A/N: These recent chapters have been pretty light, right? I'm afraid that it'll probably start getting a little darker again soon. This one is happy and sweet though.

I've decided that the best part about writing this story is going through the viewership demographics and seeing where all of you come from [I'm from the US]. It blows my mind how far-reaching this site is. There are some of you reading in countries like Bulgaria and Indonesia and Pakistan and so many more, and I can't express how awed and happy I am to be able to communicate with so many diverse people through such a humble platform. Thank you for reading and for sharing in my story with me. Sending you all happy thoughts and well wishes from across the globe!

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Chapter 29: Of Twenty Years and Twenty More

June passed into July peacefully. The Order's missions had been going well, and Rowan felt like they were finally gaining some momentum against the Death Eaters. Her father's final retaliation had taken down five influential Death Eaters including Ruprecht Lestrange – the patriarch of the Lestrange family – and the Dark Lord's forces were noticeably weaker. The Order was in great spirits.

July arrived, and with it came Rowan's twentieth birthday. As she looked in the mirror, she noted that perhaps her face looked a little thinner, but she couldn't really see any noticeable differences. She thought petulantly that all of her friends still looked much older than she, but she supposed she should feel grateful – many women paid good money for youthful appearances, after all.

The Marauders insisted that they go out to celebrate. They gathered in the Hog's Head for a change since they'd recently discovered that the barman was Aberforth Dumbledore. He gave them a free round of excellent aged firewhiskey, which glowed prettily against the dim light of the grungy pub. She laughed at the redness of Remus' face as he threw back the liquor with a grimace and felt like her body might float away at any moment with happiness.

Her friendship with Remus had also been going well. In fact, it nearly felt as if they were fifteen again at Hogwarts, leaning on each other for support in the hard times and happily playing off each other in the good. She still tried to avoid talking about Barty with him, as he would still visibly tense at the mention of his name, but otherwise, she felt more comfortable with him than she had in nearly a year. She couldn't express how thankful she was to truly have him back in her life.

"Where's Wormy?" Sirius demanded loudly, banging his glass on the table. He had an arm draped over Mina's shoulders. She scowled lightly at his sudden volume.

"He was getting dinner with Eris I think," Remus answered. "But he should be here…" he trailed slowly, looking around the bar. His face lit up with surprise as his gaze fell on the entrance. They all turned.

There stood Peter, craning his neck around to look for the group. He had been looking much happier and more confident as of late. He almost seemed like a different person, but what was most unusual was the woman standing next to him, whom Rowan assumed was his new girlfriend Eris.

She was taller than him by a few inches at least, with pale skin and thick dark hair. Her lips whispered of sensuality, and her posture spoke of refinement. Rowan felt a chill crawl up her spine. She suddenly understood Mina's words from the month before – she did look like her.

But she couldn't be sure what it was. Their features weren't necessarily the same - this woman's eyes were more cat-like, her nose slightly hooked - and the energies they exuded were completely different, but there was something in the woman's face that was eerily similar to her own. A heavy discomfort settled into her bones as she watched the pair approach the table. The mysterious woman clutched Peter's arm gracefully but somehow possessively, and he seemed to grow a few inches with pride at the looks of envy a few men at the bar shot his way. It was like looking into a strange alternate reality. Something in her skin crawled.

"Hey, guys!" Peter chirped happily. He pulled his companion forward gently. "Sorry I'm late. This is my girlfriend Eris!" He swelled with pride. He went down the line, introducing all of them. When he reached Rowan, she swore she saw a strange flicker in the other woman's eyes. She mustered as genuine of a smile as she could and shook her hand. Though warm, it felt lifeless. She suppressed a shiver.

Rowan turned to look at Remus's reaction. He was frowning at the new arrivals with a look of concentration, and Rowan felt relieved that she wasn't the only one who felt uncomfortable. She grabbed his sleeve beneath the table, and he shot her a quick glance from the corner of his eye. I know.

The others all seemed delighted though. James slapped Peter on the back happily as he sat down after pulling out a seat for Eris. The two sat closely, her arm still wrapped around his possessively. Her long pale fingers seemed to circle his arm like spider legs wrapped in its web. She saw Peter reach up and brush a strand of hair from Eris' face, the woman smiling warmly at him, and Rowan felt an uneasy wave of nausea. His fingers were stubby and thick, set into massive palms. She suddenly didn't want to look at him.

But why? She'd never looked at Peter with anything but fondness, even if it was secondary to the other men. He had always seemed sweet and innocent, although a little dim, but as she watched him laugh with James and Sirius with this strange reflection of her draped on his arm, a cold and sickening chill crept from her stomach and up her spine. Was she the only one who was disturbed by this scene?

"Hey Winnie, where's Barty?" Lily called down the table.

Rowan's head turned jerkily to see her friend smiling at her. The others all turned and stared. She forced a smile.

"Oh, he had to work tonight. It's no big deal, really," she said casually. Though she wasn't facing him, she could see the discomfort on Remus' face.

James scowled lightly. "What? He should be here! You don't turn twenty everyday!" he said indignantly. She shrugged and smiled apologetically at him.

"Is Barty your boyfriend?" a silky voice asked.

Rowan turned quickly and saw Eris looking at her earnestly. As their gazes met, Rowan felt a heavy silence in her mind for a moment. Something about the woman's eyes glowed, but almost artificially. Her gut churned slightly.

"Something like that," she said. She hoped it sounded casual. Eris smiled. They held eye contact for a second longer before Eris tore her eyes away to look at Peter. He gazed at her fiercely with a heated smile. Rowan's skin crawled again.

She looked down the table and saw Mina looking at her intensely. Like Remus, she was frowning. The corner of her lips twitched with concentration, and Rowan could see the thoughts flitting across her face quickly. Rowan caught her eye, and they shared a dark look.

The rest of the evening passed happily and loudly, despite the momentary interruption. The boys sang her the same screechy rendition of a happy birthday song that they had sung at Remus' birthday outing, and she cringed with a sheepish grin at the annoyed looks that the other patrons shot the table. Aberforth poured her liberal helpings of firewhiskey all night with a rough mussing of her hair, and by the time they all left Rowan was feeling quite tipsy.

Outside of the Hog's Head, their friends all said their goodbyes and last wishes to Rowan of a happy birthday. As she hugged Mina, the brunette whispered in her ear, "Let's talk later." Rowan's drunkenness subsided for a brief moment as she nodded gravely to her friend.

After Apparating back onto her street, Rowan laced her arm through Remus', just like from their days at Hogwarts, and stumbled slightly as they walked, feeling giddy and warm. Even in the dark of night, the summer air was quite hot, and she thought to herself that she was going to strip down to her underwear as soon as she got inside. She couldn't help the silly smile on her face.

She heard a soft laugh and looked up to see Remus gazing down at her with an amused grin.

"What're you looking at, Lupin?" she asked, pouting.

"You're drunk," he said with great mirth.

She blew a raspberry at him. He laughed and pulled his arm from hers, draping it over her shoulders. She hummed cheerily and wrapped her arm around his waist. Her head sang with happiness though her legs kept knocking into his as they walked. She giggled at her own drunken clumsiness.

"Okay, birthday girl, you need to walk in a straight line, or that cute face of yours is going to end up in the cobblestone," he said smartly.

"You think I'm cute?" she asked cheekily. He glared at her playfully. "Well, I can't help it. My legs are just moving on their own at this point. Like ge-la-tin!" she sang.

Suddenly his hands were on her waist, and she felt the world flip upside down. His shoulder was then digging into her stomach with her legs flailing under his hands.

"Remus!" she squealed, laughing loudly into the empty street. It echoed between the buildings

"I'm not letting you drunkenly take me down with you, you prat. Stop fidgeting," he teased, walking the remaining distance to her building. She laughed happily as the world spun around her.

As they stood on her front stoop, she expected him to put her down, but he carefully pulled out his keys from his pocket and opened the door, carefully maneuvering them inside and towards the stairs.

"Merlin – have you gotten heavier since we graduated?" he huffed.

"Rude!" she shot back in annoyance. She pinched his side hard through his shirt, and he yelped in pain before swatting her on the butt. She squealed. "You never comment on a woman's weight! You're a jerk, Remus Lupin!" she shouted.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm the jerk," he muttered. "Keep your voice down, you drunkard. Other people live here too, you know."

She huffed petulantly but kept quiet, listening to his steady breathing as he climbed the stairs. When they finally made it into her flat, he put her down on top of the table gently. Her head swam from the sudden change in orientation. He grinned at her.

"You're a mess," he said fondly. She grinned sheepishly at him and squinted slightly. Her vision was blurred from the alcohol, and the dim light didn't help.

"Don't move, okay?" he said. She nodded slowly, swaying slightly, as he walked to her sink. She heard the clinking of glass and the sound of running water. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Even the sound of him there felt right.

When he returned, she opened her eyes and saw him smiling amusedly at her. He carefully placed a glass of water in her hands.

"Drink up," he said. She nodded vaguely and downed the water slowly, relishing the coolness as it cascaded down her throat. When she finished, he looked satisfied and helped her down from the table.

"Can you get ready for bed by yourself or do you need help with that too?" he asked teasingly.

Rowan grinned but didn't respond. Instead, she held her arms over her head and turned her chin up at him expectantly with a cheeky smile.

He sighed exasperatedly but smiled, hauling her shirt over her head. She hummed pleasurably at the coolness of the night air on her bare skin and felt strangely unabashed at her nakedness. She saw his eyes darken for a moment at the sight of her, and she felt the old familiar ache. But despite the urge to touch him, she kept her arms down by her sides as he removed her shorts next.

But then he moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her form, his breath hitting her neck hotly and chest almost touching hers. She breathed shakily, and as she felt his fingers unhooking the clasp of her bra – rough fingers scraping her skin – the ache coiled. When he pulled away, his eyes made a final sweep over her form with a dark look, and she stood bare and shameless, wanting him to look at her. But then he turned to her wardrobe. She kicked herself mentally for her disappointment.

She longingly watched him open up the drawer with her tops and pulled out an old baggy t-shirt. He smiled softly – it was one of his. Her chest tightened.

"Up," he ordered. His deep voice resonated through the silence, into her bones. She raised her arms, and he slid the shirt down over her form, pulling her hair gently from the neckline. She shivered lightly as his fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her neck.

"Into bed," he said quietly, eyes burning into her. She nodded weakly and crawled under the covers. He tucked her in tenderly, sweeping her hair from her face with warm hands. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling before looking back up at him again.

The scars on his face seemed to glow in the moonlight. Her fingers tingled with the urge to reach up and touch him, but her limbs suddenly felt so heavy. Her bed suddenly felt so comfortable, like her body was melting into it.

"I'm twenty now," she breathed. She wasn't sure if it was to him or herself. He smiled softly.

"You are," he agreed. "How does it feel?"

Rowan thought for a moment, her eyes drooping slightly. "I'm not sure. Sad, maybe," she said. "It makes me afraid of the next twenty years for some reason." She gazed at him and paused. Twenty years with him in it - would she spend the next twenty without him?

"You didn't give me a present this year," she whispered. He smiled softly at her.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "What would you like?"

She looked at him ardently, her thoughts rushing through her head. It was a stupid request, and she knew she'd regret it in the morning, but she couldn't hold back the words.

"Will you kiss me?" she whispered.

A low heat flickered across his face, but he didn't answer. He stared at her for a moment, the silence heavy between them. She could see the indecision dripping down his face, and she knew that if she'd been sober, she'd feel embarrassed for her lack of propriety.

But then he leaned forward slowly, and as she saw his jaw move upward over her brow, she closed her eyes. His lips pressed against her right brow. She felt his breath graze her skin softly, and then he moved to her cheekbone, where he pressed another soft kiss. She opened her eyes to look at him and saw the flecks of green in his gaze. They flickered downward, and her breath stopped. He moved slowly, and as his lips pressed against hers softly, the tightened coil in her chest released. The silence covered her hotly. He smelled of firewhiskey and sweat and home.

When he pulled away, it was slow, hesitant. She opened her eyes again and met his gaze. He smiled softly at her, and she wanted to see him with a pillow beneath his head, beside her and wrapped in cotton sheets.

"Happy birthday, Winnie," he whispered. She smiled gently.

"Thank you, Remus."