NOTE

Content warning: sex, and a discussion of childhood trauma.

17. Christmas

Everybody was there at the Burrow. Harry and Hermione were there, as well as Percy, who was as tight-lipped about his Ministry job as ever, and Bill and Fleur, who had come from the very cold shell cottage. George had decided to visit Angelina's parents for Christmas, and his absence was deeply felt. Andromeda and Teddy arrived halfway through the day before Christmas Eve, and rarely was Remus seen without Teddy in his arms for the rest of the holiday.

It was a guilty pleasure to have clothes that weren't the same ones I'd been wearing for over a month. I hadn't been wearing my own clothes much after the battle–my drawers were full of Fred's shirts and jumpers–but I decided not to wear these, not wanting to offend Remus. There was a pretty red blouse which I'd worn every Christmas since Molly gave it to me four years ago. I put it on as soon as we reached the Burrow, and spotted Remus gazing at me rather sensually across the room.

There was plenty to eat, and hot tea was always ready. I helped in the kitchen while Remus kept the fire going and spent time with Teddy. When we were together, we often ended up sat in the corner, as we were both quite awkward in larger social situations.

We weren't called upon to speak until Bill brought up the subject of the beings that evening. He seemed concerned about them, and so Remus and I took it upon ourselves to explain the experience we'd had. I also told the room about seeing one of them again, when Snape and I had been walking from Hogsmeade to the castle, and how it hadn't seemed quite so harmless that time. Harry looked suddenly uncomfortable, and I wondered if he somehow knew who Snape had seen.

The atmosphere in the room was generally anxious, and Ginny was gracious enough to change the subject. I stayed a minute longer before escaping into the kitchen. It was too stressful, remembering those moments outside Remus's cottage and in the woods near Hogwarts. I wanted to push the rest of the world away, to believe in nothing but the Burrow. But the conversation had brought up memories of Fred, and I needed a minute to recover.

I opened a window, just to feel the cold, just to feel invigorated again. I leaned out into the night until my skin burned.

Remus found me there a minute later. "It's a bad habit, leaning out of open windows in midwinter," he said.

"I just like the air."

"Well, I'd like it if you didn't catch cold."

I closed the window and leaned against the wall. He was watching me, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "I couldn't…" I said.

"I understand."

I went to him and he touched my hand. "Merlin, you're freezing," he said, and held my hands tightly in both of his until they were a bit warmer.

A burst of laughter came from the other room. He smiled sadly and lowered his head to kiss my knuckles. The warmth of his lips travelled, tingling, through my arms to my belly. I swallowed softly, biting my lip. Was he doing that on purpose?

"I think I should leave the room," I whispered, "before I do something irresponsible."

Remus looked up at me, something hidden in his eyes. "And what might that be?"

But my confidence ended there and, escaping my nervousness, I slipped out of his hands and rejoined the others.

Dinner was warm and simple, so we wouldn't be too full for tomorrow night's feast. "Big day tomorrow," Molly said. We would be going by floo to Diagon Alley for some Christmas Eve shopping. "No excuses," she added, looking pointedly at me. I'd never liked shopping, but there was no harm in humouring her.

With the dishes dried and the candles put out, everyone began to climb the stairs for bed. Remus bid Teddy goodnight with many kisses. "I'll stay down here," he said to me, when Andromeda had taken Teddy out of the sitting room.

"Nonsense," I told him. "You'll sleep with me."

It was a small and bare room, but it was home, and had been for many years now. There was only a single bed, underneath the window, but we managed. We turned our backs while we changed into our pyjamas. I slipped into bed first, my body cool and tired. I watched the sky outside the window, where the moon was slowly swelling, and then turned my head gently to watch Remus. He'd just finished buttoning his shirt, and I thought he looked quite attractive in his pinstripe pyjamas.

He glanced over at me out of the pale shadows. "What are you looking at?"

I hid my chin beneath the covers. "I like those."

He smiled a small smile.

I waited, wondering if there would be a continuation of what had started subtly in the kitchen before dinner. He walked across the room. Despite all of the pain, he was quite graceful in his body, and a wave of desire throbbed through my belly. He slipped in beside me and held me against his chest, tight and warm.

"Are you happy being here?" he murmured.

I thought of the warmth of the faces downstairs, the comfort of being in a familiar place. Though many griefs still lived within these walls, the Burrow was a refuge from the chaos of the past years.

"Yeah," I said. "Are you?"

"Yeah."

I listened to his breath, and to the low wind outside. My breath hitched and I flinched when he stroked my hair. "Sorry," he said. "Wasn't thinking."

But I caught his hand and kissed his knuckles, as he had done to me downstairs. I felt my lips trembling as I took the tip of his little finger into my mouth. Remus's body was still, but I could feel his heartbeat against my back. "What's this, then?" he said, his voice ever so soft.

I turned around in the darkness, guided by the faint light of his eyes, and kissed him. His hand wandered over the curves of my body under the blankets. The most effortless of his touches made my heart race.

I pressed myself against him, nudging his knee with mine. I gasped as quietly as I could when his mouth opened, and he slowly traced my lips with his tongue, holding me closer. It had only been a few seconds, and already I was a trembling tangle of nerves.

He drew away, and I felt his own body shaking softly. He stroked my calf with the arch of his foot. "Tell me what you want," he murmured.

"Touch me there," I breathed.

He shifted in the darkness, and I opened my legs for him, helpless as his fingers slid between my folds. I had to press my hand to my mouth to keep from moaning. His free hand caressed my face, my lips. His eyes were open and full, and I pulled him on top of me.

With a thrilling ache his fingers slipped deeper, and he moved the heel of his hand against me in slow circles. I was out of practice at being so full of want. It was as though my heartbeat had slid out of me and was throbbing in the air around us. Remus bent down and took my open mouth. My knee hitched up against his side, and I felt him swelling against my belly.

My need was climbing, and I pulled my shirt over my head, letting it fall to the floor. His warm breath ghosted over my breasts just before he kissed them, and took one nipple and then the other between his teeth. It was such a challenge to keep quiet. There was nothing but our twisting limbs and our panting breath in the darkness.

"Fucking Christ, Remus…" I quietly moaned, as his fingers began to slide more easily inside of me. "I need you…"

His face was buried in the softness of my arm. "Yes?" he asked.

"Let me be on top," I murmured.

He turned over and pulled me against him. My body desperately rubbed against his, and finally, finally, I rolled over him, taking him more deeply than I ever had. A light, weak moan escaped my lips, like a bird. I felt flighty, in a hurry.

"Shh," Remus said. "Slow."

His breath was deep and soft. The look in his eyes was disabling. His hands guided my hips, and pleasure crashed up and down my spine as he held me back from rushing.

"You feel so good," I whimpered.

His long fingers slid around the back of my neck, and nestled in my hair. A powerful look surfaced in his eyes, which would have frightened me if I'd trusted him any less. "You have no idea how good you feel."

We'd had sex, breathtaking sex, last month in London. But this felt like making love.

I felt myself surging, full of a dependent heat. Relenting at last, Remus let me speed up, and I suddenly knew that this time I would finish. My mind lit up with nervousness at the inevitability. My body was out of my control. Everything was shaking. There was only Remus. Only Remus.

"Hold me," I pleaded, in an alarmed whisper. He did, his arms pulling me against him until there was no difference. And then I came hard around him, each sigh a silent scream. In my panicked ecstasy my teeth found his ear and bit down. I felt him grimace against my neck, and a second later he finished, his breath rumbling in his chest as his hips thrust upward and his fingers dug into my back.

Shaking, I collapsed over him, my body limp, my breath wheezing. "Fucking hell. Thank you… thank you…" I heard myself whisper, my lips moving mindlessly. My body was still twitching violently, heaving with pleasure, and as I was washed with waves of relief, I began to cry.

Remus was still breathing hard. I could feel his body through my own. The intensity of it was overwhelming, and I ached as he slid out of me and helped me onto my side. I was shaking, and all I could do was cling to him. I would fall into oblivion if I let go. I fell to trembling again, softly gasping for air. He breathed with me, and brushed the tears from my face with his thumbs.

Slowly my body cooled, and I could breathe again. I was overwhelmed with emotion; gratitude, embarrassment…

"Perhaps I should wear these pyjamas more often," Remus said, after a minute. I laughed in spite of myself, and he hushed me tenderly, his low laughter rippling through my belly.

I slept better that night than I had done in a year.

Molly gave me a knowing glance as she handed me my cup of tea the next morning. I wondered if she disapproved–it had been difficult enough for her to have her son and her adoptive daughter in love with each other in the same house. Had it been too far, in her eyes, my being physical with Remus in her home?

But I knew I had misinterpreted her look when she smiled slightly. It was a complex look, woman to woman. And I knew she understood.

I felt how drawn my body was to Remus's. I felt his absence more deeply, even when he was only across the room. I heard his voice more clearly, and when we were close I felt his breath as though it were my own. I couldn't believe that the woman in bed last night had been me–but it had. I felt ownership of my body in a way I never had before, and at the same time desperately out of control. There was something chemical between us now. So much of me was in his hands.

I would find myself looking at him, and then quickly glance away, heart pounding. Emotions like these were symptoms of a singular condition of the heart–but I wasn't willing to admit I had it.

Diagon Alley was cheerful under a light snowfall. Much of the reconstruction was complete, and there was a decent bustle of witches and wizards passing up and down, popping into the shops. I split off with Hermione and Ginny, who were discussing gifts for Ron and Harry.

I hadn't the slightest idea of what Remus liked. I supposed that he, like me, didn't care much for gifts or material possessions. Listening to Hermione and Ginny, it seemed that gifts were very important as a way of expressing their love. Perhaps I should get him something; something simple, and not at all expensive.

Hermione and Ginny went into a shop together and I slipped away on my own. I wandered down towards the end of the alley, needing a moment to myself. I paused near Ollivanders, suddenly filled by the memory of shopping for my first year at Hogwarts, of how Fred had led me around from shop to shop. It was a bittersweet memory.

Bittersweet…

I laughed to myself there under the snow. I'd thought of the perfect gift.

I walked out of the sweet shop hiding a bar of chocolate in the pocket of my jumper. It was perfect, because it was barely a gift at all–just something to have a bit of a laugh over together.

I found everyone else in a toy shop. Andromeda had been pulled into conversation with a witch I didn't recognise, and Teddy was toddling about unattended. I didn't see Remus anywhere, so I gave myself the task of guarding the child, following him around while he marvelled at the shelves of toys. He seemed to particularly fancy a magical pinwheel that spun and sang whenever one picked it up, and I bought it for him with the little money I had left.

We'd been waiting for Andromeda for a few minutes when Teddy looked up at me, reaching up with both hands. I took this as a signal that he wanted to be picked up, and so I did, balancing him on my hip. The pinwheel whirred quietly near my ear.

I couldn't blame Remus for being inseparable from the boy. Merely holding him made me feel warm and accepted. It was an unmatched sensation, being unconditionally trusted and loved.

Teddy made a determined sound, and pointed at the window, past which the lovely flakes of snow were falling. "Want to go outside?" I said, and took him through the front door.

Remus was just coming up the street, his hands in his pockets. I was suddenly nervous that he would see my holding Teddy as a breach of some boundary, but when he saw us he smiled.

"Teddy wanted to watch the snow," I said.

"Did he?"

Remus tapped Teddy on the nose, and kissed my forehead. I looked up at him in surprise. There were people around, and I hadn't expected him to be so open in public.

I sensed a few stares coming from a group of older wizards across the street, but I kept my head high. There was no longer any excuse for people to judge Remus. He was a war hero, and I was proud to be holding his son in my arms.

The table at the Burrow was piled with food. Pies, turkey, roast potatoes, cranberry sauce, brussels sprouts and parsnips… a feast for the eyes as well as the stomach. We all ate our fill and more, and then sat round the sitting room in the warmth and light of the fireplace. Fleur stood up a bit awkwardly to make an announcement–and I knew before she spoke what the news was, by the way Bill looked up at her adoringly. She was pregnant.

A burst of happiness followed the news. Molly immediately began talking of baby clothes. Hermione hid the tightness in her face behind a smile, and looking at her I realised that my own insides had gone cold at the mention of pregnancy. Remus was sat beside me, and I felt him grow tense as well.

At the first appropriate moment, he slipped out of the room. I thought I should leave him be–the full moon was just a week away now, and I didn't want to fall victim to his temper. But eventually I stood up and followed him.

He was stood in the snow just outside the back door. "You alright?" I said, once I knew he was aware of my presence.

He shook his head. "Aren't you upset about all this? You're so young. You shouldn't have to be a mother."

I hadn't even given it proper thought until this moment, but of course I was upset by the requirements of the law. Having a child was an enormous responsibility, and the mere thought of being pregnant was frightening to me. But I didn't want to air my anxieties to him. What would be the point in that?

"That's not what this is really about, is it? Remus… are you worried that…"

"What, that I got lucky with Teddy?" He turned around, his face full of anguish, thinly veiled by exasperation. "That if there's another, he'll be like me?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, I'm worried about it."

"But Teddy…"

"I can't be sure. Not many people like me have had children."

Suddenly I remembered what Andromeda had told me about Tonks, on my first visit to Hunston. How Remus had left her when he found out she was pregnant. I couldn't deny the fear that rippled through me. Would he do that again?

I continued, desperate for some form of reassurance. "It wouldn't be the end of the world, Remus."

"What do you know about it?"

I hated it when he raised his voice, but I wouldn't let myself be intimidated enough to back down. "We're in this whether we like it or not," I said. "I'm just trying to help–"

He put up his hand, and I held my tongue. "Wilma. Let me be. On this one matter, just… let me be."

I looked at him for a long moment. Finally, deciding it was best not to argue any further, I slipped away inside.

Night came on. Remus had a glass of mulled wine, and then another. I looked at him nervously until he noticed. Please no more, I asked him with my eyes. He nodded.

We went to sleep together in silence. He held me against his chest as he had done the night before, but I felt the resistance in his arms and knew that it would be a while until we had sex again.

I woke up in the middle of the night and remembered the chocolate. Sneaking out of bed, I found it in the pocket of the jumper I'd worn. Remus hadn't stirred, and I snuck it into one of his socks for him to find in the morning. I thought that after our argument it might seem inappropriate, but to hell with it. There was a chance it would cheer him up.

We both woke to the sound of Arthur and Molly loudly singing in the kitchen. Remus grumbled and rolled out of bed. I assumed the moon was getting to him. It would be difficult to put on a cheerful face downstairs. I rolled over, rubbing my eyes, and watched him cross the chilly room, ruffling his hair and changing into a warm jumper and grey trousers. He found the chocolate a few seconds later, and sat there with one sock on. He looked over at me and gave me a look, with his eyebrows raised and a soft smile. "Very amusing," he said.

"Happy Christmas."

Everything was merry and glowing downstairs. In line with the holiday tradition, Molly had knitted me another jumper. This one was dark blue, and actually fit quite well–a bit on the big side, which I liked. Fleur was seated across the table from me at breakfast, and I couldn't help noticing that she looked a bit nauseous. Bill stroked her back when he saw, and she nodded to him.

We were cleaning up the meal when an owl tapped at the window. The letter was addressed to me. I untied it from the owl's leg and read it under the lamp.

Mrs. Lupin,

Please ask your husband whether he will come to Hogwarts this week, and write me the answer. I must know whether he will be taking the potion, so I do not waste precious ingredients.

Thank you.

"Something wrong?" Remus said. I looked up to see him watching me, and realised that my eyebrows had furrowed whilst reading the letter. Snape's tone was hard and I didn't care for it. He hadn't even bothered to sign the note. But it was to be expected after our last interaction.

"Snape wants to know if you're going back up, for the week before."

He looked down, but nodded his head. "Suppose I should."

I found a quill but didn't bother with fresh parchment. If Snape wanted to be brief and rude… well, two could play. On the back of his note I wrote, simply,

Yes.

The day was full and tiring. We went snowshoeing to the Lovegood's house, where there was a hot fire and good conversation. Luna and Neville were down from Hogwarts for a few days, but would also be returning soon. After the visit I went alone to Fred's grave. He hadn't spoken to me in a long time, and part of me wanted to see if he would. But there was only the silence of his stone in the snow.

I began feeling a bit under the weather that evening, from being out in the cold and the snow. I had a light cough, and climbed the stairs early to bed with a mug of tea.

Remus came up a while later, after putting Teddy to sleep. We would have to leave early the next morning, before the boy woke up. I'd curled up on the bed beside the window, hugging myself, and turned when he entered.

"Feeling alright?" he said. He looked a bit nervous about something.

I breathed in too quickly and coughed. "Alright," I managed. "Are you?"

He lingered in the doorway a moment longer, and then closed the door. His shoulders seemed more narrow than usual, and his eyes were oddly restless. "May I give you something?" he said.

I was suddenly overcome by a wave of worry. I prayed he hadn't spent energy or money on some large gesture when all I'd done was to buy him a simple bar of chocolate. "Sure," I told him.

"You don't look sure," he said. I saw in his eyes that, whatever it was, he was very sensitive about it. I felt for the first time–except for the days directly after the full moons–that he was depending deeply on me.

I moved to sit on the edge of the bed, watching him. "I am," I said.

He went to his carpet bag and took a tiny velvet pouch out of the pocket of his robes. He held it for a minute and seemed unable to open it. Reaching out with the length of his arm, he handed it to me. I took it in my hand. It was soft, but there was a small weight to it. I looked up at him, feeling my heart thudding in my chest, and then pulled at the drawstrings. Nestled in the velvet darkness were two rings.

For a long while I was speechless. I could only look between the bag and his watchful eyes, holding back tears. "Remus, did you buy these?"

"No. They belonged to my parents."

I took a shaky breath and began to cough again.

"I thought…" he said, sounding wary. "We don't have to wear them. But if you like, we can."

"Remus…" I whispered, my voice hoarse.

I turned the pouch over and the rings fell into my palm. They were gold and beautiful. The woman's looked like a vine, with slender leaves weaving around it.

"Your parents'?" I murmured.

He knelt on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed. I could only see the side of his face, but it was full of an old sadness.

"They both died when I was very young," he said. "These and a few papers were all I had from them. I've been keeping them locked away forever. Thought it was time they saw the light again."

"I'm sorry." His story was painfully familiar, painfully similar to my own. "How old were you?"

"Seven."

"Where'd you go? Before you went to Hogwarts?"

He shrugged his shoulders heavily. "Place in London."

From the way he said it I knew he meant he'd been in a care home.

"I was in a home, too," I said, after a minute. "Before Dumbledore found me and brought me here. My parents were both muggles, gave me up before I was one."

We sat in silence a while. There was no need to explain further. We both knew. He turned to me, and in his eyes I saw a depth of understanding and respect that I'd not yet seen. We had a painful childhood in common. His gaze shifted down to the rings, which still sat in my hand.

"Do you want to put them on?" he asked.

I couldn't answer lightly. I reached out and squeezed his hand.

"Yes. I want to."

His eyes were deep, open, incredibly vulnerable. I took his father's ring and slowly slid it over his finger.

My heartbeat quickened as he took his mother's ring from my palm. He carefully caressed the left finger of my left hand, his face focused as he guided the ring over my knuckle.

"There," he said.

I leaned forward and embraced him.