Three Months Later

"Stupefy!"

A flash of red light came at Remus. He ducked, shouting, "Petrificus totalus!"

Sirius blocked the spell and returned it with a "Flipendo!"

"Is that all you got?" Sirius goaded.

Remus grunted and flourished his wand. Ropes came out of it, but Sirius transfigured them into flowers, grinning wildly at his frustration.

"Levicor—"

"Protego!"

"Titillen—"

"Stupefy!"

This time, Remus didn't have the strength to avoid the Stunning Spell. He crumpled onto the ground, panting and wheezing, struggling to catch his breath.

"You're getting better," Sirius said, collapsing next to him and wiping the sweat off his brow. "You'll be almost as good as me."

Remus punched Sirius's shoulder with as much energy as he could muster, but it wasn't enough to make a difference. Sirius rolled his eyes and fell back against the cold ground.

"A few months ago, you could hardly get past a single Stupefy." Sirius checked his watch and nodded. "We've been at this for an hour and a half, the longest session yet."

"Not—good—enough," Remus rasped. He coughed, having inhaled a mouthful of dry, winter air.

"It's not as if you're going into battle tomorrow."

"What—if—we—do?"

"It won't happen yet." Sirius stretched his arms over his head and turned his neck back and forth, cracking the joints loudly. "Voldemort won't strike until the time is right."

Remus raised a brow and cleared his throat. "You know what his plan is?"

Sirius's breath formed little clouds of vapor. His forehead creased and he sat up, bringing one of his knees to his chest.

"Dumbledore's got a hunch," he said. "I saw him last week."

"Was it for another one of those mysterious meetings with Harry?"

Sirius nodded. "It's a good thing, too, as we can talk without the risk of owls being tampered with."

Remus sat up as well, having finally steadied his breathing, and yawned. "Care to share, or will you leave me to guess?"

"Harry's got it in his head that Draco Malfoy's a Death Eater."

"What?" Remus shook his head in disbelief. "How? He's 16!"

"Same age as my brother was when he joined up," Sirius said bitterly. "If Draco is indeed a Death Eater, it'll be against his mother's will."

"Voldemort isn't known for mercy," Remus mused aloud. "If he is, what's Draco doing for him?"

Sirius shrugged. "Whatever it is, Draco will fail. It's to humiliate Lucius after the disaster at the Department of Mysteries."

Remus racked his brain, trying to think of a mission that Voldemort might give a teenager. "Does Severus know?"

"Dumbledore has hinted that he does."

"Has this got anything to do with your secret missions?"

"I couldn't tell you, even if I wanted to," Sirius replied, casting a Warming Charm over the two of them. "I may have to, truthfully. I could use Tonks's help."

"What do you need her for?" asked Remus, narrowing his eyes. "Neither of us are going on any missions."

"I'm aware of that, Moony. I need her to morph into someone else—and it wouldn't be until after the baby is born at the earliest."

"No, absolutely—"

"You're not in control of her every action." Sirius's grey eyes glinted angrily. "You're her husband, not her keeper."

Remus pressed his lips together. "Who does she need to look like?"

"I can't say."

"Why do you need her?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level. "Why not bother someone else with Polyjuice Potion?"

Sirius tsked under his breath. "Our targets are well hidden."

Straightening his legs out in front of him, Remus thought of the possibilities. Voldemort would be near-impossible to achieve, as his appearance was itself a mystery. The other, well-hidden targets could be some of his followers.

"You don't mean the Lestrange brothers, do you?" Remus asked, incredulous. "Are you mad?!"

Running his hand back from his hair to his neck, Sirius breathed out slowly from his nose. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but Dumbledore thinks Voldemort's hiding something in their Gringotts vault."

"Then have him get it."

"You don't think he's tried? We'll have to break in as one of them."

"It's not going to work."

"Do you have a better suggestion?" Sirius snapped.

Remus wrung his hands, as if a solution could come by sheer force of will. "I take it you can't tell me what it is or why you need it?"

"Not a chance, Lupin."

"Will you tell Dora?"

"Only if we need her help finding it, once we're in the vault. Hufflepuffs are good finders." Sirius laughed drily, while Remus scowled. It was perilous enough for Tonks to morph into a Lestrange, let alone break into one of the safest places on earth.

"Are you sure you need her?"

"I'm sure I need to get into the Lestrange vault. As sure as I was that I didn't betray the Potters."

"If she goes, I go," Remus said suddenly.

"To do what?" Sirius's face scrunched up, looking at Remus as if he'd grown another head.

"I don't know! Be a lookout? Provide another escape route? I won't be able to stay home and wait for her to come back."

"Risk your life as well as hers?" Sirius demanded.

"Padfoot, how dangerous is this mission?"

"Dangerous enough."

"You want to gamble with my wife's life?" Remus questioned, aghast at Sirius's nerve. "To risk my daughter losing her mother?"

"We all agreed to risk our lives to end this war. James and Lily gave their lives up for Harry. I'd do the same," Sirius replied calmly. "Wouldn't you, for your child? If this was the only way to give your daughter a chance to grow up in a world without Voldemort, wouldn't you take it?"

Remus looked back at Sirius's house. Dora was in there with her mother and some of the witches from the Order, holding a small baby shower. They couldn't hold a proper shower, according to his mother-in-law, as they were in hiding, but Andromeda had arranged for Dora's closest friends and the extended Tonks family to be able to send well-wishes and gifts ahead of the holidays.

He imagined they weren't in hiding and Ted was still alive. They'd be at the Tonks home, surrounded by friends and family. Later, when the baby was born, she'd be passed around from one friend to another, from one loving family member to the next. He imagined his daughter's first birthday with a tiny, select group of people at Grimmauld Place, not unlike Harry's first birthday, celebrated with a handful of friends in Godric's Hollow. If James had had his way, he'd have got a whole Quidditch pitch for Harry's first.

But James and Lily were gone. Voldemort had disappeared and returned. Like the First War, it would only be a matter of time before Voldemort went after them.

If Remus was faced with the same decision—to sacrifice his life for his wife and daughter—he hoped he'd be brave enough to do it. If it meant they survived and his daughter got to grow up loved and happy, even without him to be her father . . . James had given his life for that possibility. Tonks wouldn't hesitate to do the same, even if it would nearly kill Remus to lose her.

"I need Dumbledore to tell me this is the only way," Remus said, distressed at the thought of losing his wife, "and to promise me he won't breathe a word of it until the baby is born. I don't want Tonks to worry . . . and I want her to have healed enough that she can duel as well as she can. I want to be there to help. If anyone has to die, I want it to be me."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Sirius agreed, holding his hand out for Remus to shake. "It stays between us until the time is right."

Remus shook his hand and looked out onto the setting sun. He prayed that they could avoid the dangerous mission, and all live long enough to see the end of the war.

Remus chattered his teeth and wrapped a heavy, woolen blanket around his shoulders. To his left, Tonks held her sides, her forehead creasing tightly, and hissed in pain.

"Fucking—false—labor," she grunted, huffing unhappily over the newest development in her pregnancy.

"Is there anything I can do?" asked Remus, feeling helpless.

"There isn't anything any of us can do," replied Andromeda, casting a Warming Charm on Remus's blanket, followed by shoving a hot cup of tea into his freezing hands. "These contractions began for me around the same time. She's only six weeks away from her due date. They'll come and go until the true labor is here."

Tonks lifted her head, her eyes watery and tired. "Was it this bad for you?"

"Only at night." Andromeda pushed back Tonks's purple hair and smiled softly. "I forgot about all the pain when you were born. You'll see, when your baby arrives."

Tonks muttered a few choice words under her breath. Remus winced, wishing he could do more, but even if the full moon wasn't approaching that night, there was little he could do for his wife. He felt a chill in his bones, worse now that it was the coldest time of the year, and despite his place next to the fire, a warm blanket around him, and steaming tea in his hands, he couldn't shake off the chill.

"Mum, what if this is real labor?" Tonks groaned and scrunched her eyes, whimpering. Beads of sweat ran down her temples, and Andromeda cast a Cooling Charm on her.

"It's too early, isn't it?" Remus said uneasily, flicking his gaze to Andromeda. His stomach turned violently; if the baby was born six weeks ahead of time and on the full moon, he feared she wouldn't survive.

"If it was real labor, you'd be in a great deal more pain, darling." Andromeda's reassurance calmed Remus. She continued, "Your waters haven't broken. If they had, I'd be worried."

Tonks huffed miserably and returned to pouting.

The fire behind them roared and turned emerald green. Remus pushed his chair back so Sirius could enter the kitchen.

"Bloody hot in here," he grumbled by way of greeting, removing his cloak. "Trying to roast yourselves?"

"Remus is cold and I'm hot. As soon as you go down to the cellar I'm extinguishing that fire."

"Or you could go upstairs and I'll handle the charms."

Tonks frowned and moaned as another false contraction overtook her. Remus's panic was increasing; the contractions seemed too close together to be false.

"What's wrong with her?" Sirius asked Andromeda.

"False labor pains," Andromeda replied curtly. "Nothing any of you need to worry about." Her gaze lingered on Tonks. "Nymphadora, why don't we get you upstairs? You'll be more comfortable. Sirius can take it from here."

Remus saw Tonks's argument forming on her lips. "Dora, it's all right," he assured her. "You need rest. You'll feel better by morning."

With a defeated sigh, Tonks got off her chair and kissed him.

"I'll be down there after moonset. I love you, Remus."

"I love you, too," he murmured, feeling the heat rise to his neck and cheeks when she kissed him one more time and nipped at his lower lip.

Sirius cleared his throat, and Tonks reluctantly parted from Remus. She went up with her mother, and Sirius turned back to begin charming the cellar door.

"She'll be fine, Moony," he said, anticipating Remus's concern. "While you two were canoodling, Andy told me her pregnancy was the same. There's no reason to expect baby Lupin before late February at the earliest." He helped Remus up and began guiding him to the cellar stairs.

Remus, still able to hear Tonks's yelps of pain, was not convinced, but as moonrise approached, he had no choice but to give into his body's animalistic demands.

The moments after moonset were as hazy as always. Remus's vision was blurry and his stomach convulsed. His teeth chattered; he needed clothes, blankets, and a blazing fireplace. He craned his neck, hoping to hear the shuffling of his wife. Only silence reached his ears.

"Dora?" croaked Remus. "Sirius?"

The cellar was empty and eerily hushed. He had come to expect Tonks's soothing presence after moonset, occasionally with Sirius's help, but no one was around. He couldn't hear the kettle in the kitchen or the crackling of logs in the hearth. There wasn't even a sliver of light under the door that led up to the kitchen, or Tonks's tell-tale clunking.

Growing increasingly perplexed and worried, Remus stretched and heaved himself off the dirt floor. The Wolfsbane Potion had prevented any serious injuries; he felt a few bruises from the snapping of bones from one shape to another, and was mildly nauseous, but he got to his feet and found his clothes. He'd just put on his pants and vest when a beam of light shone down from the kitchen, temporarily blinding him.

"Moony!" Sirius called. "You all right?"

"Where's Dora?"

"Upstairs." Sirius came down as Remus's eyes adjusted to the lights.

"Is she okay?"

"Much better now that the baby is born," replied Sirius, grinning.

"What?" Remus dropped his trousers and shirt to the floor, feeling faint. "The baby? She's here? It's too early! Is she—she's not like me?"

"Fully human, six weeks early, and she'll be all right. Andy and Molly both said so." Remus felt woozy and Sirius caught him by the shoulders. "I'll help you get dressed, get a potion or two in you, and then you can—"

"No—" Remus knew he was being foolish, as he wasn't even fully dressed, but he had to see his family.

"It's what Tonks wants you to do," Sirius argued. "She doesn't want you fainting when you hold your baby for the first time."

Remus gave in when the room appeared to be spinning. He leaned on Sirius to finish dressing himself, and then took the stairs one at a time, his heart thumping madly, knowing his wife and daughter were upstairs, waiting for him.

Sirius had Remus sit down and brought out buttered toast and several bottles of potions. Sirius wouldn't let Remus go until he'd eaten the short stack of toast and swallowed every drop of his post-transformation potions. It felt like torture, especially when a sharp cry interrupted them halfway through.

"She's stronger than she looks," Sirius said, pushing another bottle at Remus. "One more and you can go."

Remus chugged the last potion and stood up almost too quickly. His vision was slightly unclear and his muscles weaker than he liked, but with Sirius at his side, he was able to get to the top of the third floor, where he could hear the indistinct sounds of conversation.

With one more step, Remus reached the door and peeked through the opening. Tonks was on their bed, with a bundle in her arms, looking exhausted but radiant. Her mother bustled around the room, cleaning up from the birth. Remus softly rapped his knuckles against the doorframe to announce his presence, thrilled when Tonks looked up at him with a giant smile.

"Your dad's here, baby!"

Remus practically fell over in his rush to see his family.

"Easy," said Sirius, helping Remus stay upright. "Andy, could you find his sleeping things to get him into bed?"

But Remus didn't care about pyjamas or beds. He reached his wife's side, holding onto one of the posters on their bed for support, and peered down at the impossibly tiny face of his newborn daughter.

"Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or—"

"They definitely aren't," Tonks said, beaming up at him. "Her hair started changing colors a half hour ago!"

Before Remus was able to collapse with joy, Sirius's arms were catching him. Begrudgingly, Remus accepted his help and changed into pyjamas so he could sit next to Tonks in bed and begin resting.

"I'll help you," said Andromeda, when Tonks tried to move the baby into Remus's arms. She gently took the baby and positioned Remus's arm so he could support the baby's little head and hold her securely.

His fist came up to his mouth when he finally had his daughter in the crook of his arm. Tears prickled at his eyes and his throat grew scratchy. The baby had coppery-brown hair, but it looked like it was turning golden. Her bleary eyes opened and closed and her precious, button nose sniffed up at him.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Tonks wiped away a tear that fell down Remus's cheek. "She looks like you."

"No," Remus gasped. "She's just like you. She's perfect."

They stayed quiet for a few moments. Remus couldn't tear his eyes away from his daughter's face, or her slowly changing hair color. He didn't know how he could love someone he just met with all the ferocity and intensity of his heart and soul.

"Is Hope still okay, for her name?" Tonks asked softly, stroking the baby's cheek with her finger. "She looks like hope."

Remus nodded, too overwhelmed by his emotions to give more of a response.

Andromeda came over to wipe the sweat off Tonks's forehead. "And her middle name?"

"Josephine," replied Tonks. "After Granny Tonks."

"A little after your father as well," Andromeda said, looking wistfully down at Hope. "His middle name was Joseph."

Remus lifted Hope enough that he could bend down and kiss her forehead, promising silently to himself that no matter what came, he would do anything—lay down his life, if it came to it—if it meant she'd have a happy, wonderful life. He knew now what James had felt when Harry was born; there would be no deliberation if it was Remus's life or Hope's. Remus would die a thousand painful deaths, without a second thought, for his daughter.

But, as Hope yawned, her hair going to a vibrant shade of purple, Remus knew that doing anything for her also meant he'd never give up on living, or trying to be the father she deserved.