Prologue Part Three: No One Mourns the Wicke

George was gone for day again. 'He's always gone,' reflected Elaine. It made cheating on him all too easy. Last week there was the rather handsome deliveryman and the week before that it was the milkman. Both were your basic blue-collared young men just starting out in the world. Neither of them had had any real chance once she had sashayed towards them.

"So young and naive…" sighed Elaine. She needed a real challenge now. The now and again shag wasn't nearly enough. She wanted something that would shake up her life a little. After six years of marriage and the last three with a child, she thought that she deserved some excitement.

Hermione was a little terror. She would refuse to play with any of the other children and would bite people when things didn't go her way. She wouldn't settle down and watch television or do any of the normal things children would do. All day long she would sit in George's study against the wall looking a book and occasionally turning its pages. It was quite disconcerting to Elaine, who already had enough trouble relating to her daughter.

The doorbell rang and Elaine perked up hopefully. Maybe it was the milkman back for another go… She opened the door instead to the most gorgeous male creature she had ever seen.

He was about six feet tall, with adorably shaggy brown hair that was streaked with grey. His amber eyes were wolfish and wild, peeking out from underneath thick lashes. The stranger's face was marked with worry lines that just seemed to scream with a dangerous man with a story to tell. In a word—irresistible.

"Hello, ma'am. I was wondering if you could please spare a glass of water? I've been walking for a long time and all I require is to sit on the steps. I promise I won't do—"

Elaine cut off his well-practiced pleading. "Nonsense! Come on in!" She ushered him inside and brought his suitcase inside for him.

"Where are you headed towards?" she asked as she got him a glass of water.

"St. Bees, ma'am," he said. He stood in the middle of the living room with his legs spread apart and hands behind his back.

"Please sit, and please, call me Elaine." She guided him towards the couch and sat next to him, close enough to make him alert, but not too close to make him uncomfortable.

"But that's so far away!" she continued. "That's a two day drive! And you're walking there? May I ask why—oh I'm sorry, I've never asked your name!"

"My name is Remus Lupin," he extended his hand and they shook. Instead of letting go of his hand however, she flipped it over and traced a gash on the palm of his hand. She peered closer at the cut and saw it: a small trace of blue healing potion spread near the edges.

"Remus, would you mind if I mended this for you? Your healing potion doesn't seem as if it's doing that much good…" she trailed off as she inspected the wound further. She felt him stiffen under her gentle grasp.

"Healing potion?" his voice nearly cracked.

"Yes, Remus. I'm a decent enough witch, you know," Elaine told him.

"Oh, thank Merlin," he exhaled. "Well then, I guess you know why I'm moving to St. Bees then: the new registration laws." He winced as she moved her wand over the gash.

"You're a werewolf?" she queried.

"Yes," he said a bit apprehensively. "Don't worry I'll be out of here if you—"

"My cousin was a werewolf," she told him. "Very nice chap. You don't have to worry, I'm not the least bit prejudiced."

"Oh." His voice was soft and wondering. "Is that your daughter?" he jerked his head in Hermione's direction; she had come out from the study to observe this new visitor.

"Yes," Elaine sighed as she put the finishing touches on Remus' wound. "Her name is Hermione. Let me know if she bites you, we're trying to get her to stop doing that."

Hermione toddled over to Remus and put her hand on his knee and used it to steady herself as she looked up into his eyes. Elaine couldn't believe what happened next: Hermione raised her arms up to Remus, who scooped her up and cuddled her close to him.

Elaine had to push her jaw up from shock. Her mind formulated a new plan quickly. She had to get Remus to stay with them, for her and Hermione's sakes. George wouldn't object—he loved charity cases and what better charity case was there? Werewolves were lower than dirt nowadays, and because of the new laws they had two options, go live with the all-werewolf community on the outskirts of St. Bees, or stay with a family who could vouch for him. St. Bees was an awful place and it was so far away, surely he would want to stay here?

"Remus, you are surely remarkable," Elaine began slowly. "I've never seen Hermione take to someone like that. She would have rather starved than let me pick her up to feed her."

"She seems so sweet. Your husband must love her." He looked up at her with accusing eyes. She gulped. So she wasn't the only one who had been thinking about that.

"No, he doesn't," she said flatly. "He refuses to have anything to do with me or Hermione nowadays. He blames me for how she's turned out." She smiled bitterly. "George comes home once or twice a week now."

"But he has nothing to do with what I want to ask you. Remus, I know that laws and I know that you can either live with a Wizarding family or at St. Bees. I want you to stay here." Elaine raised her chin defiantly. "I don't care what George thinks, or says, I want you to stay with us, Hermione and I. I already see how much we need you. How much I want you. Please, Remus, we've just met but I feel like we can be happy again if you would just…stay."

"I'm poor, I'm dangerous, and I've been shunned so often I've forgotten what it's like to be a friend. What could I possibly offer you?" he protested. "The offer you make is so generous, and I would very so much like to accept it, but Elaine…" He set Hermione back on the floor and she wobbled back to the study. He spread his arms out wide. "I have nothing except for the clothes on my back and the books in that bag."

"It doesn't matter. You can help me look after Hermione; she needs a father figure in her life. And God knows what a waste I am at motherhood." She smirked, "I'm better at making them, then looking after them, if you know what I mean."

He blushed, as she had hoped he would and she moved closer to him. She tentatively raised her hand to his face and traced one of the thin scars there. He turned his face towards her, questions rising and dying on his lips before they could come forth.

Elaine raised her other hand up to his face, so she was cupping his face in her hands. Slowly, so not to scare him, she cautiously brought her lips to his. He welcomed the kiss, and so she made to deepen it. This simple act seemed to bring him over the edge. Elaine was always told that she made men go crazy and Remus was no exception. He flipped her over on the couch, so she was trapped underneath him and kissed her forcefully and firmly.

Elaine knew then that Remus would be there to stay.

The sun was hot overhead and the mention of ice cream made Elaine's mouth water, so she agreed to watch Hermione for an hour as Remus went to the store. Hermione had become so accustomed to Remus that she was extremely unhappy with this turn of events and was very cross with her mother. Elaine was unhappy also. She was pregnant again, and like last time, the baby was not George's.

George had been extremely welcoming to Remus, and being the blind idiot he was, had no qualms with letting Remus and Elaine live alone. Together. With no chaperones. Needless to say, he made it ridiculously easy for them to carry on their affair behind his back. At least this time, Elaine was one hundred percent sure that the baby was Remus'. She had found out within two days since the conception (she took these tests almost every day so she could know when she should "do it" with George to keep him from becoming suspicious that the child was not his) and because she hadn't been with George two days ago, it had to be Remus.

Elaine was glad that the child was Remus'. She loved Remus with all her heart. Remus was everything George wasn't—a great lover who was sensitive to her needs; a father who loved Hermione, who wasn't even his child, without abandon; and a man who was always there for her. Elaine knew that this wasn't fair to George, but personally, she felt that he wasn't being very fair to her. Ever since George had found out she was a witch sometime after the honeymoon, he had become distant. Elaine thought that he must feel as if he had been cheated. He had married what he had thought was his dream girl—Elaine was gorgeous, religious, kind, and funny. He thought that they would never fight, have tons of children and she would live happily ever after in a small English town.

But in his quest for his perfect life, he had forgotten about Elaine's hopes and dreams. Elaine didn't want to live her life as a church wife—she was a highly ambitious and intelligent witch. She skipped church on Sundays, she was unfriendly to the women in the town, and her jokes were sometimes cruel and bitter. The fact that she was a witch made her the worst sin of all, something that she highly suspected George felt bitter about it. They had almost gotten their marriage annulled after she had told him, but they managed to make a compromise. George would be accepting, as long as she lived according to his lifestyle. That meant moving from London to Jamestown, giving up her job at the Ministry of Magic to become a housewife, and substitute Poker night for Bingo night at the church.

'Almost silly, how far I've fallen,' she thought as she watched Hermione play on the lakeshore. 'I've gone from London socialite to a suppressed house-wife having an affair with a werewolf!' She wanted to howl with laughter at the thought, but she was wary of disrupting Hermione. She had just calmed her down and Hermione looked almost like a normal child playing out in the sand. Thankfully, she had already picked up a bit of a color. She was becoming too pasty from spending all those hours in the study.

She sighed and got up from the sandy towel she was sitting on. She should probably play with Hermione for a while. Get her used to her own mother again. Elaine walked down slowly to where Hermione was sitting, not wishing to startle her. Hermione glanced up at Elaine as she approached. 'She is a very intelligent three-year-old' Elaine thought as she sat down next to Hermione. Hermione had needed almost no instruction growing up, other than in the manners category. Elaine had only to show her a few times that she should use the small toilet to do her business in rather than her diaper before Hermione had caught on. Remus had confided in her that he thought that Hermione had taught herself how to read. But if she had, they had no idea of knowing because Hermione refused to talk.

Hermione stopped building her sandcastle and pointed to the small rowboat shored some meters away.

"You want to go out?" Elaine asked. Hermione nodded and Mrs. Granger scooped her up and carried her on her hip. To her relief, Hermione did not protest or bite her the entire way there. She put Hermione on the floor of the rowboat and hiked her skirt up to her knees. Grunting, she pushed the rowboat into the water and heaved her very pregnant self into the boat once it was afloat.

"Right, now, Hermione. Let's see, mummy's got to find a way to row this thing." Elaine looked around for some paddles and spotted some on the floor of the boat. She put the oars in the water and began to row the boat out into the middle of the lake. When she thought that they had gone far enough, she put down the oars and wiped the sweat from her brow.

Hermione was looking over the edge of the boat curiously. She was leaning so far out that Elaine had to shift her weight to the other side to keep the boat even.

Elaine was enjoying the serenity of their surroundings, when Hermione suddenly lurched forward and fell into the water. Terror seized her heart. What would Remus say when she had to bring back Hermione's small body… No. She mustn't think that.

She had to think fast. She couldn't swim—she was too pregnant and she wasn't a good swimmer to start with. She rushed over to Hermione's side of the boat and almost tipped it over. Elaine reached in with one arm and miraculously managed to pull Hermione out of the water.

She wasn't breathing. Hermione panicked. Not caring whether or not anyone saw them, she whipped out her wand and the boat sped to shore within seconds. With Hermione in her arms, she ran to the house and placed her on top of the kitchen counter. After trying several times unsuccessfully to wake her, Hermione dug through her potions cabinet and pulled out a small blue bottle labeled "Miracle Elixir."

Elaine nearly shoved the bottle down her throat, and it wasn't until Hermione started crying that she let the child stop drinking it. Remus rushed in right as she regained consciousness, and a teary-eyed Elaine had to explain to him what had happened to his precious child. Remus' lips tightened at her carelessness, but he said nothing about her poor parenting skills and instead he made them dinner. They all curled up in Hermione's bedroom on her bed. Elaine read Hermione's favorite stories aloud as the three of them snuggled together and ate.

Hermione fell asleep quickly. As Remus tucked her in, Elaine watched from the doorway and thought, 'This is how it should be.'

"Push, God damn it, Elaine!"

Elaine was suffering through her second childbirth. Unlike the last time, she was in a hospital and she had a lover's hand to hold. But like last time, the child was not George's, and George was not there.

"I'm pushing!" she snapped. "Don't tell me how to have this baby, Remus John Lupin!"

He wisely shut up after that.

The baby was finally born after many hours of complications and fancy words that Elaine was too tired to comprehend. What she did know, is that she had delivered a perfectly healthy little girl whom she named Rose.

"This is life, Remus," she whispered happily in her lover's ear as they nestled together on the hospital bed. "Congratulations, you're a father."

"Really?" he murmured happily. "I can't believe it. I don't mean it like that—I trust that the baby is mine, but she's such a miracle. She's our little miracle." He traced her cheek with his pinkie and Rose yawned.

"I never thought that I would be a father one day," he confided in Elaine. "I'm too poor, too old, too dangerous. And even though what we have isn't normal, I wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world."

"I wouldn't either," she whispered and kissed him softly. The three of them fell asleep in bliss.

"Hermione, put your books in that box there, okay?" Mrs. Granger instructed her. They were busy packing for their relocation from the town of Jamesville to the werewolf community of St. Bees. The move had been George's idea. He had taken Remus' plight so seriously that he considered it his personal duty to "save" all the poor werewolves wallowing in poverty. So, he had decided to move the family over there. Remus and Elaine had hated the idea at first, but after Rose's accident, they had decided that a change of scenery would be good for Rose, who was still terrified of cars.

Hermione was rather indifferent to the move. She cared only about the well being of Rose. She was a rather serious child of nine years. The birth of her sister had calmed her down quite a bit and she made huge advancements into becoming "normal" but she was still wary of all strangers and had a tendency to hide or lash out those who did not know her that well. She was also absolutely terrified of water. Elaine had to scrub her down with baby oil and perform the Scourgify charm on her in order to bathe her. She could stand water in small amounts, but any amount bigger than what was required to fill a pot was a challenge. Elaine and Remus had consulted with a Healer who had told them that the bottle of miracle tonic was to blame, but there wasn't anything else they could've done to save her.

But it was good that Hermione was so attached to Rose, for Rose needed the help. When she was six years old, Rose had been in a car accident and lost the use of her legs. Remus had been devastated, but they had pulled through it, and now the sight of Rose pushing herself along in her chair was as common as Hermione screaming in fear of a puddle.

Elaine stopped carting boxes to the car and tied her hair up into a ponytail. George had gone ahead earlier that day to tidy the house and move the furniture in. Hopefully, no one had robbed or killed him yet. The stupid prick was so ignorant of the poverty and violence that went on in St. Bees. Elaine was terrified. What if Hermione or Rose, her precious Rose, were killed?

Finally, everything was packed up into the truck and the Granger family left everything and everyone they knew behind.

The best way to describe their new home was, "fixer-upper." It was little more than four walls and a roof, truthfully. It was raining horribly when they arrived and Elaine had to spend ten uncomfortable minutes with Hermione in the car, getting her so bundled up that the child couldn't see out from all of her wrappings. They hurried her inside only to find that the rain wasn't any better inside. It leaked from almost every point of the house imaginable.

Remus sighed and trudged back out into the mud and rain to go help George patch up the roof. Elaine found a dry spot in the empty house for Hermione and Rose and deposited them there with some books, stuffed animals, and a few building blocks to keep them occupied.

Once outside, Elaine performed some water repelling charms in the air so that there was a bubble of air that stretched from the front door to the moving truck. A few levitation charms brought all the furniture inside the house, which had finally stopped leaking. Remus came in and rubbed his chilled hands together.

"Nothing a few handy-man Charms couldn't fix," he told Elaine and kissed her on the head. "George is at the neighbor's house helping him patch up their roof at the moment. I expect he'll be gone all night," he suggested with a mischievous smile.

"It's going to take him forever to do it without magic," Elaine chuckled gleefully and stepped closer to Remus. His arms snaked around her waist she smiled in pleasure as he kissed down her neck.

George would never know.