It had been the first pleasant night since the end of the war.
Remus Lupin had been rather guilted into staying at The Burrow post-Battle of Hogwarts - "I want us all together," insisted Molly, and it seemed apparent that there was no arguing against her. He would never admit that it had been nice to not be alone after everything had happened...it was all still so complicated, and though he was more used to being alone, he didn't know how he would have endured it in the midst of all these emotions.
The relief that Harry was alive...the horror that he had somewhat died in the first place. The horror of who they had lost, and just how close he and his loved ones had come to oblivion. Along with the entire wizarding world, frankly. His stomach turned thinking about finding Snape's remains in the Shrieking Shack and making arrangements for them to be interned in the Heroes' Cemetery in Scotland, where many of the victims of the First Wizarding War had been buried, and those from this one would now also be memorialized. Many people were still facing Snape's true story with deeply complicated feelings, and Remus was among them. But, Harry's insistence helped win him over enough to respect the sacrifices his old foe had apparently made in the name of his sweetest old friend.
It was ecstasy that the war was finally over...but, as his former student had so astutely observed the prior evening, it didn't feel like a flawless victory. Perhaps that was what had caused her feelings of shame. The disappointment in finding that winning didn't fill in the holes that had been carved out of one's heart over years of tragedy. The holes, rather, would simply remain, being rounded out by the erosion of time and yes, crumbling at the sides less and less, but still empty. And they could never be filled.
Or could they, in some way?
He realized having Hermione's company turned what had been a self-reflection steadily becoming a self-hatred into something, well, with a purpose. She needed help, she needed support, and she seemed to trust him for that - so that made him worth it even in a small, singular way. It made him worth taking up space and breathing in air, even if that space was separate from everyone else and that air was tainted with nicotine-stained smoke. It had been enough for her.
He didn't like how this realization made him feel, however. The great relief he'd experienced in finding some purpose in her comfort reminded him too much of his relief in Harry's inexplicable apparent resurrection, and he thought that he really shouldn't be comparing them at all. He shamed himself for it, like she had for waking up weeping after defeating what was thought to be possibly the greatest evil to have ever existed. It felt selfish, in a way. After so long selflessly toiling for the cause of good, he felt like he shouldn't be craving any sort of satisfaction. And that satisfaction shouldn't make him as happy as a miracle had, right?
Hermione had left him after dawn without a word but with a light pat on the shoulder as he remained sitting on the ledge. It was the first time he'd felt truly hopeful at the breaking of a new day in a long time. Maybe, if he could still do some good, and if there was still some good in the world like this very earnest girl whom he'd stumbled into meeting during this terrible war, then the world was worth all the pain it had taken to save it.
Molly came down to prepare another voluminous breakfast shortly after Remus reentered the Burrow, and he sat reading the Daily Prophet as the woman hummed through her morning cooking. She had miraculously made it to the other side of the Battle with her entire family intact, despite their closeness to Voldemort's number-one target. Who wouldn't be living in a rose-colored wonderland after that bit of luck?
He was staring out the window over the drooping Prophet clasped loosely in his hands when Molly interjected suddenly after stirring copious amounts of batter. "'Right then, Remus?" she enquired, raising one fire-colored eyebrow. Remus started at the interruption; his mind had been drifting to how the moon had looked the night before, reflected in the small lake (or was it a large pond?) beneath the ledge and illuminating Hermione's dress. Nightgown, he corrected himself, then balked.
"Oh, yes, Molly. Need a hand?"
She smiled at him and waved hers in his direction. "Never you mind. You just look a little peaky, is all."
"Not a lot of sleep," he responded, shrugging sheepishly. She nodded.
"I understand completely. I'm still buzzing from the end of it all. It's just so...exciting, what the world can be now. What life can be. Not always worrying..." She glanced errantly at the Weasleys' enchanted clock, which showed every member of the family (including, now, Fleur) as Home. Molly didn't even feel the need to fastidiously carry the clock around the house with her anymore. "I never thought it would be possible."
He squinted at her, wishing he had that same sense of peace. "Yes, of course."
Molly took a moment, then pressed ahead. "You're feeling...well, then?"
He realized that she was also asking about the wolf inside of him. "Ah, yes," he responded, folding the Prophet on his lap. "We depleted Snape's private stores before we left Hogwarts. He had at least one flask of just about every important potion you could think of, including Wolfsbane. I'll have to figure out how to obtain more in the fall, however...there is only enough for the next few moons." Remus registered Molly's obvious relief that her family wouldn't have to personally deal with his more violent transformations this summer as he stayed with them. "I'll be fine just...finding a place outside to stay for the evening. If you have a shed, perhaps."
"Oh, good. Good." She returned to bustling at the stove and he looked back out the window, feeling the loneliness creep back into his heart. As long as the wolf was inside of him, struggling to break out from beneath his ribs, no one would ever fully let him in, fully care for him. He would always have to do that himself, because he would always be a risk.
At breakfast, Remus noticed many wordless moments pass between the various members of the family and their compatriots. He often caught things many others didn't, because he often was set apart from the rest of the group. Not purposefully, but subtextually. He hadn't felt like he belonged with anyone since James and Lily had been murdered and his whole world had broken apart, and so he existed on the outskirts of familial love. It was nice to be in the general region, at least.
He noticed Harry covertly swipe a hand across Ginny's backside as he scooted by her to grab a plate, and he noticed Ginny's cheeks flush scarlet under her spray of freckles. This made Remus smirk, as it reminded him so much of something James would have done to Lily when sitting for breakfast in the Great Hall. He also noticed when when Fleur pulled a similar trick on Bill as she leaned past him for the eggs, and he registered Bill's always-humble response to the come-ons of his stunning wife. He noticed that Fred and George seemed to be deep in some scheming relating to the store, and he also heard them mention Ron's name quite a few times in their mutterings. Then, of course, he noticed Hermione make her way down the creaky Burrow stairs to breakfast.
He also noticed that, unlike the rest of the group aside from himself - which also included Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson staying over the summer - Hermione was not still clad in her pajamas. She had changed out of the prim white nightgown into a pair of denim Bermuda shorts, a pale yellow sleeveless blouse, and a pair of slip-on plaid trainers. He also realized that over the last few weeks she had started to take care of her hair differently - perhaps a styling charm each morning. It was now neatly pulled away from her face with a plastic clip, and soft brown waves skimmed her bare, freckled shoulders. She smiled at him from over the magically-elongated dining table and shot him a little shrug, as if to conspiratorially reference the previous anxious evening. He crooked a smile at her in return and shook his head free of the static that buzzed inside of it before reaching for the marmalade.
Much talk was made of the rest of the summer and what plans laid ahead. Harry's 18th birthday would be observed, of course; along with Hermione's just before she went back to Hogwarts for her honorary "eighth year". He was impressed with her determining to still take her NEWTS, as both Harry and Ron had opted to instead go straight to training within the Ministry to see if they would want to become Aurors. Which, of course, in itself was impressive - but something about Hermione still wanting to accomplish her original goal no matter how exemplary or extraordinary she had already proven herself to be was unabashedly admirable.
They'd also be celebrating Bill and Fleur's first wedding anniversary and Ginny having gotten the official word that she'd been made captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team for her last year at Hogwarts. And, it seemed, it was common knowledge that that summer would be treated as a careless and worry-free adventure, their reward for the years of darkness. He couldn't figure out, however, if he felt particularly entitled to that reward.
After breakfast, Remus was back to reading the Prophet as the dishes cleaned themselves quietly in the sink when a purposeful rap came at the front door. Molly bustled in from the pantry and opened the door to find Minerva McGonnagall standing on the stoop, looking regal in plum-colored robes. "Minerva! My word, I had no idea - you just missed breakfast, but I think I could get you a plate-"
"Oh, no thank you, Molly," responded McGonnagall, stepping into the Burrow. "I won't be here long. I just wanted to see-" She spotted Lupin sitting in the front room. "Remus!"
Lupin stood and walked over to the older witch, stooping to give her a respectful kiss on the cheek. "Hello, Minerva. How are you?"
"I'm here to see you," she responded, which didn't answer his question much at all. He raised his eyebrows and searched his mind to figure out why she possibly had made some sort of journey on his account, but nothing stuck out in his mind.
"Me, really?"
"Yes," she replied smartly. "May we speak in the yard?" Molly tilted her head at this, unsure if McGonnagall was trying to purposely cut her out of the conversation. Remus, befuddled, nodded and followed the woman back outside.
Minerva clicked the door closed and crossed her arms, looking appraisingly at Remus. He stood there, slightly below her, with one foot still on the bottom stair and a look of bemusement on his face. "Everything all right, Minerva?"
"I have a proposition for you," she responded, once more not really answering him.
He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, regretting his shabby appearance after not changing from the evening before. McGonnagall had that effect on you. "All right?" The image of him sitting next to Hermione on the ledge early that morning flitted across his mind, though he couldn't understand why. Was he in some kind of trouble?
"I would like you to return to your post as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." This truly stunned him, and he took a surprised step back, almost stumbling as his foot connected clumsily with the ground. McGonnagall crooked an eyebrow at him, gazing steadily.
"Pardon, I just-"
"You didn't expect it."
"I...certainly did not."
Minerva nodded and walked down the stairs past Remus to stand on the brick path in front of the house. "You resigned your post once before. The most recent professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts is..." McGonnagall battled uncharacteristic vagueness in her wording here. "...gone. And the students need a proper educator more than ever."
"Minerva, while I truly appreciate-"
"I will stop you there, Remus." She held up a hand to him, and he promptly snapped his mouth shut. "I know what your protestations will be. That parents will not want you teaching their students."
"Well, of course-"
"I am installing a diversity initiative in all new hiring at Hogwarts. In observance of those who gave their lives in the Battle," she elaborated. "Their sacrifice helped save the wizarding world. It deserves to be marked with continuing, real change."
"That's wonderful, truly, but what does-"
"Diversity comes in all shapes, Mr. Lupin. Just a short couple of centuries ago, those of non-Magical blood were not allowed to teach in Hogwarts. Even the most forward-thinking of educational institutions was backwards in their acts. A life sacrifice should not only apply to the moment in which it's given - it should be honored with tangible actions." Remus smiled; he wasn't used to the prim-and-proper witch seeming so, well, revolutionary.
"Well, that's absolutely incredible, really...but I don't see how that applies to my situation."
"We need respect toward all those that are a part of our community. That means werewolves, along with all other magical beings with good intent. What better example than a brilliant man, who happens to be a war hero, and also happens to have a magical affliction that needs more acceptance? So, simply put, we would like you back, Remus. There is no other person I can think of who would fulfill the position to the abilities that you would. I have said once already, the students need you. I believe you know I don't make a habit of repeating myself once I have been clear."
The front door popped open, and Ginny Weasley - now clad in capri shorts and a Holyhead Harpies tee shirt - tumbled out onto the stoop, with Hermione following closely behind. The girls sensed immediately that they were interrupting some sort of serious conversation between Lupin and McGonnagall, and paled with embarrassment as they rushed down the stairs to head toward the large shed where the Weasleys kept their Quidditch gear. Hermione was holding a book in her hand with a finger holding her place in the pages; she shot Remus a look over her shoulder as she trod down the path behind Ginny, raising her eyebrows in an interested expression. He smiled and shook his head, almost imperceptibly.
He looked back at McGonnagall and sighed. "I suppose I don't really have a choice in the matter?"
"Depends on your sense of duty, Mr. Lupin," replied McGonnagall with the ghost of a smile.
"I will be out of Wolfsbane after school begins."
"We have the entire Hogwarts potion stores and library at our disposal, Remus," sighed McGonnagall. "I daresay we'll be able to think of something."
He laughed to himself. "This is not what I expected this morning."
"You are needed, Remus. Those coming back to school-" she pointed at the backs of the two girls, who were now out of listening distance. "-Need you."
Needed. It reminded him of his great feeling of relief this morning. Remus rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. "Whatever you need, Minerva. I'm at your service." McGonnagall finally smiled, triumphant.
"Good. That's good to hear. I will be sending more information by owl as the summer progresses. You'll have your own office, of course, as before - and Hagrid is in the process of installing a small cabin for you near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It will provide sufficient privacy, including for when..." She didn't need to elaborate; she meant the transformation. "There will also be the Shrieking Shack in case of necessity."
Remus smirked at her. "Hagrid is already in the process, eh?" She had no intention of even possibly letting me turn this down, he thought to himself.
McGonnagall's lips tightened, but Lupin had a feeling this might have actually been to stifle a small laugh. "Efficiency is key, Mr. Lupin," was all that she responded, before disappearing with a pop.
The werewolf sighed and sat down on the bottom step of the stoop, perching his elbow on his knee and his knuckles on his chin. He rubbed another hand over his forearm, where a particularly nasty gash from the Battle was still refusing to fully heal. Remus didn't know what his plan had been for after this summer "break", but it had certainly never been this. He watched Ginny bound away from the shed with her broomstick toward the orchard, where Fred, George, Lee, Angelina, Ron, and Harry had already dispatched to post-breakfast.
Hermione followed after, and Remus absently thought of the glow of Felix Felicis as the midsummer sun shattered through her soft and flowing hair.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Any comments or feedback is much, much appreciated. So excited to see how this all transpires for our characters... Song referenced in the chapter title is "Only the Lonely", by Roy Orbison.