"You look relaxed," Neville noted when he returned from his honeymoon, Lupin returning at almost the same time from his non-custodial weekend. Non-custodial weekend had been a euphemism – although it was true enough since he didn't have custody of Teddy for those weekends – because the whole staff, and maybe some of the older students, knew that Lupin used these weekends to go to Knockturn Alley and patron prostitutes. No-one thought any less of him for it; since he'd discovered the pleasures that came with a relationship, he knew he would go crazy under the kind of restrictions that the Lupin marriage was under.
"Er... I guess," Lupin said vaguely, because he knew that if he looked relaxed, it was because he had spent the weekend with Ginny, mostly in her bed – but occasionally in the living-room floor, against the kitchen counter... he blushed to think of it.
"That good, huh?" Neville asked. "Sorry, none of my business," he added when he immediately sensed that he had stepped into a personal boundary – and wasn't welcome there. What Lupin did in his own time was his business; certainly, he was discreet enough about it that not even Andromeda complained. (And Neville always knew when Andromeda complained, because she invariably complained to his grandmother. If Lupin and Andromeda were unlikely Gryffindor-Slytherin allies, then Augusta and Andromeda were even more unlikely ones.)
"How are things?" Lupin asked politely, eager to get the conversations away from him and his extracurricular activities. "Married life suiting you?"
"I like having her with me all the time," Neville admitted. "I hope she's not bored." Lupin smiled at that; Luna's child-like outlook on the world meant that the younger students had loved her the few times she was allowed to keep Neville company at Hogwarts. No doubt she would be popular with the students, especially when Sprout left and the girls needed a female to confide in.
"I take it you know Pomona's leaving at the end of the year?" Neville asked, meaning the school year at the beginning of summer.
Lupin nodded. "She's too nurturing a teacher to make a good disciplinarian for a place like this, but she'll be wonderful somewhere like Lady of the Lake. I've only heard good things about it."
"I wanted to go there," Neville said wistfully. Luna and Ron – and his brothers and sister – had gone there and loved it. "I hated Morganna's. Twelve years of Draco Malfoy and I'll be quite happy to never see him again."
That attitude didn't surprise Lupin in the slightest. Morganna's was considered to be the best elementary school for magical-born children – that was, the school that all the purebloods sent their children to. With a talent that had only started blossoming under the tutelage of Sprout and Lupin in his third year at Hogwarts, Neville would have been miserable when surrounded by the likes of Draco Malfoy. "Teddy's going to Lady of the Lake," Lupin said. "I'm going to miss him something chronic, but it's a weight off my shoulders knowing Pomona will be Headmistress."
"Really? Teddy's going to Lady of the Lake? Didn't Andromeda and Tonks both go to Morganna's?" Neville asked, surprised, because Andromeda Tonks was liberal and open-minded in some regards, but very tradition in others, such as education. "Did he – er – " Neville asked, stumbling on the awkward question: had Teddy been rejected because his breed status was in question? Teddy had shown no sign of his father's lycanthropy, and there was very strong evidence to support the fact that Lupin couldn't have anything but human children, but that didn't stop the more bigoted purebloods from holding his breed status in question.
"No, nothing like that," Lupin said. "At least, not that I know of – I wouldn't put it past Andy to have made inquiries behind my back. No, I don't want him to go to Morganna's. It's full of pure-blood snobs. I wouldn't want him to be in that kind of place even if he wouldn't cop abuse for being my son. Dora was miserable there because of her half-blood status and Andy, for all her good points, has a blind spot when it comes to things like Morganna's. The Weasleys and Luna went to Lady of the Lake and that's more than good enough for me."
"But – Andromeda wants him to go to Morganna's?" Neville asked.
"Andromeda doesn't get a say in it. Besides," Lupin said with a smile. "I let her talk for an hours, espousing the virtues of Morganna's. Had him half-won over too, I think. Then all I had to say was that Uncle Charlie had gone to Lady of the Lake and that was the end of it. Sometimes I'm glad he lives in Romania, else I might have a rival," he finished, laughing, because he knew that as much as his son adored his uncle, Charlie was never going to be a replacement for him as a father.
"I like Teddy," Neville admitted shyly. "I want one like him."
"No, you don't. He's got both our intelligence and his mum's ability to get into trouble."
"Riiight. Because you and Bill did so much to stop him disarming the shield and going off on his own with Victorie. You love having a bright, mischievous kid. I want one just like him... just without the family history of Slytherin."
"You've certainly changed your tune," Lupin noted.
"I always wanted to get married and have kids," Neville admitted. "And I knew it was hurting Luna's feelings that I couldn't commit the way she wanted... the way we both wanted. It was like... I was being torn in two directions. There was this part of me that wanted it so much that it hurt and another part that was terrified of something happened like with my parents. It's not that I don't love Gran – I do – but I missed out on so much for not having them around and I didn't want to put my own kids through that. And seeing what you go through with Tonks..."
'What changed?"
"Lots of little things, incrementally. I love teaching and I love Teddy and wanted my own kids. And as the years went by and there were no reprisals I started to feel a bit more secure in the future."
Lupin grinned. "You do realise that I was executing a two-pronged attack with your grandmother? I made sure Teddy was always around when you dropped by and she kept guilting you about how much she envied Andromeda for seeing her grandson all the time. Though I guess in her case she wanted a great-grandson."
Neville had to laugh at that; it made perfect sense. "One day I realised that I could wait my whole life and I was never going to get over the feeling of abandonment or fear that I would do that to my own kids and that I should go for it before Luna got fed up of waiting for me and found someone who realised what a great girl she was."
"And how do you feel about your parents?" Lupin asked, and they both knew he meant how did he feel three months after their deaths.
"I miss them," Neville said frankly. "I always will. I didn't think it was possible to miss them the way I do, I never knew them. And for a while, I felt guilty – if I hadn't told them about Luna and I, maybe they'd still be alive. And then I realised how stupid that was. I truly believe that they went because they knew I was happy and that they'd been holding on for that. To go knowing that your kid is happy and loved – there are far worse things a parent could want," Neville said, and Lupin was reminded why the young man was the youngest Professor since at least Snape – he had a wisdom that belied his twenty-two years. Lupin was suddenly reminded of Ginny, who possessed that same wisdom, and he hoped his thoughts weren't written all over his face. "I think they knew they weren't coming back," Neville said. "There must have been some degree of consciousness, some understanding in there. I like to think that they were happy for me. Sorry," he said when he saw the look of deep thought on his colleague and friend's place. "I didn't mean to dredge up the memories."
"You didn't, Neville. You just gave me something to think about. I always hoped that Dora had some comprehension of what I was telling her. It comforts me to know that there's something of her still in there." And as he said the words, he knew that he had to be honest with his wife, and hope that she understood why he was doing what he was, because conscious or not, he owed her that honesty.
"I love you," Lupin said to his wife late in the evening a few days later. "I should have known it sooner, I should have told you sooner. I should have appreciated it. I was so lonely without you, but I never meant for this to happen – I swear." Lupin took Tonks's hands in his and held them tightly, feeling the cling of their wedding rings against each other. "She makes me feel good," he admitted. "The way you used to – do you remember the way you used to rub my shoulders after a transformation? I missed that more than I missed the sex, that was just a ...physical release. And then I had this amazing woman who made me feel loved and wanted and not an animal. I never understood that difference until I was with you and I wish I'd known that sooner – told you sooner. I wish I still had you with me. But – when I'm with her... I feel happy again. She makes me feel the way you made me feel. And I feel awful for betraying you like this – I wish you were still here with me –" he blathered. "What I'm trying to say is – I hope you understand. I never wanted to hurt you and I never planned to cheat on you."
Lupin felt tears coming to his eyes and felt ripped apart by guilt, and yet still felt a driving urge to be with Ginny. "I miss you so much, and Teddy misses you, too." If Neville could miss his parents, than Lupin figured that so could Teddy – like all good parents, he considered his own son to have vastly superior intelligence to everyone else's, even that of a man who was colleague and friend. "If you came back to me, I'd try so hard to get over this – I would get over it," he said resolutely, because although it killed him to think of not being with Ginny, he knew that he owed it to his wife to make their marriage work... should she come back to him. "But I hope you understand," he said. He knew that, should the situation be reversed, he wouldn't be so understanding – even now, the thought of Tonks and Charlie together made his heart writhe with jealousy, and that had been years before he had known her. (At least as an equal, he thought wryly, because he had known her as 'Andromeda's daughter' for a good twenty years.)
"I don't know why I'm telling you this," he admitted. "I need to be honest with you and I like to think that there's a part of you that understands me... even though you must hate me for hearing this." I know I'd hate you if I the situations were reversed, he thought, of course not daring to say such a thing out loud. But then, wasn't hate sometimes an indication of how much you loved someone? He remembered his affair with Sarah – he hadn't cared about her promiscuous history because he hadn't cared enough about her to consider her 'his' to be jealous over. Whereas with Tonks... or Ginny... "I just wanted you to know," he finished helplessly.
Ginny greeted him at the fireplace with excited kisses. It had been three weekends now – four weeks – and the fortnight in between was hard. Lupin was wracking his brains for a way to see more of Ginny, but he knew that there was no way he could arrange something regular without raising at least the suspicion of his colleagues. For the foreseeable future, it was alternate weekends only, and he already wanted more. They both did.
It would be so easy to not tell Ginny about his last visit to his wife – she knew he visited Tonks regularly, and while she didn't like it, she knew it wouldn't be fair to ask him to stop it, but she didn't know what he had said to her – but his sense of decency forced him to be upfront with her. "Ginny, Gin, please," he said, reluctantly pushing her away when he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and take her to bed. "Gin, stop it. We need to talk."
Ginny pulled away from him abruptly, his words putting an immediate dampener on her excitement. When he spoke like that he was trying to put a me-professor-you-student barrier between them. Was he trying to call it off? "What is it?" she asked in a small, tight voice.
"I saw Dora last week," he said. "I told her about us."
"WHAT?" Ginny asked incredulously. "What would posses you to do such an idiotic thing? You don't know how much she can hear, how much she can understand. Look at Neville's parents." What she had once thought was spooky and romantic in a tragic way – his parents dying after over twenty years in a drooling state upon hearing of their son's happiness, somehow understanding what they were being told – seemed tawdry when it came to her lover telling his wife about him.
"I felt I had to," Lupin said quietly, and she saw that resolute honour in his eyes that was part of the reason she had fallen for him – but now she deeply resented in him. "I felt she had a right to know."
He didn't add if she wakes up, it's something we would have to work through, because deep down Ginny had known that, as unlikely as that was to happen, if Tonks was to come back to the world of the fully living, Lupin would go back to her. He had to. There was no divorce, no annulment when there were children... and he wouldn't put Teddy through a broken home, anyway. But still, it infuriated Ginny – and worse, made her feel cheap, made her status as the other woman, the mistress, more concrete. "And you think she took it well?" she asked sarcastically. "How would you feel if the situation were reversed? How would you feel if it was here and Charlie?" her pride couldn't resist flinging in his face, because she knew how touchy he was about Charlie and Tonks's enduring friendship that had once been a relationship.
"I'd hate her," Lupin said frankly. "And I'd probably kill him. But I'd still try to get over it. I owe it to Teddy."
Ginny hated when he talked about his son and marriage with that quiet conviction. His feelings for Tonks hadn't died like they would have in an acrimonious split – or even a harmonious one – but merely gotten to the point where he couldn't continue grieving deeply for her and had to negotiate the best situation he could between being married and being widowed Even comatose for close to five years, she was still there, and Ginny knew that if a miracle should happen and she came back fully to the land of the living, Lupin would leave her. Tonks would always win if he had to choose between the two of them, no matter how he felt about Ginny – because Tonks was his wife and the mother of his son. Ginny had known all this when they had first started their relationship, but times like this brought it uncomfortably close to him.
"I'm sorry I upset you," Lupin said, and Ginny caught what he wasn't saying; he was sorry that his actions had upset her, but he wasn't sorry that he had committed them. "Do you want me to go?"
"I think that would be for the best," Ginny said tersely. "I don't feel like having sex with you right now."
"Ginny," Lupin said softly, his affection for her creeping into his voice and halting the feelings of disappointment, anger and jealousy that were churning away in her heart. "I'll understand if you want me to go. I know I've upset you and I hate doing that to you. But I don't come here just to have sex with you. If that's all I wanted – " he stopped there, because he knew there was no way he could refer to his visits to Knockturn Alley without making the situation worse. "When you were with me during the summer, before we – er – got involved, I was so happy. I had this intelligent, gorgeous woman who loved my company and cared about as much about my lycanthropy as if it wasn't there. It was like – it was a little like being with Lily again."
She knew how much Lily Evans-Potter had meant to him, and she couldn't help but be flattered by the comparison. "Really?" she asked.
"We were Head Boy and Girl together," Lupin recalled. "We used to spend hours together. She didn't like Quidditch anymore than I did – although I admit, my reasons were largely to do with jealousy whereas she just found it boring – devouring whatever knowledge we could lay our hands on. You actually reminded me a little of her the first time I meant you, when you were in second year." Privately, Lupin had had a theory that Harry's interest in Ginny had stemmed from an odd variation on the idea that boys often fell for women who reminded them of their mothers, and vice versa. "She made me laugh and feel good about myself, I was always happier for being around her. You have those same qualities. I never enjoyed my summers travelling so much as when I was with you. I wouldn't have fallen for you if I hadn't."
Ginny's heart melted when he said this. To be compared favourably to Lily Potter was a huge compliment in itself, to be compared favourable to her by Lupin was something far beyond that. "I didn't realise you felt that way," she said. "About me, I mean." It was common knowledge that he and Lily had been extremely close.
Lupin cocked his head. "I would have thought that was obvious," he said. "I wouldn't have gotten involved with something so... complicated if I wasn't so damn crazy about you."
Upon hearing this, she threw herself into his arms. "I love you," she said, her voice muffled from her face being buried in his shoulders.
He held her closely to his chest and patted her back lovingly. He couldn't bring himself to say the words back – it would be yet another betrayal to Tonks – but he didn't doubt the sincerity of her words and deep down, knew that they were returned.
"Remus! Stop fidgeting!" Andromeda hissed at her son-in-law.
Lupin stayed as still as he could. "Sorry," he said. "I'm not good at official functions." A new wing was being opened at St. Mungos, and since it was being named in honour of Tonks, he had to be there.
Thanks to Andromeda's open-minded policy of including muggle-borns and half-breeds on the staff of Healers and researchers at St. Mungo's, positions that had until a few years ago been restricted to purebloods – and the occasional half-blood who was particularly brilliant and dedicated to pureblood values – she had a much wider choice of applicants to choose from, and by extension, a much greater talent pool. Such as Hermione Granger – now Weasley – whose research and experimentation with healing spells had led to a potion that could reverse the spells that caused serious brain damage such as that to Frank and Alice Longbottom and Nymphodora Tonks, if treated within a few days. Of course, at this point in time it couldn't help Tonks – the damage seemed to be progressive – and it was too late for the Longbottoms, but it was, nonetheless, a major breakthrough.
And it was fitting that this new wing be named after Nymphodora Tonks, only child of the current administrator – not to mention first administrator in over a hundred years to play an active role in the hospital – and naturally, said woman's husband was expected to be there. And Lupin hated official functions. True, things were a lot easier for a werewolf to live openly, but those were things that had only changed over the last few years, and the balance was far in favour of the years that he had spent feared and hated. He remained uncomfortable, even paranoid that behind those Ministry smiles was disgust.
At least Kingsley Shaklebolt was here. Kingsley and Andromeda had been two of his biggest advocates – Kinsley out of genuine friendship and a desire to see the magical communication driven my merit and not blood- or breed-status; Andromeda more out of self-preservation – it suited her to have her son-in-law accepted, if only for the sake of her grandson. And Hermione was here; the girl was bright with a third for knowledge that surpassed even Ginny (though she often reminded him of her brother-in-law Percy with her know-it-all nature) so at least there were a few people here that Lupin felt comfortable around.
Still, he wished he was back at Hogwarts. McGonagall wouldn't hear of him turning down the St. Mungo's event on the grounds he had classes to teach; she had taken over his Friday classes herself. So here he was, nervous and fidgety and way out of his comfort zone – he was far more at home traipsing around Eastern Europe, mingling with Dark and Dangerous Creatures – then he was being centre stage at official Ministry functions. "I'm not good at official functions," he said to Andromeda. "We could be doing far more productive things than smiling for The Daily Prophet." He scowled when he spotted Rita Skeeter, who would have happily torn him apart in print if it wasn't for the fact that he was under Andromeda's protection and that wasn't someone that the so-called 'journalist' wasn't prepared to take on.
"I don't like them either," Andromeda said with cool professionalism.
"Yeah, but you were raised to do this kind of crap," Lupin countered, then decided from the withering look that she gave him that it was best if he shut his mouth on the subject. At least when it was over he could go to Ginny; he might even get out earlier than he usually did, if this thing finished before his classes usually did.
So he smiled for the cameras – managing to look appropriately sad at the same time – while Andromeda have a powerful speech about the need for unity and seeking talent based on merit, not blood- or breed-status, with an added regret that this breakthrough wasn't able to help her own daughter. She was a powerful orator – Lupin might make pot-shots about her being raised to do such things, but the truth was, she had been raised to be a leader in the magical community – the fourth-in-line to the heir of the Black fortune growing up and now, with the deaths or Sirius, Regulus and Bellatrix, the outright heir. And perhaps better suited to the role than any of her predecessors, because Sirius had loathed everything the Black name stood for, Regulus had been an untested element and Bellatrix had been flat-out crazy. But Andromeda was highly educated and articulate, and had always been a strong advocate in unity and meritocracy.
Finally, the speeches were over, but Lupin wasn't about to get out early – there was still lunch and a lot of socialising to do, and he didn't dare go until Andromeda said it was OK to do so. In some ways, he had the upper hand in their relationship because of Teddy, but there were some things he didn't dare cross her over, and this was one of them.
The day wore on and turned into evening, and the evening wore on so by the time it was finally over Lupin didn't think there was any point in going to Ginny's and wake her up. He figured it was best to return to Hogwarts for the night and head out again first thing in the morning.
Mid-afternoon on Friday, when the early edition of the weekend Daily Prophet came out, Ginny was furious. Her fury stewed all afternoon and all night, growing all the more potent at Lupin didn't show up. She had known he had something on to do with St. Mungo's – he had been vague about it, only that Andromeda had commanded him and it was something he didn't care to fight her on, and that he didn't know when it would finish but hopefully early afternoon.
Well, now it was Saturday morning and he still hadn't shown up.
With nothing else to do without Lupin to target her rage on, Ginny reread the article. Rita Skeeter had waxed lyrical, even going so far as to paint Lupin in a favourable light, the tragic sort-of widower whose wife had been struck down a mere year into her marriage, left to raise a young son on his own. Skeeter might hold half-breeds in contempt, but she held Andromeda Tonks-nee-Black in a strong mixture of fear and awe – therefor, anyone under Andromeda's protection was to be treated with the same awe.
Come to think of it, Hermione had mentioned the new wing opening at St. Mungo's – Ginny hadn't paid much attention because she had never been hugely interested in Healing and the goings-on of St. Mungo's, and quite frankly, Hermione could be a right bore when it came to something she was passionate about, like the research work she was doing for St. Mungo's. So she hadn't inquired any further into it, and her interest hadn't been piqued when Lupin had said he might be late on Friday because he had to do something with Andromeda. So she hadn't given it enough thought to realise that the 'something' to do with Andromeda was most likely about St. Mungo's.
And there it was, in black, white and sepia – the new wing opening at St. Mungo's dedicated to reversing the brain damage done to people like Alice and Frank Longbottom and Nymphodora Tonks. There was a whole half-page story dedicated to Tonks and her tragically motherless son and what a valiant job Lupin was doing raising on his own. Not to mention a bit about Lupin as the tragic-kind-of-widower and his devotion to his comatose wife. It was sickening, really, and if Ginny hadn't been so hurt and angry, she would have gotten a perverted sense of pleasure out of knowing how it must have pain Rita Skeeter to write such kind – if completely overblown – things about Lupin.
Lupin. Her lover. He would have known that the press would be out in full force – who could resist such a feel-good story? – and he hadn't bothered to tell her. Had he thought he could get away with it, or had he just not cared weather she found out or not?
She reread the bit about Tonks's young and tragic fall and Lupin's loss and devotion to his wife, and her heart burned and bled at the same time. It had been so long that Tonks was barely mentioned anymore, the same way that by the time she had come to know Neville, his parents weren't mentioned. There was only so much a person to be in the same half-living state before they had to slide onto the backburner of public awareness. So it wasn't like she was involved with one-half of a high-profile marriage. And this new wing, this publicity, had bumped it back to high-profile, at least for a little while.
And Lupin hadn't even bothered to tell her in advance.
She felt betrayed. She felt cheap. She felt as valued as one of the prostitutes he visited, whose services he paid for and who he owed no loyalty, no consideration in return. Only she was the idiot who wasn't even being paid for her services.
She had worked herself in a right fury by the time Lupin finally arrived early Saturday morning – fury tinged by hurt and humiliation. "Gin, sorry I didn't come yesterday," Lupin called through the small apartment the second he arrived. "We didn't finished until late at night and I didn't want to wake you up so I went back to Hogwarts."
She came at him like a banshee – and he should know. "You bastard!" she screamed at him. "You lying – cheating – callous – bastard!"
Deep down, he knew what this was about. The Daily Prophet was the top paper in England's magical community, there was no way she would have missed it, even to just give it a cursory glance – and a cursory glance would have led to a word-for-word read once she saw the subject of the front-page headline. "Ginny, I – " he started, by Ginny was too full of fury and hurt to pay him any mind.
"I – trusted you – with my heart – and you – blather on – about your wife – for everyone to read!"
"Ginny, I didn't say that!" Lupin protested. Typical of Rita Skeeter, she had made up suitable quotes and attributed them to people who had never spoken them. Just because she had made up something favourable about him this time (and it wasn't too favourable from where he was standing) didn't make it any less made-up.
"Like shit you didn't," she spat at him, although she knew full well how willing and able Rita Skeeter was at making stuff up. She waved the paper furiously in his face. "Do you have any idea how I felt to read this?" she screamed at him. "I miss her every day," she quoted from memory. "There was never anyone else for me and there'll never be anyone else for me. It's fucking humiliating, Remus. You told the whole fucking world that she is the love of your life and no-one else will ever mean anything – not even me." If there was no-one else for him, she thought, then what did that make her other that a whore who was too silly to collect payment for her services?
"Well, it's not like anyone knows about us," Lupin said lamely.
It was the worst possible thing to say; it reminded her that their affair had to be kept a secret. "Bastard!" she screamed at him, striking him, raking her nails down his cheek viciously. "Get out!" she screamed, pounding her fists ineffectually on his chest. "If I don't mean anything to you then – get – out! I don't want to see you again!"
If she didn't mean anything to him? She meant everything to him. She meant more to him then – but he pushed that disloyal thought away hastily. As she was striking out at him and screaming at him, the threat of losing her snapped something in her and he grabbed her forcefully. Her words had awoken in him a wild sense of possession and he knew that there was no place he could be right now but with her.
Ginny resisted his embrace. "Get out!" she screamed at him again, although even as she struggled against him, she could feel the force in his hold – a force that she had never witnessed in him before, not even that first night they had gotten together, that first kiss when he had been terrified that he would lose her to Junior's sick obsession with revenge... She pounded on his back as he closed the gap between them, his chest hard against hers, and kissed her hard, bruising.
"Mine," he growled. "You're mine. I love you. I won't lose you."
She fought against him, her efforts fuelled by anger and hurt, but he was stronger and the more fiercely he kissed her, the more she felt her desire to fight draining her. She felt him tearing at her dress, gathering a fistful of material at the neckline and ripping it clean down the middle. She returned the favour, tearing his shirt down the back, raking her nails down his back, digging them into his skin, drawing back. He arched his back at the pain, a basic, animal thrill stirring inside him that she cared so much to scream and inflict violence in a jealous rage.
And then they were on the floor, literally tearing at each other's clothes, and she was fighting him, unleashing her fury on him, at the same time that she was welcoming his advances. He caught her wrists in one hand, pinning them against the floor above her head, using his free hand to yank down her panties so she was completely naked under him. A few seconds later, he was naked himself and, thrusting one knee in between her legs to spread them before pushing himself roughly inside her without bothering to make sure she was ready for him.
He needn't have worried. He grunted when he felt how wet she was, so warm and slippery, and for a few seconds he found it difficult to stay inside her until he found his rhythm. He let go of her hands and she brought them around to his back, cupping his ass, digging her fingers into his buttocks, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, urging him deeper inside her, to ride her hard and fast. He kissed her hard, deeply, and she returned it.
She yanked at his hair so his head was forced back and buried her face in his neck, biting him, her teeth sinking into his flesh. He could feel the pain even through the white-hot passion but didn't care. He held her tighter as he felt himself start to orgasm and knew that they would climax together. "I love you," he repeated in the throes of passion...
With the immediate desire sated – and the immediate threat of her leaving passed – they lay together on the floor. "Calmer?" he asked laconically.
"Did you mean it?" she asked.
"Mean what?"
"That you love me."
"Yeah. I thought you knew that."
"How am I supposed to know that, Remus? You made it clear that Teddy's your priority. You didn't even bother to tell me about this St. Mungo's thing," she said, waving her hand in the direction of the discarded paper.
"I couldn't get out of it, Gin. It's something that's so important to Andy because of Dora."
"I know you couldn't... but you could have told me. Did you think I wouldn't find out about it? Did you think I wouldn't read the Daily Prophet? That Hermione or Neville wouldn't say anything to me? I deserve a little more than finding out about stuff like this from someone other than you... especially a hack like Rita Skeeter."
Lupin cringed to think about how much he had hurt Ginny. "I know," he said. "And I'm sorry. I'm not good at this," he admitted, meaning the subterfuge involved with an affair and the considerations he had to take with Ginny that weren't needed with prostitutes.
She smiled ruefully at that. "I supposed that's a good thing," she said. "Means you haven't had much practice... means there wasn't anyone special enough to practice on."
He kissed her. "You know you're pretty damn special. I love you," he said again. Then he flexed his shoulders and could feel the blood running down his back. "You've made a complete mess of me, you minx," he said.
"You want me to fix that?" she asked.
"It'll be fine. Werewolf healing, remember. I just need to have a shower and clean up. Care to join me?" he asked, and for the time being, the crisis was over.
"Ouch, that looks nasty," Neville said when he invited himself into Lupin's rooms late Sunday evening after Teddy had gone to bed for drinks. It was something they had been doing for years, and Luna knew better than to object to a tradition between her husband and the closest he had had to a father-figure. Someone had bitten into his shoulder, and bitten hard. "Your mistress do that?" he asked with feigned casualness, because it was something he and many of the other Hogwarts staff had been suspecting for a while.
Lupin did his best to look completely ignorant, when he knew that Neville wouldn't have brought it up if he didn't have a damn strong suspicion. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said.
"Oh, come off it, Remus. The whole staff knows, we've just been too polite to bring it up. You haven't been to Knockturn Alley in months, but you're still going away for your non-custodial weekends. And you've been happier than I can remember you being. I take it you haven't – er – been partaking in Sarah Callahan's services anymore?" he asked. It had been Ginny who had gleefully discovered that her rival worked Knockturn Alley (how Ginny had found this out, no-one wanted to know).
"I never employed her services, thankyouverymuch," Lupin said. "Once was enough. She wanted too much from me."
Lupin's affair with Sarah Callahan had been a badly-kept secret, as was it ending because Sarah had wanted more from him – although what she thought a married man could give her was unknown. "And this woman doesn't?" Neville asked.
There was no point in denying it; Lupin supposed he had been naive to think that no-one would realise he had stopped visiting Knockturn Alley and taken a mistress. "She knows the limitations," he said softly. "She wants more – I want more – but it can't happen."
"And if Tonks wakes up?"
Lupin cringed; it had been at the back of his mind since he had started his relationship with Ginny. "I go back to her," he said. "And hope that we can get through it. I can't do anything else."
"And she knows this?" Lupin nodded. "She must be an incredible woman," Neville said.
"She is."
There was an odd silence between the two men, and Lupin knew Neville well enough to know what he was thinking. Despite his sheltered, conservative upbringing, he got the place that prostitution held in any society, and that it was naive to expect any man, let alone one with a werewolf's sex drive, to remain faithful to a comatose wife for five years. But even prostitution could only give him so much, particularly for a man like Lupin who felt and cared so much. Men with far less cause to take a mistress had taken them far sooner into their marriages. Idly, Neville wondered just how special this woman was that Lupin would engage in an affair; he was painfully aware of how little he had to offer a woman. It wouldn't be an easy relationship for either of them.
And yet... despite his own repugnance at the thought of marital infidelity, he was happy for his colleague. The loneliness had taken its toll on Lupin, that had been obvious, as obvious as his happiness the last three months. When you were as close to Lupin as Neville was, who could begrudge the man for finding a little happiness amid the misery that had been his life?
Somehow, Lupin doubted that Neville would be so happy for him if he knew who his mistress was.