nor was it as if they had died all those years ago when first struck down.
He invited Neville to sit down and listened patiently as Neville alternated between talking about his upcoming wedding and talking about growing up and what little he had known of his parents. "You know, when I first met you – Harry called it a hero-crush," Neville admitted as the hours went by. "I wanted you to be my dad so bad, and then of course I felt so guilty about it."
Lupin smiled wanly. He knew that feeling only too well; it was how he felt about Tonks when he was with Ginny. He hadn't been to see his wife yet; he had no idea what he was supposed to say. "I saw a lot of me in you," he admitted. "Very talented, but... crippled by feelings of inadequacy. Harry never had that. He was so like James and Sirius it was ridiculous."
Neville looked flustered but clearly pleased. "I was wondering if you would be my best man," he blurted out.
"Er – thanks – but what about Harry or Ron?" Lupin asked, flattered but a little overwhelmed by the request. He was very fond of Neville, often thought of him as a quasi-son, but best man honours were something you tended to give to a close friend, not a colleague who had been in the same year as your parents.
"Ummm... because it involves a lot of work with the maid of honour – I love Luna, I wouldn't be marrying her if I didn't, but there's no way she can organise a wedding without Ginny to keep her on track – and things haven't quite been the same between Ginny and Harry since they broke up. After all that crushing she did on him for most of school, she realised it wasn't meant to be fast quicker than he did – and things would run a lot more smoothly if she were working with you, not Harry. Or even Ron," he added ruefully, because oddly, Ron was the most protective, even judgemental of Ginny's actions, and therefor the quickest to quarrel with her.
"Ginny's maid of honour?" Lupin asked dumbly. But of course; despite their different personalities, Ginny and Luna had been close friends since first year.
Lupin cocked his head. "Who else? She's far closer to Ginny then Hermione... and I don't think Hermione could tolerate Luna for an entire wedding's preparation. And it's not just for practical reasons, Remus. I'm closer to you then I am Ron and Harry, you know me better than them. I know it's not exactly conventional, but, well, I think convention went out the window when I started seeing her, let alone tried to organise a wedding with her."
"I – uh – I – " Lupin fumbled for an excuse to turn down Neville's offer, made even the harder for the fact that it had been made in sincerity, even adoration. But there was no way he could undertake such a task with Ginny. If he was alone with her, and doing something so sentimental and romantic as helping to organise a wedding, they were likely to end up in the nearest bed... or on the floor... or in a storage closet, like he had with Tonks had finally ground him down and he'd agreed to get involved with her. "I – I'm not good with weddings," he admitted. "I can handle being a guest, but more than that... I didn't have a proper wedding – I mean, I was properly married but it was a quick Ministry thing – and getting involved with stuff like that makes me feel guilty. It's one more thing that I should have given her, and I didn't."
Neville looked chastened and apologetic. "I'm sorry, I didn't think," he said. "Of course, I understand. You don't even have to come if you don't want to."
"Neville, of course I want to come," Lupin said, feeling guilty because he was only turning down the honour because he knew he wouldn't be able to keep it in his pants if he was alone with Ginny. "I just think even Ron squabbling with Ginny or Harry mooning over her will make a better best man then me feeling guilty."
"I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to say to you," Lupin admitted to Tonks. "Especially now that I don't know how much of it you're actually processing. I would never have told you about Sarah – not that she meant anything to me, even at the time. I wish – I wish it was like things used to be. No, that's wrong. I wish I knew then what I know now... I wish I had known then how much you meant to me, how much you deserved from me, how much I should have given you." He took his wife's hand and clenched it in his own. It was remarkable, how she looked so like she had been since she had been struck down. She was closer to thirty than twenty-five now, and that showed a little in her face, but you wouldn't believe that over four years had gone by.
Four years of loneliness not really penetrated by the use of prostitutes, until Ginny had come along, and now he felt insanely guilty... even more so because he couldn't forget about Ginny.
But he vowed that if Tonks would wake up, he would do his best to try. And that meant returning to a celibate life in honour of his marriage vows.
Almost-five-year-old Teddy Lupin expertly disarmed the basic spell that was cast around the children's area and, two-and-a-half-year-old Victorie Weasley in hand, they trotted out into the wider area. "Aren't you going to do anything?" Percy, by-the-book as always, asked incredulously to his brother.
Bill waved dismissively. "Nah. He only tries harder then, and besides, he's very protective of her. I trust them together. Besides, they can't go anywhere. And he'll get bored once he's explored everywhere and bring Victorie back."
"You don't worry they might fall over something?" Percy asked.
Charlie laughed at that. "You clearly don't know Teddy. He's got a phenomenal sense of danger – and of balance. I've never seen him trip. Ever. If I didn't know that it couldn't possibly be a genetic thing, I would have sworn that he gets it from Remus." But everyone knew that a werewolf's sense of balance was part of their cursed physiology, and not something that they could pass onto their offspring.
Augusta Longbottom laughed at that. "I guess you don't remember this, Remus, but you were a phenomenal flyer for your age – maybe even better than James Potter. At least, John thought so. I often thought that was what he was most sore over."
"Because that just made my opinion of him skyrocket," Lupin said dryly. While he had to concede that his father had done more than most parents would have done to find their child had become a werewolf, Lupin had learnt early on that the reason his parents had chosen to raise him as human had been entirely at his mother's insistence. So it didn't surprise him that his father had been disappointed that his son wasn't going to be a world-class Quidditch player when his lycanthropy screwed with his sense of balance on a broomstick. "But at least it explains where Teddy gets it from." He watched his son across the room, who was engrossed with Victorie, despite the fact that she was over two years younger than him – a veritable Grand Canyon for their young ages.
"I don't think you could be a prouder father," Charlie commented.
"Jealous, much?" Lupin teased.
"Why would I be?" Charlie asked. "I get this crazy-talented kid who I can be uncle to and hand back when he starts to be trouble." He ran his fingers lightly up and down Tess arm and shared a look with her that told everyone they were of the same opinion when it came to Teddy. Tess gave her husband a look that made Lupin's heart lurch. Ginny used to look at him like that.
Bill groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, the two of you, go dance or something," he directed his brother and sister-in-law. Charlie and Tess went as the band struck up a jazzy number. "I blame you for this, Remus," Bill said. "They've been more disgustingly in love than ever since that episode with Junior."
"That's not funny," Lupin nearly snarled, thinking more about how Junior had attacked Ginny than the fact that he had attacked Tess.
"Sorry," Bill said contritely. He had momentarily forgotten how protective Lupin was of Tess.
Lupin had tuned out, and Bill let it go, knowing from experience that it was best to leave Lupin be when his temper was provoked like that – especially when it came to Tess. But he was actually watching Tess and Charlie, the way he had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other playing with her hair. They looked so in love, even after five years, and it was so easy to think of Ginny and how she didn't care any more about his lycanthropy then Charlie did of Tess's...
There was a flash of red and blue, and without realising, Lupin had focused his attention on Ginny and her cobalt-blue bridesmaid dress. She didn't look very comfortable, dancing with best man Harry; Lupin remembered how she would mould her body into his and just couldn't imagine her doing that with Harry.
An image of Harry holding Ginny the way he once had made him want to launch himself across the dance floor and physically separate the exes.
"Ginny? You OK? You seemed to tune out for a second there," Harry commented as casually as he could, because Ginny seemed mighty distracted, and he didn't like Ginny being distracted when she was in his arms, even if it was just on a dance floor for a wedding where they were both part of the bridal party.
"Fine," Ginny said, forcing herself to snap back to the here and now. It wasn't that she minded dancing with Harry exactly, except she was aware that he had failed to see their imminent break-up in the way that she had. She had been apprehensive about being maid of honour to Harry's best man – but given that Neville had wanted Lupin as his best man, perhaps that was for the best.
Remus. Her heart had lurched to see him. And with Andromeda, too – she had known that they accompanied each other to these sorts of thing – 'dates' was too intimate a term for it – but seeing him with his mother-in-law brought home that he was married more than anything else had.
And yet, she couldn't stop looking at him, trying to steal glances that no-one else would notice. She kept thinking about how it felt in his arms, when he kissed her, the way he could make her laugh and think and feel safe in his arms even after she had been attacked by a werewolf...
"Gin? Hullooo?" Harry said softly, trying to sound casual but starting to get a little irritated that she kept spacing out on him.
Ginny snapped back. "Sorry, Harry," she said, smiling as brightly as she could manage when her thoughts were so full of her former lover. "I've just... never been this involved with a wedding before."
"You ever thought about getting married yourself?" Harry asked.
Every day for six weeks, Ginny thought – and since then, she had to admit. Even though she had known he was married, even though she had known that he would never get an annulment even if he could. "Not really," she said non-commitally. "I'm only twenty-one and I haven't met the right person yet."
"You and I had something pretty special, didn't we?" Harry said.
"We were children," Ginny deflected. "What we wanted then and what we need now are two different things." She had just been a girl, Harry had just been a boy... she stole another glance at Lupin and she wished it was him that she was dancing with. Needed him, she amended according to what she had told Harry. She couldn't imagine being with anyone but him, she couldn't get over him, she couldn't forget him, no matter what he had asked of her.
Harry chuckled good-naturedly to mask the fact that he was a little hurt by her casual deflection. For someone who had had a crush on him for most of school, she had gotten over him pretty quickly. "You make it sound like we were Teddy and Victorie," he joked. "We were both adults. It wasn't that bad, was it?"
She smiled at him, more genuinely this time, because it was a smile of nostalgia. "It was good, Harry," she told him, and it had been, if only because they had been good friends, and still were, when Harry wasn't in one of his own moods.
Harry smiled at her, and went in to kiss her. Ginny pushed him away. "I didn't mean it like that!" she said.
"Why? Are you seeing someone?" Harry asked.
"No, but that doesn't mean I'm looking," Ginny said, taking a step away.
"Oh, come on, Gin, I didn't mean to offend you," Harry said, realising he had gone too far and misread the situation. He took a step towards her, hoping to have her back in his arms.
"Something wrong here?" Lupin asked, stealthily at Ginny's side, wedging himself seamlessly between the couple. He had seen the tension between the couple with his superhuman ability to read body language and hadn't been able to help himself; he'd mumbled an explanation about stretching his legs and gone to intervene in case Harry was getting a bit aggressive after a few drinks.
"Harry just... stepped on my foot," Ginny said lamely.
Lupin knew she was lying. Nonetheless, he laughed good-naturedly rather than make a scene. "Harry, you're the exact opposite of me, you know that. Dead clumsy on your feet and brilliant in the air. Why don't I show you how it's done?" he suggested pleasantly, holding out his hand to Ginny. "Miss Weasley?" he asked politely. Harry could do nothing without making a scene while Ginny accepted Lupin's hand – and he was forced to concede that the man was far more graceful than him. At least on his feet, Harry added silently.
"What was that about?" he asked in a low voice so only Ginny could hear. He was grateful that the dresses Luna had chosen – blue for Ginny, bronze for Hermione – were strapless but high-backed, unlike the strappy, backless dresses that were fashionable at the moment. Such a dress would have made it very difficult for Lupin to put his arms around her waist and back without touching either bare skin or moving his hands low enough to be on her ass.
"He was nostalgic. He tried to kiss me," Ginny said.
"I could see that."
There was a tone in his voice that commanded her immediate attention. "Don't tell me you're jealous," she half-teased, half said in earnestness.
"Of him? I doubt it. You just pushed him away, remember?" he couldn't resist reminding Ginny, even though it was treading on dangerous territory.
Ginny couldn't help but glow at this. It felt so right to be in Lupin's arms, even though he was holding her very properly and not at all like her brothers held their wives – especially Charlie with Tess. Blind Freddy could see that those two were deeply in love even after five years of marriage and had eyes only for each other. "Tess looks happy," Ginny murmured after a few minutes, a touch enviously.
"You should have seen her after Junior attacked her," Lupin said dryly. "But for all he hurt her, I think it finally made her realise that Charlie was crazy about her and wasn't going anywhere."
"Guess Junior forced a lot of feelings to the surface," Ginny couldn't resist digging.
Lupin's arms went tense around her, and she knew she had hit close to him – too close. "Don't, Ginny," he pleaded. "Please, don't."
"Don't what?" she asked with false innocence.
"Don't... remind me... of us," he whispered painfully. "I didn't end it because I wanted to."
The tone of his voice said far more than his words – which were powerful enough as they were. "Remus," she said softly, alluringly. She tilted her head so she was staring directly into his eyes. And she saw in them that he had intervened between her and Harry because he had been jealous, and her heart soared at knowing that.
The song came to an end and he pushed her away as politely as he could. "Thankyou for the dance," he said stiffly, politely. "I enjoyed it." And with that, he made his swift exit, leaving a dumbfounded Ginny staring after him.
He still had feelings for her – she knew it. He wouldn't have admonished her for bringing up their affair, he wouldn't have looked at her the way he had, he wouldn't even have approached her if he didn't.
She could still feel the heat of his skin through her dress. She could so easily imagine him kissing her, holding her in a way that only a lover – and not just a dance partner – would. And she knew that he was thinking the same about her. She knew he was looking at her, despite the fact he tried not to.
"Remus, are you OK?" Tess asked him shortly after, sensing his distractedness.
He smiled as genuinely as he could manage. "I'm fine," he said. "Weddings just make me feel a bit flat. Reminds me of everything I should have given Dora."
"Remus, I'm so sorry." She threaded her fingers through his in a comforting fashion. "I wish I could do something for you. I feel guilty that Charlie and I are so happy," she admitted.
This time he did smile genuinely. "Don't feel guilty, Tess. It makes me feel good to see you so happy with him. It makes me feel good to know that at least one of managed to get it right."
Tess hugged him, and didn't realise that he subtly shifted her to get a clearer view of Ginny.
Ginny watched Lupin throughout the evening, determined to catch him alone. She eventually got her opportunity and cornered him in a corridor that was momentarily empty and quickly cast a concealing spell around them so to anyone who might pass by, there would only be an empty corner, utterly uninteresting. "You've been watching me all night," she informed him.
"I have not."
"Don't lie to me, Remus. I shared your life for three months and your bed for six weeks. I know you better than that." I know the way your eyes dart around nervously when you're lying. I know the way you shift your weight onto the balls of your feet. I know the way you try to look defensive – like that, she thought. "You've been looking at me all night – because you want me," she said triumphantly.
Lupin realised that there was no point in denying it. He never would have intervened between her and Harry – would never have noticed a situation that maybe-didn't-even need intervening with in the first place – if he hadn't been watching her all night... if he didn't still care very much about her. "So what if I have?" he challenged.
"So what if you have?" Ginny asked. "You're kidding me. You don't think it doesn't mean anything that you're still hot for me. You still care about me," she prompted him.
He didn't bother denying that, either. "You were my world for six weeks," he admitted, and her heart soared at that, despite the sadness and bitterness in his voice at the admission. "I couldn't feel the way I did about you... and just switch those feelings off. But Ginny – Miss Weasley – I stopped it for a reason. We can't carry on here. It won't – "
He was cut off by Ginny throwing herself into his arms, kissing him passionately, and despite himself, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back. Oh, sweet Merlin, she felt so good – as good as she had a month ago – maybe even better after a month without her. He had never been so attracted to a woman – not even his own wife. Despite himself, he picked her up and pushed her against the wall, thrusting his pelvis against hers as she wrapped her legs around his waist and she could feel himself hardening against her thigh...
He pulled away and looked wildly at her. "No," he protested weakly. "We can't."
"We can. We can be discreet. You can't tell me you don't want me."
"No," he said flatly. "I can't." And so Ginny launched himself at him again, and once more, he found himself unable to resist and they were making out against a dark corridor wall and she was pulling at his hair and scratching at his neck the way he liked so much. "Ginny," he groaned, burying his face in her shoulder. "Ginny, we can't," he protested, and he knew how weak his words sounded even to him and he knew that if he didn't compromise with her then he would screw her up against the wall, to hell with the consequences. And it was only a matter of minutes before people started wondering where they were and Ginny's concealing spell wouldn't hold up against the talents of much more powerful witches and wizards on an active search for them. "Ginny, slow down," he grunted. "I'll do you a deal. You stop now and I'll come by your flat after I'm done." If they were going to give into their feelings for one another – and deep down, he had always known that it was only a matter of time – then better it be in the privacy of her flat and dignity of her bed than against a wall at a highly-populated wedding.
She looked at him, torn between hope and suspicion. "You promise?" she asked suspiciously. "You're not just trying to get rid of me?"
As if. Ginny was perfectly capable of taking her anger out on him at Hogwarts if he tried to fob her off with such a transparent attempt to get rid of her. "I'm not trying to get rid of you. I just want to go about this in a more tasteful manner. OK?" She nodded. "Now, listen to me. It's Andy's weekend for Teddy so I can't leave until she does, or she'll get suspicious about why I don't want to spend all the time I can with him. But I promise, I'll come over after that, OK?" she nodded, and he leaned in to kiss her chastely.
When she lowered the concealing spell he walked away from her to rejoin the wedding celebration and not raise suspicions about his absence. He knew as he walked away that there was no turning back now, and that he didn't want to.
It was two in the morning. The wedding reception had closed at midnight, and Harry had insisted on the four of them – him, Ginny, Ron and Hermione – touring the all-night taverns of Knockturn Alley. Ginny just wanted to go home – not only because the seedier side of the magical community that was all-nightlife (which she had seen plenty of as Lupin's companion, and felt much safer in much riskier situations) but because she knew that if Lupin came by her flat and she wasn't there, he would leave and not come back... and she couldn't exactly go charging off to Hogwarts to give him a piece of her mind when she was the one who hadn't help up her end of the bargain.
That, and she didn't like being in this cosy foursome nearly as much as she had in the past. She still adored Ron and Hermione, and liked Harry when he wasn't in one of his nostalgic moods, but those days when they were two couples double-dating were long gone.
Harry seemed oblivious to Ginny's reluctance to traipse around Knockturn Alley, enjoying every moment of the seedier side of England's magical community. Ginny kept wanting to tell Harry that she had seen far more when travelling around Eastern Europe with Lupin, but held her tongue.
Eventually, it was Ron who intervened. "Give it up, mate," he told his best friend.
Harry tried to look innocent. "Give what up?" he asked.
"This double-date thing you're trying to do. It's not working. Ginny's obviously not interested. Look, you know that I liked you guys together – well, more than anyone else," he amended, because he had easily been the loudest opponent of the six of them to Ginny being with anyone. "And I'd love it if you guys got together. But right now – she's not interested. And dragging her around the place trying to rekindle the romance is doing the exact opposite."
Harry was forced to see Ron's point-of-view and didn't protest when Ron suggested calling it a night – although it was hardly night anymore, it was past two in the morning. Ginny was sure Lupin had come and gone by now, but she still didn't want to be traipsing around Knockturn Alley in the early hours of the morning. She wanted to be in her warm, comfortable bed and feel sorry for herself that this opportunity had slipped through her fingers because of stupid Harry and his misplaced determination to get back together with her.
She got the Floo back to her flat and felt momentarily calmed. It had been Bill's idea that she get a place of her own, away for all her protective older brothers who couldn't see her as the adult she had become. She smiled at the memory. Bill – and then Charlie – had always been the most understanding and farsighted when it came to their kid sister; certainly more than Ron or even the twins (now, sadly, just George) were. It was small, but suited her needs – clean, airy, with all the magical conveniences. Coming home to her own place always made her feel calmer.
And then she remembered that Lupin had meant to come over and had no doubt come and left and her heart deflated. Nothing I can do about it now, she thought sadly. It wasn't like she could go and confront him at Hogwarts when she had been the one to break their agreement; hell, it wasn't like she would have gone and confronted him at Hogwarts anyway.
Yawning, she headed towards her bedroom, and stopped dead in the doorway. Even in the darkness, she could see Lupin asleep in her bed, curled up on his side, his face buried in her pillow. Her heart leapt and she smiled at the image of her lover – her lover – curled asleep, taking comfort from the pillow that smelled of her. She knew that was why he had done it because she would have done the same thing were the situation reversed. He hadn't left. He had stayed for her. For all his apprehensions about getting involved with her, he had stayed. Ginny wondered if this meant he really loved her, or merely cared deeply about her... with an red-hot attraction between them, to boot.
It didn't matter. She quickly changed into her pyjamas and crawled into bed beside him, positioning herself so he was spooning her.
Asleep but still sensing Ginny's presence, Lupin snaked his arm around her waist and nuzzled her neck. "Gin," he murmured sleepily. He wriggled against her to savour the feeling of her. Ginny smiled radiantly at that, although of course Lupin couldn't see that. But it meant more than she could possibly express that he had not only stayed, falling asleep waiting for her, but that he sensed her even in his sleep and cuddled up to her. She had always known that they had a connection that was more than purely sexual, she had never had such touching proof.
Ginny woke up late Saturday morning to the smell of breakfast cooking. Wrapping herself up in her robe, she padded into the kitchen. She was greeted by the sight of Lupin cooking up a storm. "Thought you could do with something greasy," he offered. "You smelt like Knockturn Alley."
Ginny made a face. "Don't remind me. Ha – er, a few of us went out after and I couldn't think of a good reason to say no."
Lupin smiled sardonically. "You don't have to refrain by speaking about Harry in front of me, love," he said. "I know it's over between you two." He flashed her a conspiring smile. "I saw last night, remember?"
She frowned sourly. "I wish he would work that out," she complained.
"You're a difficult woman to get over, Gin," Lupin said softly. "I can't just him too harshly for that."
She walked over him and tentatively put her hand on his arm, half-afraid that she had imagined his presence. "I'm glad you stayed," she said shyly.
"I didn't intend to," he admitted. "I thought I'd just wait a few minutes and ended up falling asleep. Your pillow smelled of you," he said. He leaned in to kiss her forehead chastely, awkwardly. "We need to talk," he said. "But eat, first. I may be a Dark Creature, but I still provide for my girl."
Ginny sat down to a mountain of delicious food and guiltily remembered her own assumptions that werewolves couldn't cook to save their lives. It was true that Lupin would eat his steak raw if he could get away with it – he ate it extremely rare at public mealtimes – but at everything else he could surpass one of Hogwart's kitchen elves. "Sorry, it's not much," he apologised. "I'm spoilt for working at Hogwarts, I have access to any ingredient I want. Hell, I think Kreacher wants me to come up with something exotic so he can demonstrate his loyalty to Hogwarts and go ferret out ingredients from the ends of the earth."
Ginny laughed at that; it was a spot-on assessment of the formerly surly, ungrateful house-elf that had been indentured to Sirius and then Harry. "It's not that it's not enough," she said, "it is – it's plenty – in fact, I don't know how I'm going to keep up with you, since your metabolism is so much faster than mine so you can afford to pack away more. I just... thought it was nice to have you make me breakfast."
"You're going to get sick of me making you food," Lupin predicted, and she knew that by ommitance he meant that eating in would be all they would be doing. But she didn't care.
They finished breakfast and Lupin set a self-cleaning charm on the dishes before he and Ginny settled down on the couch to talk. "We can't go out together – ever," he informed her. "We had six weeks together where we could go out in public and no-one cared – because no-one knew who we were. We won't have that luxury here. I can't even have you at Hogwarts. Minerva wouldn't even let Neville have Luna, do you really think having you stay with me is going to go down at all?"
"Of course not," Ginny said, although she hadn't actually thought about it at all. But Lupin had a point; they could only be together in her flat. But she didn't care.
"And I can only see you every second weekend – when Andy has Teddy," Lupin added, and Ginny's heart sank a little, because it was something else that she hadn't thought about, but of course made perfect sense. He could hardly bring his five-year-old son to their liaisons. Nor could he give Teddy to Andromeda every weekend – even if he wanted to, which Ginny knew he never would – because his mother-in-law would immediately become suspicions that he was suddenly giving up something they both coveted beyond anything else. Their relationship would be strictly limited to every second weekend in her flat – and only her flat.
She decided she didn't care.
"I can handle that," she said. "I had some idea that that was what it would be like. I don't care, Remus."
"You will," he warned her. "You're going to care when you want a boyfriend who'll accompany you to parties and you can have a drink with in Hogsmead. You're going to care when you see Luna and Neville together, and Ron and Hermione, and want the same thing. You're going to care about a lot of things eventually."
She couldn't imagine caring enough that she preferred to life without him than life with him in such a limited capacity. "Why did you come here if you're only going to try and talk me out to it?" she asked, stressing the try, because she had no intention of letting him succeed.
"Because I'm too in love with you to walk away and I'm hoping that you're stronger than me," Lupin said frankly.
Her heart skipped a beat when he said that. Because I'm too in love with you... It wasn't quite saying I love you, but it was more than he had ever said. "I won't walk away," she said. "You're stuck with me." And she slid into his lap and kissed him.
It was electric. It was intoxicated. Every fibre of his being screamed how wrong it was to be doing this – that he should go back to emotionless physical connections with prostitutes that wouldn't lead to complications down the track – but when he was kissing Ginny, nothing mattered by kissing Ginny. Nothing mattered more than wrapping his arms around her and kissing her and sliding his hands up her pyjama top. "Ginny," moaned as he kissed her. He pushed her down onto her back, not even bothering to get them to her bedroom. The couch would do; hell, a dirt floor would have sufficed.
They quickly stripped each other of their clothes so they were naked and he was inside her without thinking of it. It was an instinctive thing, an animal thing; the attraction they shared was difficult to fight, and neither of them wanted to. He pumped her furiously and she clung to him desperately as they barrelled towards a mutual and simultaneous orgasm...
Afterwards, he picked her up and carried her to her bedroom – and her bed, the bed they had shared, almost platonically, last night. They while away the better part of the day making love and making small talk, lover's talk, in between.
Suddenly something occurred to Ginny and she bolted upright in bed. Lupin smiled at the sight of her, completely naked, her natural state of undress somewhat at odds with the panicked look on her face. "Remus – what if I get pregnant?" she asked. She had used protection before, and was aware of the risks of being sexually active, but those consequences had never seemed quite so real as when her lover was married and in no position to marry her should that state happen.
He laughed. "Relax, Gin. My Wolfsbane is bound with a contraceptive. How careless do you think I am?" he asked.
"You sound like you wouldn't have had Teddy if you could have avoided it," she said, not sure if she should make it as a joke or a serious statement.
"I wouldn't have," he admitted. "I was terrified that he would turn out like me. Now that I know I can only have human children..." he trailed off, realising that this line of thought was leading into potentially hurtful territory. If he could, he would have more children with Tonks, now that he knew those children would be human, now that he knew how much joy he got out of being a father. But he could never have children with Ginny. The social laws of the magical community were too entrenched for them to go down that path. If he was free to marry her, well, they wouldn't have been the first couple to have a child born less than nine months after the wedding, but there was still the expectation that mother and father would be married... especially when the mother was a pureblood. So being lax about contraception wasn't something that Lupin could afford.
Ginny understood exactly what Lupin meant, and her heart gave a painful little twist which she was careful not to show. She understood the necessity of children being off the table, but somehow, as soon as it had been said out loud – even by implication – she felt deeply deprived... for both of them.
She swallowed back her feelings. They were the things you had to accept if you were going to be involved with someone like Lupin... and she wanted that more than anything. Certainly more than the complication-free relationship she would get from a relationship with someone her own age, who was free to be with her.
Lupin sensed Ginny's disappointment as the realisation of the limitations of their relationship started to set in, and he was loathe to disappoint her even more, but he knew this was something that needed to be said from the beginning. "Look, Gin, I know I said every second weekend, but... if something comes up with Teddy, well, he's always going to be the number-one priority in my life. If he's sick or something, I won't just hand him over to someone else to take care if him – I'll give up my time with you to take care of him if that's what it takes. He means everything to me. He's all I have. I mean," he floundered, realising what a mis-step he'd made in such an admission, "I have you, too, of course, I didn't mean that the way it came out, but he's just a boy, he needs to come first in my life."
"I understand," Ginny said, choking back the added disappointment, because really, what did she expect? That when forced to choose, Lupin would take his adult mistress who was perfectly capable of looking after himself over his five-year-old-son who wasn't? "I wouldn't feel the way about you that I do if you weren't the kind of man who was devoted to his child."
He kissed her head softly. "Thankyou for understanding," he said quietly. Momentarily, he thought about Sarah – the first he had in years. The woman – girl, really – had never understood that he had several conflicting claims to his heart... not that Sarah had ever had a claim on his heart to begin with. He was grateful that Ginny understood that his five-year-old son – the only child he was likely to have – had to come first. But then, he wouldn't feel the way he did about her if she didn't understand.