A/N: Are you all still there...? *shivers in the howling wind*

sarahmichellegellarfan1: It seems that you will always be my solid reviewing companion throughout the story... Thank you for always being there to throw me a few words of encouragement in the silence T-T

misslak: Sorry for the wait! Rowan will definitely not end up [permanently] with an OC, so no worries. This is and always will be a Remus x Rowan fic. I mean, don't all the best love stories involve a shit ton of longing and angst? [at least in stories. Maybe not in real life] Thank you for the reviews!

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Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Chapter 28: Of Memory's Melody

When Rowan confided in her girl friends about her growing relationship with Barty, Mina had been very suspicious. Being an Auror, she also worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and she'd recently had a case for which she'd been required to work with him. It had left her feeling uneasy.

"Something about him just rubs me the wrong way. I know he seems like a nice guy, but I think he's much more like his father than he lets on," she said to Rowan seriously. "Just be careful with him, okay?" she warned. Rowan was unsure of how to feel about it.

Though she took her friend's warnings to heart, she was feeling confident about her strange relationship with the young man. May surprisingly passed happily and brightly for Rowan. She went on a few casual dates with Barty, which had all been comfortable and fun, and he stopped by a couple more times at her flat, always with an offering of sweets or flowers. He was always a gentleman – he held doors and pulled out chairs and walked her home after their dates – but he made no move to do more than kiss her on the cheek goodnight. She felt very relieved.

She'd seen Barty Sr. twice since they'd begun their charade. She'd stopped by the Ministry to meet Barty Jr. for lunch and exchanged some words with his father both times, and he'd looked extremely pleased at the sight of them together. He suggested that he was working hard on Karkaroff's case, implying that he was taking a hard stance and eyeing her with a piercing look, and it renewed Rowan's determination in continuing her act.

Though the Marauders all understood her reasons for seeing Barty, they still weren't entirely pleased about it. James and Sirius still interrogated her after every date, and the guilt and hurt she felt when facing Remus was immense. He never brought up their conversation about her moving on again, and though she'd meant everything she'd said, she still ached painfully at the sight of his longing looks. She wondered if it would be better for either of them to distance herself or try to spend more time with him to compensate.

But they'd continued their friendship, and he still insisted on walking her home at night, regardless of what time it was. She tried to avoid talking about Barty around him, and though they resumed a level of comfort around each other, her thoughts of the other man made her feel wistful and increasingly unsatisfied with her relationship with Remus.

She knew it was wrong to compare the two, but where Remus was distant and awkward with her, Barty was bright and engaging. She had forgotten what it was like to have a man show so much interest in her, and though she knew her relationship with Remus was much deeper than any casual flirtations, even in the last days of their relationship, he had barely even been able to smile at her genuinely, let alone make her laugh. When was the last time they'd really shared a happy moment together?

Peter had been suspiciously missing as of late. Mina and Sirius whispered to Rowan conspiratorially about a woman he'd met at work and had been seeing, a treasure hunter named Eris Eripice. They'd run into them at dinner once and said that she was very beautiful – a dark-haired beauty. Mina mentioned with some discomfort [Rowan noted it for later] that she looked slightly like Rowan, which Sirius found amusing. He joked that perhaps Peter fancied Rowan as well. Rowan laughed it off with mirth. After all, it was utterly ridiculous to think that Peter would ever look at her like that, right?

Rowan sat in the basement of Delacroix Manor, leaning back in her chair dangerously with her eyes squeezed shut. Formulas and numbers ran through her mind quickly. Her hair was tied messily in a thick mass on top of her head. A series of books were scattered across the table, and in front of her was the sleek gray quill Remus had given her for her seventeenth birthday and a practice test of sorts.

She couldn't get research grants or access to lycanthropic mice without a Potioneer's license, and although she'd been studying under Belby for nearly two years when he'd died, her memory was hazy. Instead of undergoing a typical apprenticeship with her master making her brew and research a wide array of draughts, she'd spent nearly all of her time working in a very specialized field. Though she often refilled any of the apothecary's stocks with her own potions since Belby had little patience for anything beyond his own research, she was still out of practice when it came to her theory knowledge.

She'd bought a series of licensing exam prep books, and though she was speeding through them with relative ease, there were still times when she'd hit a wall and realize that she'd forgotten much more than she'd thought. This was one of those moments.

Suddenly, she heard the door to the basement open, and steady footsteps down the stairs followed. A twinge of annoyance hit her, and she covered her ears from the noise, desperately scouring her mind for the answer to the practice test question in front of her. Her eyes remained squeezed shut as she balanced precariously on the back two feet of the chair.

She knew that the person who had entered stood next to her, but she kept her eyes and ears screwed shut. Her own voice recited loudly through her mind, but she kept coming up short. Finally, she opened her eyes with great frustration and saw that it wasn't her mother or Alfred, but in fact Remus standing next to her with a confused expression on his face.

Surprise hit her with blood rushing to her face, and suddenly she felt herself tipping backwards. Panic settled into her quickly as she felt her feet leave the edge of her desk, and her field of vision quickly flipped. She let out a panicked cry as her chair tipped and fell, and she spilled onto the floor with a loud crash.

Rowan's ears were filled with laughter as she groaned. She opened her eyes somewhat painfully to see Remus peering down at her with his eyes shining with great mirth at her lack of grace. She glared up at him, but he just continued laughing.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" he gasped. "I just can't believe that just happened!"

She wanted to feel annoyed at him for laughing at her, but the sight of him suddenly so happy threatened to force a smile to her face – how long had it been since she'd seen him laugh so wholeheartedly?

She rolled out of her chair onto her hands and knees and struggled to her feet with a groan. She noted that she'd have a bruise on her elbow soon.

"Hey, are you okay?" Remus asked, the remnants of laughter still stretched across his face. His eyes danced amusedly, and she couldn't help but smile sheepishly back.

"Yeah," she admitted somewhat embarrassedly. "I thought you were Alfred – took me off guard."

He grinned. "Sorry about that. What were you doing anyway?" he asked, stooping down to pick her chair back up.

"I'm studying for my P.A.T.s," she replied, moving back to the desk and closing her book.

"Your what?" Remus asked. His face screwed up with confusion.

She grinned. "My Potioneers Accreditation Test," she clarified. "I can't get any research grants until I get licensed as a registered Potioneer, and then I'll need to take the Master of Potions Exam, or M.o.P.E.s, after to become a Potions Master, though that probably won't happen for another couple of years at least."

Remus looked at her thoughtfully. "I see," he said. "Do you think the Ministry names every exam something ridiculous on purpose?" he asked.

She grinned. "Probably. I bet there's some drunk bloke at the Ministry right now naming some herbologist exam something absurd like H.E.R.P.s. They must come up with the acronyms prior to the test name," she said.

They snickered softly before Rowan looked at him, realizing again how odd his presence was.

"What're you doing here?" she asked.

He smiled softly at her. "I realized that we haven't really hung out recently and thought maybe you'd want to just… well, hang out," he said. There was a tinge of nervousness there, and she felt a wave of warmth wash over her. She smiled.

"Yeah, sure. We can head back to my flat if you want. It's a little stuffy here," she offered.

He smiled. "Sure."

Rowan stepped into her apartment with Remus behind her feeling slightly nervous. He hadn't been there for some weeks, as he usually left as soon as she was safe inside. She noted with a twinge of sadness that her most frequent male guest as of late had been Barty. For some reason, she felt guilty, as if she had been cheating, though she couldn't be sure on whom or with whom.

The warm June sun spilled into her flat, reflecting off her wooden floors and violin, which she realized that she'd left out on her table before leaving for her family's manor. She moved quickly to put it away as Remus removed his shoes.

"So you did decide to start playing again," he said, eyeing the instrument.

Rowan nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, it's been helping me relax," she said, opening up the case and reaching for her bow. Remus sat down at the table.

"Didn't you promise to play for me?" he asked teasingly.

Rowan glanced over at him and blushed. "Yeah, I suppose so," she said bashfully. She'd had every intention of following through with that, but she suddenly felt very embarrassed.

"Well, play me something then," he said cheekily, sitting back in his seat and grinning at her.

Rowan's face burned slightly. "But I'm out of practice," she blurted. "You don't want to hear me play now!"

"Oh, come on, Winnie. I'm sure you're just being modest," he encouraged her. "Please!"

She shifted uneasily, staring at the violin in her hands. She wasn't sure why she felt so uncomfortable playing for Remus suddenly. It seemed strangely intimate. But as she looked at his pleading face, she knew she couldn't argue. She sighed resignedly and picked it up.

Remus grinned goofily at her, and she smiled awkwardly as she set the instrument on her shoulder, grasping it with her chin. She ran her hand up the neck and set the bow on the strings lightly. The sun glinted off of the polished wood prettily. She took a deep breath.

She started with a long pull of her bow – a sweet, resounding note – before setting into a slow, melancholy melody, the same she'd been playing when Barty had first arrived on her doorstep in May. It had been her father's favorite, a surprisingly sweet preference for the typically fierce man. Indeed, she'd been inspired to pick the instrument back up again because of his passing, feeling as if perhaps she could hold onto a piece of him as she played.

She had many memories of standing in front of the fireplace of the drawing room as a little girl, performing the same song for Richard and his colleagues. When her mother had insisted on her taking lessons, she'd initially disliked them despite loving the music – sitting in a room for long periods of time with her stuffy tutors had been exhausting when all she'd wanted to do was climb trees and roll in the dirt. But when she saw how much it pleased her parents, how her father would glow with pride, she'd accepted them resignedly. She had to admit that she had a natural talent for it, and though she'd abandoned it after leaving for Hogwarts, she found that it all came back easily with every stroke of her bow.

Her fingers pressed against the strings instinctively. Every muscle in her arms and hands knew the song by heart, even after all the years of disuse. She didn't have to watch her fingers as they moved – she simply knew that after the high flat E came the shift to the deep, resounding D, and as her hand slid up the neck, her last finger automatically extended to graze the harmonic – a sad and haunting goodbye.

The note resonated throughout the room, within her chest. Rowan opened her eyes and saw the summer sun glinting off the swell of the warm polished wood. It was like her final note had evaporated into light. A bittersweet ache rippled through her softly.

She held the violin tenderly for a moment before slowly removing it from her shoulder. She glanced tentatively at Remus.

He was leaning forward with his elbows on the table, hands grasped together, looking at her with a fiery intensity. His mouth was pulled into a taut line, and his eyes burned into her. He hadn't looked at her with so much heat for a long time. Her chest tightened almost painfully.

"Beautiful," he said quietly. Heavy admiration laced through his voice.

Her lips twitched into a small smile, cheeks burning red again, but didn't respond as she turned to place the violin back into the case. She couldn't bear to see him look at her like that for long. She didn't trust her own voice. As she loosened the hairs in the bow, he spoke again.

"How long did you play before you quit your lessons?" he asked.

"Almost seven years," she answered, locking the bow into the case. "My mother insisted that I start taking lessons very young, but I abandoned it after leaving for school. This is a new violin actually since my old one was for a child." She closed the case and moved towards the shelf.

Remus nodded and gazed at her thoughtfully as she moved towards the kitchen counter after placing the case in its proper place. She began pulling out her tea set, reaching around the cabinets quietly.

"That song seemed significant to you," he noted softly.

Rowan's movements slowed, holding the teapot in her hands gently. She gazed at the intricate gray patterns stained into its surface.

"Yes," she replied quietly. "It was my father's favorite. I used to play it for him all the time when I was a little girl. I didn't see him often – he was always busy with work - but he never passed up an opportunity to hear me play." She smiled sadly at the memory.

Richard's proud gaze burned into her mind, and she had to push the tears back that threatened to break through - she would never see him look at her that way again. She hadn't cried for weeks over her father's death, and certainly not without the comfort of night. Her head pounded with embarrassment as she blinked the heat from her eyes quickly. Why was it that she could never keep herself together while with Remus?

Then she felt a hand on hers, gently guiding the teapot from her grasp and settling it on the counter. It gripped her arm and turned her slowly. She looked at Remus' chest and couldn't bring her eyes upward to his face.

He wore a clean white shirt that seemed to glow with the light. A long scar poked up from beneath it and over his collarbone, and she wanted to press her lips against it as she used to do so frequently. She wanted to do so many things that she couldn't anymore, like tangle her fingers in his hair or wrap her arms around his waist. Hell, she wanted to be able to just look at him without feeling dirty. The sadness she'd been trying to quell suddenly surged to her throat again, and she had to bite it down bitterly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Her eyes shot to his face. He was looking down at her with a pained expression. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

"I shouldn't have made you play. I didn't realize-" he said apologized quietly, but she cut him off.

"No," she said firmly. Something about his voice sparked the fire back in her, and she felt her sorrow slip away slowly. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who chose the song, and I'm glad you heard it." She smiled genuinely, and his face seemed to melt with relief. "Besides, what's the use of playing if one doesn't have someone to listen?"

He smiled warmly, and she wanted to disappear into it. His hands still held her arms gently. He leaned forward slowly and kissed her hair gently.

Though her face felt warm, she closed her eyes and savored the pressure of his lips against her. Logically, she knew she should feel uneasy, but no matter how she reasoned, it felt comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. She breathed deeply.

When he pulled away, she felt strangely light. He smiled at her gently, and she couldn't help but smile back. His grip on her fell away, and he looked down the counter with an indiscernible expression. She followed his gaze and saw that they were looking at a bright bunch of purple blossoms that stood in a clear vase.

"Monkshood," she clarified. Remus' mouth tightened.

"Did Barty give those to you?" he asked quietly, still gazing at the flowers.

She felt herself falter for a moment, guilt creeping into her throat before pushing it away. What did she need to feel ashamed about?

"Yes," she answered carefully. "He sometimes brings me flowers. He thinks it's funny seeing me with them since I'm such a tomboy." She turned back to her teapot to keep her hands busy. For some reason, she felt anxious with Remus looking at the vase.

Remus didn't say anything for a while, but just stood behind her as she boiled water on the stove. She could feel his gaze on her but refused to turn back around. She wasn't sure if she wanted to read the thoughts on his face.

After she'd poured the water into the teapot with the leaves, she turned and saw Remus looking down at her earnestly. There was that quietly intense look again, but it was gentler. There was no anger there, as she'd almost expected. She saw a slight sorrow but it was mostly warm. He smiled, and something bloomed in her happily. She smiled back.

"Can you grab the milk and sugar?" she asked brightly. His eyes crinkled fondly at her before turning towards the cabinets, allowing her to carry the teapot over to the table. A couple of teacups and saucers floated behind her. As they settled onto the table with a light clinking, they glinted in the sunlight. The last note of her father's favorite song rang in her chest, though it no longer felt bittersweet. She smiled at the sound.