Note: This chapter is dedicated to TrueNorth and FrayaMarloWoulds, for being new faces, and for being wonderfully flattering too! Thank you very much, and welcome to the mad house! :-)

There are some references to earlier 'fics in this chapter – but they are a little on the cryptic side so will be baffling rather than spoilers!

This is the last thing that I will be posting before I return to University! Regrettably updates for all of my stories will be few and far between for the foreseeable future. Sorry about that, everybody!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

7: Guardian Human Beings

The voices, so hushed to begin with, were growing steadily louder, steadily more irate, and as she stood, stooping to press her eye to the keyhole of the door, Carrie Winters found herself holding her breath.

"You must tell her!" the muggle heard Edwin exclaim, sounding extremely agitated indeed as he continued to pace back and forth before the kitchen table. "You must demand it!"

As his wife sat beside him eying the pacing man's stalking progress with a deeply weary expression, Remus drew in a deep, careful breath before calmly explaining:

"I'm afraid I have no right to demand Carrie do anything, Edwin..."

"You sent her to her bedroom well enough!" Samuel observed with a scowl, only for Edwin to stop his pacing abruptly to snap:

"Samuel!"

"But he did! If he can send her to her room, why can't he tell her not to go waltzing off over there to get molested by those perverts?" When Dora turned to stare at him, appalled, the young man folded his arms firmly across his chest and snapped: "What? It's the truth! Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?"

Carrie waited for Edwin to scold his son again for being so rude for a second time, but instead a rather expectant silence descended over the room.

For a horrified moment, Carrie screwed her eyes shut.

Merlin, how awful, she thought miserably, what a terrible, terrible scene! She had expected a rather frosty reception at the dinner table that evening, but nothing quite like this. She'd very nearly run to hide in her room when Remus had suggested she get an early night just a few minutes earlier, and though she was still glad to have a solid wooden door between herself and those accusing stares, Carrie did feel dreadful for Remus and Dora still sat at the table, bearing the full brunt of her mistake.

For a fleeting moment she considered throwing the door open and jumping in to defend herself personally, but the idea died a shamefully quick death when she admitted to herself that she was too much of a coward.

After a suitably awkward silence, Remus looked up from a very thoughtful examination of Dora's hand that was slowly edging its way into his lap to fix Edwin with a well-practiced stare that managed to be firm yet perfectly amiable all at once.

"What I mean to say, Edwin, is that Carrie isn't a child and it really isn't for me to tell her if she can go somewhere or if she can't befriend somebody..."

"Maybe not, but she is your responsibility isn't she?" Edwin hissed, eyes wide in panic. "Remus, believe me, these people they...they're the worst sort!"

"She is our responsibility, yes, but whatever quarrel you have with the Carters has nothing to do with us." Dora insisted resolutely. "The Ministry never ruled anything against that family..."

"Are you calling my father a liar?" Samuel asked, rising abruptly from his seat, the screeching of the chair legs upon the floor making Carrie flinch.

"I'm not calling anybody a liar." Dora reasoned calmly as over by the sink Neve reached to press a horrified hand to her mouth. "I'm simply looking at the few things can be proven for certain. Kit Carter's guilt isn't one of them..."

"HE KILLED SABLE!" Samuel shouted, making his mother jump. "HE MURDERED MY SISTER!"

"That's enough, Samuel." Edwin murmured, reaching to put a firm hand upon the young man's shoulder. "You'll upset your mother."

Carrie couldn't help but feel that it was rather too late for that, for Neve promptly gave a rather high pitched sob and buried her face in a tea towel.

"We're not here to point fingers or cause anybody any upset." Remus said as Samuel sunk back into his chair, face red from his outburst. "What happened to Sable was tragic and we're deeply sorry to hear of it. But we've no wish to form any sort of opinion based on people's guesses about what happened and we aren't going to encourage Carrie to do so either."

"Carrie can form an opinion based on facts having met and spoken to the Carters." Dora agreed. "And meanwhile we'll keep an eye or two on her from a distance, just like we always do. You've no need to worry about her. Trust me, we're very well practiced."

There was a long silence as at the end of the table Teddy nodded vigorous agreement and Edwin eyed his guests despairingly before murmuring:

"Very well, then."

"Pa..." Samuel began immediately, only for Edwin to wave a dismissive hand at him and instruct:

"You hold your tongue and show some respect, Samuel!"

"But Pa..."

"It's their sword, let them die by it."

Carrie felt only marginal relief at this frosty understanding that had settled between the adults, and as she watched Remus and Dora rise from their chairs, she wondered at Edwin smiling whilst stepping forward to grasp Remus momentarily by the hand, and at Dora's sudden declaration that dinner had been lovely and perhaps she might help Neve clear the table. As they all seemed to fall into the usual politeness and niceties that had occurred the previous evening at dinner, Samuel stared around at them incredulously, and as Teddy set about following his parents' example, the blonde haired young man was finally tipped over the edge.

"Do you play chess, Samuel?" Teddy asked cheerfully as he set about stacking up the plates down at his end of the table, and Samuel turned to stare at him with wide eyes.

"Chess?" he asked, very nearly spitting, but Teddy appeared not to notice.

"Yes, chess. We could have a game, if you like."

Samuel slowly reached to run disbelieving hand over his eyes in an attempt to calm himself, only for the hand to ball into a fist which he promptly slammed down onto the table, making his mother jump, the glass she was holding slipping to the floor with a crash.

"No I don't want to play bloody chess!" Samuel cried. "What's wrong with you people?"

Everybody turned to look at him as if he were being utterly outrageous, and his face contorted in frustration, only to turn on his heel and stalk across the room, heading straight for the door that Carrie was stooped behind. The muggle had barely leapt backwards from the door when the young man had reached to fling it open wide, the fury upon his face made the muggle take another step backwards.

"Did he tell you all about the wonderful Miss Tabitha and poor, grieving Matthias?" he demanded to know as Teddy got to his feet, face contorted into a scowl at such abrupt behaviour.

Carrie glanced past the fuming young man to see Dora abandon a stack of plates beside the sink. The Auror folded her arms firmly across her chest, lips pressed together into a thin, disapproving line. The witch's disapproval gave Carrie just about enough nerve to draw herself up to her full height and ask:

"So what if he did? What does it matter?"

"Did he tell you what a beautiful and lovely girl Tabitha was? How she was overcome with joy and love when Matthias told her he loved her? How she threw herself to the dragon to save her loving, darling Carter?"

"It's just a story!" Carrie insisted, rather wishing that Dora might feel annoyed enough to interrupt, but the witch merely continued to stare along with everybody else.

"Is it?" Samuel asked, and with that he threw back his head and gave a rather high pitched shout of laughter.

"Samuel, leave her alone for Merlin's sake!" Edwin muttered at last, far more feeble than the booming voice that Carrie had become used to, but Samuel ignored him.

"It's a pack of lies!" the young man insisted furiously. "It always is with them!"

"It's just a story." Carrie said again, and Samuel took a stomping step towards her. Back out in the living room, Carrie saw Teddy edge forward a step of his own.

"It's not just a story! It's a lie! A cover up!" Samuel exclaimed. "Tabitha didn't love Matthias in the slightest, he was a horrible brute! He had her locked up in that house against her will! She didn't sacrifice herself to the dragon to save him, she did it for herself! To save herself from Matthias Carter and his dreadful temper and suffocating obsession with her!"

There was a long pause as Carrie attempted to digest the information that had been triumphantly thrown at her, and she glanced uncertainly over his shoulder again to gage the others' reactions.

Unhelpfully, Remus' expression was its usual and infuriatingly neutral self. Dora was eying her shoes as if she were tired of the drama...

"Well..." Carrie decided a little shakily when nobody came to her rescue, "I...I don't know if that's true or not. I don't know if any of it's true, but I don't care either way. Why should I worry about a dragon gobbling up a girl hundreds of years before now? It's...irrelevant!"

"Nothing's irrelevant." Samuel hissed. "Not when it comes to those people!"

"That's enough, Sam!" Edwin insisted, at last coming entirely to his senses. He strode to the doorway and reached to put a firm hand upon Samuel's shoulder. "Now come on, leave her be!"

Samuel shot Carrie one last scowl before reluctantly allowing his father to lead him back into the room, and the cheery facade instantly began to manifest itself anew.

"Can I help with the washing up?" Teddy asked Neve as if it were without doubt his most favourite activity, and Edwin told him:
"That'd be really kind of you, Ted." Hand still grasping hold of Samuel by the elbow as if he didn't dare let him loose, the wizard smiled broadly and asked: "Eh, Tonks, how'd you like a bit of stargazing before the chill sets in? It's clear as anything, the sky out there tonight."

"Why not?" Dora said brightly, glad for the suggestion, and she promptly seized Remus by the hand and wondered: "D'you remember where I left my cloak, love?"

Carrie watched a little numbly as the couple promptly disappeared out into the darkness outside, and as Teddy and Neve set about clearing up after dinner, chattering quite merrily about nothing in particular, Carrie supposed herself forgotten for Edwin promptly turned to Samuel, grip upon the young man's elbow tightening as he leant forward to hiss:

"Keep your mouth shut!"

"But they have to know, Pa!" Samuel protested miserably. "They have to, they need to believe us!"

"Would you believe us if you were them?" Edwin whispered. "Of course you wouldn't!"

"Everybody else believes us!"

"Everybody else isn't them, son! Everybody else isn't an Auror and a werewolf!" When Samuel merely stared at his father blankly, Edwin sighed heavily, reaching to rake a hand through his thick mop of hair. "If the Ministry didn't prove it Tonks won't just assume we're right! If Aurors went around making assumptions left right and centre they'd be very short-lived indeed! How many years has she been with them, d'you suppose? Couple of decades at least! And d'you reckon the witch who married a werewolf is going to believe any amount of hearsay about anyone 'less she has some actual proof? Not bloody likely! And what's Remus got in the world if he can just believe something as awful as all that? What's there for him anywhere if he can just assume the worst of people? If he can do it, so can everybody else, and they'd assume the worst of him, wouldn't they son? We'd all think bad of a werewolf! He has to see good in people, Samuel, he has to give them what he thinks is a fair chance. Because he needs to believe that if he can do it, somebody else out there can do the same for him." As Samuel's gaze dropped shamefully to his shoes, Edwin reached to lay his hands upon the young man's shoulders. "Don't blame them, Samuel." he insisted softly. "They're good people, they don't deserve grief for wanting a bit of fairness in the world. And Tonks' right, they'll keep a good eye on the lass. They might want to be fair, but they ain't stupid. You don't get dim Deputy Heads of Aurors and you don't survive in the Order of the Phoenix without some sense and a sharp eye or two." For a moment, Edwin gazed at his son imploringly, before his hands slipped from Samuel's shoulders and he murmured: "Now get that table scrubbed clean and set the scraps aside for the animals."

Once the two of them had wandered off to help clean up, Carrie hurriedly reached to push the bedroom door shut again, leaning back against the wood with a heavy sigh. Her heart was still thudding relentlessly in her chest from the confrontation and she could feel her cheeks burning pink. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, relieved at the feeling of the cool air being drawn into her lungs.

She was half glad, half despairing at Edwin's decision to agree to disagree with Remus and Dora. She was relieved the arguing had stopped, the tense atmosphere dispersed, and yet she felt utterly exposed, entirely unprotected. She didn't like to hear Edwin reason away the Lupins' attitudes, easily explain their opinions and precisely where they came from.

No indeed, Carrie couldn't stand the suggestion that Dora thought as she did because of her job, or that Remus thought as he did because of his condition. She wanted to draw the easy and comforting conclusion: They thought that way because it was right. They were right, they knew it all, they were flawless mystical beings who didn't need explaining, they were simply omniscient...

Except they weren't. They never had been, it was all an illusion, a fantasy, Carrie's guardian angels weren't angels at all, they were guardian human beings with flaws...

Guardian human beings who made abrupt decisions with painful consequences soaked in blood and tears and piercing cries, Carrie could still recall the stains of death upon the gravel driveway that she herself had once solemnly washed away with bucketfuls of water, a deadly crimson mistake running in an ugly bloody stream before her eyes.

Guardian human beings who misjudged what they were up against, with crushing results that left them battered and broken and in need of guardian angels themselves, hopeless, helpless and subtly scarred, marks so deep they never quite healed. It had been a year since the Deputy Head of Aurors had last made a trip to Azkaban Prison, a year of excuses, of delegating such journeys to others, of point blank refusals to step foot inside that place, quiet and brief acknowledgement of a lasting pain that Carrie's guardians both bore at all other times silently. Sometimes the silence broke at night, when the world was sleeping and imaginations ran wild, twice Carrie had awoken from falling asleep upon their sofa downstairs to the sound of panicked shrieking, an audible scar from their most regretted mistake.

At yet it was all so easy to forget, it was so easy to pretend that none of it had happened. It was easy when Dora dismissed Carrie's fears by saying something witty, or when Remus spoke so definitely that the muggle could find herself quite convinced that he had never known a mistake in all his years.

Carrie wished she hadn't been listening to Edwin, that he hadn't had the chance to ruin her happy facade.

The muggle attempted to fan her face with one hand, frowning at the heat upon her cheeks. She really did feel unbearably warm after the confrontation and after a moment she crossed to the little bedroom window and reached to push it open a little. The air that began to seep into the warm room was chilly and Carrie gave a relieved shudder. She closed her eyes and listened to the soft rustling of the trees outside, somewhere above an owl hooted softly and then...

Footsteps.

Carrie's eyes darted open and she squinted through the darkness searchingly. She could hear familiar, hushed voices...

Carrie hurriedly dropped into a crouch below the window. She couldn't bear Remus and Dora catching sight of her, she felt much too guilty for causing them trouble. She wouldn't know what to do or say. She heard the couple come to a halt and she dared to peer over the window ledge to see them stood by the tree some meters away, Remus' gaze upon his shoes and Dora's somewhat unconvincingly skyward.

"Edwin's not kidding." Carrie heard the witch murmur, taking an idle few steps until she was stood at her husband's back. "It's stunning."

"Mm..." Remus murmured, not bothering to look up.

Dora turned to face his back, reaching to slide her hands up onto his shoulders, fingers pressed in soothing circles as she observed:

"You've gotten yourself terribly tense."

The werewolf frowned deeply and reached to shove his hands deep into his pockets.

"It's going wrong." he complained as Dora's forehead came to rest against his back.

"What is?" the Auror asked as if nothing at all were amiss, and he gave a soft huff.

"This is. This holiday of ours..."

"Is it?" Dora sounded surprised. "I think it's been going brilliantly. Did you know, love, I've eaten strawberries and cream two days in a row?"

Remus pursed his lips together against a smile.

"Well yes," he said as her grip upon his shoulders tightened. "But it's supposed to be perfect..."

"Nothing's ever perfect, Sweetheart. You should know that, you're married to me!" Dora rose up onto tiptoes until she could rest her chin upon his shoulder. "Forget all that back there, eh?" she suggested, voice dropped to a soft murmur that Carrie could barely make out. "We'll all sleep on it and it'll die down."

"I expect you're right." Remus agreed half-heartedly, only for Dora to insist:

"You know I'm right."

"Yes, I do."

"Mm..." There was a sizeable pause, her fingers still probing thoughtfully at his shoulders before she concluded: "There's something else, though, isn't there?"

For a while Remus didn't reply, a deep frown creasing his brow and Carrie felt quite hurt when Dora insisted:

"Out with it, Remus, what else has Carrie done now?"

"It's not Carrie." Remus mumbled, and the witch gave an exaggerated gasp and exclaimed:

"It's a miracle!"

"It's me." Remus elaborated without a hint of amusement.

Dora instantly sobered, one hand abandoning its inspection of his shoulder to tangle absentmindedly in his hair.

"D'you want to talk about it?" she asked, leaning until her head was nestled against the side of his neck.

Remus took a moment to draw his cloak further around himself before admitting:

"I told Carrie something I shouldn't have..."

"Did you tell her that wrestling hippogriffs is a euphemism?"

"No..."

"Thank Merlin."

"I've lied to her."

"So have I. But I like to think it was necessary for her mental wellbeing..."

"No, Dora, I mean I've lied to her."

"Ah."

Remus sighed heavily, reaching to run a weary hand across his eyes.

"I told her there wasn't any point trying to...trying to change things here." he confessed. "I told her it couldn't be done in just two weeks."

"Well you're right," Dora reasoned, smoothing his hair comfortingly, "it probably can't."

"Yes...but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try!"

Dora sighed heavily, and Carrie could just about make out her eyes drifting closed. There was a long pause before the witch murmured:

"Sweetheart?"

"Mm?"

"Don't." The witch straightened up and reached to turn her husband round to face her, and through the darkness Carrie could just about make out the deeply serious expression upon her face. "Don't feel guilty, just don't. We can't fix the whole wide world, love, it's far too big, far too bruised and far too broken! The best we can do is patch up a few bits here and there and be glad of it. And when we've not the time, or the resources, like right now, that's nothing to feel bad about, it's not as if we've done nothing."

"We've done something?" Remus murmured disbelievingly, and she reached to cup his face in her hands, dark eyes imploring as she insisted:

"Yes, Sweetheart! Yes we have, we've led by example. We haven't jumped on the bandwagon, we're being fair and we're doing what's right. And we don't deserve to feel bad about doing only that, we can have a holiday for Merlin's sake! We can have a holiday and enjoy ourselves, why in Merlin's name not? We've had a bad enough time this past year or so! We deserve it! We do, I know you don't think it but we do!"

At a rare mention of the unspeakably awful few weeks the previous year, Remus immediately reached to wrap his arms tightly around Dora's waist.
"Yes you do." he murmured, only for her to correct:

"Yes we do. Nobody's going to blame us for keeping ourselves to ourselves. Not after...not after we didn't last time." For the briefest of moments there was a painful stab of anxiety in her voice, and Carrie couldn't help but wonder if the prospect of drama had become something of a worry, a fear of what it might lead to. But as soon as it had come, it was gone again, and Dora reached to slide her fingers into her husband's hair, the movement slow, calming. "So," the witch murmured, dark eyes twinkling, "relax. Close your eyes."

The werewolf's shoulders slumped obediently as she closed the gap between them, lips tickling his ear. "Listen." she whispered as his grip upon her slackened, his hands resting comfortably upon her hips. "There's barely a sound except the wind in the trees, it's perfectly peaceful. Just like it was before we came back for dinner."

"It's colder."

"Mm...but we're not. We can stay warm like before." She slid her hands deep into the warm folds of his cloak and as he tucked his hands under the hem of her jumper she gave a shiver at cool fingers against bare skin. "You know," she whispered, drawing back ever so slightly so that she could smile at his still closed eyes. "We could stay out here all night, if we wanted to."

"And catch our deaths."

"Mm...if we wanted to."
"Mm."

"Because it's no different than before, is it? It's just the same, just as whimsical and carefree and just us."

For a moment his eyes drifted open and he was about to lean to kiss her when he found a finger suddenly pressed to his lips.

"Close your eyes." the witch insisted, and for the briefest second Carrie thought me might protest, only for Dora to add: "Close them!" Once satisfied that he was once again blind to the world, the Auror leant forward until their lips were brushing. "There's no problem." she murmured, leaning back a little when he made to kiss her again, "No work, no children, no suicidal muggles..." Remus attempted to suppress a huff of amusement and failed, earning himself a sharp tap upon the lips with her finger. "...nobody. Not anybody, not anything, just us. Just you and me."

"In which case," the werewolf murmured, pausing again to steal a kiss and failing when she jerked backwards to avoid it, "I should very much like to open my eyes..."

"No. Not yet."

"You're teasing me."

"I'm your wife, Sweetheart, that's what I do."

"Apparently so...
"Shhh."

"...but you'd think after so long you'd give me a breather every once in a..."

"Shut up, love."

"Right."

For a brief moment the atmosphere was quite spoilt as Dora failed to suppress a chuckle, only for it to end abruptly when he attempted to use her distraction to his advantage. Dodging the incoming kiss she gave him a firm slap upon the arm and demanded:

"Behave!"

"Why? You're not..."

"Walk this way."
"Which way? Come back..."

"This way!"

"My eyes are closed..."
"Follow my voice, then..."

"I can't see..."

"Then I suppose if you want a kiss you're going to have to trust me!"

As she watched Remus trip over a fallen tree branch and struggle not to fall to his knees a moment later, Carrie had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. She supposed she might just as well have laughed out loud for Dora's shriek of amusement would no doubt have drowned her out.

"Keep going, keep going..."

"You're wicked."

"It's not my fault you can't put one foot in front of the other."

"Only keeping you company, darling."

"What? That's...! Left a bit, left a bit..."

Crunch.

"Argh..Dora!"

"You deserved it! That was a nasty joke! Keep going, nearly there!"

"This better be worth it..."

"Is it? Am I worth it, Remus?"

"I'm not sure..."

"You're not sure?"

"No..."

"Right!"

"No, left. You'll walk me into another tree root..."

"Don't be so bloody clever! You're supposed to be trusting me!"

"More fool me then...gotcha!"

As she watched Remus triumphantly snatch Dora up into his arms, eliciting a small squeak from the witch in question, Carrie was for a moment quite charmed by their silliness and was about to muse that she rather hoped she and Teddy would grow to be so daft, when her amusement was dulled as the couple broke from a kiss and Dora murmured:

"There, passed relaxed and heading for downright ridiculous. Better now, Sweetheart?"

"Much better." Remus admitted, and as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, the witch sighed contentedly and whispered:

"Then let's stay like this. Let's stay much better."

"Let's." he agreed, and Carrie felt oddly apprehensive as Dora nestled her head under her husband's chin and decided:

"Let's stick to just you and me."

"Let's." Remus murmured again, and quite suddenly Carrie found herself with an urge to jump to her feet and shout out of the window: No, let's not!

Don't shut out the rest of the world, the muggle thought quite desperately. Don't disappear off for the rest of the holiday and leave me to figure things out for myself.

Because she didn't know what to think, who to listen to, what to believe...

Don't be selfish!

For a moment, as she slipped further down onto the floor of her room and reached to hug her knees to her chest, Carrie allowed the sense of anger to bubble up inside of herself, she felt betrayed, abandoned...

And yet almost as soon as it had come it was gone again, crushed to death by Carrie's own disgust.

Because it was disgusting that she could think like that, if only for a second.

Because it wasn't selfish of them to want to be alone, to want to forget things for just a little while. Dora was right, they deserved it...

No, Carrie realised as she reached to press fingers into her eyes, the dull ache a slight distraction from the twisting knots in her stomach. She didn't feel angry because Remus and Dora were selfish.

She felt anxious because perhaps they had finally had enough.

Enough drama, enough problems, enough trouble, enough upset, enough strain.

Enough of being guardian angels. Enough of being fearless wonders.

Enough of Carrie.

And Carrie Winters felt utterly defenceless. She tried to reason with herself, remind herself of what they had said to Edwin, what they always said to her: they'd keep an eye on her and keep her safe.

But something was different. Something had changed, Carrie was sure of it...

She became distracted by the sound of movement by the window above and the soft scratching sound made her jump. She hastily shifted around to look up at the window, and very nearly jumped again to spot a small bird perched carefully upon the window ledge.

For a moment, girl and bird stared at one another as if in wonder, before the bird ruffled it's feathers a little and gave a cheerful chirp.

Despite herself, Carrie found herself smiling, only to falter a little as a thought dawned:

Kit Carter.

"Hello..." she whispered rather hesitantly, wondering if it was indeed the Vale's resident Animagus, though she couldn't imagine for the life of her what he would be doing at her bedroom window, but at that precise moment there came a knock upon the door and the bird took flight in alarm.

"Carrie?" Teddy's voice called as Carrie watched the bird flutter off into the treetops outside. "Are you awake?"

It wasn't until the bird had disappeared entirely that Carrie realised that she had been asked a question. She scrambled to her feet and went to pull open the door.

"Yes I am." she informed her boyfriend rather unnecessarily a moment later, and the turquoise haired wizard reached forward to take hold of her by the hand.

"Are you alright?" he asked, thumb scuffing her hand comfortingly, and Carrie was quick to plaster a smile onto her face and assure him:

"I'm fine." When he looked a little disbelieving she insisted: "Really I am."

"Good." Teddy breathed, sounding relieved, and with that he leant to press a kiss to her cheek. "I'm going to go to bed, Edwin says he'll wake me at five tomorrow morning, but I'll have the afternoon free after lunch."

"What about me?" Carrie asked, glad at the thought of some work to take her mind of her increasing worries, but Teddy only shrugged.

"He didn't say anything about you." he admitted apologetically, and she did her best not to look disappointed.

I've been shunned, she thought dismally, but forced herself to muse:

"Well, maybe I'll come and visit you, see how it's going."

"I'd like that!" Teddy said brightly, but at the tight hug that he bestowed upon her a second later Carrie was sure that her enthusiasm hadn't been very convincing. "Goodnight Sweetheart." he murmured, dropping a kiss atop her head, and for a moment she found herself desperate to cling onto him and not let him go.

"Goodnight Ted." she whispered, reluctantly prising herself away from him, and as soon as he had turned to head for his room she closed the door again, keen that if she couldn't have Teddy she'd have nobody at all.