DINNER

There was something about pasta with fresh seafood that made Hermione feel miles away from her problems. Something so magical, in the muggle sense, about really fresh, well-prepared food, of a sort never served at home or at Hogwarts.

It was odd, she thought, how little she thought of food. It was almost as though she hadn't eaten in years. When was the last time she'd actually tasted anything?

Harry was pushing his food around his plate, and haltingly trying to articulate something about Teddy and godparenting.

The answer came to Hermione in a rush. She took a sip of wine and contemplated Harry's earnest face.

"… and Lupin chose me, you know, so I feel like I should step up… but then Andromeda seems happy… but it's awkward… and I'm not… I don't know if I'm…."

Yes, definitely. She had to be right about this one. She felt right.

"Remus Lupin spent the vast majority of his life believing himself to be completely unlovable." She said, warm from the wine, and feeling certain about something again, "Tonks really knocked his socks off and spun him round. I think he felt responsible for you; that's why he turned up at Grimmauld Place that time when you bit his ear off. I think he really was happy with Tonks, and just couldn't handle it- didn't feel like he deserved it, or had earnt it or something- and was in a flap of feeling like a deputy godparent for you and failing in his duty to protect you all the while being deliriously happy with his new wife-and-baby situation."

Harry stared at her.

"You think he felt guilty about being happy when I was in danger,"

"Yes. And I think when he asked you to be godfather to Teddy, he did it in a fit of deep optimism or pessimism, I'm not sure which. Either he thought he'd survive, buoyed up on all his new found happiness, or he thought you'd no chance of surviving and having to actually do anything, but would be flattered to be asked. And I still think he felt he owed you because of your dad. And Sirius. I think Remus Lupin spent most of his life apologising for his own existence."

Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't.

"I don't think Andromeda wants or expects you to take responsibility for Teddy. Actually, I think she'd hate that. Go over, help her out, you know, but don't panic about it- I really don't think Lupin ever considered a future where you might be left holding his baby."

Harry took a big mouthful and discovered it was wine, not water, and he'd picked up the wrong glass.

He swallowed, eyes watering and gazed at Hermione across the table.

"That's the most horribly sad tragic account of a person's life," he said finally, "I thought you liked Lupin,"

Hermione blinked, taken aback.

"I adored Lupin. I mean, I know you all think I fancied Lockhart, but if there ever was a teacher I had a soft spot for it was Lupin. Really clouded my judgement in third year. One out of three? Come on. I think he was the most considerate, thoughtful, humble, honest person I've ever met. I also think he spent a lot of his life deeply unhappy. I don't mean it as a negative thing about him- I think he was a remarkable person, and even more so when you consider the kind of ostracism he was facing. Look, I guess what I'm trying to say is he wasn't used to being happy- and let's face it, we're not used to being happy either. It's not familiar. It doesn't feature much in our experiences, so we mistrust it. But I think he was happy with Tonks, ultimately. I just think he was having a hard time working out how to cope with that, and in the middle of his confusion he asked you to be godfather, and also walked out on his family temporarily in a fit of panic. I really do think it's a classic case of someone being their own worst enemy."

Harry found himself nodding, almost mechanically.

"I'm not happy," he found himself saying.

Hermione gazed at him.

"No," she said quietly, "I don't think any of us are."

"Merlin's balls, Hermione, this is depressing,"

The chink of other people's cutlery and conversation filled the silence.

"Well… if it makes any difference, I am really enjoying this pasta," said Hermione finally, "And it turns out my parents are ok, which… I guess I'm starting to feel good about,"

"Hey… how did they… you know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Muggle technology," she said dryly, "I should've known."

Harry grinned.

"Are you trying to tell me they outsmarted you?"

Hermione glared at him, caught herself, and pulled a face.

"Maybe,"

Harry scooped up a forkful of pasta.

"Excellent," he said, "Tell me all about it!"

RON'S BEDROOM

Ron lay in bed, sweating, and trying not to feel paranoid about Harry and Hermione going out for dinner. Ginny had initially tried to convince him that she desperately wanted a 'family' dinner, just her and him and George, but this request seemed like utter nonsense right from the start.

Sometimes, Ginny could be very transparent.

"Oh, don't make a fuss, Ron," she'd said, and explained, in the most annoying way possible, that it was just dinner between friends.

It was odd, but he only felt a little upset by it.

Staring through the dark at the lazy movement of the ceiling fan overhead, Ron discovered he was only really upset because she wasn't speaking to him, and not at all because of dinner with Harry.

I must be growing as a person, he thought mockingly to himself. The idea, ludicrous though it was, secretly pleased him. He rolled over and focused on remembering exactly what it felt like when Hermione had reached for his hand.

He found himself grinning in the dark.

There's definitely something there.

He was almost completely asleep, when she appeared. A soft knock on the door, her voice, whispering his name, and then she was climbing into bed next to him. It was like a drowsy sort of dream, and he thought it was at first, but she curled up beside him with her arm touching his, and he woke up a bit more, just enough to register it as real and act without thinking. He smoothed back her hair, ran a hand down her shoulder and then went back to sleeping.

In the dark, Hermione smiled.

There's definitely something there.