NOTE

There will be feels. Consider yourself warned.

40. Stone

I was walking along the bleak northern coast at dusk. The wind was hard and freezing, and small grains of sand cut my eyes. Every step was a challenge.

The sea was bitter and black. I turned my face to it, hearing a splashing sound under the roaring of the wind. A hand was struggling above the waves, far out past the furthest outcrops of stone. I squinted, trying to see it better. The hand disappeared, and then lifted again, waving madly. Whoever it belonged to was struggling underwater.

I knew in a moment that it was Remus.

I ran down to the water, my footsteps suddenly unhindered. I was moving almost too fast, too lightly, finding it difficult to keep purchase on the ground as I half-floated. The water was freezing and black, and as I ran into it, my skin turned the colour of charcoal.

As soon as the water was deep enough I dove forward, desperately swimming forward, barely keeping in sight of the waving hand. But the sea was pulling him out further, and as I struggled against the waves they came harder, crashing against my body and pulling me under.

I surfaced gasping, and looked around desperately for a sign of him. But the hand was gone. Suddenly something snared around my ankle underwater, and I barely had time to breathe in before I was yanked down into the darkness.

I woke up sweating, my lungs burning from the continued sensation of inhaling water, my heart beating so hard it hurt. Even though the drowning hadn't been real, it had felt terribly true. It was a long moment before I could breathe, and when I finally did it was a strangled, inward gasp.

This was not the first dream of its kind. For the past three nights I'd been plagued by similar nightmares, which all ended with my somehow losing Remus. The dreams made me wonder if he was alive. It was very possible that something terrible had happened on one of the full moons, and he was not.

I forced myself out of bed and walked across the floor, which was pale grey in the pre-dawn. I stepped under the cold water of the shower, ridding myself of the sweat, until my senses were sharp to reality again. I dried myself and went to dress. I felt the buzzing pulses of energy radiating from my wand. My fear remained. Where was he? Was he alive?

I pulled on my cloak and stepped into my boots, leaving the bedroom and the classroom behind.

Luna was the only other person up and about. She was sitting on the flagstones in the centre of one of the downstairs corridors. She turned when she heard my footsteps. Over her eyes were very strange winged glasses.

"Morning, Wilma," she said, her voice light and dreamy. "Your head's full of nargles. Did you have bad dreams?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Haven't been sleeping too well."

"I didn't think so." If Luna hadn't been so far up in the clouds about everything, her insight would have been infuriating. "Perhaps Severus can help. I believe he has nightmares too."

I hadn't considered this, but wouldn't have doubted it. Surely his time spent among the Death Eaters offered plenty of fuel for terrifying dreams. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to Severus with my own dreams. "Thanks, Luna," I said.

"Is he your new husband?"

"...Yes."

"Interesting," she said. Then she smiled and turned her head away, continuing to look around through her glasses. "Well, I'll see you at breakfast," she said. I watched her for a moment, then took a different corridor outside.

It was the twenty-sixth of March, and the moon was still hanging in the grey sky. A waxing gibbous. The night of the consummation was fast approaching, as was the full moon itself, on the first of April. It would have been Fred's twenty-first birthday. This year, for the first time, George would be turning a year older on his own.

I crept across the grounds until I came to the path leading to Hogsmeade. The trees it led through were chilly and dripping from last night's rain. I couldn't help recalling the night when Severus had met me on this path, and we had seen one of the beings together. The tears he'd tried to conceal from me after it had disappeared. I still wanted to know who he had seen. Perhaps if another one of the creatures appeared, I would learn whether Remus was alive. If I were to see one which took his shape, I would know he was gone forever.

But no twig-cracks turned my head as I walked down the path.

At the end of it sat the Hogsmeade station, and the Hogwarts Express, frozen and still in the crisp air. I followed the path around the edge of the village rather than up the high street, not wanting to be noticed. My body knew where I was headed before my mind did. And soon my destination came into sight. The Shrieking Shack.

I'd never been inside before. Fred and George had gone in loads of times, but I'd never gone with them. Once I'd waited at the fence nearby, gripping my hands together nervously while the two of them went in. I was so relieved when they emerged unscathed. I remembered that time, near Christmas of my second year. The twins had cut sharp paths through the snow on the ground. Now the earth was muddy and barren, and a breeze made the dilapidated house creak desolately.

Now that I knew why the house had been considered haunted–and that it really wasn't–I had no qualms about going inside. I was curious to see it. My desperate soul was following every thread it could, in search of some hint of Remus.

My boots squelched over the mud on the way to the house. As I came into its shadow, I saw just how ruined it really was. The paint was peeling from the boards, and some of the windows were smashed. The front door whined, swinging open on its hinges. I went inside.

Everything was destroyed. There were very old bloodstains on the broken furniture, and on the wallpaper. Being in the house was like being on another planet. I could see the wind moving the trees at the edge of the forest, but it was very quiet inside the house, except for the occasional soft creaking. Cringing away from the sight of the bloodstains, I climbed the stairs, which sagged dangerously, and went through ruined double doors to a room with a broken piano and a dusty bed.

I sat down in a wooden chair by the window. All that remained of its panes was a sharp triangle of glass. Shivering slightly, I watched as the dawn light seeped into the sky.

I mournfully pressed my hand to my chest, remembering the gentleness of Remus's touch. I knew that by being here I was trying to recapture his ghost. I was surrounded by his history, but felt no closer to him.

My head suddenly filled with hateful thoughts. I was making a fool of myself. In my anger I bitterly wished that I had some solid proof that he was dead. Then, I thought, it would be easier to let go.

I walked back to the castle once the sun had floated up over the horizon. I thought perhaps I'd have time to change out of my cloak and boots, but everyone was already congregated in the great hall for breakfast. I decided I could handle Severus's suspicions and went inside, not in the mood for sneaking around.

Severus instantly looked up at me, his eyes sharp. I went to what was becoming my new usual place, beside Sybill and across from Severus and Minerva. I was determined to hide my tempestuous emotions. I let myself breathe, and acted as though nothing had happened this morning.

"Lovely morning for a walk," Hagrid said from down the table, looking approvingly at my boots and cloak.

"It is," I agreed. I thought I caught the tail end of an unpleasant expression on Severus's face, but he looked away.

I survived the meal, feeling the tension coming off of him in waves. I did my best to include myself in conversation with Minerva and Sybill, but couldn't completely ignore the annoyance I felt towards Severus. What was wrong with him?

Breakfast ended after a gruelling hour, and Severus stayed nearby as I went into the entryway with Minerva and Sybill. Eventually the two of them went off, and the great hall was empty. Severus was lingering near the stone suits of armour. We were alone.

"What is it?" I asked, when he refused to speak first. My voice was a bit snappish, and I forced myself to bite back my exasperation.

"When did you leave the castle?"

"I was safe. It was light out."

"Why did you go out so early?"

It took everything I had not to roll my eyes. Not even Arthur Weasley had been so nosey, when I'd been a mischievous teenager under his roof. Molly was a different story, but regardless I felt like I was being lectured for no good reason.

"I was just out for a walk," I said, trying to reassure him with my tone.

"I doubt that," he sneered.

I sighed, covering my mounting irritation with a smile. "Why?"

"You never have before."

I couldn't keep myself from laughing a little in disbelief. "Honestly, Severus, can't I just take a morning walk on my own?"

A sharp look had entered his eyes.

"I was safe," I protested.

"Where did you walk?" he pried. "The Forest?"

"No," I insisted, more serious now. "Stop worrying."

I was trying to stay open to him, but it was a challenge. I didn't want him to know how hard my heart still clung to Remus. I sensed that it would hurt him if he found out. I felt my wall wanting to rise, but kept it from doing so.

"Where," he said, through gritted teeth.

I was startled by his roughness. It felt like a sudden attack, and I didn't understand the reason. I'd assured him I was safe. Why was he demanding to know more?

I finally allowed myself to match his tone. "I don't have to tell you that."

"I want you to."

"I. Don't. Have to."

I held my breath, feeling the space between our bodies. I sensed something deeper behind this sharpness he was forcing, this old mask. He was trying to keep me in the dark, and I simply didn't know how to communicate with him when he was forcing me away. We wouldn't be having this argument if we understood each other.

He was watching me darkly. I tried to step closer to him, my eyes searching his face. "I don't know how to talk to you when you lock yourself away," I said.

I thought it was the most honest thing I had ever told him.

His face slowly changed as he absorbed my words. He looked hurt, and my heart ached at the guardedness that hardened his eyes. His lips were held tightly together and I could see he was holding himself inside.

There was a long moment. It was impossible to move in the thick air. Finally I relinquished the slightest bit of ground. "I just went to Hogsmeade," I said.

Despite the chance I'd given him, his hardness did not abate.

"Why."

I stayed silent. His eyes seemed to heat up, and I was afraid. I felt the walls rise in my mind out of pure instinct, and saw the change in him when he sensed it.

I knew now that he would escape me, and decided to let him. He looked at me bitterly before turning around and disappearing down the corridor.

He'd asked for openness, and I was trying to give it to him. But now he was too distant for me to reach. Everything I did seemed to bring up an old pain I knew nothing about. I felt like he expected me to read his mind. But I couldn't.

I realised I was tightly clenching the hand he'd taken to kissing in the past few days. I felt spite welling up in my throat, and my wand echoed the emotion. I was trying my best, and Severus simply didn't seem to be doing the same.

I hated this. I didn't want to be anywhere near him. Angrily, I turned on my heel and went back through the castle doors. I didn't know where I would spend the day, but I certainly wouldn't spend it in his presence.

I ended up in the Forbidden Forest after all. In my perusal of the private storeroom I'd discovered we were short on a precious ingredient, and remembered that Severus had mentioned it during one of our lessons. I soon found the grove of gnarled old trees where we'd been. There were small white flowers on the ground. Knowing the bulbs I sought tended to grow nearby, I knelt down and began to dig.

Unleashing my anger on the earth felt good. I dug without tools, using my bare hands. My fingernails ached as the dirt pushed beneath them, but I kept on. I found two of the bulbs and tore them out of the ground, setting them by the roots of the tree. Muttering under my breath as I recounted the argument with Severus, I yelped suddenly when something sharp cut my knuckle.

I withdrew my hand, and a small drop of blood dripped down my finger. I looked into the hole I'd made, but couldn't see the cause. Carefully, I felt around for the sharp thing. I felt the pointy corner again, and dug around it. Soon I had unburied a small black rock with sharp corners.

I peered closer at it in the half-light of the forest. It was a very strange rock. I noticed markings on it, and my skin crawled as I realised that they formed the symbol of the deathly hallows.

There was a deep power about it. My skin was cold where I held it. I couldn't believe it, but at the same time knew it without a doubt. This had to be the Resurrection Stone.

I remembered being a little child in a muggle orphanage, knowing I was strange, but incapable of imagining the magical world which existed just out of reach of my fingertips. I never could have imagined, then, all that would happen to me. I certainly couldn't have imagined holding a stone with the power to summon shades of the dead.

A dreadful thought came into my mind, but as soon as it entered I knew it would not leave. What if I used the stone to see if Remus had passed on?

My longing raced ahead of my logic. I knew that to use it would be a great risk. But I was desperate to know. I tried to remember the children's story I'd become familiar with after moving into the Weasley home. The second brother had turned the stone three times in his hand to bring back the woman he'd loved.

I stood in the centre of the clearing, feeling the coldness of the stone in my hand. It was heavier than it should have been, given how small it was. I knew how irresponsible this was. The stone was centuries old, and extremely powerful. But there was no stopping myself. My heart beat rapidly in warning, but my hand was steady with irreversible determination. I would turn it thinking only of Remus.

I trembled with apprehension. What if he appeared? What if he really was gone?

I closed my eyes, my breath trembling, and turned the stone over three times.

There was a change in the air. A certain sighing feeling. A coldness. And then peace.

I opened my eyes.

Standing there, something pale between air and flesh, were Tonks, Sirius, and a man who looked so much like Harry that he couldn't have been anyone but James Potter. Tonks looked beautiful and whole, as she had looked when she'd first been pregnant with Teddy. Sirius seemed much younger than I'd ever known him, as he must have been before twelve years in Azkaban had drained him of his youth.

I looked at the three faces, and felt a wave of calm in my soul. They all looked so rested, so gentle. A small part of me regretted rousing them from their eternal sleep. But they didn't look upset to be here.

I felt euphoria flood my veins as I realised Remus was not among them. The stone must have called them to me because they'd all been very close with him.

"Wilma Weasley," Sirius said. He was smiling.

There was curiosity in Tonks's face. "Wilma," she said.

"Hi," I said, making myself speak for the first time. I turned to Harry's father, realising he had no clue who I was. "Hi, Mr. Potter. I'm a friend of Harry's."

James smiled. "How is he?"

I recalled seeing him and Ginny together in the Burrow. "He's happy."

Tonks was looking at me with an eager expression on her face. "How is Remus? How's Teddy?"

"Teddy is growing up beautifully. Remus…"

The slightest shadow of concern fell over her face.

"What?" Sirius asked. "What's the matter?"

"It's why I used the stone," I said. "I don't know where he is. Can you? Tell me if he's alright?"

James shook his head. "We cannot see the living. But why are you worried about him? What's happened?"

I saw the looks of confusion on their faces and realised I would have to start from the beginning. I suddenly felt worried about how Tonks would react, but she watched me patiently as I began to speak.

"When the war ended… The second war," I added, for James's benefit, "the Ministry instated this law to require marriages between certain wizards and witches. There weren't enough children, and they were worried about the magical population growing too small. Remus and I…"

I looked at Tonks worriedly, but she simply nodded, not seeming at all upset as she realised that her husband had remarried. I considered for the first time that perhaps she would have wanted him to.

"It lasted a few months, but then he went away. I haven't heard from him since, and he hasn't answered any of my patronuses. I wouldn't be afraid, if it weren't…"

They were all listening patiently.

"A few months after the war, we started seeing these strange beings. They impersonate lost loved ones. We still don't know what exactly they are. I'm afraid he might have been taken."

James had furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought. "Remus was always an excellent wizard. I have utter faith he could defend himself against any magical being."

I nodded slowly, knowing he was right. The night Remus had seen the being impersonate Tonks in the woods, he had resisted the temptation to follow it, as I had been unable to do. I didn't want to believe it, though. If Remus hadn't been taken, and he wasn't dead, then that meant he was still deliberately hiding from me.

"Unless it wasn't a magical being that took him," Sirius said.

"Do you know where he would have gone, when he first left?" I asked.

I noticed a momentary tightness in Tonks's face, and remembered that she'd been abandoned just the same. "No idea," she said.

"Norway, likely," Sirius said, with a glance at Tonks. "Or the Black Forest. He went there sometimes during the first war, for his transformations."

There was a silence, and I made my peace with the reality that there was nothing they could do to help.

My gaze fell on James, who looked a bit tired. I realised I was keeping him from Harry's mother.

"I don't want to keep you," I said. "Thank you for trying to help."

James nodded, smiling peacefully. Then he slowly faded away.

"I think he'll come back," Tonks said, her voice strong. "I think I would sense it if he were closer to us than to you."

"Yes," Sirius agreed.

I nodded, grateful for the reassurance. Tonks was considering me. "Will you keep watch over Teddy for me?" she asked.

"I will," I promised.

She nodded with gratitude. "And when you see Remus again, give him a good kick for me," she said, smiling. And then she too faded.

Sirius was now the only one left, and he was looking over my shoulder. "I think there's someone else here for you," he said.

A chill raced down my spine, lighting up my nerves. A calm look came over Sirius's face as he slowly disappeared.

The forest in front of me was empty. But I was not alone.

"Willa?" came a familiar voice, from behind me.

My hand trembled and slowly moved to cover my mouth. I clenched my eyes shut. My heart was thudding audibly in my ears.

I took shallow breaths. His presence had not weakened behind me. I forced my eyes to open, and pressed my hand to my belly as I slowly turned around.

He was standing there under the nearest tree, faintly glowing as the others had done. I had seen him when the being had taken his shape, but I saw now that its imitation had been laughable. This was truly him–his spirit–his soul.

"Fred," I breathed.

He smiled, that old smile which had burrowed its way into my heart and planted itself there forever. It was altogether too easy for my eyes to accept that he was standing here. It was as though no time had passed at all.

But there was a slight strain in his expression. Clearly he'd heard everything I'd said to the others. "Professor Lupin, eh?" he asked.

I nodded silently. Fred had wanted to be my husband himself.

There seemed to be many things he wanted to say. "He'd better come back," he said, after a moment. "Is the Ministry doing anything?"

"They tried. But their owls can't find him."

I paused for a moment, unsure of whether to tell him about Severus. I decided I should. "You're never going to guess who I'm married to now," I said, letting the old jokester in me rise to the surface. I simply couldn't tell him without making a bit of fun out of it.

He looked at me, his expression mirroring mine. "Who, Snape?" he said, with a smirk.

I looked at him blankly for a moment. "As a matter of fact, yes."

His eyes were filled with shock, but his mouth was already curling into a smile. And a split second later we burst into laughter. His laugh was just as real as it had always been, just as alive. That was the fundamental part of him, which would never be truly killed. I realised as I heard my own laughter, that it was the first time I'd really laughed since the war. Loud and unrestrained. Here, for a moment, was a refuge from the difficulties of my relationship with Severus, my anxieties about Remus. For a moment, I was simply with Fred, and we were both alive again.

The laughter faded. I realised there were tears on my cheeks, and brushed them away. Fred stepped forward, as though to help, but then seemed to realise he wouldn't be able to hold me.

"Snape?" he said, astounded.

"It's alright," I assured him.

His face changed into an uncertain expression. "How did that happen?" he asked. "Are you safe?"

I explained to him all that had been discovered after the war. How Severus had been a spy, and had not truly supported Voldemort. "He's not a bad man," I told Fred, who was looking slightly reassured. "He's very difficult, though."

"I can imagine," he said. I sensed a bit of his old protectiveness, and I felt my heart throb pitifully. "Is he good to you?"

"Yes," I said, after considering it. "He's trying."

Fred nodded. The answer seemed to satisfy him. A different look came into his eyes, almost bashful. "How is everyone?" he asked.

I told him all about the family, about Ginny and Harry, about George and the other boys. About Fleur's pregnancy, and Molly and Arthur, whose love was just as strong as ever.

There was a soft expression on his face as he listened. I thought of your warm, living family, and Fred off on his own; and a sadness came over me. "Are you lonely? Where you are?"

"Not very," he said. "There are some weird old Weasleys that are very amusing. You can't imagine the people you meet…" he trailed off.

I nodded slowly as I let it all sink in. So there really was an afterlife. When I died, I would see him again. I detected a tiredness growing in his eyes. I remembered the story of the three brothers, and knew that I couldn't keep him here much longer–even if I wanted to keep him forever.

More tears slipped from my eyes, for a very different reason now. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Fred answered. He seemed to know that I was preparing to let go.

"Fred?" I asked. There was one more thing, and I had to ask. "After you died…"

I hesitated. He nodded.

"...I started hearing your voice in my head. I can still hear you sometimes. And I talk with you. Is it… really you?"

He shook his head. "No," he said. "Though I wish it could be. What do I do, tell jokes all the time?"

"Sometimes," I said.

"Good. You seem to be losing your sense of humour."

I smiled sadly. "You were always my sense of humour."

"That's not true," he said. "You're the funniest person I know, when you're not thinking."

I smiled.

I suddenly knew, with my whole body, that after I let go of the stone, I was never going to hear his voice again. Not until I had lived my whole life, and joined him. But that was a long way away, and I imagined the intervening years with a painful feeling in my chest.

"I can't leave on my own," he said, after a long moment. "Like the others. I can feel it."

I knew that this was because I'd allowed the others to go, and my whole being wanted Fred to stay.

I would have to put down the stone, in order to set him free.

My voice wavered. "I love you," I said. "I will always…"

He slowly smiled at me. That old smile. Shaking, I put my hand into the pocket of my jumper, the hand that held the stone.

"I'm going to let go now," I said.

He nodded his head. I felt the tears rolling down my face, unstoppable. "You'll be good," Fred assured me. "You'll be okay."

I nodded.

"I love you, Willa," he said.

The stone seemed to burn inside my palm. Very slowly I eased my hand open, looking at Fred, breathing him in as deeply as I could through the tightness in my throat. The stone loosened, and slowly tumbled across my fingers, dropping into my pocket.

His face eased as he faded. I watched… and watched… and soon I was looking at the place where he had been, dark and empty.

The stone was heavy in my pocket. There was a hollow feeling inside of me. An emptiness in the small nook of my brain which his voice had occupied. I stared for some time at the air.

I thought perhaps I should leave the stone in the forest, as I had found it, but then decided I would hand it over to McGonagall. She would know what was best. I walked out of the forest without any of the bulbs I'd planned to harvest, the stone hidden in my pocket.

The castle was quiet, but I did see Professor Flitwick on my way up to Minerva's office. "Alright after the other day, Miss Weasley?" he asked. "Nasty things, boggarts."

"Yes," I said, smiling. Though I'd felt miserable after Fred had disappeared, I now felt a bit lighter. As though some weight had been lifted from me. "Thanks for taking care of it. I was in a bit of a shambles."

"I would have been too, if I'd found it. Lucky Snape was there. He's good with them."

We went our separate ways after a few remarks about the weather. It was pleasant. It was early afternoon now, and the sunlight was gentle on the lake and the hills.

I reached Minerva's office, and knocked on the door. "Come in!" her voice called. She smiled when she saw me, and invited me to sit, but I remained standing.

"I found something in the Forest," I said, feeling no qualms about being direct. "The Resurrection Stone."

A startled look entered her eyes. "Are you certain?"

I withdrew the stone from my pocket and placed it on the desk. She leaned forward and studied it through her spectacles. Then she withdrew and looked at me, her lips parted. I saw that she was wondering whether I had used it, but she did not ask.

"I thought I should bring it to you," I told her.

"You were right to. I will ensure this is well hidden in the headmaster's office. Hogwarts is the only place for such a thing. Not even the Ministry…"

I nodded.

She was looking at the stone intently, and I could see the temptation in her eyes. I thought perhaps I should confess to using it, suddenly feeling the need to get it off my chest. But I decided against it. I thought from the look in her eyes that she might go through with using it herself. But then there was a decision which I clearly saw on her face, and I knew she would not.

I passed the rest of the afternoon in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, working through the restricted books that Severus had recommended.

I still felt the bittersweet feeling of relief from earlier. Seeing Fred had been cathartic, as had been my ability to let go of the stone. I sensed that, perhaps, I would not feel so much pain when I thought of him now.

Remus, however…

The nightmares were worrying to me. I could not rule out the possibility that he was in danger. But now that I knew for certain he was alive, I thought it more likely that he was hiding away from me, unable to face what he had done. I knew how his heart worked. The more time that passed, the more impossible it would be for him to return. I was not so sure, as I searched my own heart, that if he did come back, I would be able to fully forgive him.

A knock on the door interrupted my slow-moving thoughts. I rose from the desk and opened it to see Severus. I wasn't surprised that it was him. My subconscious mind had recognised his knock.

I stood in the doorway, looking up at him expectantly, waiting to see what he would say.

He looked a bit stiff, but not aggressive. He waited a moment, until he understood I was not going to speak first.

"I apologise. For my behaviour this morning. You can walk where and when you wish."

It seemed that it had pained him to apologise, but at least he had said it.

"I know," I said.

He simply nodded. I could see he was guilty about the argument, but he was hiding it behind that firm mask of his. After another long pause he began to walk away, but I stopped him.

"Severus–"

He turned and waited.

"Thank you," I tried, wishing to nudge that mask aside, even just a bit.

But he only nodded again, his face unchanged, and disappeared down the spiral staircase.