Chapter Ten
Ginny came downstairs the next morning to see a very sombre Bill, Fleur, Charlie and Tess. "What the – " she asked, floored and a little unsettled by this gathering. "Someone die?" she asked flippantly – a choice of words she would long regret.
"Nymphadora Lupin," Bill said, almost choking on the formal name, and yet, it seemed disrespectful to refer to her nickname.
"Who?" Ginny asked. When it clicked who they were referring to, it felt like a knockout blow to her stomach. She groped for a chair; Charlie waved his wand and one materialised right under. "Oh, Merlin..." she breathed. She had known that the only way for her and Lupin to be together was for Tonks to die, had even wished it – although she hadn't meant it, and Neville had called her out on it – but it was one thing to know that in theory, and quite another for in to happen. She felt a stab of guilt, as if her wishing for Lupin to be free had caused Tonks's death. "When? How?" she asked.
"The night before last," Bill said. "And we don't know. She was there one lot of rounds and not the next."
Like Neville's parents, Ginny thought. She remembered how she had thought the circumstances surrounding their deaths had been spooky and kind of sweet – the vegetative parents who had waited twenty years for their son to fall in love and want to marry before they went. But now, in these circumstances, there seemed something tragic and guilt-inducing about Tonks's death.
She knew he had told her about their affair. Had he said something to her following their breakup that had... she swallowed. She didn't want to think about it.
And if she was feeling like this, how was he feeling about it all? Probably guilty as hell.
She had to see him.
"Don't even think about it," Bill said flatly, trying not to sound unkind when it was obvious what his sister was thinking. "Remus and Andromeda have specifically requested you not be there."
Ginny felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. "What?" she asked.
"I'm not sure why you're so surprised," Charlie interjected. "She was his wife. You may not like to think about it, but he did love her. Always did. Do you really think he's going to want you around to remind him of is infidelity? And even if he did, do you think Andromeda would tolerate you?" Merlin knew, smarter, more powerful witches than Ginny had made the mistake in believing that just because Andromeda was sane and on the good guy's side, didn't make her any less a dangerous witch as her sister Bellatrix when she chose to be. "Do you really think charging in so soon after his wife has died is going to endear you to him? And never underestimate what an influence Andromeda is on him. If she thinks you've tarnished her daughter's memory by moving in on him so soon – "
Ginny gulped visibly at that. She had never thought about how it would look to everyone else, should Lupin get involved with someone so soon after his wife's death, even given the circumstances. Or, for that matter, that he would be grieving for his late wife, even if it had been five years, even if he had fallen for someone else in the meantime. And Andromeda could be fearsome when it came to thinks that were dear to her – like her grandson, or her daughter's memory.
She slumped in her chair, momentarily conceding that her brothers were right.
"I can't believe I'm advocating this tactic, but let him come to you," Charlie said, squeezing Tess's hand discreetly, because if he'd let her come to him, they'd never have gotten anywhere. "If he really loves you, he'll eventually come around. And if he doesn't, you don't want to confuse things under these circumstances."
Lupin looked dully at the crowd that had gathered in the Tonks home. He supposed he should be grateful that so many people had come – every staff member of St. Mungo's that could get away, the same with his own colleagues at Hogwarts, dozens of friends of Tonks's had he had never met – he had never been that involved in her life – and the entirely Weasley family, sans Ginny.
He was glad for that. He couldn't deal with Ginny right now. He couldn't deal with much right now. He couldn't focus on much beyond his guilt.
He had wished to be single enough times that he had managed to kill his wife. He remembered learning about Frank and Alice, and thinking it was romantic and sweet in a spooky way that they had held on long enough to see their son happy with someone, that they had somehow understood that now it was time to let go. And then he had gone and complained to his wife enough times that he wanted to be his mistress, and look what had happened. He'd killed her. He'd made her miserable in their first year of marriage, then hounded her to death in their last.
No, he couldn't face Ginny right now.
"Remus? How are you holding up?" Charlie asked. His brother-in-law looked awful, far beyond any reasonable expectation of someone grieving, even deeply so. This was a man who looked haunted by guilt. He knew Ginny herself was feeling guilty about the times she had wished Tonks would just die – a young woman's frustrated ranting, not meant in the least, but nonetheless a heavy weight for her to wear now that it had actually happened. And if Ginny felt like that, how did Lupin feel?
"Fine," Lupin grunted.
"You look like hell."
"My fucking wife just died, Charlie, I wasn't aware I was supposed to be keeping up appearance," Lupin said sarcastically. "Sorry," he said contritely. He knew he was ne short with people who were only trying to show that they cared, but he was so tired of their condolences. None of them – even those who had lost someone close to them – had a clue what he was going through. None of them could understand how guilty he felt. Not even Neville, who hadn't exactly wished his parents dead.
"It's fine," Charlie said. "No-one's saying you have to keep up appearances. We just don't want you to shut yourself off. A lot of people care about you, Remus."
Lupin smiled wanly. "Who's the old woman?" he asked, gesturing to yet another woman that he didn't recognise, but, unlike Tonks's friends, was elderly and dressed in prim muggle clothes.
"That's Audrey, Tonks's grandmother – Ted's mum," Charlie said, making a face.
"You don't like her?" Lupin asked; it was the nearest topic that wasn't directly about Tonks that he could find.
"She's... a little intolerant," Charlie said. "She blamed Andromeda for Ted staying in the magical community, and Andromeda retaliated by sending one photo of Teddy and then letting her stew. I'm surprised she was even invited. I'm surprised she even knew."
"Andy told her about me," Lupin said vaguely.
Charlie couldn't help but smile. "That sounds like her," he said.
"She always liked you," Lupin said flatly.
"No, she didn't – oh, you meant Andromeda," Charlie said, cause Audrey hadn't liked him much more that she had liked Andromeda. "We weren't good together," Charlie said awkwardly, because he was aware of just how much Andromeda had liked him as her daughter's boyfriend, and wasn't sure what he was meant to say to the son-in-law that Andromeda had, at best, a cordial relationship with.
"Neither were we," Lupin said in that same flat voice. Charlie fidgeted awkwardly; what the hell was he supposed to say to that?
From across the room, Audrey Tonks eyed Lupin through bitter eyes. It was easy enough to work out who he was; the mourners had been gravitating around him, and the little boy Teddy had drifted between him and Andromeda all day. Her great-grandson who she had never met. The Black bitch had sent her one photo, along with a note that his father was a werewolf, then nothing. If her son was still alive, she would have seen more of the boy – like she had seen something of her granddaughter, because Ted had overridden Andromeda's objections – but because it was all down to Andromeda now... it was obvious from the way that Lupin was looking at her curiously that he had no idea who she was.
Her only son was dead. Her only grandchild was dead. Her daughter-in-law had kept her great-grandson – her only living relative – from her out of sheer spite. And allowed her granddaughter to marry a werewolf. None of this would ever have happened if Ted had just listened to her, if the Black bitch hadn't gotten her claws into him.
Like most muggles, Audrey had no tolerance for firewhisky, and a little had gone straight to her head, making the bitterness manifest itself. She watched her great-grandson who didn't know who she was and her grandson-in-law who was more of a freak than her daughter-in-law – and not much younger than her daughter-in-law, to boot – with increasing rage, until she finally thought it was a good idea to go confront Lupin.
"YOU!" she screamed at him, marching up to him, unsteady on her feet. "You – freak!"
"Audrey," Charlie said quietly, and Audrey recognised the stocky redhead who had been her granddaughter's high-school boyfriend. She remembered not thinking much of the wizard at the time, but he had to be an improvement on Lupin.
"You killed her!" she screamed, because it was nice to have someone to lash out at after she had lost so much. "You – perverted – freak – you corrupted her!"
"I didn't – " Lupin said in a small voice, far too sober and guilt-ridden to be any match for Audrey's vehemence.
"Shut up!" Audrey screamed. "All of you – you make me sick!" she screamed, twirling around and facing the crowd of hostile friends and family. Andromeda was walking quickly towards her. "And you especially," she spat at her daughter-in-law.
"Get out of my house," Andromeda said coldly, reminding everyone there that she was Bellatrix's sister and making even Audrey quake. "I didn't want you here and I especially don't want you here now." Kingsley Shaklebolt had suggested it – suggested it in his strong, persuasive way that made it difficult to refuse the Ministry of Magic – since Audrey had lost her granddaughter – and Andromeda had thought it was best to grit her teeth than deny to what would seem to others as a reasonable request.
She now regretted it, and her right hand waved over her hip – discreetly but powerfully, the way she had a knack for doing. Audrey may not have known her sister, but she knew the look of a determined woman who possessed considerable magical power – and was backed up by a roomful of friends and family who weren't exactly without power of their own. A hateful look in her eyes, she backed away.
"I'll take you to the train station," Charlie offered. He could drive, after Tess had insisted it was a muggle skill that he should learn, and he was glad now, because he didn't trust Tess to drive the woman. She had broken half a dozen bones in a fit of passion for him – she would do more than that to the woman who had accused her brother of corrupting his wife.
"Remus, she didn't mean – " Andromeda started in a rare moment of sympathy for her brother-in-law.
"She meant every word," Lupin said flat. "Excuse me," he said, and he left the room – his own wife's wake.
Lupin stirred in his sleep and woke up, horny as hell like he got this time as month. His wife was curled up on her side next to him, he slim arm flung across his chest. In her sleep, her hair had returned to its natural medium brown, a naturalness that he found insanely sexy. He wriggled out from her arm and flipped her into her stomach. He pulled down the tracksuit pants she was wearing, along with her underwear, and slipped his fingers inside her. She was still wet from their previous exertions.
She stirred in her sleep. "Remus, no," she protested. She hated this position, and had told him so last month. She wished he could be gentle and undemanding the way he could be when she had first asked him to ease up. "You know I don't like it like this," she complained.
"You know I do," he countered. "Please, love..." He stroked her expertly, turning her on despite herself. She moaned in spite of herself and he took that for consent. He positioned himself beyond her and penetrated her. He grunted deeply when he pushed all the way inside her, his balls slamming against her backside. "Oh, sweet Merlin..."
He slumped onto his back when he was finished, having brought them both to orgasm. Tonks dressed quickly and turned on her side away from him. "Dora?" he asked quizzically, feeling the coldness radiating from her. He would have felt less alone in his own bed had she not been in it. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said coolly.
"Is it because of the sex?" he asked. "You came."
"You make your whores come, doesn't make them any less whores," Tonks countered.
"Don't be so vulgar," he snapped, deeply troubled that she felt like that... and at a loss as what to do about it. She didn't like sex with him – or at least, in order for her to like it, he had to restrain himself to a point he lost a lot of enjoyment. It was like they couldn't be happy on the same sexual wavelength, and naturally, he hadn't found this out until after they were married. "Did you ever like it? Did you like it the first time?" he asked. He had agreed to start seeing her, mostly because he was lonely and he didn't have the energy to fight her in his loneliness, and partly out of genuine attraction and feelings for her. They had consummated their relationship in a storage closet at St. Mungo's. He'd had to clamp his mouth over hers to stop her from screaming. He'd thought she'd loved every second of it, and now it turned out and had merely tolerated it because she loved him and didn't want him to reject her on the very reasonable basis of sexual incompatibility.
Now it turned out to be a lie, and he was furious to be trapped in this marriage based on a lie.
"You're my wife," he reminded her angrily. "You knew exactly what you were marrying. If you don't like it, file for annulment."
She turned to face him, her eyes wide with panic at the suggestion. "Remus, no – I love you."
"Then roll over."
"Remus, please – "
"Roll over or file for annulment," he snarled, determined to win this argument. She wanted to be his wife, she could goddamn satisfy him. He turned his head so he couldn't see her tears before she rolled her. "Good girl," he said, stressing the words with heavy condescension...
Lupin woke up with a start. The dream had been so vivid, like his earlier dreams when Tonks had first fallen, except those dreams had been full of holding hands and loving looks and shared moments of emotional intimacy when he had returned to her and accepted his responsibilities as a soon-to-be father. He had forgotten the power struggles between them when he had used her roughly in bed – or in the shower, or bent over the kitchen counter, wherever the desire struck him – and invariably won because she was madly in love with him and would put up with being treated like a whore if the alternative meant him leaving.
He felt sick, and conjured up a bin to throw up in. He had forgotten... or rather, he had chosen to forget. Who wanted to remember treating your wife like a prostitute? And she had been so in love with him that she had just taken it... he felt wracked with guilt to remember how badly he had treated her.
He conjured up a decanter of firewhisky. He couldn't remember the last time he had bothered with a glass; he needed to much too send him into blackout where she wouldn't haunt his dreams to bother with a glass...
Professor Horace Slughorn was strolling through the basement floors of Hogwarts the next morning when he came across Teddy Lupin, sitting on the floor outside the front door to the DADA rooms, crying forlornly. He thought quickly. Lupin had explained, apologetically but firmly, that Andromeda had made it clear that he was to have nothing to do with the boy. Slughorn had complied, partly out of genuine remorse for the way he had hurt his student all those years before and partly out of genuine fear for Andromeda should she find out that he'd disobeyed her instructions. But he was confident that ignoring a six-year-old locked out of his home and crying at the wrong side of the front door was outside the realm of a reasonable request.
He crouched awkwardly; he wasn't used to being a child-level. "What's up?" he asked, as kindly as he could manage.
Teddy had been told that Professor Slughorn had been mean to his grandmother, but right now, all he cared about was that a kindly adult had stopped to relieve him of his predicament. "Daddy wouldn't wake up so I went to breakfast except there was no-one there and I couldn't get back in," he sobbed.
"Breakfast isn't served in the Great Hall during summer break," Slughorn said kindly. He suspected the reason Lupin wouldn't wake up was because he was out cold from too much firewhisky – something he had taken to consuming a lot lately. "I can get you into the rooms." The charm on the front door was one easily performed by adult wizards and witches but beyond the abilities of students, let alone a six-year-old boy, even a precocious one like Teddy. He left Teddy in the front room, checked on Lupin – passed out from firewhisky, just as Slughorn had suspected – and returned to the little boy. "Tell you what, why don't you come and have breakfast with me?" he suggested.
Teddy looked doubtful. "Grandma says – "
"I know what your grandmother thinks of me, but I don't think she would mind if I made sure you had breakfast," Slughorn said. "We'll write your dad a note, and he can come and get you when he wakes up." Teddy thought about that seriously for a second, then decided Slughorn was making sense. He waited for the professor to write a note and followed him the short distance to the Potions rooms, to be greeted by –
"Doggies!" Teddy cried.
"That's right, I forgot, dogs don't like your dad," Slughorn recalled. At least of the regular domestic variety, they sensed the cursed canine that made up part of his physiology and got frightened of him; Slughorn's two English Toy Terriers – who seemed to take after their owner after some time, highly sociable but rather cowardly – tended to cower in fear whenever Lupin was around. Naturally, this had proved to be a huge disappointment to Teddy – what boy didn't want a pet dog? – and just as naturally, he had never been in Slughorn's rooms to discover the two canines. "You can play with them, they're friendly. The one with the bow is Emerald and the other one is Blackie."
"Like Grandma's name," Teddy said. "Before she married Grandpa." He plonked himself down in the synthesized outdoor area that Slughorn had charmed for the dogs. Emerald and Blackie took to him as much as they feared his father.
Slughorn had known that Teddy was a precocious boy, but hadn't realised how precocious. "That's right," he said. "I taught most of your family – I mean, they were in my house – and Heads aren't supposed to have favourites, but, well, they were mine," he admitted.
"Then how come Grandma hates you?" Teddy asked shrewdly.
"I didn't approve of her marriage," Slughorn admitted. Strange how you started talking to Teddy as if he were so much older than he was within minutes. "I was wrong, but she couldn't forgive me. It was my fault," he admitted. "I said some mean things that I shouldn't have."
"Like Audrey," Teddy said, and Slughorn took note of the fact that he called her by her Christian name, not be the title of great-grandma. "She said some mean things about daddy." Teddy's face screwed up in concentration as he tried to remember what Audrey had said. "What's pur-pur-" he attempted.
"It means she thinks your mum and dad shouldn't have married," Slughorn said delicately. "But she's wrong," he added sympathetically. "I taught your dad, you know – though he wasn't in my class. But he was very smart and a very good friend – he was a good husband and he's a very good dad. I know he loved your mum and she loved him."
"Really?" Teddy asked. People didn't like talking about his mum. Except Uncle Charlie, and he was in Romania all the time.
"Yeah. That's why he sleeps so much. He's very sad," Slughorn said, figuring it was kind of the truth. He was certainly drinking heavily since Tonks's death, so that constituted grief-stricken actions, didn't it?
"I don't like it. He doesn't play with me anymore," Teddy said sadly.
"Oh, s-Teddy," Slughorn said, cutting himself off before he addressed the boy as son, knowing instinctively he wouldn't like it. "He'll play with you again soon. He loves you so much. He'll remember how much he loves to play with you."
Teddy digested this, and seemed to take cheer from it. He sat down to breakfast with Slughorn. "I can't believe how much sugar you eat," Slughorn remarked.
"That's what Uncle Neville says," Teddy replied. Slughorn was torn between disapproval – it was a bad habit for Teddy to be calling his future professors Uncle Neville and Aunty Pomona – and a longing to be Uncle Horace to this bright, enchanting boy. "It's what dad eats."
"Your dad burns energy faster than humans," Slughorn said. "Mind you, your mum burned through energy, too. She was always in trouble. Your Uncle Charlie had a spotless record except when it involved her." Slughorn had left Hogwarts by the time Charlie and Tonks had come through, but he had kept track of Andromeda and her daughter through the years.
"We don't talk about mum and Uncle Charlie," Teddy said seriously. "It makes dad and Aunty Tess jealous." But he said it in a way that sounded like he wanted to hear more about it.
Soon much of the hours of the day had past and there was a knock on the door. It was Lupin. "Sorry, Teddy," he mumbled. There was a haunted look in his eyes that Teddy wasn't quite insightful enough to pick up on, and splotchiness in his skin that not even his healing abilities could rejuvenate fast enough. The man was drinking heavily, every night.
"Teddy, why don't you go and say goodbye to Emerald and Blackie," Slughorn suggested. "I'll stay in the hall with your dad so he doesn't scare them."
"Sissy dogs," Lupin mumbled under his breath.
"You want to talk?" Slughorn asked, ignoring the comment about his dogs.
"To you? No," Lupin said shortly.
"Your son was locked out of your rooms," Slughorn said. "I know you're in pain, Remus – "
"Don't," Lupin hissed. "Don't you dare talk to me about pain. You don't know a thing about it." He looked as though he was going to say something else, but stopped himself before he insulted Slughorn anymore. "Teddy!" he yelled. "It's time to go!"
"You can come visit the dogs anytime you like," Slughorn promised, gritting his teeth and letting Lupin's comments slide. "Remus, if you ever need a friend – "
"I'll go knock on Neville's door," Lupin said shortly. He knew Slughorn meant well, but he didn't want the man's sympathy – or worse, his pity. And there was nothing Slughorn – or anyone, for that matter – could do to assuage his guilt.
"You couldn't keep it in your pants, could you?" Tonks's face was right in his, jeering him, accusing him of a betrayal that went far deeper than infidelity. Telling him that the sex was bad enough, but to go and fall in love with someone young enough to be his daughter – as if she hadn't been young enough for him. They were the words her mother had used, only made him feel so much worse.
"I tried..." he said weakly.
"Oh, you tried," she scoffed. "I was so in love with you, and you repay me how exactly? By screwing a kid."
"I'm sorry..."
"Don't!" she screamed at him. "Don't – try – apologising now. You used me. You told me you loved me, you walked out on me, you made me do disgusting things, you cheated on me. You bastard, I wish I'd never met you."
"Dora – "
She struck him hard across the face. "I wish I'd never met you," she said again. "You made me miserable, and you'll only make her miserable."
Lupin bolted awake again and automatically groped for his firewhisky. "You don't need that," Charlie said.
"Yes, I do."
"It puts you in blackout."
"I like blackout. I don't have nightmares. And what the hell are you doing here?"
"Minerva asked me to come by. The general opinion is that you're drinking far too much. Remus, you can't do this to yourself. You can't do it to Teddy. Horace said he was locked out of the rooms because he couldn't wake you and went out by himself for breakfast. Please stop," he begged. It frightened him to see Lupin so quickly disintegrating into a drunken mess. "Do you want to talk?" he asked. "Tess and I are both worried about you."
"I was such a bad husband," Lupin blurted out. "I treated her like crap and walked out on her and generally made her miserable."
"She loved you, Remus," Charlie said. "I saw the way she looked at you. And you did the right thing by going back. That was all that mattered."
"I raped her," he blurted out.
"Ah. You raped her... or you guilted her into doing things she didn't want to?" Charlie asked. "Because that's not the same thing. I know, 'cos I did it to her a few times. She – I loved her, but she was so conservative about some things – y'know, given her personality. I felt like I was always pushing her. Did you sleep with her before you were married?" Charlie asked bluntly. Lupin nodded slightly. "So she knew what you were like, and she married you anyway. She has to take at least half the blame for your incompatibility."
"That doesn't change the fact I killed her," Lupin said.
"No. Bellatrix killed her," Charlie said.
"I wanted to be free – "
"Remus, that had nothing to do with it. Even if you said something to her – and I know you saw her the night she died – she didn't up and die just because you wanted out of the marriage. She wouldn't have left Teddy if she had a way of coming back to him. Don't be so fucking arrogant as to think she'd put your happiness so far ahead of his. If she left because of something you said, it was because she knew she wasn't coming back." But Charlie could tell that his words weren't getting through to him.
"Daddy, please don't drink that," Teddy pleaded. "It makes you mean." He wondered when his dad was going to start playing with him again like Slughorn had promised. All he did was drink the foul stuff that made him mean and sleep a lot. His world had been turned upside down. The mother he had never known had died without every speaking to him, ever holding him, and his dad was disintegrating in front of his eyes. He felt frightened and lost.
"Go away," Lupin said thickly. "Go find Neville and Luna. Go play with those stupid fucking dogs of Horace's."
"Daddy - " Teddy said beseechingly. He went up to try and give his dad a hug.
Lupin responded by pushing Teddy away violently, and for a werewolf 'violently' meant halfway across the room. He was too drunk to realise what he'd done as his son went screaming across the room, and returned to his firewhisky and the oblivion that it promise.
Teddy picked himself up, his arm throbbing where he had landed on it. He knew better than to go to his father for help. He left the rooms with some difficulty, using one arm, and went running towards the teacher's lounge where he hoped he would find more sympathetic adults than his father.
"Uncle Neville!" he sobbed, throwing himself into Neville's arms. Neville hoisted him up onto his hip, careful of his arm that was clearly broken from the awkward angle it hung at. Teddy wrapped his good arm around Neville's neck and buried his face into the side of his neck, sobbing brokenly, more out of shock that his father could hurt him than the pain of the broken arm itself.
"It's OK, kiddo, I'll take you to the hospital wing," Neville said. He fluttered his fingers awkwardly at McGonagall without loosening his hold of Teddy, indicating he wanted the Headmistress to follow him to the hospital wing. "You're safe now."
He carried Teddy to the hospital wing and eased him onto a bed. "What happened?" he asked kindly. Teddy bit on his lip and his eyes darted wildly around the room, clearly torn for a longing for the paternal sympathy Neville was offering and getting his dad into trouble – which only confirmed what Neville and McGonagall already suspected. "It's OK, Teddy, we want to do the best for you and your dad," he said, choosing his words carefully so he wasn't lying. "Did he hit you?"
"Pushed me," Teddy corrected tearfully. "I wanted him to stop drinking that red stuff and he told me to go away. Then he pushed me." He started to cry in earnest. "He didn't mean to," he said plaintively. "He and Aunty Tess are super-strong."
"I know, kiddo, but Charlie's an adult and Tess wasn't exactly the first time he broke a bone, you've seen him fly," Neville said dryly. Teddy started to cry harder, weather in response to the truth of Neville's words – that Tess and Charlie pushing each other around in the heat of passion was a lot different to Lupin pushing his son hard enough to break a bone while drunk – or just because he was in pain and shock, but it distressed Neville almost as much as it distressed Teddy. "It's going to be OK. You can stay with me and Luna tonight and... " he trailed off, looking to McGonagall for support, both as his and Lupin's boss and the closest thing to a mother either of them had known. It felt good to push his concerns up the food chain of command.
"I'll see about your dad," McGonagall said soothingly, her tone completely masking the fury and concern that the adults in the room could pick up on. "He's a very sick man."
"He never gets sick," Teddy sniffled.
"Not in his body, no. But he's sick and sad in his spirit – his soul. He's taken your mum's death very badly."
"Is there a cure?"
"I hope so."
"Remus Lupin, I have tolerated your behaviour since Nymphodora's death but it stops now. You are a danger when you're drunk and I don't think I've seen you sober since the funeral. You could have killed Teddy, do you realise that?" Lupin mumbled a vague apology; by the looks of it, he hadn't yet sobered up from last night's bender. "Remus, I'm sending you to a retreat in Nepal." It was an isolated community that dealt with these kinds of problems, mostly applying muggle solution of detox and emotional and psychological therapy. Because Merlin knew, no amount of magic was going to ease the pain and guilt that was haunting Lupin's heart and mind.
He suddenly looked very sober as his eyes bulged out in surprise and then fury at what he considered to be McGonagall's meddling interference. "Nepal!" he yelled. "I'm – not – going – to – Nepal. And I'm not going to your stupid retreat, either. You can't make me."
"No, I can't," McGonagall said. She had expected this response to her offer – and offer that most would consider rather generous, consider he had given her more than enough evidence to fire him, and didn't seem particularly inclined to put a halt to his actions. "But I can fire you, and throw you out of this castle, and give Andromeda all the evidence and testimony she needs to sue for sole custody," McGonagall said pleasantly.
Lupin's eyes glittered dangerously. "You wouldn't dare," he hissed.
"I would dare a lot for the sake of my students," McGonagall said. "And I won't watch Teddy grow up terrified that his dad will hurt him when he's been drinking. You go on this retreat and you sort yourself out, or say goodbye to your son and get the hell out of my castle."
Lupin didn't need to challenge McGonagall further to know that she was perfectly serious... and deep down, he knew he would have done the same thing if he was in her shoes. He was a danger to his students... and more importantly, his son. He shuddered to think that he had broken Teddy's arm and not even realised it. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"I know you are," McGonagall said sympathetically; it was why she was trying to help him rather than simply firing him. "And I know you're in an immense amount of pain and loaded down with guilt. And you need to work through that... without the firewhisky and with people who know how to help you." She remembered that Ted Tonks, of all people, had espoused the uses of muggle sciences like psychotherapy, and the more she learnt about the treatment of the mind through non-invasive procedures, the more she was inclined to agree with him.
"What about Teddy?" Lupin asked, and McGonagall was relieved, because if he was making sure his son would be taken care of properly in his absence, it meant he wasn't fighting the idea. Then, almost as an afterthought, "What about my job?"
"Andromeda will cover your classes," McGonagall said. "Teddy will stay with her here in the castle once the school year resumes, and with her or with the Longbottoms, whichever he prefers, until then." The little boy was seriously distressed by the loss of his mother – even a mother he had never known beyond an unconscious figure in a hospital bed – and further so by his father's drunk and abusive behaviour since Tonks's death. McGonagall felt – and Andromeda had reluctantly agreed, even if it could mean Teddy choosing the Longbottoms over her – that the boy should be given as much stability as could be afforded, including the option of staying at Hogwarts rather than being uprooted the live fulltime with his grandmother.
"Andromeda!" Lupin said indignantly. He had never given much thought to who else was qualified to take DADA, but immediately decided that his mother-in-law was not one of them. "Andromeda – "
"Is the Head Healer at St. Mungo's, and sees the consequences of Dark and Dangerous magic day in, day out," McGonagall said. "Everyone else remotely qualified is either too young or dead. And she loves her job too much to do yours as anything more than a favour to you. So you don't have to worry about your replacement not wanting to give the job back."
Lupin just stared into a random point on the wall for a long time, thinking, even though he knew he didn't have much say in the matter. As he'd sobered up, the realisation of what he'd done had chilled him to the bone. He knew he had been insulting and alienating his colleagues – largely because said colleagues were trying to help – but that wasn't nearly as bad as hurting his son. He was descending into alcohol-fuelled, guilt-and-grief-driven madness and he knew he needed something beyond the kindly words of colleagues to stop the decent, to reverse it. "OK," he agreed in a small voice.
"I'm sending your dad to a place where they specially deal in people who are sick in their spirits," McGonagall explained to Teddy. "Would you believe, thirty years ago, the magical community scoffed at such practices, but your grandad was a big believer in them?" she informed the little boy. Poor child, he looked torn between being pleased at such a thing and distraught that his father was leaving him.
Distress won. "He's leaving me," Teddy said. "Like mum."
"No, not like your mum," Neville said. "He's not going to die. He's going somewhere where he can get better."
"Can I say goodbye to him?" Teddy asked.
"I don't think that's a good idea," McGonagall said. "You see, he loves you very much – that's why he's going, so he can get better and be a proper dad again – but if he sees you, he might not want to leave." Teddy nodded, understanding even if the truth upset him deeply. "But the place he's going, he's allowed to write to you, and Charlie's generously allowed your dad to use his owl – you know Laya – she flies between England and Romania all the time, so a little trip to Nepal won't bother her."
"Who's going to take care of me?" was the next obvious question.
"Well, your grandmother's going to take your dad's classes when they resume, so you'll stay with her in the castle when that happens. Until then, you can choose where you stay. With her, or here with Neville and Luna."
"Uncle Neville and Aunty Luna," Teddy said promptly. It was what they had all expected – even Andromeda. It wasn't that he didn't love his grandmother, he did, but Hogwarts was his home, the only one he had known, barring his alternate weekends and summers with his grandmother, and he was always going to take the option that kept him at Hogwarts. Besides, he was fascinated by Cousin Alice, and all the sick and traumatised people at St. Mungo's scared him at times.
"Good boy," McGonagall said. Then, "I'm proud of you, Teddy. You're intelligent and brave. I know you can't see it much right now, but you're so much like your parents."
"Here, I got you some stuff for Teddy – just little token things for Diagon Alley, he's not going to know they're not from Nepal, or likely to care if he does," Neville said. "But I think it will mean the world to him if he gets things from you."
"I – thankyou," Lupin said simply, knowing it fell far short of the gratitude he owed Neville. "I haven't been much of a friend to deserve this," he admitted. It had been two days since he'd had anything to drink – which was more like a week to a human liver detoxing – and as he sobered up, he became more and more aware of how atrociously he had acted since Tonks's death.
"I understand more than you think I do," Neville said. Lupin looked sharply at him, but actually seemed interested in his explanation, so he continued. "I never understood why my parents couldn't come back to me – couldn't fight it," he said. "Until Alice was born and I know that if it was me and there was any way of coming back – human, magical, anything – I'd have done it... and so would they have. They didn't come back because they couldn't. So whatever you think you said or did had no bearing on her death. She'd have come back for Teddy and how that inconvenienced you would have been a spec in the distance on the list of her priorities after him."
Lupin gave a small smile. "I appreciate the sentiment, Neville, but that doesn't impact on my dreams. I see her all the time and it reminds me over and over of how badly I treated her. I don't like who I become and what I do when I drink so much, but I don't much like the dreams I have when I'm not in blackout, either."
"I wish there was something I could do," Neville said. Lupin had been the one person he could really talk to about his parents death, and he couldn't return the favour.
"There is. I couldn't do this without knowing that Teddy was in safe hands," Lupin said. "I don't deserve such good friends."
"Stop it, Remus. You deserve far more than you think you do. You always did." And maybe, Neville thought to himself, because he knew his friend was in no mindset to believe him, if you ever realise that, you mind get over this guilt and find happiness with Ginny. He knew his friend was suffering her own guilt and loss, and thought it was in everyone's interest if they could get past that and find each other again.
"Gone?" Ginny echoed dumbly. Where the hell was Nepal, anyway?
"It's this little strip between India and China," Charlie offered. "And he's not so much gone as sent away under threat of his job and son. He hasn't been doing well, Gin. He feels so guilty."
"What does he have to feel guilty about?" Ginny asked. "I was the one who wished her dead!"
"And how many times do you think he wished to be free of his marriage – which amounts to the same thing, as far as he's concerned? He didn't treat her that well, and he knows it," Charlie admitted. "They weren't very compatible, and now he's reliving every little thing he did wrong by her, no doubt exaggerated a thousand times in his head. You heard he broke Teddy's arm?"
"I thought that was just vicious gossip," she admitted.
"He's been drinking himself to blackout so he wouldn't dream about her," Charlie said. "It's why Minerva's sent him to some retreat in Nepal. Gin, I told you to let him come to you, and I meant it. But... I think – and Bill agrees, and I think Remus would agree – that you can't sit around all day, waiting for him to come back. He wouldn't want you to, and we certainly don't want you to. Please get out of the house, see other people."
"Will it get you off my case?" Ginny asked tiredly.
"Promise," Charlie said. No-one knew how long it would take for Lupin to return to something akin to normal – 'normalcy' being a subjective term post-war – and none of them wanted to see Ginny waiting for a day that might not come. If it happened, then it happened, but if she met someone else in the meantime, then all the better.
Ginny nodded. "Fine, if it means that much to you," she said flatly. All she could think about was that Lupin had left her once more. And she had no idea when he was coming back – if ever.