Disclaimer: Not mine.

His Calling

Chapter 3

The Reunion

The tray slipped out of Rosmerta's hands and clattered to the floor. Stooping down to pick up the broken china, unable to pull her wand and not trusting her hands to stop shaking, she heard a gasp from Rhea and looked up to see her staring at the kitchen door.

"Ro? Is everything…" Romulus started, then stopped and locked his eyes with his mother's.

"Marcus?" Rhea whispered, took one step toward him and stopped.

He crossed the room and pulled her to his chest, leaned down and buried his face in her neck. Rosmerta heard a sob break from deep in his chest, and his mother's soothing voice as she stroked his back. She took a step back, knowing she should leave them alone, then glanced out the window and worried that someone else may walk in.

"Marcus?" She laid her hand on his shoulder, felt it shake and grasped harder. "Please, upstairs. Someone may come in."

"You… you live here? All this time?" Rhea wiped her face with her sleeve, then reached out to lay her hand on his chest, not wanting to be without the feel of him.

He looked at Rosmerta, letting her see his tears. "More than two years now. Mum, come upstairs, we can have more privacy there."

Rhea looked at Rosmerta, then back to him when Rosmerta answered her unasked question. "No, just… friends," her voice catching in her throat. "Go on now, I'll just run over and get those quills you will be wanting. Change the sign to Closed when I leave. Won't be any business until dinner so don't worry about anyone coming in."

Romulus watched her as she walked out and did as she suggested, leading his mother upstairs. They talked for hours, hardly noticing the tray of tea and sandwiches that appeared and was cleared away again. Rosmerta busied herself in the kitchen, occasionally looking up at the ceiling, as if able to look through the floorboards and wondering what was being said.

All too soon for mother and son, and all too long for her, she heard their steps on the stairs. Standing to watch them come into the kitchen her eyes went to Romulus and locked on his face.

"I need to get back," Rhea said. "Can we come back and talk?"

"Of course," Rosmerta croaked, finding it difficult to talk. "Romulus?"

He saw her eyes fill and rushed to her, tipped up her chin and chuckled. "I'm not leaving. She means her and Dad."

"I thought … your family and all. I just …"

"Oh, my dear." Rhea put her hand to her throat. "Is that what you have been thinking all this time we've been talking? I can tell you the first thing he told me was that he was staying here. How do I thank you for taking care of him?"

Rosmerta rushed from the room only to be caught by Romulus who reached for her as she started up the stairs. "Ro, don't do this. She … it's not like that. I told her what you meant to me, she just… she's my mother."

"I said it wrong," Rhea said from the doorway. "I should have said thank you for wanting him, for loving him, but … last time I saw him he was but fifteen. It's going to take a while for me to accept the fact that he is married."

"Married?" Rosmerta snapped her head up to look at him and found him smirking at her.

He leaned down to kiss her cheek and whispered in her ear, "We need to talk, but not now."

Rhea took the package of quills and parchment, and hugged Marcus in a final good-bye, promising to return on Saturday, promising to have Anthony meet Marcus elsewhere so they could talk. She returned home in a crack of apparition, falling as her feet hit the ground. She looked up to the house and saw Anthony at the door, a scowl on his face, furious that she had been so long.

Anthony ran outside, angrily pulled her up and was ready to berate her for staying away so long without letting him know she was safe, until he saw her face. Her hand trailed along his jaw, and she looked over his shoulder to make sure Remus was not close. She told him of Marcus, and felt him weaken, and laughed as he sunk to his knees and pulled her down with him.

"He has married, or at least that's what he told me, but I think they are just living together. Even if they had the ceremony, it's not legal. Do you mind so terribly?"

"What is she like? Does she understand what to do? How will she…"

"He runs the forest." She put her hand over his mouth and nodded to the door. "Saturday, I will send Remus to your parents and you two can talk. He misses you so, he … he looks old, and … sad, Anthony. Haunted."

"He is older than most." Anthony said coldly. "He doesn't run with them. He has no protection out there but his own wits."

"He has been here," she said softly. "He saw Remus, he thinks just the once, but he can't remember what he does anymore."

Anthony stiffened and looked back to the house. "He wouldn't do that, not to Remus."

"Not if he can think, but … Anthony, after talking to him I don't think he can. He remembers bits and pieces, but not all of it. It is worse than it was when we had him, as if the older he gets the more complete the transformation. He can barely remember how he gets back to Hogsmeade now."

"You knew that." He stood up and held out his hand to help her up. "Now, wipe your face and think up some story about why you didn't buy your robes. Remus is fixing dinner. I hope you like burnt bangers."

"Tonight I will love them," she laughed. "My gods, I held him. I held my son. I didn't think I would ever do that again."

He scowled and then leaned down and brushed her lips with his, feeling her accept him for the first time in years without flinching. He studied her face and smiled. "Maybe we can all come home now. Did you like her? Your… our… daughter –in-law?"

"She's strong, and was on her own when she found him. Naked, he said." She looked at him from the corner of her eyes. "She knew what he was and still she let him in. That has to count for something. And she owns the Inn, so he can…"

"Live off his not wife?" Anthony stopped and glared at her. "What is he thinking?"

"What if something happened to you? What if you couldn't tend the animals, or the fields? Would you have me kick you out? I thought not. Now come and stop being an arse, I can smell the burnt bangers from here. We'll talk when Remus sleeps."

"She's a witch then?" He held her back from going to inside.

"Yes, does that bother you?"

His grip on her arm tightened. "Don't do this. I have never regretted loving you, never. I just want to make sure she really understands what she is in for, that she won't wake up and leave him."

"I don't think she will, she seems good for him. She … she's beautiful Anthony. Drop dead, head-turning beautiful and he doesn't even seem to see it, and when he talks about her … I don't know, his face changes. He's at peace. For the first time I think he is at peace."

Rosmerta had watched Rhea leave before turning to Romulus to see him smile. She liked it when he smiled, he seldom did. The lines around his eyes softened, and he looked not so hard, not so anxious.

"She's old fashioned, Dad's worse." He chuckled as he leaned down to kiss her neck. "Gods I love you witch. I don't know why that is so hard to say."

"You lied. About your name, you lied to me."

"No, my full name is Marcus Romulus Lupin. Most people that would remember me, from school and such, would only know me by Marcus Lupin. I found it easier to use my middle name. Doing odd jobs here and there I hardly ever need a last."

"You told her we were married."

"We will be," he whispered.

"We can't."

"It won't be legal, not binding by the law, but … I want to do this." He suddenly started to laugh. "I need to make a honest witch out of you. Ro, I want you to know I'm not leaving you, not until I have to."

"Romulus, this has to be the most unromantic proposal in history." She pulled away from him. "That, or the cruellest joke I have ever heard."

"No, Ro, listen. I'll find someone to do it, I promise."

"Who? A Muggle? You want to use rings and have some priest stand…"

"Stop," he said sharply. "I'll find someone, but if that is all we can have then yes. "

"Name one official that will do it here. My Gods, if they find out about …"

"Albus," he suggested. "Maybe I can … Ro, maybe he will do it. He always said that the laws should be changed, that some things were wrong."

"And Aberforth? His brother? If he finds out we may as well start looking for a cave to live in."

"At least you won't have to serve a bunch of love sick fifth-years tea."

"You do understand what this will mean. All of it?"

"I think so. No more of your dragging in strange wizards and tying them up?" he laughed. "You'll have to put up with just me. That, or we leave and live as Muggles."

"I think I can handle that," she swallowed and put a trembling hand to his face. "You know about me and still want to marry me? Even if it's not legal… not really… you know about Rookwood and Yaxley?"

"I know whose bed you came to first. I know that those bloody rumours are wrong. Is that what worries you? You can look at me, knowing what I am, and only wonder if I believe the gossip? My gods woman, and here I am the one that should worry if you will have me."

"I … then marry me and stop talking about it," she choked.

"But, no children. I won't risk that. If you ever decide to get pregnant I leave."

"You would be a great…"

"No, I mean it Ro. No one can say for sure what they would be like. Why do you think they have laws against my kind marrying?"

"They'll find a cure, I know they will, and then we can have a family."

"They won't find it in my lifetime, and don't think they will. If we do this, we both have to know nothing will change, nothing will ever be better." He released her and turned his back to her, walked to the fireplace and leaned his hands on the mantel. "We don't live as long as other wizards. The strain of the transformations is the best guess, but it is more than that. I may not come home some night, a farmer's gun, a wand blast if I get too close, even a well trained dog if I wander where I shouldn't."

"There was a witch lived at the end of the street where I grew up." She walked over and let her arms encircle his waist. "Her husband and son went into London, to the Ministry, to get him licensed to apparate. See, they home schooled him, they were afraid to let him go so far as Hogwarts. She lost them both, an accident at the train station. I think if I asked her she would say she would do it again, to even have them for a short time."

"No one else will have you." He turned and looked down at her sadly. "The witch down the street, did she ever remarry? Did she live the rest of her life alone? Did she ever…"

"Are you proposing or talking me out of it? Or is it yourself you are trying to get to back out? You said yourself it won't be legal anyway, maybe we should just forget it."

"No," he ran the pad of his thumb down her forehead, to her nose and let it lay on her mouth. "But if it is ever known that you let a Werewolf in your bed, that you kept him, and let him fuck you, they will say awful things about you and the Ministry will prohibit you from ever having a true marriage after that. What? Do you think I have not memorized every law that applies to my kind?"

"My mother was a whore. Do you think they can say anything about me I have not already heard? We are a good match," she laughed up at him. "The daughter of a whore and a homeless Werewolf."

"Think about it, Ro."

"I have. You've been in my bed two years. Do you think I never wanted this? Go see Albus."

The next day Albus listened to Marcus, seeing not the man he was but the fifth-year that had never returned to school. He listened to the story as he looked out onto the grounds of Hogwarts. Even if he had been aware, he knew he could not have allowed him back, not after the horrific attack and what had been done to him. He listened to the story silently until Marcus voiced his request.

"Rosmerta? Our Rosmerta Fitz?" Albus said in surprise. "How well do you know the young witch?"

"I have known her for two years now," Marcus lifted his eyes to the headmaster, "If that is what you are asking, I have however, lived at the Three Broomsticks for nearly three."

"I see," Albus frowned. "Does she understand, fully, what this would mean?"

"Yes."

"She has had a hard life," Albus mused.

"Headmaster, how well do you know her?"

"Rosmerta? I have known her all her life."

"Have you ever, just once, been able to change her mind about anything?"

"No," Albus chuckled. "I remember her temper quite well."

"Then I will tell you this, I don't want to dissuade her. I want to be completely selfish about her; for once in my life I want something for me. Even if you could change her mind, and we both know that's impossible, I would convince her to come away with me, to live as a Muggle. I love her, Headmaster."

"Then tell her to buy a gown," Albus chuckled. "Tomorrow should be a lovely day. We should bless your marriage by the lake. I am quite fond of it this time of year."

Marcus stood and clasped Albus' hand. "It will be a white gown. The rumours you no doubt heard were wrong."

"I do not trust rumours, but have always had faith in our Rosmerta." Albus peered over his glasses. "She was young and foolish once, but has grown into a remarkable witch."

"She would want you to know that she never let Yaxley touch her, but would kill me if she knows I told you."

"As will your father if he learns you are living there unmarried." Albus laughed. "You will find our Rosmerta much like him in his stubbornness. How well do you know the man who would curse his son for living with a witch before marriage?"

"My father?"

"Sit down lad." Albus indicated the chair he had just vacated. "I need to tell you a story. A story about a very brave Muggle and the son he thought he lost. You were sorted correctly in your short time here."

Albus told him of his father. What he was like when still a youth, the dreams he had when he first married his beautiful Rhea, and all the things Marcus knew but had never heard put out. He told him of Fenrir Greyback's infatuation with his mother, and the argument when Anthony had the audacity to marry a pure-blood witch. He spoke of Anthony's refusal to give in, to fall into the trap all too many pure-blood families were following. He told of Fenrir's anger and the threat to destroy whatever Anthony held most dear.

He explained that moving to the farm was meant to hide them, to keep him and his mother out of sight and out of the monster's reach.

"I blame myself for your condition." Albus finally reached the end. "Your mother wanted to home school you. It was I that convinced them that you would be safe here. However, I realized after it was too late for you, that it was the very fact that I kept you safe that made it even more important to Fenrir that he take you. He needed to show your father that there was no escape. Can you ever forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive," Marcus shrugged. "It's my life now, and if Ro is willing to share it with me… it is all I want, or need."

"She is a good witch. Someday perhaps I will have the honour of teaching another Lupin in these halls." He waved away Marcus' interruption. "The Ministry is full of idiots. This illness cannot be passed on to the unborn, stuff and nonsense. These laws are over four hundred years old, from a time when all things strange were banned. Now come, enough of this. Go to your bride."

"Albus, you can't guarantee that to me. I understand your thoughts on the matter, but I can't risk it. I won't risk it. She is too important to me to risk just hoping you are right."

"Tell her that I look forward to seeing her wed. We will speak of the future at a later time. I hope to convince you of your error in this. Tomorrow then?" Albus reached out and clasped both of Marcus' hands in his own.

The next evening they knelt in front of Albus, facing the lake and the mountains beyond. Albus insisted he wrap a silver-white ribbon around their joined hands as he invoked the old magic used in traditional marriages. Although the ribbon did not dissolve into their skin as it did between every other wizard and witch, it did shimmer and set a soft glow over their hands, as if a promise of things to come.

Albus then took the ribbon, transfigured it into two rings that were placed on their fingers, and made invisible to others. He reached his hands to the heavens, and beseeched the gods to bless them, to help them on their journey and watched sadly as they walked away.