NOTE

Content warning: Wilma's mental state is difficult throughout this chapter. She also has a complex and sometimes negative relationship with her pregnancy.

24. Wind

I woke up with my heart racing inexplicably. The dream had not been frightening, but something about it had left me anxious. My hair felt slightly damp from sweat. I exhaled shakily and turned to seek refuge in Remus's sleeping warmth.

But he was not there.

The illusion or the expectation of his presence had been so strong that I was shocked to find the rest of the bed empty and cold.

"Remus?" I called towards the loo, needing to hear a familiar voice.

There was no answer.

Perhaps he had woken very early–dawn light was already bleeding into the clouds outside–and wandered into the classroom, not wanting to disturb me. I put on my socks and my dressing gown over my pyjamas, for it had grown quite cold in the bedroom, and walked into the bedroom doorway.

Morning light lay its fingers across the barren rows of wooden desks. The fire was black and cold. No Remus.

A stab of panic finally hit me. My heart kicking up to a gallop, I turned to look back into the bedroom. Remus's carpetbag was gone from the top of the small wardrobe. I crossed the room, shaking with dread, and opened the drawers. But they contained none of his few clothes. His shoes were gone. His wand. Everything.

Him.

I heard my own gasp shudder forth from my lips, and my hand went to my mouth, trembling. I imagined him slipping out of bed while I'd been asleep, perhaps pacing for some time, trying to avoid the decision he had already made. Then he had packed his things and gone. The emptiness I'd felt in my dream had come from reality. Some part of myself surely sensed him leaving. Why hadn't I woken up?

He hadn't even left a note.

My heart reared up into my throat. Perhaps there was still time. I ran out of the classroom and through the freezing castle to the first place that came to mind–McGonagall's office. I was panting with adrenaline from the stairs as I knocked on the door frantically.

Minerva was already awake, a permanent early riser from her years as a professor. She answered the door promptly, fully dressed in her green robes.

The sight of her triggered something in me, and I burst suddenly into tears. She saw my panic, and looked taken aback.

"What is it, Wilma?" she asked, pulling me into her office by the shoulder and shutting the door. I was wringing my hands, unable to sit down.

This wasn't nearly as hard to spit out as last night's news had been. "Did you see Remus this morning at all?" I heard myself say.

"No, I didn't," she said, still looking confused for another moment before something clicked behind her eyes, and her face filled with disappointment and pity.

I jumped at the sound of a knock on the door, and a moment later Severus opened it. He clearly had no information about Remus, and had only come to speak with Minerva, for when he saw me, in tears and all, he looked startled.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

But I was already tearing past him and back down the stone steps. I heard Minerva's voice calling after me, "Miss Weasley!" but I didn't slow down.

My mind was racing. I'd been foolish to imagine that Remus would have told anyone about his decision to leave. It would be up to me to figure out where he'd gone. I would have to leave at once. I couldn't say anything about the pregnancy. If Poppy heard about it, she'd have to report it to the Ministry. Besides, I didn't want anyone to know about it yet. Especially not now that I was alone.

But I pressed the word from my mind. I would not remain alone. I would find Remus. I would. And when I did, I would forgive him, and he would come back to me.

Back in the bedroom I steadied my breathing until my tears were gone. I was still in a hurry, though, as I changed out of my pyjamas into my warmest clothes. I decided to leave at once, and to leave behind all of my belongings except for my wand. I wouldn't be needing anything else.

I ran into Neville on my way out to the Quidditch pitch. He'd been carrying a tall stack of Herbology books, and they fell onto the flagstones as I passed in a rush.

"Sorry, Neville," I said, bending down on instinct to help him pick them up, but stopping myself. I couldn't waste a moment.

"Alright, Wilma?" he asked me, looking nervously at my face. I must have looked a fright; for all the world like the north wind, on a mission of murder.

"Fine, Neville. I have to– sorry–" and I escaped him.

The sun was just rising over the vastness of the forbidden forest as I ran across the dewy grass to the broomshed. It felt like foreshadowing now, my time in the air with Remus the other day.

My eyes swept around the shack when I stepped inside, looking to see if any brooms were noticeably missing. But I couldn't tell. Perhaps he had flown, perhaps apparated… however he'd gone, I thought that he might have gone to Hunston first. I knew he would never face Andromeda after leaving another wife behind, but the area was familiar to him. Perhaps he was hiding out in the woods near that small church until he got his bearings, and decided where to go next.

But first I would stop by the cottage where I'd first met him months ago, outside the village of Eddleston. It seemed a more likely place, and was much closer.

I spotted the same broom I'd used the other day and chose that one. I knew my way around it, and it would be easy to handle on the journey. I felt my heartbeat in my hands as I gripped the broomstick and prepared to kick off.

Briefly the thought skated across my mind that I must have been mad. But I didn't care. There was no time to waste; any second, Minerva or Severus would catch up to me, and come out to try and hold me back.

Without further hesitation I kicked off from the wet grass, and sped through the high, cold air, heading south-east.

The journey to Eddleston took three hours.

I spotted the still-sleeping village from above the clouds and continued south until I spotted the bend in the muggle road, and saw the grey stone cottage. The sun was well up by then, and the sky was wickedly beautiful. I flew until I was hovering very high up, directly over the roof. I didn't want to land in the field and for Remus to apparate away, seeing me first before I could spot him.

I flew down suddenly but silently, and landed by the back door, dropping the broom on the grass. I drew my wand from my pocket and held it up to the lock. "Alohomora," I whispered, and walked through the door.

I listened for a second, but heard no crack to signal apparation–not even the faintest pop. "Remus?" I called, but there was no answer. He wasn't here. At least not right now.

My heart was racing, and my senses were all on edge. I realised that my old instinctive side was in use for the first time since being in the war. I was operating on instinct, treating this like a mission. Which, I supposed, it was.

I searched the rooms of the house but found no trace of him. This didn't mean much–perhaps he had shrunken his carpetbag and hidden it where I couldn't see it.

I would come back soon, but first there was another nearby place I needed to check. I went out of the house and mounted my broom again, flying east to the sea, where I soon found the dark ruin Remus had shown me on our first day as husband and wife.

I slowed down as I made my approach, high up in the fleece-like clouds. But he wasn't there either. My body was trembling with exhaustion from all of the flying, my skin tight from the cold wind. I landed for a few minutes, for my own safety if nothing else, and soon I was uselessly kicking the side of the ruin.

I vented my anger until I was too exhausted, and collapsed on the rustling grass, staring out to sea through the tears in my eyes. Aside from the sound of the waves below, and the wind in the grass, it was very quiet.

"Bloody hell!" I gasped, when a ball of blue light appeared suddenly, quite close to my face. I scrambled back on instinct, but my heartbeat calmed as the orb loosened into a larger shape. It was a patronus. A doe.

I had never seen this one before, and had no idea who its owner was until it began to deliver its message. "Mrs. Lupin. Where are you? If you refuse to say, we must at least know that you are safe. Please reply."

It was Severus's, then. An echo of his deep voice emanated from the pulsing white-blue creature. I was surprised by the beauty of his patronus, this gentle slender doe. I'd never had cause to imagine what his patronus would be before, but if I had, I'd have never guessed this.

The doe lingered for a moment and then faded away.

I knew I wouldn't answer Severus, but his message did put me in mind of the skill. Patronuses could go to any person if you thought of them hard enough, even if you didn't know where they were. Severus had been able to send his to me, and he had no knowledge of this ruin, or of Remus's cottage.

I drew my wand and closed my eyes, drawing from my old well of warm memories. This time it was that Christmas at No. 12 Grimmauld Place, the gratitude I felt that everyone was alive and well; the sense of fullness and acceptance and warmth as Fred smiled at me from across the table.

"Expecto patronum," I whispered, and out of my wand flapped my raven, which flew cawing once around the ruin before hovering in front of me, waiting for my message.

"I don't know where you are," I said to it, envisioning Remus. "Please come back to me. I can't do this alone."

My voice was strong when I sent it, but as soon as the patronus vanished to deliver its message I burst into tears. I felt so hopeless that for a moment I was tempted to send a response to Severus, but I stopped myself. I needed to do this on my own.

I soaked up the sight of the sea, then mounted my broom and flew back to the house, which remained empty. I wanted to move on immediately, but common sense stopped me.

Today was the eleventh of January–I told myself I would stay in the house for two days, in case Remus showed up. It felt like a terrible waste of time, like I was barely on his trail and already losing it. But I knew there was a chance that he would come here, and would have hated myself if I'd missed him because of impatience.

It was a miserable two and half days. There wasn't any food in the cottage and I was determined not to go into the village in case Remus stopped by in my absence. I settled for transfiguring some mugs into loaves of bread. Enough to get by.

Every morning I was sick, unable to escape the reminder of why I was searching for Remus in the first place. I felt hopeless and unwanted, and angry at the baby for making all of this happen. But I forced those thoughts and emotions down. I wouldn't remain sensible if I let them run away with me.

It was on the afternoon of the thirteenth that I finally gave up, and decided to fly further south to Hunston. The sky was moody and rainy, but clear enough for me to safely see where I was going. Drenched with rain I landed some hours later, in the woods near the small parish church.

Rain pattered on the dead leaves on the ground, which had been preserved under the melted snow. I had always found some sad beauty in the miserable months that bridged winter and spring. But the gentle sounds deep in the dark cold woods held no beauty for me now. I remembered my first visit here, and the embrace that Remus and I had shared in the shadow of the church.

I hid my broomstick up in the tall branches of one of the trees, and went on foot down the path into the village.

Andromeda answered the front door. Her face was tightly guarded as she saw I was alone, and invited me inside. We were terribly quiet. Teddy was napping in the sitting room. I sat in a chair at the kitchen table while she put the kettle on and looked out the window, waiting for the water to boil.

"Milk?" she said, when the kettle was warbling.

"Yes, please."

"Sugar?"

"Yes."

She set a mug of tea before me and the familiar smell made my eyes tear up.

"He left, didn't he."

The steam of the tea, combined with the finality of her tone, made my tears finally slip forth.

"Are you pregnant?" she asked.

I nodded my head, though I didn't need to, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth as I trembled.

Andromeda shook her head. "People should learn from their mistakes," she said. She stayed with me for a minute longer, giving me a handkerchief, but never sat down. "Excuse me," she said at last, and stepped out into the back garden for a moment alone.

Teddy stirred in the other room with a soft gurgle, and I went to him. He was lying on a pillow in a pen near the fireplace. I leaned over and picked him up–he was already heavier than the last time I'd held him. Something about the smell of him, the weight and warmth, stirred something in me that had never stirred before. I knew it was the hormones, but I didn't care. It felt like he understood me. He gave a muffled low cry, and I swayed while I held him, wanting him to believe that I was okay.

"It's going to be alright," I said.

Andromeda told me to stay for as long as I needed, giving me the guest bedroom upstairs which I had stayed in last time. I knew it was no easy thing for her, having me around, the shadow of her dead daughter in my waiting, my hidden desperation, my morning sickness.

I was not in the house much. Over five days I covered all of the countryside around the village, taking long rambling walks searching for any trace of Remus. Andromeda let me know she was worried about how little rest I was getting, but didn't press the matter. We never discussed how I felt about the pregnancy itself–and it was a good thing we didn't. I still didn't really know, but was afraid of what might come out of me if given the chance to think out loud.

I got another patronus, this time from McGonagall. It was a light blue tabby cat. "Miss Weasley," it said. "Please do let us know that you are safe, or we will have no choice but to reach out to the Ministry. Your response can be simple."

I felt my stomach turn at the thought of all that would occur if Minerva reached out to the ministry. What would happen if they learned that Remus was gone? Had McGonagall already inferred that I was pregnant? If the Ministry learned about that… Well, I didn't know what they would do, but nothing good would come of it.

I shakily conjured my own patronus, and told it, simply, "I'm safe." Then I pictured McGonagall, and the raven went on its way.

My walks took me over fields, over hills, through marshes, through woods, along riverbanks, through other tiny rain-stricken towns.

On the third day I kicked myself for my stupidity. If Remus were around when I'd arrived, he had certainly left by now. I had forgotten completely that he could pick up on my scent, and I'd been spreading it all around Hunston. But I remained for two more days, walking until my legs gave out, hoping against hope that I would find something–anything–the slightest clue.

One evening, I was walking back to the village past the church, when I saw, from a thicket, two yellow eyes watching.

I stopped short, my heart thudding a low, forbidding rhythm. My ears picked up on a faint rustling, and I saw that the eyes belonged to a large grey wolf. They blinked once, and then the wolf turned and scampered deeper into the drizzling woods.

My heart was pounding now. There was no logic to it, but I began to run after the animal, some part of me certain that it was Remus. I crashed through the thorny bushes, wincing as I felt sharp scrapes on my arms and my face, but I didn't stop. I couldn't.

I kept my eyes on the wolf's grey tail until in my hurry I tripped over a small log, and fell to the ground with a gasp. I groaned as I sat up again. I'd caught myself with my elbows. My knees throbbed from the cold muddy ground as I pulled myself up, but I had lost sight of the wolf.

There was thunder in the distance, over the sea, and I headed back to the house. "It wasn't him," I told myself as I walked. "It wasn't him."

On the nineteenth my defeat finally caught up to me. I was lost, and needed home. Thanking Andromeda, and kissing Teddy on the forehead, I left for the Burrow.

"Long journey!" Arthur exclaimed, when I arrived at the front door, carrying my broomstick–or, rather, the broomstick I'd stolen.

It was late in the afternoon, and it took my mind a minute to catch up. He must have assumed I had flown directly from Hogwarts. I nodded my head, not wanting anyone to think anything different. "That's our Wilma," he said proudly. "Always quick on a broom."

Molly came in from the kitchen, holding a cloth, and smiled to see me, embracing me in her familiar warm arms. "Sorry I didn't owl," I said, my chin resting on her shoulder.

"Oh, that's alright, dear. We're just glad to have you home!"

I could have cried then and there, but the goodness of being in a familiar place numbed me to the events which had led me here.

"Go on upstairs and have a bath, dear," she said. "Oh, I'm just so glad you're here! Now I've got an excuse to make a birthday cake…" and she turned and went back into the kitchen.

Upstairs I stripped off my cold wet clothes and eased my stiff body into the bath. Through the water I looked at my knees, my thighs, my belly. They didn't feel like my own.

I dressed in my room, the rain pattering against the windowpane. My drawers were still full of Fred's clothes. I lowered my face to the fabric and inhaled, but his smell was almost entirely gone. I put on an old pair of my own trousers, warm thick socks, and the oversized blue jumper I had received from Molly at Christmas. Then I went downstairs and into the kitchen for a cup of tea.

"How has everything been up there at the school?" Arthur asked.

"And how's Remus?" Molly added.

I felt my heart stutter at the second question, but I started by telling them about Hogwarts–the inspectors from the Ministry, the ghosts, and McGonagall offering me a post–and that last bit of news made Molly forget she'd asked about Remus.

"Will you accept?" she asked. I could see in her eyes that she'd been waiting for this–a clear opportunity for me to do something useful with myself; mostly for the sake of my own happiness.

"I don't know yet," I said. "It could be an assistant position, or as a head teacher… I don't know."

Molly nodded, deciding not to press, clearly pleased that I was even thinking about it.

"That would be wonderful, Wilma," Arthur confirmed.

The Burrow felt very empty with only the three of us. Things had changed in other people's lives since I had been here last. "Ginny and Harry will be here for dinner in an hour or so," Molly told me. "They're in Godric's Hollow, helping with the clean-up. I suspect they'll be moving into a house there soon." Hermione had gotten a flat in Diagon Alley, and a position at the Ministry. Ron was up in London too, working with George and Angelina to get Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes back on its feet.

"Want to help with dinner dear?" Molly asked. I agreed eagerly, needing something to take my mind off of things–time, family.

I planned not to reveal anything about Remus, or about the pregnancy. But it all came out that same night, after dinner.

Seeing Ginny and Harry together was what brought it on. They had volunteered to take over the dishes together. I had wandered off after the meal, but came back and stood in the doorway for a minute, watching them and overhearing their quiet, intimate conversation.

It amazed me, how they had managed to continue such a healthy relationship, despite their love originating in the chaos of the war. A pang of jealousy hit me like a hot flash, and I quickly went into the sitting room to get myself under control.

I looked into the flames of the fireplace, and then felt the tears on my cheeks. All of the strength left my legs and I sat on the couch, holding my head, which was pounding with bottled-up emotion.

Molly came in and saw me, just as my tears were turning into silent sobs.

"I knew something was wrong," she said, her eyes nakedly suspicious for the first time that day.

"Nothing's wrong!" I retorted, surprised at myself but too upset to be ashamed.

Molly's eyes sparkled with pity and determination. Ginny came into the doorway, and Harry soon after her. Arthur popped his head in, too. I groaned. I didn't need an intervention, but I shouldn't have expected anything else, being back in the Burrow.

"Is it Remus?" Molly asked.

I nodded, holding my throat. I had just enough breath to speak, and decided it was senseless to hold onto the truth any longer. "He left," I choked out.

The sharp heat of anger emanated from Harry. "Excuse me," he said, his eyes dark. He walked out of the house, into the meadow, and towards the woods.

Ginny decided against following him and sat down beside me, putting her hand on my back, steady and considerate.

Molly sat down, her body buzzing with disappointment, but also perseverance. "I never dreamed," she said to herself. I slowly got through the initial storm of the tears. "There's always a place for you here," she continued, after a long pause. As long as you need it. You can stay for a year, if you need to. We will help you. Whatever you need."

I was intensely thankful that she didn't seem to suspect that I was pregnant. Andromeda knowing was already more than enough. I didn't want the Ministry to find out, and to tell my family would have made it more difficult to keep it a secret as long as I could. I sobbed even more at the thought. The very idea of having a child made me panic. I didn't even think I wanted it–especially not if Remus wasn't going to be around to help me. I felt lost, and in deep trouble.

"It'll be alright, Wilma," Ginny said, once Molly had left the room to make more tea. "He came back to Tonks, and he'll come back to you."

"Thank you," I said, holding my adoptive younger sister close. I was grateful for her confidence. But I wasn't so sure.

Each night I had dreams of the wolf I'd seen in the woods by the church. I didn't know if Remus was an animagus as well as a werewolf. I doubted that he would choose to transform into a wolf, given the hatred he'd developed for his condition. But I wouldn't have been surprised if he had done it to remain in hiding.

I continued to be ill each morning, but by putting a silencing charm on the loo before I went in, I was able to keep it from Molly, who otherwise would have realised in an instant.

I began to feel a bit mad. Every day I walked around the countryside I knew like the back of my hand, walking all the way down to the sea once, in my absentmindedness. I knew he would not be anywhere around the Burrow, but by now the walking was a habit–a necessary escape from the fact that, if he didn't want to be found, I would not find him.

My twentieth birthday crept up, and soon it was one night away. Molly had decided to invite everyone in the family. For the first time, I thought she might be right that having a larger group of people would make me feel better. I had to admit that I was looking forward to the cake. It helped that she promised not to mention Remus.

I went to sleep that night feeling uneasy. If it were up to my mind alone I would never have fallen asleep, but my body was too exhausted to remain awake.

It was midnight when I trembled into wakefulness, feeling as though I'd just suffered a long fall. I couldn't remember my dream, but whatever it was, it had reminded me. I sat up, my body suddenly full of adrenaline as I realised the one feasible hiding place I had not yet checked.

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It was the most obvious place; a way for him to hide in plain sight, so to speak. If that had been his thought process, he'd been right. It hadn't even crossed my mind until now. There was no time to imagine what I would say or do if I did find Remus there. All I knew was that I had to go.

I was guilty for leaving just before the day Molly had been planning, but I would die of anticipation if I had to wait even one more hour. I snuck downstairs and, after leaving an explanatory and apologetic note for Molly on the table, went quietly outside.

It was chilly and dark, the clouds racing across the sky. I mounted my broom and kicked off, catching the swift wind, heading for London.