May, 21st, 1995

Dear Diary,

Things continue to heat up with Remus. We've gone from sex about every other night to sex every day, sometimes two or three times a day.

The nightmare was an isolated incident from what we can tell for now. I'm glad, even if it's because of all the measures Remus has taken, because I never want to feel like that again.

He thinks I'm taking notes on the files I read today, and I'm glad I can keep this diary a secret from him. It's not like I'll write all sorts of unflattering things about him, but I do think I'll end up writing a lot of fears about his lycanthropy and he feels bad enough about it without adding in my thoughts.

Speaking of that, he just got back from the full moon. He swore he was fine (of course), but he still needed a fair amount of medical attention when he returned – mostly scrapes and bites. I don't think he minded the medical care, though, as he kept trying to distract me with kisses and touches as I treated him. It seemed to make him rather randy.

And I certainly know better than to complain about that.

I'm still not sure if "love" is the right word for us, and neither of us has said it yet, which might be for the best as I sort it out. But it is a bit hard to think about the future. It's not even just his lycanthropy or his position toward it, although those are obviously factors. But there's also my own uncertainties about my future. I don't know if or when I'll find my Death Eater, or even where, and if it ever came down to choosing Remus or my search, I honestly don't know what I'd do.

Thankfully, he's thus far supportive and no choice seems to be necessary in the foreseeable future.

Dinnertime.

Helene closed the little book with a smile and tapped it with her wand to seal it.

"Steak again?" she asked, knowing he'd craved it for a week leading up to the full moon.

"No, not after," Remus groaned with a wince. "Something vegetarian?"

She screwed up her mouth thoughtfully for a moment before she said, "You know, I think there's still some cheese tortellini in the freezer."

"That sounds perfect," he sighed with a smile.

She got up, gave him a kiss on the forehead, and busied herself with dinner in an effort to get out of her thoughts.

"Want me to read you anything?" he asked as she prepared the pasta and thought about possible sauces.

"No, it was a fairly unproductive day," she admitted. "How was the paper? Any news?"

Remus shrugged.

"Not really," he sighed. "More and more of the same, it seems."

Helene knew roughly what that meant, and she nodded, going about making dinner while he rubbed his eyes, obviously thinking about something.

Making dinner was something Helene had really come to enjoy. It wasn't that she'd never made dinner in Australia, but the boys usually made it, citing the need to do something menial after long days at work and the like. Helene knew they were giving their mother a break after Mr. Little had died. She'd grown increasingly frail since then, and Helene appreciated the rest as much as Mrs. Little did.

"Do you want me to make tea?" Remus asked.

Helene turned on the stove and shrugged. He took that as an affirmative, getting up and organizing things to make tea. She handed him the mugs, which she and her pasta were in the way of.

Their routine was nice, comfortable, and sometimes even better than comfortable. But Helene was beginning to wonder when she would find something to push her forward on her quest. Getting too comfortable when you were searching for something was a sure way never to find the end goal. That was the last thing Helene wanted.

Remus wasn't the problem. If he weren't with her, she would perhaps be worse off, and it certainly wouldn't improve anything about her situation. She'd still be hiding out, going through files. She needed to find some action she could do, though, that would bring her closer to finding her Death Eater.

"Careful," Remus said, and she whipped around to see that the pasta was about to boil over. She quickly turned down the stove, thanking him and checking the clock as she began stirring the tortellini as it cooked.

He began to set the table behind her and she tried to focus on the food, knowing that he was too tired to be putting so much pressure on. He shouldn't have to be noticing the things she ought to be paying attention to. He had enough on his mind.

As soon as the pasta finished, Helene strained it, mixed in oil and a spoonful of pesto, and asked him if he wanted more pesto. He looked into the bowl and said yes.

Helene continued mixing in pesto until Remus said she'd done enough and then she put out the pasta, quickly made a basic salad, and sat down across from him while he dished up the pasta.

"Smells delicious," he sighed.

It smelled like pesto, nothing more or less, but she knew that for Remus everything but meat smelled good right then. She thanked him anyway, picking up her fork and spearing a tortellini.

They ate in silence for a while. Remus seemed incredibly intent upon his food and Helene was lost in her thoughts of trying to find a plan for action. She finished her tea, though, and went to pour some more when Remus's hand stopped her.

"Could you pour me some more too?" he asked, handing her his cup. She did so, but this was what got them talking again, pulling them out of their own thoughts and plates.

"There was one interesting article in the paper," Remus told her as she sat back down, sipping her tea. "About the Tournament."

Helene quirked an eyebrow at him.

They hadn't talked too much about reporting about the Tournament, mostly because Rita Skeeter got old fast. The way he'd introduced this, though, was different.

"Really?" she said, dishing herself up more salad. "What is it that it was saying? Something about Harry Potter's love life again, or…?"

"No, nothing like that," he said with a wry smile. He'd started taking it better as it got more and more absurd. Obviously there were people stupid enough to believe Rita Skeeter, but those people weren't worth worrying much about, anyway. "It was just a basic article about previous final tasks and speculating on what this one might be."

"And what did they decide?"

"That they really haven't got a clue, obviously," he said with a dull laugh. "Everything from a race across Scotland to a month-long project of training a manticore for domicile."

"So it was utter rubbish, then?"

"I suppose it was."

Helene shook her head, smiling. Anything for a story, even if it was a terrible story. Journalists were all about counting their bylines.

"This tournament has really caused a stir, hasn't it? Probably even more than they expected."

"It certainly has," he said solemnly. "The simple fact of an underage student, a fourth student, being entered into the competition would have caused enough of a stir, but the fact that it was Harry has basically turned the world upside down."

"He has a way of doing that, doesn't he?" Helene said, smiling. She wished she could meet him, this boy she'd heard so much about growing up, the boy she knew funny stories about before he'd done anything extraordinary. Perhaps she could tell him how much his parents had done for her when she'd lost everyone she loved.

"Do you really think that he's coming back?" Helene asked softly, getting up to clean the dishes to avoid looking at Remus. She didn't want him to see that the idea frightened her.

He took a few beats to respond, probably chewing on his possible responses.

"I think it might happen," he said slowly. "I honestly don't know enough about the type of magic this must deal with to even begin to suggest how or in what form, but something is growing, and it seems to point to Voldemort. I don't think Harry being in this tournament is an accident, and neither does Sirius."

Helene nodded, frowning as she turned around.

"Do you think the Order could be reformed?" she asked. "I mean, nothing's happening yet, but if something does…. I mean, who's even left?"

"Not many people," Remus admitted sadly as she came over and sat on his lap. "Myself and Sirius, obviously. Dedalus. Elphias Doge, but he's so old now, and very frail…. Arabella Figg, but she's a Squib so there's only so much she can do. Most everybody's dead or incapacitated."

Helene asked what he meant by that and he told her quickly about the Longbottoms, about how they were tortured to insanity.

There were few things that scared Helene more than the thought of going insane. She shivered, imagining what it would be like to lose your mind, not just from the usual sorts of trauma, but through intensive, extended torture.

"Who did it?"

"Well, there were a few people, but the main was Bellatrix Lestrange," Remus said slowly. "She's in Azkaban, as are the others, except for one who died."

Helene narrowed her eyes, thinking over the files she'd read. She had seen something about the torture of a Frank and Alice Longbottom mentioned on the files of a few people among their long list of charges. She hadn't read Bellatrix Lestrange's file because she was female, but she'd seen it in two other Lestrange's files, and in the file of someone named Crouch.

"All in Azkaban, and one who died," Helene said thoughtfully. "You don't think…."

"I doubt it," Remus said, shaking his head. "Let's not talk about Death Eaters anymore tonight, all right? You don't need any more nightmares."

He was certainly right about that, but she had so much more she wanted to know, so many things she wanted to ask.

"All right," she said, recognizing that she was going to get no more out of him for the night.

She kissed his lips gently, feeling him respond instantly to the kiss, moving to kiss her more eagerly, but she pulled away, getting out of his lap, and smiling at him before turning and walking to set up chess by the fireplace.

Remus followed close behind, obviously not caring one whit about chess, but he obliged her as she set up the board.

"Do you want some wine?" he asked.

Helene shook her head.

"I'm already quite tired. I'd like to not fall asleep right away."

He seemed to take that, as she'd meant it, that she wasn't going to want sex that night. Remus settled in at the chessboard across from her, which was something they rarely did anymore. Perhaps he was trying to avoid temptation. And it wasn't exactly that Helene didn't want to tempt him, because that was something she enjoyed doing, but she was far too tired to have sex and really enjoy it that night.

They got about halfway through their chess match before he looked up at her and said, "Maybe we should get some more modern games."

She raised an eyebrow. She couldn't imagine why. There was a lot to be said for wizard's chess, and she'd never thought she'd see the day that Remus would get bored of it. Perhaps he thought she was?

"If you really want," she said with a lazy shrug. "I'm perfectly happy with what we have now, but if you think it's getting old…"

"No, it's not that," he said with a nervous laugh. "It's just…I used to play this a lot with Sirius, back when we were young and…and it feels strange to play it so often now that things are…different."

Helene finally understood what he was saying and she sat up a bit straighter, looking at him with nervous energy coursing through her.

"You…you wouldn't want to not play tonight, would you?"

"Oh, no I'm enjoying this," he said, giving her an apologetic look. "I didn't want to worry you, but I just thought that maybe in the future we could try something different, just see how it works out."

Helene agreed that this would be a good idea and settled back into playing the game, trying to regain her focus.

As if she had much of a prayer of beating him when so tired, anyway.

Of course, she hadn't factored in the fact that she was playing him while he was tired, aroused, and sick of it. She did win, although only just.

He rubbed his eyes and sighed, obviously tired, but then he smiled at her and Helene was sure he wanted to kiss her again.

"I think we should get ready for bed," she said, stretching as he began to put away the chess set. "I'm getting very sleepy."

Remus made no objections to this very obvious reminder that she did not want to have sex.

Instead they cleared the chess set and went to their bedroom, the one she had moved into once they began sleeping together. Helene quickly changed into a nightgown and Remus leisurely pulled off his clothes, not even bothering to put on a shirt for how warm it was that night. Instead, he climbed into bed beside her, pulling the duvet over them, wrapping his arms around her.

"Sweet dreams, love," he murmured, pressing his lips to hers, not particularly gentle, but not especially heated, either. For a brief moment, Helene forgot of her tiredness and kissed him back, encouraging him.

Remus did not need much encouragement to move more into the kiss, touching her face and pulling her closer. He moaned, holding her tight against him as her lips parted at his coaxing. Helene could feel him against her, feel him growing hard rapidly as she tried to keep her senses. She was tired. This could not happen tonight.

It wasn't that she didn't want him, because she did. She was aroused in spite of her exhaustion, and she knew he could smell it. Perhaps that was what was spurring him on, driving him out of control.

Helene could feel his hand on her thigh, just below where the nightgown stopped, and for a moment she wondered if she would let him go upward or stop him.

And then his fingers traced upward and she forgot that there was any reason to stop him.

"Remus," she sighed, feeling his excitement as she gave in to the kiss.

Sometimes she would get lost like this, although not every time. She'd never been so lost while so tired, and she wasn't sure if she would give in and have sex with him or not. Between the fog of arousal and the dullness of exhaustion, it was hard to think at all.

He groaned, feeling her body pressing against his. Helene was vaguely aware that she was doing something akin to teasing, but she felt her eyelids close as his lips moved from her mouth to her jaw, down her neck, and continuing downwards. She tried to open them again, but she could not. She simply hummed contentedly as he made to pull off her nightgown.

"Helene?" he asked, and she frowned, her eyes opening with a jolt as she found her voice again.

"Hmm? I'm awake."

He snorted.

"Don't lie, love. You're falling asleep while I seduce you."

She shivered at the way the word "seduce" sounded in his voice, but her eyes were already starting to flutter closed again and she hummed her agreement with his statement.

Remus sighed, moving them back into a chaste nighttime embrace, his lips touching her forehead gently.

"Good night, then, love," he whispered. "Sweet dreams. Perhaps I'll seduce you in the morning."

No longer possessing enough wakeful energy to laugh, Helene smiled contentedly in response to his joke, making one last humming sound before she surrendered to sleep.

Once she'd gone from that fuzzy state between wakefulness and dreams, she fell into a surprisingly peaceful dream.

She was with Remus, standing on the edge of Hogwarts grounds for the first time in years. Nothing had changed. The trees weren't even any taller.

Remus was leading her out to the lake, telling her he wanted to show her something. Helene was following, giggling, and the skipped across the lawn to the water, the water she had not played in since she was a little girl.

Helene needed no prompting to swim with Remus, exploring the cold waters with him.

The water wasn't as icy as it should have been, although Helene told herself in the dream that it was because it was virtually summer.

Remus was pulling her further and further into the water, saying comforting words to her, although she wasn't sure why. She didn't need comforting words. The water was warm, the sun was shining, and she was back at Hogwarts. Everything was lovely.

The dream then took a sudden turn for the uncomfortable when Remus's eyes flashed, no longer amber but suddenly red, and his face began to morph into one she'd only seen in pictures in history books and newspaper clippings.

As Voldemort floated sinisterly with her, staring at her with laughing eyes in the middle of the lake, Helene did not feel frightened as she had in her other nightmare. Rather than scream she merely stared at him for a long moment before allowing herself to be pulled under by the tide of the lake, by the giant squid? By whatever was pulling her under.

Calmly, Helene could feel her mouth fill with water, and she was going to have to breathe, going to have to….

With a sharp inhale, Helene woke up, staring at the ceiling above her and feeling Remus's arms tightly around her.

She was safe, she was alive, and she was not mad.

She was safe, she was alive, and she was not mad.