"Think they'll be done before supper?" George yawned, cocking his head towards the living room. It was nearly three weeks later that we found ourselves back at Grimmauld for "family dinner". Angelina was still not all that keen on the place, finding it about as creepy as I did but feeling much less need to be polite about it. While she now understood things like the Department of Mysteries and Sirius, she still had very little desire to sit around a table with Mad Eye Moody and Remus Lupin and act as if there was nothing at all strange about it. I could hardly blame her, really. I wasn't really sure how these people became my friends, but waging war together does that. She had hardly fought a battle and seen these people burst through the door as reinforcements; until that happened, it was unlikely she would really get it.

So, when we arrived, Fred pulled her aside to calm her down and prepare her for just how normal dinner really would be. In her head, this was all going to be some big tactical discussion when, in reality, Mrs. Weasley would forbid anything Voldemort-related while Ron, Harry, and Hermione were within earshot. Fred and Angelina still had not emerged. I shrugged and filled in a word on the Daily Prophet's crossword. Remus frowned and double-checked my answer, as if he possibly knew anything about ancient rune translations. Silently admitting his defeat, he shrugged as if agreeing that my answer was right. Please.

"Doubt it," Tonks yawned. I shook my head in agreement. "But I can go check on my way out."

"No, I'll do it," George said. "Thanks, though. Where are you off to?"

"We're getting Kingsley set up with the muggle…prime minister?" She looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded that she had the term right. "Prime Minister for protection. With…well, with the attacks lately happening so close to him," the attacks being Emmaline and Amelia, of course, "we figured a bit of extra protection wouldn't hurt. We just don't want him to know he's got a bit of our help. You know how touchy that lot gets about a bit of magic. So, we're getting him hired as an aide."

"Good luck," Remus called after her.

No sooner had Tonks and George left than Harry entered. I snatched George's tankard, which thankfully had butterbeer in it rather than water. I would have preferred firewhiskey at that point, but I took what I could get. Truth be told, I did not particularly look forward to family dinners, either. All the subtle questions about marriage and grandchildren, grilling from Mr. Weasley about muggle technology, Harry getting pissy because no one was bringing everything down by discussing mass murders, Hermione spewing off her O.W.L scores like someone actually gives a damn. Loads of fun, this lot. Loads of fun.

"How're you doing, Harry?" I asked chipperly. In my head, he was going to yell at me. Or grunt something bitter. Or demand answers to some question I didn't even know he had. This was, after all, the moodiest boy alive. Whatever power above decided that the one to save the world from the darkest of all evils would be a teenage boy clearly had a sick sense of humor or a lacking knowledge of hormones.

Then again, Harry Potter always managed to surprise me. "Fine," he yawned, peering into a pot to see what Mrs. Weasley had stewing for dinner. "So, Bill and Fleur are engaged, huh?"

"Right?" I laughed. "Who would have thought? It surprised all of us."

"Feels like it came out of nowhere."

"It did," I confirmed. "I didn't even know they spoke outside of Order meetings, but then they show up one day and announce that they're getting married. You should've seen Mrs. Weasley's face."

"It's so strange," he yawned. "How people pop back into your life. I thought she'd just be a girl I shared the Triwizard competition with, but here she is, fighting with us. I never would have thought."

"I thought it was going to be Fleur," I mumbled into my tankard. Harry frowned at me, so I elaborated. "That died in the Triwizard. I figured, y'know…well, I Knew it wouldn't be you," he opened his mouth, probably to question why exactly I knew that, but I plowed on before he could, "and between the legal three competitors, we had a frightening Bulgarian Quidditch star, the golden boy of Hogwarts who I personally knew to be one of the brightest wizards of our time, aaaaand…a French girl. She seemed so…bubble-brained to me, you know? It seemed to me that, if someone was going to die in the Tournament, it would be her."

"It's true, then?" Harry asked evenly. "You really knew that someone was going to die."

I hesitated. This line of questioning could go several directions, and I didn't like any of them. Come to think of it, my conversations with the Boy Who Lived always seemed to flirt with dangerous territory. "Y-yes. I did. I do that sort of thing."

"Did you know Sirius was going to die, then?"

And there it was. The question I was most afraid of him asking. What was I supposed to do? Yes, Harry, it came to me clear as day the moment I saw him, but I didn't do a damn thing about it! Sorry 'bout that. More tea? This was the boy's godfather, the closest thing to his birth family he had ever and would ever know. Well, that liked him, at least. He had his mother's sister's family, but that lot seemed a bit woolly.

So, I did what I hated to do. I lied. I lied to the Boy Who Lived, who could survive a Killing Curse but could apparently not survive the truth, according to my logic.

"No, Harry. I don't get everything."

There was not much more for us to say, and Harry eventually wandered back to his friends. Remus and I sat in silence, alternately drinking out of our tankards as I sat with my unsettled thoughts.

"Eight-letter word for an ingredient in Elixir to Induce Euphoria."

"Wormwood," I answered automatically.

"Did you know Sirius was going to be killed?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"When he came in the room during the battle."

"There was nothing you could do," Remus informed me as he carefully wrote 'wormwood' on the paper. "So, wait, then, what would be a four-letter word for a plant used in the Famous French Method for a Mad Dog Bite?"

"I only know Herbology in relation to potion making," I reminded him glumly. Remus stared at the paper for a moment, waved his wand to remove the incorrect answer, and stared at the blank squares some more. "I probably could have done something."

"You couldn't," he told me firmly. "Don't blame yourself for Sirius's death, Melbecka. It wasn't your fault."

I grabbed the section of the Prophet closest to me as a distraction and sighed. "That's what I keep telling myself, but it's hard to get rid of the nagging. There's just this…" I trailed off as I read the small blurb in the bottom corner of the page I had. "Florean's been found."

"Really?" Remus's head perked up. He cast aside the crossword and stood up to hover over me, one hand on the table and one on the back of my chair, scanning the page for the article I saw. "Where is he? How is he?"

"Dead."

Remus sank back down in his seat. "Dammit." He rubbed his eyes wearily. "Every time…"

"Why him?" I asked. "He just sold ice cream. Ollivander could supply them with wands; it made sense to kidnap him. But Florean…"

"I'm sure they had their reasons. We'll figure it out, Mel," Remus sighed heavily.

I did not want to think any more about how we failed Florean, so I changed the subject quickly to something that had long lingered on my mind. "Are you in love with Tonks?"

"Excuse me?" Remus snapped his head up. "What did you ask?"

"Tonks. Are you in love with her?"

"I don't see how that is any of your business, Melbecka," he answered sharply.

I shrugged as if it did not matter to me, even though it absolutely did. "It's not. I just see the way you two look at each other. So, I wondered. That's all." Except I cared much more than I let on, of course. I desperately wanted Remus and Tonks to have a fairytale romance. The Order could use a bit of that right now. Bill and Fleur had to go falling in love in the background. What the hell where they thinking? Would it have killed them to be an adorable almost-couple in front of us? Seriously!

Remus groaned and massaged his forehead. "Things are not as simple as sharing looks across a crowded room, Mel."

"I know. But, if you love her, maybe it's worth risking it. I know there's a war-"

"I'm a werewolf, Mel."

"I…" That caught me off guard, and I jutted my face forward and narrowed my eyes to see him more clearly as I tried to figure out why that mattered. "Yes, sir, I am aware of your lycanthropy."

"It's not just an inconvenience," he snapped. "I'm a danger to her. One second is all it takes. Just one small lapse in judgment. Not to mention being with someone like me would absolutely ruin her name and sentence her to a life of poverty; I can't find work anywhere with the blasted legislation."

"Remus," I reached for his hand, and he surprised me by actually letting me take it, "if she truly loves you, and I think she does, then she doesn't care about any of that."

"She doesn't have to care," he reminded me, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before pulling himself free. "I do."

Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews! They always make me smile.

Next Chapter: Sleepless Nights and Brand New Days