Note: Beginning tomorrow, I am going to be much busier than before. Next week it is my birthday, and, amongst other things, I will also be registering at University. So, I apologize if updates begin to slow down in the near future.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I making any profit from this piece of writing.

17: Crying Over Spilt Milk

Breakfast had never been a more awkward affair.

It was quite possibly the worst morning that Carrie Winters could ever recall experiencing. And yet it had not been a patch upon the night before hand when Mrs. Lupin had caught her eavesdropping upon the stairs. Carrie had felt quite frightened at the sight of the witch staring up at her from the hallway, she had flinched in anticipation of the complete and utter fury that she had been sure would follow. But then something unexpected had happened. Teddy's mother had made her way slowly up the stairs, reached to put an arm around Carrie's shoulders and whispered:

"Come on, Carrie love. Back to bed."

And then, to Carrie's numb disbelief, she had simply led Carrie back into Teddy's bedroom and tucked her back into bed. As the blankets had been arranged carefully around her, Carrie had found herself compelled to say something, because the silence was all a bit too much for her to bear. She did not know exactly what she should say, but for some reason as she stared up at the witch's blank mask of concentration tarnished by distinctly watery eyes, she found herself admitting:

"I know he's a werewolf."

She supposed she had wanted to say something truthful, to do something honest to prove that she wasn't just a nosy little intruder who liked to poke her nose into other people's business.

Her revelation caused Mrs. Lupin to pause in her meticulous arranging of blankets for a brief moment, her face grew cautious and she asked:

"How do you feel about that?"

Carrie had pursed her lips together in thought and recalled again what she had said when Teddy had posed a similar question. Looking at the carefully composed yet rather fragile expression upon Mrs. Lupin's face, she suspected that this question would require a similar answer. So she ignored the very images in her mind that had led her to be awake at such an hour in the first place.

"It doesn't bother me." she decided, and she had hoped Mrs. Lupin would look relieved or pleased to hear it.

But instead, to the child's panic, tears had began to seep from the witch's eyes, hastily swiped away upon the back of her sleeve.

"Your a good girl." Mrs. Lupin had whispered, rising hurriedly from her crouched position beside the makeshift bed, and Carrie had desperately attempted to decipher what it was about her answer that had reduced the witch to tears. It was not until Mrs. Lupin had disappeared back out of the door that Carrie remembered that she still needed a drink of water. But she had not dared to get out of bed again to fetch one.

When she had stood in the bathroom the next morning, watching Teddy squeeze toothpaste onto his brush, Carrie had told him that she had told his mother what she knew.

"I told her it doesn't bother me...but she didn't seem very glad..."

"Did she start crying?" Teddy asked as he squinted at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"A bit..."

"Yeah. She does that sometimes. Just ignore her." As he offered her the toothpaste, Teddy explained: "Mum has two reactions to what people think about Dad. If he bothers them then she gets mad, and if he doesn't bother them she cries."

"Why?"

"Because she's mental, maybe? I don't know."

Carrie had felt relieved that Teddy seemed to be acting reasonably normal despite the events of the night before, but then she had found herself following him down to breakfast and she had instantly wished that she could just leave and go home.

They had entered the kitchen to find a grey-faced Mr. Lupin sat hunched in a chair, mug of coffee clasped in both hands. Carrie could not quite decide whether or not he was staring at her as she walked in, or at the wall behind her, and she immediately began to wonder if Mrs. Lupin had told him about her shameful spying the night before.

"You look rubbish, Dad." Teddy had observed as he padded over to the cereal cupboard to find himself some breakfast. He was right, Carrie saw as she trailed after him. The werewolf's eyelids seemed heavy from lack of sleep and exhaustion weighed him down with dark circles beneath his eyes. He was still dressed in the crumpled clothes he had worn the day beforehand. Carrie wondered if he had ever gotten around to going to bed.

When Mrs. Lupin stumbled into the kitchen a few minutes later and made a bee line for the coffee upon the stove, Carrie had decided that going to bed and sleeping were probably two entirely different things. The muggle soon had her attention glued upon her cereal bowl, however, after Mrs. Lupin had wished her a good morning and she was almost certain that the witch had exchanged a look with her husband before he disappeared behind the morning newspaper.

The adults did not speak a word to one another for some ten minutes, and Carrie found herself convinced that, despite the newspaper held up before him, Teddy's father was still staring in her direction.

"Molly's expecting you this morning." Mrs. Lupin announced as she dusted toast crumbs from her fingertips.

"Mm."

"She says she'll come and drag you into the floo if you don't show up."

"Mm."

"You should probably put some fresh clothes on before you go, you know?"

"Mm."

"Remus? Are you actually listening to me?"

Teddy sniggered into his cereal bowl and Carrie could scarcely believe that he could think the whole atmosphere was amusing in the slightest. Then again, she thought dully as she shoveled cornflakes into her mouth, Teddy didn't know quite what she did.

"I was wrong, Carrie." the boy announced as Mrs. Lupin reached to snatch the newspaper out of her husband's hands, leaving him to stare at her, expression mildly outraged. "I have met a zombie!"

"Tea. At Molly's. On time, or else! Got it?" Mrs. Lupin summarized impatiently, and Carrie feared she might reach across the table and throttle him when Mr. Lupin informed her:

"I heard you the first time."

"Sweet Merlin..." the witch grumbled, shooting her son's laughter a filthy look before throwing the Daily Prophet down upon the table and getting to her feet.

Despite the looks that she was still convinced had been directed at her throughout the whole event, Carrie had thought that, overall, Teddy's parents had manage quite a successful facade at first, considering that whilst watching their rowing the night before Carrie had been considering the idea that the marriage Mrs. Lupin had shouted about might not last all that much longer. She considered it again when the facade began to show noticeable cracks as, his reading disturbed, Mr. Lupin leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest and inquired:

"Were you planning on going into work looking like that?"

"Oh yes." Mrs. Lupin told him as she poured herself a second mug of coffee, seemingly forgetting that Carrie and Teddy were in the room. "Because miniskirts are the height of practicality when chasing after Dark Wizards. I was thinking of some stiletto heels, too."

"You are going to work today, aren't you?"

"And then, once I've tripped and broken my ankle, you can have the pleasure of picking me up from Mungo's this afternoon. How's that sound, love?"

"You're not going, are you?"

"Of course I'm not bloody going, Remus!"

"Why not?"

"I've owled in sick."

"You're not sick."

"Obviously not."

"You're skiving."

"Your powers of deduction astound me, love."

Carrie felt her cheeks warming, embarrassed as Mr. Lupin pursed his lips together against whatever retort came to mind.

"And your flawless reasoning for setting Ted such a sparkling example is...?"

"I knew you wouldn't approve and I wanted to irritate you. More importantly, I'm going to my mum's house."

Carrie could not help but muse that this was the sort of thing that she'd seen on those soap operas her friend Stephanie back in Tillbury had liked to watch on the television; couples screaming at each other until they were blue in the face, before the woman would storm dramatically to the front door and, flinging the door open wide, shriek: I'm going to my mother's!

The Lupins were not nearly as melodramatic. Indeed, Mr. Lupin simply reached for the newspaper again and disappeared behind it, muttering:

"Suit yourself."

They did not speak another word to one another whilst Carrie was in the house.

Which was not a particularly long period of time, because Carrie chose to make her escape as soon as Teddy had finished slurping the milk from the bottom of his cereal bowl.

She spent the following few days at Cleo's house, watching DVDs including the Wizard of Oz, Bed Knobs and Broomsticks and The Witches. Carrie had never seen The Witches before, but she found herself taking little notice of the plot, for she was too busy wondering if Teddy would notice she was avoiding him. She felt guilty about her decision to keep her distance from her best friend, but she was much too embarrassed to have been caught eavesdropping on his parents to risk being invited into their house again. She didn't want to admit to Teddy what she had done, either. Besides, her magical neighbors just didn't seem all that magical anymore. No longer did she long to escape from the dull, boring world of her own house to the exciting, perfect world next door.

She'd been wrong. It was a lie. The Lupins were not perfect in the slightest.

She felt judgmental for thinking such a thing, for she was sure she could not even begin to comprehend what sort of impact being a werewolf could have on a marriage, or any aspect of life for that matter. They had more right than most to have a few bad days like everybody else. The only conclusion that Carrie could reach was that Teddy had been wrong to lend her his Gryffindor scarf on the last day of school, because clearly she wasn't brave or courageous in the slightest. She wasn't brave enough to bite the bullet and carry on regardless.

When she woke up on the fourth day, however, Carrie was to find that she could only hide for so long, because at some point she needed to do what was right.

Hiding wasn't right. Especially when she stepped out of her front door, ready to head over to Cleo's house again, only to find all three Lupins on their driveway.

Their distinctly silver-looking driveway.

As Carrie pulled the door shut behind her, watching Mr. Lupin dump a familiar looking bucket down upon the gravel, Teddy caught sight of her and she offered him a wave.

Teddy turned his back on her.

He's noticed, Carrie thought dully, biting her lip for a moment before drawing in a deep breath and striding over towards the family as confidently as she could manage.

"Hi Ted!" she greeted enthusiastically, and though the two adults paused in their discussion to murmur surprisingly warm hellos, Teddy merely eyed her coldly.

"I lodged the complaint days ago," Mrs. Lupin was saying as she and Mr. Lupin turned their attention back to the silver stain upon their drive. "Bloody pen pushers, they're useless, they probably won't even write back to me until after Christmas."

"I should have set the wards at the bottom of the drive." Mr. Lupin mused, looking down at the bucket with a frown. "It should soak off, don't you think? That's going to cost a small fortune in cleaning fluid."

"Ah well," the witch sighed heavily, lips pursed together in consideration. "There might be an easier way, you know. We could ask Molly, she's bound to know something useful."

The look on Mr. Lupin's face suggested that this was quite possibly the worst suggestion he had ever heard, and, fearing drama, Carrie was quite glad when she felt Teddy grab hold of her by the arm and drag her back towards her own driveway.

She was less glad when they came to an abrupt halt and, folding his arms firmly across his chest, Teddy had asked:

"What do you want?"

"I was just saying hello." Carrie mumbled, taking a small step away from him at the sound of his blunt question. "Like I always do..."

"Not anymore you don't." Teddy accused, eyes widening challengingly, and Carrie felt her heart sinking.

"Well...well I do...I did just now..."

"You've not so much as glanced my way in days, you haven't knocked like you usually do and you ignored me when I called over the fence to you yesterday!"

"I didn't hear you..."

"You're a liar."

"I'm not! I've been at Cleo's house, if I thought you'd get so upset I'd have invited you too. Besides, it's only been a few days..."

"I doubt you would invite me. You're probably lying again. You do it all the time. You even lied to me about my dad."

Glancing nervously over his shoulder at the man in question, Carrie swallowed hard.

"I don't know what you're talking about." she admitted, biting her lip when Teddy gave a snort of disbelief.

"Shall I remind you?" he asked, scowling faltering a little as his shoulders slumped dejectedly. "You said you didn't care what he was, that it didn't bother you!"

"It doesn't." Carrie insisted truthfully, but this only seemed to upset Teddy further.

"Why don't you just tell the truth, Carrie?" he cried, and behind him his parents paused in their own disagreement to look over at the two children. "It DOES bother you! If it didn't you wouldn't be avoiding me like the bloody dragon pox!"

"Theodore..." both parents began in warning, but Teddy did not seem to take any notice of them.

"I TRUSTED YOU!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in emphasis, hands balling into frustrated fists. "You're the only one I ever told, I thought you were different but you're NOT! Well you're WRONG! You're WRONG about him..."

"That will do, Ted." Mr. Lupin insisted, and Carrie felt more mortified than ever when the boy rounded on his father and cried:

"SHUT UP, Dad! I'm trying to stand up for you!"

Silence fell like a lead balloon upon the driveway, and as his mother's jaw dropped in astonishment and his father's eyes widened in shock, Teddy shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his shoes in misery at his slip up.

"What did you just say...?" Mrs. Lupin finally asked, voice a pitch higher than usual as her son hunched his shoulders. "Did you...did you honestly just tell your FATHER to SHUT UP?"

"Dora..." Mr. Lupin mumbled, and Carrie bit her lip in anticipation as she watched the witch purse her lips firmly together as if struggling to suppress her outrage.

Teddy shuffled back a step, eyes still fixated upon his shoes.

"I suggest, Theodore," his father began, in a tone that made Carrie sure that there was no real suggesting about it, "that you stop trying to stand up for me, and try having a some respect instead."

"Yes Dad." Teddy whispered, eyes still upon the ground, and at that very moment the door to Carrie's house opened and Mrs. Winters appeared upon the front step.

"Is everything alright out here? I heard raised voices..." Carrie's mother called, and Carrie plastered a neutral expression onto her face, though she was not entirely sure why.

"Perfectly alright." Mr. Lupin assured his neighbor, eying his son meaningfully as he explained: "Teddy was just about to apologize to Carrie, weren't you Teddy?"

When Teddy turned to her and offered a profound apology, Carrie could not be quite sure whether or not he was being sincere, but she smiled at him all the same.

"Come in, Teddy." Mrs. Lupin called, walking briskly towards their front door. "I want a word with you."

Carrie could have sworn that she heard Teddy gulp as he obediently set off after his mother. The muggle wished that her own mother would stop nodding her approval and go back inside the house.

Instead, Mrs. Winters wandered further outside and began asking nosy questions about the state of the Lupins' driveway. As Mr. Lupin began to lie about what he suspected had happened, Carrie made her escape up off the road, drawing her coat firmly around her.

Carrie did not confide in Cleo that she was afraid her best friend now hated her. She was worried that the other muggle might make some sort of vague, unhelpful comment such as Oh well, he'll get over it, because Carrie wasn't sure that she would be able to stand words so dismissive. This was serious, worrying, downright tragic. If Cleo failed to realise it, Carrie would probably say something she would regret and then she wouldn't even have an almost-best-friend either.

To Carrie's surprise, it was Cleo who mentioned Teddy first. They had just retreated inside from the front garden because Cleo had spotted Amanda Goyle and her big brother walked down the street towards them.

"You do realise your friend Teddy is pals with those bullies, don't you?" the dark haired girl said accusingly as she hurried to close the front door firmly behind them.

Carrie had found herself feeling quite offended.

"He most certainly is not!" she had cried, and Cleo had snorted and, kicking off her shoes, muttered:

"That's not what I've heard."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Carrie asked as she reached to unbuckle her own shoes and put them neatly against the wall.

"The Goyles and the Lupins are old friends." Cleo explained, rolling her eyes as if it were terribly obvious. "Mr. Goyle used to go to school with Mr. Lupin, or something."

"How do you know that?" Carrie said, failing to point out that this was quite possibly the most ridiculous story that she had ever heard.

"That's what Mr. Goyle said." Cleo led the way into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge.

"You think Amanda Goyle and her family are the worst people imaginable!" Carrie pointed out as she stopped just inside the doorway, arms folded defensively across her chest.

"They are." Cleo agreed distractedly, extracting two small bottles of strawberry milkshake from the fridge with silent triumph.

"Well then how do you know what Mr. Goyle does and doesn't say? If you hate the family so much you don't talk to them, do you?"

"Of course I don't talk to them..." Cleo mumbled as she set the bottles upon the counter top and pushed the fridge door shut.

"Then how do you know?" Carrie pressed, irritated on such an irrational attack upon the Lupins' character.

"I don't usually talk to them." Cleo corrected as she walked over to offer Carrie a milkshake. When Carrie simply stared at her, eyes growing steadily wider, she pushed the bottle into her hand.

"What do you mean you don't usually?" Carrie managed to ask at last, heart hammering in her chest as she finally consented to closing her fingers around the cool plastic bottle.

"Mr. Goyle was at the Christmas Fair with Amanda." Cleo recalled, expression distinctly uncomfortable at the memory as she wandered to look absentmindedly out of the window. "They came over to me when I was looking at the sweet stand. He said he'd seen you with Mr. Lupin and Teddy, he wanted to know how you came to be friends with them..."

"And you said?"

"Well I said you lived next door to them, obviously, and he said he wanted to drop in on them or something...he said he hadn't seen Mr. Lupin for years, he hadn't realised they lived so close to one another and he'd like to go and visit, catch up or whatever. He asked for the address, so I told him..."

"WHAT?" the bottle slipped from Carrie's hand, yet she barely registered it hitting the floor, milkshake splattering out over the floor, running in tiny streams along the gaps between the tiles. "What did you go and do that for?"

"I know," Cleo muttered, turning to frown at the mess that Carrie had made. "I figured I didn't really want to talk to him at all if I could help it, but he just walked off and struck up a conversation...I was so confused I just sort of went along with it...he's dead creepy looking, you know, it was a bit scary...I'll get you a cloth."

"Oh no!" Carrie shrieked, reaching to grasp clumps of her hair in agitation. "Do you have any idea how terrible this is?"

The completely uncomprehending stare that Cleo fixed Carrie with was clear confirmation that no, she had no idea whatsoever. By the time Cleo opened her mouth to tell Carrie that she was being slightly hysterical and more than a little silly her words fell on deaf ears as Carrie appeared to have burst into tears.

"It's all my fault!" she cried, eyes screwed shut in complete mortification.

Cleo frowned deeply as she went to stoop down, cloth in hand.

"For goodness sake, Carrie!" she grumbled as she began to soak up the puddle. "There's no point crying, its just a bit of spilt milk!