"You should have realized," he said quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter."
Remus jolted in place and reached for his wand, determined to kill Wormtail.
To his surprise, his wand wasn't in his pocket. Nor was he wearing his shabby, darned robes. His body didn't feel right - why couldn't he move his limbs? His eyelids flickered open; he wasn't even in the Shrieking Shack!
"Sirius!" he gasped, his eyes flying open. He searched for any sign of a dog, rat, or the kids—oh Merlin, the moon—
"You're awake!" a feminine voice cried.
Remus was assaulted by a mop of pink strands.
Where was the pink coming from?
"How are you? Are you all right?" the feminine voice asked, now pulling away from his face enough that he found its owner.
A very pretty, pink-haired witch looked back at him. She had a heart-shaped face, dark, sparkling eyes, and a delicate dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
She was also heavily pregnant, or so he thought, but he didn't dare ask for confirmation in case he was mistaken.
His mind was still reeling from the sudden change in his surroundings.
"Remus?"
"W-where—"
"St. Mungo's," the witch supplied. "It's been four days."
Four days since what? He'd remembered trying to kill Wormtail…Sirius was innocent…the kids were in danger…the moon approached!
"Sirius?" he croaked, trying to raise his head from the thin pillow.
The witch's eyebrows came together. Remus realized that she wasn't wearing the usual lime green robes of St. Mungo's Healers – who was she?
"Err…he's not here," she said, her voice low and restrained. "I think I need to get a Healer. I'll be right back."
She waddled out the door. Remus was certain she was expecting, based on her labored movements. He wondered what a very pregnant, non-Healer witch was doing in his hospital room.
He rolled his head from side to side. On his bedside table sat his wand. He tried to reach for it, but his limbs felt too heavy. The wooden armchair on the other side of his bed had two cloaks hanging off it: he recognized the patched brown as his, but the wooly grey was unfamiliar. He supposed it belonged to the mysterious witch and wondered if she was from the Ministry.
A Healer appeared in the doorway with the pink-haired witch at his side, muttering rapidly at each other.
"Hello, Mr. Lupin," the Healer announced, interrupting the muttering. The witch sat down gingerly in the wooden chair and rested her hands on her swollen belly.
"Hello," replied Remus, his confusion increasing exponentially by the second.
"Your wife tells me she thinks you've suffered a brain injury."
He gaped at the Healer, certain he had the wrong patient. Remus had never been able to keep a girlfriend, let alone subject someone to a miserable life with him.
"I'm Healer Shafiq, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Remus could only stare at Shafiq, who acted surprisingly pleasant. Remus had never been treated with such civility at St. Mungo's - not with his lycanthropy permanently staining his health records.
He was sure he was being mistaken for someone else who shared the surname Lupin. Some other Lupin had suffered a brain injury, had an attractive, pregnant wife, and got treated with respect at St. Mungo's.
Remus Lupin couldn't be that someone.
Shafiq frowned and cast a diagnostic charm on his head.
"Your language skills ought to be intact. Why don't we start from the beginning?" Shafiq suggested, glancing back at the witch, whose face was unreadable. Her hair looked less pink than before, and Remus wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him, as her eyes were lighter grey, too.
"What is your full name and date of birth?"
Remus felt a sense of dread wash over him; those questions were too simple.
"10 March," he said hoarsely, seeing the Healer nod. "1960. Lupin…Remus. Remus John."
"And how old are you now?" asked Shafiq.
"34."
The witch gasped audibly and clapped her hands to her mouth.
"Is that wrong?" Remus asked, his worry now replaced with panic.
"It is, but you did just have a birthday two weeks ago," Shafiq replied coolly, overturning a sheet under his nose. He looked over his shoulder at the witch, who stared at them in horror.
"Do you know who this is?" Shafiq stepped to the side and gestured to the witch. Remus stared at her for what he felt was too long. If he wasn't being asked to recognize her, he'd have turned away much sooner for fear of looking inappropriate and lecherous.
Remus saw the fear and trepidation in her eyes. If she was afraid of him, it would make sense, but why was she there in the first place?
"I don't," he finally said, turning away from her gaze.
"You don't remember me at all?" she asked shakily. "Not even my name?"
Remus shook his head weakly, mumbling "I'm sorry."
"It's not every day you can introduce someone's spouse," Shafiq said, apparently unable to read the tension in the room. "Mr. Lupin, this is your wife, Nymphadora—"
"It's Tonks," the witch called Nymphadora said hotly. Her features softened as she turned back to Remus. "You call me Dora."
Remus didn't know what to do or say; was she Tonks, Nymphadora, or Dora?
"Can you give us a minute, please, Shafiq? I need to talk to my husband."
Remus wanted to protest; he shouldn't be alone in a room with a young woman who couldn't possibly be his wife. He'd moved past thinking it was someone else's life he'd stepped into, and was now convinced someone was playing a cruel trick on him.
The Healer left and the witch with too many names stared back at him, her eyes watering slightly.
"I'm sorry," she said, waving her hand around her face. "It's the bloody hormones." She bit the inside of her cheek and stared at him. "You really don't remember me?"
"No, and I think you've made a mistake," Remus said, bolder than he felt. "There's something wrong. You must understand, Sirius Black is innocent."
"I know, Remus. He was innocent."
His mouth grew dry. Severus had mentioned the Dementor's Kiss; was it possible? He shuddered: not the Kiss, not after Peter had been found out—
"What's the last thing you remember?"
Remus took a sharp breath, at a loss for what to say or how to describe his predicament. "Do you know what I am?" he blurted, not knowing how else to proceed.
"You're a werewolf," the witch replied gently. "I know, Remus. You're my husband. I love you, wolf and all."
All the air left his lungs. It was impossible – impossible – that she was telling the truth. But the way she spoke, the glitter of a ring on her left hand, and earnest expression made him hope, just for a moment, that it was true.
"Just tell me what you remember," she said, groaning as she stood from her place. She shuffled to his side and brought her hand to his face.
He flinched and backed away instinctually, ready to be slapped or struck. It simply had to be a painful prank being played on him.
"Oh," she whispered, her eyes tearing up again. "You weren't expecting this."
Remus swallowed hard and watched her bring her hand up again, slowly, as if she were approaching a wild animal.
"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," she said, her voice breaking. "Can I hold your hand?"
Remus was terrified he was being watched; he'd be pressured to hold her hand and someone would come out of the shadows and curse him for touching her.
"It's all right. It can be a no."
The witch with too many names looked so hurt that it pained him to see. His left hand twitched toward hers, seemingly of its own accord.
She took it, shocking him with her warmth and softness. He looked down at where their hands met and stifled a gasp.
He wore a gold band on his ring finger.
"You don't remember me at all, do you?"
Remus shook his head. He would've remembered a witch willing to touch him like this, especially after learning he was a werewolf. Even if it was a joke, he would remember this.
"Do you remember my name, from a few minutes ago?"
Remus opened his mouth, recalling she wanted to be called something else.
"Okay," she said shakily, "I'm your wife, Nymphadora Lupin. Nobody but my mother calls me Nymphadora. I was called Tonks – my maiden name – before we got married. Everybody still calls me Tonks except you and—and—"
She burst into tears. Remus sat, uncomfortable and bewildered, wondering how to react. She squeezed his hand tightly while she sobbed, her face growing blotchy and red with her crying.
She let go of his hand and conjured tissues from the end of her wand, an impressive bit of charm work. Remus felt strangely lonely without her hand in his.
"'M sorry, it was just you and dad who called me Dora and he died a couple weeks ago, fucking Snatchers took him away and left his body to rot in the woods."
Remus stared at her blankly, not knowing what a Snatcher was or why her father was taken away.
It seemed that his predicament was but one mystery among many.
"Listen," said Tonks, wiping her nose with one of her conjured tissues, "we've got to get you out of here by tomorrow. The Death Eaters are champing at the bit to get to us."
"Death Eaters?" Remus sputtered. "How?"
Her tears were replaced by a look of utter pity. "There's so much to tell you. Let me just – I should get the Healer. We need to get you out of here."
She shuffled back out of his room. A small mountain of tissues were left where she'd been standing.
None of Remus's questions were answered, and to his guilt-ridden astonishment, he wasn't sure if he should be more worried for the return of Death Eaters or Sirius's fate. Both were equally distressing.
…
Tonks didn't return quickly. In her absence, Remus looked at the ring on his left hand, which didn't look new. There was nothing else in the room – save for the two cloaks on the back of the chair – that suggested she was telling the truth. Nothing betrayed a lie, however, save for Tonks's obvious pregnancy.
It remained the chief reason why Remus couldn't accept what she'd said. Even if, by some miracle, he'd managed to convince her to marry him, he would never have gotten her pregnant. His kind didn't breed; he knew himself too well to know he'd never pass his condition onto an innocent child.
Perhaps, he pondered, he'd married her to keep her safe from some harm, or if she'd married him for that reason. Perhaps she was expecting someone else's child and he was available to help.
That reasoning didn't add up, either – no self-respecting witch would want a werewolf for a husband, let alone a stepfather, but if Death Eaters had returned—
He frowned, wondering why he hadn't asked after the obvious: where was Dumbledore?
He was running through the possibilities in his head when Tonks returned with a familiar face: his father.
"Dad?" he asked, blinking rapidly.
"Son," Lyall said, eyeing him up and down. "Your wife told me what happened and snuck me in."
Remus did a double-take. Tonks's hair was back to a bubblegum pink.
"You know her?"
"I told you," said Tonks, leaning on Lyall for support as she sat down on the foot of Remus's bed. "It's bad. He can't remember anything after—"
"It was June. June, 1994," Remus said, his confidence rising with his father in the room. He froze still, wondering if his father had been Imperiused or someone was using Polyjuice Potion. If Death Eaters were back, anything was possible.
"Go on," Lyall urged. "You were teaching at Hogwarts that year."
"Dumbledore. Get Dumbledore."
Tonks buried her face in her hands. Lyall's eyes drooped down slightly.
"Albus is dead, son. He died last summer. It's 1998."
A cold, heavy feeling invaded Remus's body. Tonks reached her arm out to him, but he clenched his hands into fists at his sides.
"He won't believe us," Tonks said sadly, turning to face Lyall. "Is there anything you can say?"
Lyall crossed his arms and nodded at her. With a grunt, she stood and clunked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
"Before you say anything," Lyall began, "I promise that young woman is your wife. She's having your son."
Remus choked on his next breath. Lyall came to help, but Remus shook him off.
Lyall sat back down, and once Remus's coughs had subsided, told him everything he needed to know.
Sirius was innocent and Peter escaped. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were fine, to the best of anyone's knowledge. They were adults now, on the run, and wanted by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ("Don't say the name! It's got a Taboo on it!"). Remus had forgotten to take his Wolfsbane Potion that night and resigned the next day, another Defense professor who lasted a single year.
Sirius only lived another two years; Lyall didn't know all the details, but Harry Potter and his friends were caught breaking into the Ministry in '96. Remus and Tonks were there, somehow, and everyone but Sirius made it out alive.
Last summer, Remus asked Tonks to marry him, weeks after Severus Snape murdered Dumbledore. Remus had to be convinced that Snape had been a traitor, and as Lyall knew so little, he'd had to bring Tonks back into the room to fill in the details and confirm the terrible truth. She promised to bring him copies of The Daily Prophet when she found them. (Upon seeing that her hair was turquoise, he got another shock upon learning that his wife was a Metamorphmagus. He could barely process that he was married, let alone to a witch with such a rare gift.)
With Tonks's help, Remus learned they eloped in a tiny wizarding village in Scotland, and he had gotten her pregnant. He left, ashamed, and she took him back. Lyall didn't know anything about their relationship until Remus arrived at his Cardiff home last July, to ask after his mother's wedding ring. Tonks was smiling by then and showed Remus the glittery ring his mother had once worn.
Lyall had only recently heard the news of Tonks's pregnancy, at Christmas. Everyone was in hiding and owl post wasn't secure. Even Patronuses could be overheard. They waited till Christmas to see Lyall again (Remus lived with his wife and mother-in-law, who, in another twist, happened to be Sirius's first cousin, Andromeda). They'd announced the pregnancy to Lyall then, and cast the charm to find out the baby's sex. A little boy was expected in the next month.
While Lyall told Remus what had happened, he interspersed details from Remus's life that only a father would know. Remus was cursed with lycanthropy a month before his fifth birthday, and Lyall was largely to blame for the attack. They used to play football in the Muggle park, even though they were terrible at it, because they couldn't afford a broomstick. Until Dumbledore came to their doorstep, the Lupins were convinced Remus would never have a normal life. (Lyall had said, with a sad smile, that Remus's life wasn't what he'd hoped it would be, but he'd done all he could to make it better.)
Hope, Remus's mother, made Welsh cakes topped with cinnamon sugar every Sunday morning, even if the full moon had been the night before. Lyall gave Remus both his and Hope's wedding rings ahead of his marriage to Tonks, as well as the traditional Welsh spoon the Lupins had gotten as a gift the year before Remus was born. At Christmas, Lyall gave them the few baby things Hope held onto in case Remus ever married and had a child of his own.
By the time his father finished speaking, Remus was beginning to believe what he was being told, even if it made little sense.
How had he managed to convince an Auror to marry him?
"Former Auror," Tonks had said bitterly. "Couldn't keep working there, especially not if I was up the duff with a werewolf's baby."
Where were Harry, Ron, and Hermione?
"No one knows. Harry's going to be our baby's godfather, you know."
What happened to Peter Pettigrew?
"Ran off to You-Know-Who. Last we heard he was at Malfoy Manor. No one knows if he's still alive."
How did Severus Snape become Headmaster?
"Once he killed Dumbledore, Death Eaters took over the school. McGonagall's only there to make sure the students don't get killed."
The questions kept coming. Though some answers were satisfactory, others were perplexing. Yet others, like his apparent marriage and impending fatherhood, were too good to be true, though he decided not to comment on that yet.
Lyall had to leave the hospital before it was too late. Kingsley Shacklebolt was the one ensuring his security to and from his home. Tonks, despite her pregnancy, had refused to leave Remus's side. She simply transfigured the wooden hospital chair to a makeshift cot and slept in his room while he healed.
It inspired something warm and comforting in Remus's chest, though he didn't say anything about that feeling, either.
Instead, he let Tonks kiss his forehead goodnight. By then, his eyes were closing on their own and he was too tired to go on. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered if it was all a dream. He held out a sliver of hope that it wasn't, as his wife really was very pretty.