Amid My Solitude, 7 of 7

[sam_storyteller]

How much it was of him we met
We cannot ever know; nor yet
Shall all he gave us quite atone
For what was his, and his alone.
-- Edwin Arlington Robertson

"That's it. No rush. The stretch is the important part."

The encouraging voice. The many platitudes. The kind assistance. The gentle urges.

Remus was this close to strangling Danae Pedimentia.

"I'm not a child," he said, realising as he said it how petulant he sounded.

"Of course not, dear," she replied. "Now, if you get to the bed from here we'll have a lovely dinner brought in."

"I'm not hungry."

"Nonsense, a fine young man like yourself needs some flesh on his bones."

"Healer Pedimentia -- "

"Please! Call me Danae."

Remus gritted his teeth and walked another few steps, stopping for breath at the end of it. That Harpy put her hands on her hips and smiled.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it? You're almost to the bed. Did you do your walking this morning?"

"Of course I did."

"Good. If all goes well, tomorrow you'll be walking normally again. Won't that be fun?"

"A riot," he murmured. "The world will be my oyster."

"Now there's the spirit!" she tapped him on his right forearm. "And look how well this is healing," she added, plucking at his left wrist. The wound was nearly closed, though still painful. The new skin was pale, discoloured. "All your visitors will be so pleased."

"My what?" he asked, glancing at her.

"Oh, you know," she waved a hand. "I told them they'd have to wait until after you'd had dinner. Mr. Weasley upset you this morning, I could tell."

"People have been waiting -- and you said -- "

"I said you'd never heal if you were sitting about talking all day!" she said brightly. "Mr. Weasley's come to see you, and his children. And that lovely Mr. Shacklebolt, and of course dear Harry Potter."

He stared at her.

"Get out," he said.

"Now, Mr. Lupin -- "

"Leave this room before I beat you to death with this cane!" he cried. She flinched away from him.

"I'm only trying to help, I'm sure," she said fussily.

"OUT!"

She squeaked and hurried out when he lifted the cane, and he panted for breath. After a moment, Harry peered in the room.

"Did you threaten to kill a Healer?" he asked, by way of greeting.

"I promised," Remus grunted, leaning on the cane. "If she comes back, tell her I'm willing to go to prison just for the pleasure of seeing her suffocate."

"I don't think she's coming back," Harry said. "You want some help?"

"No, I think I'll just...stand for a while. How...how are you? How is...everything?"

Harry shrugged. "Okay I guess. There was some big super-secret meeting I wasn't allowed to be at, as usual."

"I doubt it was as exciting as it sounds," Remus murmured. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"You look better," Harry offered.

"Be hard to look worse than I did."

"Ron and Ginny and Hermione came too, but Hermione had to go home, and the others went to get something to eat with Mr. Weasley."

"Oh."

"And Tonks too. I mean she just came for a moment..."

"Did she?"

"Yeah. The Healer came down and said we could go talk to you just as Tonks got there, and she decided to go get Kingsley. So I came in."

"That was nice of you."

Harry toed at the floor with the edge of his trainer.

"We should get you some new shoes," Remus observed.

"Guess so. I'll do it when I'm in Diagon Alley. You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Sort of my job, now, I think."

"Yeah."

"Sirius wanted to, you know."

Harry looked up at him. Remus regarded the boy warily.

"He used to talk about it. He wanted to take you to Diagon Alley for your books, and buy you new robes and all. And he wanted to put his fist through your uncle's head, too," Remus added, pulling a smile from somewhere.

"So do I," Harry said.

"Well, once you're out of school I guess you can leave them behind forever."

"I'm counting the days."

"I hear you want to be an Auror."

"If I get in." Harry bit his lip. "You're okay, aren't you?"

"I will be."

"Good."

"I'll find out what the meeting was about," Remus offered. "I think you ought to be in on it. On what we do."

"Thanks."

Another uncomfortable silence.

"Did Sirius love me?" Harry blurted, suddenly. Remus blinked.

"What...?"

"Did he love me? Like you do?" Harry asked, his words pouring out in a rush. "I mean I know it's stupid to think, he was supposed to love me and that, and it's not like he had to but -- "

"Harry..." Remus swallowed. "You're James' son. Of course he...what do you mean, like I do?"

Harry kicked the floor again. "I saw stuff. When I was helping Professor Snape. And I never got to see in Sirius' thoughts like I did in yours and I just thought..."

Remus watched the boy. "Harry, you are the son of my dearest friend in the world, and Sirius was even closer to James than I was. However much I care about you, Sirius..." he trailed off. "Yes. Yes he did. He asked about you, you know. All the time. He asked me so many questions about you, how you did in school, what were you like, did you fancy any girls, what your favourite colour was, idiotic questions. Every bloody day, questions about you."

Harry nodded. "So I guess he liked me all right, then."

"Yeah."

"You miss him?"

"All the time."

Harry looked thoughtful. Remus waited patiently.

"I'm going to go find Tonks," Harry said finally. "I'm glad you're all right."

"Thanks. Tell her I'd like to see her."

Harry nodded, and backed out the door. Remus watched him go, tapping the cane-tip idly.

I want to give him the world, Sirius had said once, in an unguarded moment. I want to give him everything he should have had for fifteen years and I can't even leave this house.

And I can, Remus had replied, and haven't anything to give.

Sirius had laughed then, and changed the subject quickly.

Sirius would have laughed at him too, for taking up with Nymphadora Tonks. But Sirius liked Tonks, and would have approved. He might have threatened a bit, she was his cousin after all; might even have warned him off of her. But that day, when Remus gave Harry the motorbike...Sirius would have looked at them sitting on the porch steps and he would have approved. Remus was sure of that.

And James...

He shook his head to clear it, and when he looked up Tonks was standing in the doorway.

"I couldn't find Kingsley," she muttered. "And Harry said you wanted to -- "

"Dora," he said quietly.

"Don't call me that," she replied, closing the door. She drifted forward, not meeting his eyes, and he wondered how many uncomfortable conversations he was going to have that day.

"I'm sorry."

"Well," she said, "in the grand scheme of your screwups to date, it's a pretty small infraction."

He nodded. She tried to meet his eyes, and he glanced down, quickly.

"Have you talked with Arthur today?" he asked.

"No. Not with anyone. I um..." she made a gesture. "I've been tired. And not...much...liking people right now."

"Me either." He paused. "Arthur told me...what Snape said. About you. I'd like you to know, the idea of strangling him barehanded is more appealing by the day."

"Please don't make jokes."

He nodded again. This was Tonks' territory, this unstable boundary between what they had been and what they were. These were her rules, because he was fumbling his way through this, and he was the one who had ruined it in the first place.

"I want to know when you started thinking that," she said quietly. "Because I want to know if you thought I was a spy and slept with me anyway."

"I never acted on the thought," he said, raising his voice slightly.

Her own voice was like a whipcrack. "So you did. Sleep with me. After you thought I was a Death Eater."

"I never just assumed -- "

"So you used me!" she shouted.

"I can't fight with you about this right now," he said, softly.

"You say that every time we fight!"

"Well, this time it's because I can hardly breathe," he snarled. "In case you hadn't noticed, I nearly bled to death."

"Doesn't seem to have affected your temper at all -- "

"Stop it!" said a new voice. Tonks turned. Remus, bowing his head, didn't have to.

"This is between Tonks and myself, Harry," he said, chest heaving. "Please."

"You're both being idiots," Harry said, standing in the doorway.

Tonks sighed. "It's none of your concer -- "

Harry scowled. "It's every bit my concern!" he cried. "You're my godfather, Remus!"

"Guardian, Harry, guardian," Remus murmured, leaning heavily on the cane. "You're grown past the need for a -- "

"Shut up!" Harry's hands clenched into fists. "And you're not letting him explain!" he added, glaring murderously at Tonks.

"I hardly see how anyone can explain away thinking I'm a spy while sleeping with me," she said. "Harry, this is not something you should -- "

"You're being stupid!" Harry looked so much like James for a moment that Remus paled. "I want to talk to you, Tonks."

"I'm already shouting at one person, thanks -- " she broke off when he grabbed her sleeve and pulled. Remus watched as Harry dragged her, protesting, from the room, then let out a breath, slowly. His right hand went to his left forearm, where the skin itched. He rubbed it, wincing at the pain, and then turned back to the thick metal cane that he was supposed to be using to help him stretch his muscles.

***

Outside, Harry pulled her along until they were in a deserted part of the hospital. She went, more because he seemed genuinely upset than because she wanted to go; when he finally stopped, she was so surprised she almost ran into him.

"I'm going to show you something," he said. "Hold still."

"Harry, what are you -- Harry, you're not a Legilimens -- "

"I know how," Harry said, with the supreme confidence of the young. He ignored her protests, pressing his hands to her face, effectively pinning her to the wall, thumbs over the bridge of her nose as he'd seen Snape do. And the world went white...

It was like being in a pensieve. Everything seemed...washed out, not quite real. She looked around, but there wasn't anything to see; just white. A touch on her arm told her Harry was still with her.

"I can't do it right," he said, voice echoing strangely, "But I think I can..."

There was the sound of rushing air, and there was Remus, bent over a desk, writing. Harry pushed her, and she walked forward, looking over his shoulder. She couldn't see anything on the paper, but she could hear him, talking under his breath.

"It's too much, too soon, I'm not ready, I'm playing about fetching Harry while real things are happening in the real world, and I don't want to read them in reports, I want to fix them -- like last time when all I could do was talk. I know what it's like to be a spy, I know what it's like not to be trusted, I can't think of it that way. Snape's watching me. Arthur's watching me. Dumbledore's carefully not watching me. Not because I'm a spy, because I'm supposed to be a leader but nobody's told me how I'm going to do that..."

He trailed off, suddenly, and looked up at her. A smile spread across his face.

"What're you doing here, Dora?" he asked. He pushed back the chair and stood, wrapping an arm around her waist so fast she didn't have time to pull away. "I'm glad you came," he said, face a few inches from hers, hips pressed against her.

"Is this your memory?" she asked, wide-eyed. He shook his head.

"It's me through Harry," he said. "Surely even Harry couldn't put you right into my head. It's what he took away with him, afterward."

"Oh," she said, a little disappointed. He lifted her chin, spread his fingers across her cheek.

"So pretty," he said quietly. "So smart. No reason in the world to choose me. And we fit together." He kissed her, lips warm and real on hers. "Fit together so well..."

Suddenly, in the middle of the kiss, he tensed, and stopped.

"Too well," he said. "Nothing's supposed to be this good. Can't be this good. Not for me. My luck doesn't run that way. You can't know me that well, nobody knows me that well, you must be -- you must be looking for...weaknesses...?"

She watched, confused, as he backed away from her. "If I'm in love with you, it must be a trick," he said. "I'm not allowed."

"Remus, that's just stupidity, why would I..." she trailed off, realising.

Snape had only told her that Remus thought she was a spy. He hadn't told her why.

Harry was telling her why.

"I -- I can't talk about this," Remus said, walking backwards, quickly now. "I can't. I have to go. I have places to go -- " he turned and ran, vanishing as he'd come, but before he faded entirely there was a scream of pain, half-cut-off --

She started forward and felt a hand on her shoulder. Harry again, holding her back.

"Did it work?" he asked.

"Didn't you see?"

He smiled. "No, I was...having a talk with someone. Did it work?"

She turned and leaned into him, into the soft striped Gryffindor shirt he was wearing, and he wrapped his arms around her and then --

Then they were back in the sterile hospital hallway, she pressed to the wall, Harry standing in front of her, hands still on her face. His green eyes watched hers cautiously.

"I didn't do it right," he muttered, hands falling away. "I mean I heard the music but it wasn't quite -- "

"You did fine," she managed, swallowing. "How did you...?"

"I saw Snape doing it and something just...clicked," he said. "The music."

"What music?"

He shook his head. "Just...a thought I had. It's nothing. Um." Harry stepped back and rubbed his neck, thoughtfully. "Tonks, I won't tell."

"Tell...?"

"About..." he gestured, a bit distractedly, to her abdomen. She blushed.

"You could see?" she asked. He nodded. "How...much could you see...?"

"Just a little. One note," he added, almost affectionately. "Is he...I mean...is it Remus?"

She nodded.

"Oh. That's good, I guess. He's normal you know. Not normal, I mean...he's not a werewolf."

Tonks blinked. "Remus isn't?"

"Oh! No -- him. Um." Harry made the gesture again. "Junior."

Tonks, who had suffered a lot in the past few days, began to giggle uncontrollably. "Junior," she gasped, sliding down the wall, tears of laughter on her cheeks. "Harry, it's about two weeks old. You don't even know -- "

"Yes I do," Harry said confidently. He was grinning. "No puppies for Tonks."

"Puppies..." she started laughing all over again. She pushed herself up and grabbed him, pulling him into a real hug. "Thank you, Harry. That was just exactly the slap in the face I needed."

He squirmed to get free and grinned uncertainly at her, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"I think I've got just a little more yelling to do," she said. "But I promise it'll end well this time."

He nodded, and stood in the hallway as she headed back towards Remus' room.

***

It was so hard to take even a few steps. It wasn't the pain, he was used to pain, it was the feeling of not being able to use his body fully. The annoyance of being at the mercy of others if he needed food, or anything further away than the bathroom.

One, two steps -- just like in the river --

He cried out in frustration and threw the cane at the bed. It clattered to the floor, far out of reach.

Well, now you're really screwed, Lupin.

He took a hesitant, shuffling step towards the bed. One, two. Harry and Tonks waiting for him on the other side, remember that?

Except Tonks was furious with him, and rightly so...and Harry was just plain furious.

One, two...

The door opened, and he looked up; lost his balance, overcompensated, and fell. The crack of his body against the floor matched perfectly with the sudden stabbing pain in his legs.

"Oh -- bollocks."

He curled up, waiting for the pain to pass as he knew it would; wanting to say so, wanting to say he was fine, it was just pain, but he couldn't talk, couldn't breathe...

Someone was lifting his shoulders, pulling him up. He whined, but managed to stagger against them and got to the bed, where he finally stood and pushed the other body away. He'd do this himself or not at all.

"I didn't mean to startle you."

That was Tonks' voice, and he looked up; it was Tonks, tear-tracks on her cheeks, eyes wide and confused, who had helped him up. He tried to breathe against the pain.

"I'm okay," he gasped. "Just give me a minute..."

"...it's all right..."

"...and we can yell again..."

"Well, as long as I've got you," she said, putting a hand on his chest, "shut up and listen to me for a minute."

He blinked at her. "Okay," he panted.

"Harry just performed the sweetest Legilimency I've ever seen done by anyone, let alone a teenaged boy," she said, her voice low. He watched warily. "You see he just took his memories of what he saw when he and Snape were working on you, and he shoved them into my head."

"Did it hurt?" he asked, confused now.

"Very much," she replied. "He showed me just why you thought I was a spy."

"Good trick," Remus said bitterly.

"You thought you weren't worth me?" she asked, brushing hair out of his eyes. He jerked his head away. "You thought nobody could possibly fit you so well, so I must have been faking. I must have had some other motive."

"I tried to stop thinking it."

"Yes, so you ran away. So you wouldn't have to think either way," she finished. He could feel her hip, pressing against his thigh, as he leaned on the bed. "That was really, really stupid, you know."

"Well, I wasn't thinking," he muttered, in a weak attempt at humour.

"Everyone gets allowed a mistake now and then," she said. She slid, a little, so that their bodies were even; this close, he couldn't actually turn so that his face was away from her. "But I expect you to be perfect from now on."

He turned slightly, and caught her eye. "What?"

"You had your big screwup. With me, I mean. The whole spy thing. And the running-away thing. And the almost-dying. I mean normally I'd give you three big screwups, but you sort of blew them all at once." She kissed the side of his mouth. "So from now on, you are not allowed to indulge in stupid self-delusion."

"I don't -- "

"Remus, stop being intentionally thick."

He narrowed his eyes. "Unfair, Tonks."

She nuzzled the spot where his jaw met his neck, felt his pulse jump. "Possibly. But since I love you, and I don't want you running away every time I say it, I figure if I piss you off now, it'll save time in the long run."

He gave a little moan and leaned his head back, letting her touch -- one hand on his chest, the other on his shoulder, face buried in his neck. She was like a drug; not something he could resist at close quarters, not something he wanted to resist. His left arm awkwardly lifted to stroke her hair, and before he realised it he was holding her tight against him, right hand stroking the small of her back.

He kissed her, shocked at the way her mouth opened to accept him, the way she returned the affection. She ought to hate him. At least if she hated him, he had a chance of resisting. He bit her bottom lip, gently.

"Remus," she said quietly.

"Mmm?" he asked, pressing his face to her cheek.

"We can't shag here in your hospital room. It's indecent."

He let out a low laugh -- amused, but frustrated. "Especially since I'm about to fall down anyhow," he answered, and she leaned back, steadying him, helping him up onto the bed.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Just remember," she said, tipping his chin up. "You've had your mistake. Better be on good behaviour now."

"I still want Snape dead."

"Well, I'll allow that. We could hire a hit wizard."

"I can't afford a hit wizard."

She smiled, and he closed his eyes, feeling her fingers on his chin, her thumb brush his lips.

"I want you to tell me," she said softly. He waited, unsure of what she meant. "Remus, you know it's true. Please," she added, and he heard a rare note of vulnerability in her voice.

His lips moved without the slightest involvement from his brain. "I love you, Dora," he said.

She kissed his forehead. "Good boy," she replied, against his skin.

***

The hardest part, as it turned out, was learning to use his left hand again.

The muscles hadn't healed clean, thanks to the Muggle hospital he'd spent three days unconscious in. It ached when he flattened his fingers, and the Healers said there was only so much they could do. Already they were teaching him to walk again, helping to fade the dark scar-skin on most of his wounds, still dusted with the blue healing powder. Helping make sure his right hand healed better than his left. The pain was fading, it was true.

He supposed he was lucky. In a Muggle hospital it would take weeks, months, for him to recover. In St. Mungo's it was a matter of days, sometimes even hours. That Harpy didn't come back, and instead Augustus Pye supervised his progress. Other Healers were brought in to see his wounds -- it was instructional, and a specialist in werewolf physiology even came in from Rome to study his progress.

And still, there was one even better thing: the Aurors would foot the bill.

The gnawing fear of debt, always present in the back of his head, faded a little when Kingsley informed him of that. Remus had shown them where a pack had lived, and led them -- however indirectly -- to a slaughter ground. They were grateful, and Jack Longbottom showed his gratitude freely.

Jack Longbottom also wanted to recruit him. Remus had been rejected from the Aurors years before, for his werewolf blood, and now had too much Order business to deal with to even consider training. He sent Longbottom a polite, subtextually bitter denial.

"We're almost there," Tonks said quietly, over the engine and the traffic noises. She was slightly overawed by the car that was taking them to Grimmauld Place; the Healers had said he shouldn't travel by floo or Apparation for a good two weeks, to be safe, and he heartily agreed. "Almost home."

"Home for me," he said, keeping his eyes closed. The cab was an unpleasantly jerky contrivance, and he felt less ill if he didn't look out the window. "Sad sort of place to call home."

"Not always," Tonks answered. Remus heard Arthur Weasley chuckle, from the seat across from him, and opened one eye lazily.

"You didn't have to come fetch me, you know, I'm not an invalid," he said, all evidence to the contrary. Even in the balmy summer day he was chilly, and while walking came easier, his breath didn't.

The cab jerked to a halt, and Arthur hesitantly paid the man; Remus kept an eye on the bills changing hands, to make sure he wasn't overpaying. Finally they were out; 12 Grimmauld Place came rushing up from nothingness, and he began the walk from the street to the front door, well aware of the ragged state of his clothing. Tonks had brought spares from his bureau, though he suspected the shirt was newly purchased -- he didn't think he owned any this nice.

A new shirt didn't hide the deep hollows in his cheeks and under his eyes, he was aware of that. He hoped he didn't frighten anyone.

Arthur opened the door and Tonks put a hand on the small of his back as he walked through, expecting the usual silent sitting room he always came home to at Grimmauld Place.

Instead, every couch and chair in the room was full, and people stood against the walls, and sat on chairs stolen from the dining room, benches taken from the yard. Nearly the entire Order must be there, he thought, automatically counting heads. Yes; the entire Order, plus Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione.

"A meeting?" he asked, confused. He turned to Tonks, who smiled and shook her head.

"Welcome home, Remus," Molly said, coming forward and hugging him, gingerly.

"Thank you, Molly," he said, bending into the hug, his voice sounding strange and alien even to himself.

"We thought about a real surprise party, but then mum said it'd kill you," said George, with a grin. "So. Surprise."

Remus' eyes swept the Order again. "For me?" he asked.

"We missed you," Arabella Figg said.

He looked around. "You do know it's my own damn fault?" he said. There was a ripple of laughter. Tonks leaned against his shoulder, affectionately.

"Not a bad place to call home," she said softly.

"Got marching orders for us, Lupin?" Mundungus Fletcher asked, with a sly grin. "Preferably involving food. And drink. Molly cooked an entire flock of turkeys."

"Two!" Molly said. "And they're small."

"That sounds good," Remus said slowly. "That sounds like a good plan."

The crowd began to drift into the kitchen, slowly, and Remus kept back, not wanting to fall into the mass of bodies just yet. Dumbledore caught his eye as he passed, and gestured him on.

"Molly's stuffing is really quite exquisite," he called. "She puts currants in it. Nothing I like better than currants in stuffing."

"Me either," Remus said, moving forward hesitantly. An idea was rising in the back of his head; in the way Dumbledore had looked at him when he'd walked in, in the way Harry had found his side and refused to leave it.

His legs were working better, but still stiff as he settled onto a bench in the kitchen, Harry on one side of him, Tonks on the other. The Weasleys and some of the more senior Order members sat around the table, and the rest of the Order on chairs nearby -- it seemed so large when he saw them all together, though in reality it was only perhaps thirty people, if that. Molly gave him a plate covered in turkey and stuffing, gravy, vegetables, and yorkshire puddings -- she knew he liked those especially. She must have been cooking for two days, he thought, eyeing the mountain of food before him.

He hadn't eaten well in the hospital, and suddenly he was ravenous...

He listened to the conversations go on around him: Harry discussing the motorbike still, and his plans to keep it in Hogsmeade; Kingsley and Tonks talking shop in low tones; Arthur discussing publicity with one of the newest Order recruits, a nervous young journalist for the Prophet. The lad had been able to keep Remus' name out of the papers, though not the slaughter of the pack; still, Remus was grateful for that small mercy.

"It is a dangerous way of working, but it is the only way," Dumbledore was saying to the journalist, solemnly. "If we wish to succeed, we must take risks."

"Although," Remus added, "There's a large difference between risks and stupidity." He held up his fingers, showing the jagged white scar across his palm where a wolf had tried to pull his right hand off. He saw Moody study it with interest; Molly winced, and Arthur put his arm around his wife's shoulders, looking away from the scar. "I crossed the line and I paid for it," Remus continued. "Let's not forget that. But I think..."

He glanced at Dumbledore. Dumbledore led the Order; it wasn't his place to decide these things, but it was his place to voice his opinion. Arthur and Molly were looking expectant. Dumbledore nodded, slowly. Remus swallowed, and continued, stammering over the first few words.

"I think it...I think it's time...that we started taking more risks," he said slowly. "I think it's time we ended this. No more playing at stopping the little things, no more skirmishes."

"Five on one isn't a skirmish, it's a slaughter," Harry murmured.

"I want to know what's been going on since the pack was destroyed," Remus continued. "We'll hold briefings tonight. And tomorrow..." he looked at Dumbledore again, but the older man was watching him intently. "Tomorrow we are going to start planning how to stop this once and for all. I want this done. I want him destroyed. Utterly and completely. I want him and his followers wiped off the face of this earth."

Snape, who had chosen a far corner and done little more than pick at his dinner, raised his head.

"Brave talk," he said.

"Either we're brave or we fail," Remus replied. "Which would you like, Severus?"

"Don't ask me about winning," Snape replied. "I've been waiting for someone to make up their mind about this for months."

"Then you'll be falling in behind the plan," Remus replied. "That's good. We'll need you."

"Best be sure I'm not just lying to you," Snape answered bitterly. "Best be sure I'm not going to feed this back to the Dark Lord."

There was an awkward pause. Remus glanced at Kingsley, and shook his head slowly.

"We are not discussing loyalty or lack thereof tonight," he said. "Tonight we are discussing what we know, and what we can use."

"Then I think you'd better look in the backyard first, after dinner," Arthur said. "Snape's got an experiment out there you ought to see."

***

Snape's experiment turned out to be an enormous cement birdbath, a spare car tyre, three garden gnomes, a large, broad metal washtub, and a tin Christmas-tree topper in the shape of an angel -- with a small, jaunty witch's hat cocked over her halo.

"Fred and George built it," Harry said, as Remus stared in awestruck horror at the monstrosity.

The bird-bath sat in the washtub, and the car tyre sat flat in the birdbath; the gnomes were clustered in a sort of pyramid of bad taste on top. The Christmas Witch was apparently somehow glued to the tips of their hats.

One of the garden gnomes was fishing off the end of the birdbath. Fred and George had tied a small Hogwarts pennant flag to its fishing pole.

"What on earth is it?" Remus asked. Arthur chuckled. Snape came forward, descending the porch steps to stand next to the thing. It was taller than he was.

"As horrifying as it is..." he growled, digging in his pocket for a black silk pouch, "...it serves its purpose."

He bent and drew a finger through the water filling the washtub. After a second, he sprinkled the powder into the water, and murmured a few words, stirring the surface with his wand.

There was a spark, and he stepped back quickly; the water began to pour -- upwards, over the bird-bath, the tyre, the gnomes and their Hogwarts pennant, and the tree-topper. It burst off the top of the Witch's hat, splashing back down over the entire thing. Other jets of water shot out from the noses of the gnomes, and the floral accents on the birdbath.

It was the most bizarre fountain Remus had ever seen. Snape regarded it with a mixture of pride and distaste.

"It's a Crinon," Remus said.

"As usual, your grasp of the obvious is truly remarkable," Snape answered.

"Severus has a theory," Tonks said softly. "Everywhere we've found traces of the Dark Lord -- "

" -- we've found Crinons," Snape finished for her. "I've been studying them while you've been...recuperating," he added, lip curling slightly. "They're tapping into the magic inherent in the area -- children born with magical ability, old artefacts, anything that might supply some form of power."

"How is that possible?"

"Dark Arts," Arthur muttered.

"The rest are probably hidden. The only times we've found them are when he's already moved on," Fred added. "He may even have a few in big magical centres -- nobody'd miss a little magic in Diagon Alley, if it wasn't taking too much."

"Funneling power back to him," Remus mused.

"A lot of power," George said. "We think."

Snape picked up a pinch of something from a bowl near the fountain, and tossed it against one of the gnomes. The water cascaded down into the washtub again, and, after a moment, was still.

"The trouble lies in finding out how he arranged for the fountains to work that way in the first place. They're not designed to," Snape said. "And, once we discover that, how to stop them."

Remus gestured to the now-defunct fountain. Snape shook his head.

"It won't be that easy," he said.

"Can you do it?"

"With time, and resources."

Remus nodded. "I'll make sure you have what you need."

Snape pointed to the twins. "They're not entirely untalented."

Fred and George grinned at each other.

"They're yours," Remus answered. The twins snorted in amusement.

Remus ducked back into the house, following Arthur and Molly. He could feel Tonks' hand on his shoulder, could hear Fred and George already bickering with Snape. Harry still hadn't left his side.

"Call everyone together," he said, in a low voice, to Tonks. "We'll hear everything tonight. Harry..."

Harry glanced up at him, and nodded. "Ron and Hermione and I'll go play gobstones or something," he said, only mildly sarcastically.

"I'll tell you later," Remus promised. He reached out and tousled Harry's hair -- good lord, the lad was almost as tall as he was, now.

"Doesn't matter," Harry said with a grin. "I could suck it right out of your brain if I had to."

Remus gave him a smile. "I wouldn't advise it. I'm still your guardian until you're eighteen. I could confiscate the motorbike, you know."

Harry just shook his head and broke off to bound up the stairs, followed by Ron and Hermione. Remus continued into the sitting room, finding his favourite chair and dropping into it. He ought to hide his exhaustion; it shouldn't tire a man his age to walk from the kitchen to the yard and back. Slowly the others filed in, including Dumbledore. Remus looked to him, and the Headmaster nodded.

"Now that we are all assembled," Dumbledore said, his voice firm and carrying, "I should like to know what is going on in the wide world outside Grimmauld Place."

Remus steepled his fingers and leaned forward. The scar on his arm throbbed.

Good. It would keep him awake.

He found Mundungus Fletcher, who was giving a report on rumoured Death Eaters among some smugglers off the coast of Scotland, and listened carefully, absorbing the information as he had since he was a child -- by listening, and watching, and asking questions.

***

It was midnight when Molly Weasley noticed, across the room, that Remus was asleep.

There were far fewer people there now, as Dumbledore had dismissed people after their reports were done. Remus had been leaning forward, listening intently, chin resting on his hands; he still was leaning forward, but she saw, past the shadows, that his eyes were closed. She nudged Dumbledore, seated nearby.

"Thank you, Schobel," Dumbledore said, smiling encouragingly at the young Prophet reporter. "I think you're the last of the night."

Schobel nodded and swallowed. "I'll just...floo then..." he stammered, nervously. The flare of flame from his hasty departure woke Remus, who tensed and straightened.

"Is that all of them?" he asked, blinking. Molly grinned.

"All for tonight. For you anyway," she said.

"I wasn't sleeping."

"Of course not."

"I wasn't," he insisted, eyelids drooping. Tonks stood, tugging on his right arm.

"You're not supposed to overextend yourself," she said, as he rose and rubbed his jaw sleepily.

"I hardly think sitting and listening is overextending," he answered sullenly. A yawn interrupted his complaint. "Tomorrow we should have a meeting...Snape and the Weasleys and Dumbledore and you and Kingsley and me, and..." he groped for more names.

"Arthur will take care of it," Molly said. "Get him to bed, Tonks."

"Hah..." Remus leaned on Tonks' shoulder, nuzzling her neck affectionately. "Bed indeed. Goo'night..."

Tonks guided him towards the stairs, up to the landing, and through his rooms, silently, supporting him when he stumbled on the stairs.

"Not that tired," he muttered, leaning against her as she reached out to unbutton his shirt. "I could've stayed up."

"Could you now?"

"Don't patronise me," Remus said, another yawn rather interrupting the drama of the statement.

"Don't act like a child," Tonks replied, fingers sliding down his shirt, deftly undoing the buttons. "I thought you were going to be on good behaviour."

"Am," he answered, pulling her close, pinning her hands against his chest. "Good behaviour. Being a leader. Planning things. Not thinking about anyone at all being a spy."

"Good," she answered, pushing gently. "But I think what you need now is sleep."

"A good hobby," he yawned, as she tugged his shirt off his shoulders. The phrase stopped her, and she looked at him, stunned and hurt. His lips curved upwards. "Guess I can give it up though...makes a better life, really, than a hobby."

She thought she saw, just for a second, a spark of amber in his brown eyes; she must have imagined it.

"Thinking of making a career of it?" she asked with a smile.

"Well. We'll see," he said, leaning in to kiss her. "Sleep, were you saying?"

"You should. You're exhausted. You don't look well."

"Thanks."

"You know what I meant."

"Mm. Want to stay? Here, I mean?" he asked. There was a sort of pleading in his eyes that she was shamefully glad to see.

"I think I might like that," she answered. "You go on. I'll be there in a second."

He nodded and began to remove his shoes, while she crossed the landing and leaned down the stairs.

"Molly," she called. "Think I'm needed?"

Molly's friendly face appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "I think not, Tonks," she called back. "We're just seeing everyone off."

"Going to make sure he doesn't fall asleep in a chair or something."

Molly grinned, slyly. "Good idea. Don't wear him out."

"Promise," Tonks replied with a likewise grin, the sort that struck terror into the hearts of men. "Night..."

"Night, Tonks," the reply drifted up, as Tonks moved back through the dark rooms. He'd managed to undress in the few minutes she'd been gone; he was curled up now, in the usual mess of sheets and blankets that his bed perpetually seemed to be. By the time she was ready to sleep, he was snoring softly.

"Man of my dreams," she sighed as she slid under the covers, curling up against him. His hands moved, covering her body, arms wrapping around hers. The movement was so automatic, and so instinctual, that she smiled.

"Got you," he mumbled, against her neck. "Can't get away now."

"I'm not the one who wanted to run," she answered softly.

"No," he said. "That was your fool of a boyfriend."

"He's dumb, but loveable."

"Love you, Dora," he muttered.

"I know," she answered, feeling his hand on her stomach. Her own covered it. She felt him sigh, and slip back into sleep. After a few minutes, her own eyes shut, though it was a long time before she truly slept.

***

Remus Lupin woke to an empty bed, and enough light slanting through the bedroom windows to tell him that he had slept far later than he'd intended; the clock on the wall said it was two in the afternoon.

"Bollocks, the meeting," he said with feeling, sliding out of the nest of blankets and stumbling towards the sitting room --

Which was full of people.

He blinked, realised that, in his boxers, he was wearing less than he had possibly ever worn in the presence of this many people, and stepped back into his bedroom, closing the door. After a second, he opened it a crack, and put his head through.

"You really aren't getting enough to eat," Molly said disapprovingly. "And you need a haircut."

"What are you doing in my sitting room?" he asked, trying not to think about being seen in his boxers by --

"Having a meeting," Dumbledore said, calmly. "Tonks suggested that this was a good way to keep an eye on you while we did so."

"Tonks, could I have a word in private?" he asked. She smiled and shook her head. Fred and George elbowed each other.

"Fine, just be a mo," he sighed, and shut the door again. He heard Arthur's low laughter as he fumbled for clothing, and gave his hair a despairing look in the mirror before deciding it wasn't worth trying to control it. When he emerged, squinting, into the sitting room, the talk seemed to be centred around Snape's experiments. Snape, he noticed, was not present.

"We were under orders to let you sleep," Tonks said, glancing at Molly.

"For fourteen hours?" he asked.

"You're still healing," Molly said, with the supremely unconcerned air of a woman who has raised seven children. "Sit down. We haven't managed anything useful since last night."

"Dumbledore seems to think you have a plan," Kingsley added.

"Does he now," Remus murmured, settling himself on the much-abused couch.

"You do have a plan, don't you?" Fred asked. "You sounded like you had a plan."

Remus examined the scar on his palm, thoughtfully. "Sort of," he said quietly. "More of a goal, really."

"Got anything to do with the fountains?" George asked.

"Yes...yes. We need to erm. Find them," Remus answered, slowly.

"That's your plan?"

"It's a step."

"How?"

"I don't know yet."

The twins looked pensive.

"It's not as though there's a big book in my bedroom on how to plot the downfall of the Dark Lord," Remus said shortly. "Do give a man five minutes to wake up."

"Got to write the book, don't you?" Arthur asked.

"Why've I got to do it?" Remus demanded.

"Well, you sort of locked yourself in after last night."

Remus rubbed his hands over his face, resting his chin in them eventually. "Right. Fine. All right...we have people in the Prophet, the Ministry, and we've got Snape in the organisation itself. Don't touch the two fountains we've found. Fred, George, I want you working with Snape to see if you can't track the other fountains through the first two. We need to know where they are. Ummm...Arthur, Kingsley, Tonks. Harry's told us who the big names are. Any of them we can find and track, we need to start doing so. Trip them up however we can. Keep tabs on the Malfoys, the Lestrange offshoots..."

Arthur smiled. "The usual suspects. Reports going back to you?"

"No, you and Molly handle that, and be checking in with Dumbledore. Gaps in the armor."

"Good as done."

"We need someone working with the Prophet to get as much trouble for the old families as possible. It shouldn't be hard to start aiming cameras at them, Muggles do it to their famous families all the time."

"What's going on in that devious head of yours?" Arthur asked.

"I'm not sure yet. Mostly the fact that I'm starving," Remus muttered.

"Suits you then," Arthur replied. "Makes you a bit keen, doesn't it?"

"I think a late lunch would do us all good," Dumbledore said, rising. "I believe there are leftovers still remaining..."

Harry and Hermione came in, flush from the outdoors, Harry with a smear of grease across his cheek, just as the others were trying to find enough bread for everyone to have sandwiches.

"Sorting out some engine things," Harry said, by way of explanation, washing his hands in the sink. "Ron's gone off to the Burrow, he says Mr. Weasley's got some books on motorcycle maintenance."

Molly looked at Arthur, who blushed.

"Got a library of books on Muggle mechanics," he said. "Came in dead handy with the car."

"Think I want to take the motorbike out this weekend," Harry continued, accepting a plate of food from Remus, who was scrounging some cheese for his own sandwich.

"Not a bad idea," the older man replied. "Nice short first flight, too."

Harry looked at him quizzically.

"Got to take you to get your books and that. For school," Remus reminded him. "Erm...if you want me to, anyway. Reckon you could go with Hermione and Ron..."

"Wait till Malfoy sees Harry's bike," Hermione said gleefully.

"You can come if you want," Harry said to Remus, shrugging elaborately.

"Got it!" Ron's voice echoed from the other room, and he stomped in, looking cheerful. "Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintenance!"

Hermione turned a laugh quickly into a cough.

"Ta, Ron," Harry said, taking the book.

"We were talking about going to Diagon Alley this weekend, to get your school things," Molly said, as Ron sat and began unconcernedly eating half of Harry's sandwich.

"Hey, you go to Knockturn Alley, don't you?" Harry asked, turning to Remus.

"Yes I do, and no, you can't come along." Remus looked up to see forty percent of the Weasley family staring at him. "Research books," he said. "Flourish and Blott's won't carry the really interesting sort."

"I like resear -- "

"No, Hermione, you can't come along either. Ron, don't even try."

Hermione very nearly pouted.

"We'll take you," Fred offered.

"You do and I'll bite you both," Remus said, without looking up from his sandwich.

"Joykill," Fred muttered.

"Yes, my attempts to keep Harry from meeting a painful, premature end could be interpreted that way."

"I don't like him when he's been fed," George said, to his twin.

"I'm all for not dying," Harry put in.

"Glad we're on the same page there, Harry," Remus said.

"I do need new robes," Harry continued. "And my cauldron's gone rusty."

"And you need a new coat," Tonks said, to Remus. "And there's some books I could pick up."

Remus shrugged. He did need a new coat; autumn was coming, and his old coat was losing its sleeves beyond his ability to repair them. On the other hand, that was money he didn't have...thank god James and Lily had left Harry something to live on. He would have starved before letting Harry go without, but he was glad he didn't have to.

"Diagon Alley it is, then," he said. "Saturday?"

"And I can take the motorbike?" Harry asked. "And meet you there?"

"If you're careful, and don't flash it about," Remus replied. "Arthur...?"

Arthur looked up. "Oh, technically it's all right. It's been licensed, I remember handling the paperwork, and there's a special transportation clause when it's for individual use..."

"As opposed to a trio of troublemakers abducting the Boy Who Lived from his family home in a flying car," Molly said sternly. The twins winced.

"I want you to be careful," Remus said. Harry nodded. "And don't do any tricks, it's not a broomstick."

"I won't."

"And you'll wear the helmet. And make sure you're ready with a good levitation spell if something fails. And I want you to -- "

Tonks put a calming hand on his arm, and Remus subsided.

"Didn't spend all this time making sure he didn't die only to have him crash the bloody thing," Remus muttered.

"Seems to me I recall you crashing it, once," Arthur said with a grin. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at him inquiringly.

"I didn't crash it. It was fine in a few days," Remus protested. "Sirius -- "

He stopped, abruptly.

"Well. It's Harry's now," he said finally. "And no riding it while you're in school," he added.

Harry rolled his eyes and agreed, before turning to Ron and Hermione to begin plotting his flight.

***

The afternoon, after there had been more talk and a report from Snape, was spent in enforced lassitude; summer was waning, but the sun was still out, and after a week inside a hospital room, Remus was more than happy to sit out on the back steps and watch Snape and the twins tinker with the fountain, while discussing strategy with Arthur.

"Dumbledore's trusting you with an awful lot," Arthur said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Do you think it's unwise?"

"No. Though I don't think it's good for you. It's a lot for one person to carry. Mentally, I mean."

"I'll be all right," Remus answered. "It's not like I'm not used to it."

"Do you think you can..." Arthur glanced at him. "Do you think you're..."

"Able? To carry it?"

Arthur nodded. "I'd be terrified, if it was me Dumbledore was putting this on," he said, looking away.

"You've given your pound of flesh," Remus shook his head. "Nobody's asking you to take on anything more, Arthur. Ye gods, if I had children..."

"You've got Harry."

"That's different."

"Is it?"

"Harry's in this whether he wants to be or not. You had a choice. So did Molly and your lads."

"No, we didn't."

Remus shot him a small smile. "No. Perhaps not. The true noble family of the Wizarding world."

"Toujours Weasley."

The pair of them laughed, quietly, as Tonks and Harry came down the steps. Tonks settled next to him, while Harry went to investigate what the twins were doing with one of the garden gnomes on the fountain.

"So what is the plan, if I can ask?" Arthur said, grinning at his boys.

"We kill Voldemort."

"That's a good plan," Tonks put in. "I'm behind it."

"When I visited...when I spoke with the pack's Alpha..." Remus said haltingly. He took a breath. "He said that there were wolves who had to battle with humans. In order to win, they had to become like humans. Thus, werewolves."

Tonks' thumb rubbed across the back of his hand, as she leaned on his arm.

"My ideals want to tell me that we can't be like them, that if the Order thinks like the Death Eaters, we don't deserve to win," Remus said softly. "And my blood and instinct is telling me that I would strangle Lucius Malfoy with my own hands before I'd let him touch Harry. So I'm going to make sure we can destroy the Crinons. All of them. At once. By the time we've found enough of them to make a dent, we'll have destroyed some of the bigger families. Some of them now are only sticking with the Dark Lord because they've got that bloody Mark. As long as he's got them Marked, he's got a grip on their minds and hearts. Destroy his power, destroy his people, and then..."

He looked out at Harry, who was laughing with George over a jet of water that had just hit Fred in the face.

"Then Harry is going to use what Severus Snape taught him," he said softly, "and he's going to go into the Dark Lord's head, because he's the only one who can...and twist."

Tonks shivered. Arthur looked pale.

"Why Harry?" Arthur asked.

"Because it's always been Harry. It'll always be Harry. It's what he was born for."

"That's hard on the boy," Arthur said slowly.

"I expect to die in the fight," Remus replied. "Harry's a survivor, he probably won't -- "

"Don't say that," Arthur said sharply.

"Nobody's going to die," Tonks added.

"In a perfect world," Remus answered, softly. Tonks pressed her face to his shoulder.

"Arthur, can we talk alone for a minute?" she asked. The older man smiled and nodded, and walked down the steps, his red hair turning copper in the light of the sunset.

"I don't want you to die," Tonks said, when he'd gone. Remus smiled.

"Well, I don't want to. And you know, I probably won't. But I'm something of a cynic."

"Not really? You?"

"Be nice," he chided. She smiled and picked up his right hand, spreading his fingers, running her own over the dark, jagged scar.

"I have something I need to tell you," she informed him. "I'm sorry Harry found out first, but he was in my head too, and he couldn't really help it."

He drew his eyebrows together, confused. She stood and faced him, standing on a low step, and raised his hand to press it flat against her stomach, low and centred.

"I found out...just a little while after they brought you in. Nobody knows but you and me, and Harry, and Healer Smethwyck," she said, holding his palm there.

"Found out..." he trailed off, eyes widening. "Found out?"

She nodded, her smile widening slightly. "Apparently it was Harry's birthday party. I'd like to think it's that, anyway."

"Think it's...but we..."

"You're going to be a daddy, Remus."

There was a slight pause.

"I can't even afford to feed myself," he blurted, finally.

"Well, fortunately, you will not have to be a single father," Tonks replied, grinning. "Besides, I can afford to feed myself, and a baby, and maybe even his papa, too. If papa doesn't decide he's got to die in some fool battle."

Remus closed his eyes, feeling the pads of his fingertips on her clothing, the smooth flat skin beneath. He should be overjoyed; instead there was just the fear. The fear that any child of his was going to be abnormal, unnatural...

"What if it's -- " he began, but she stopped him.

"Remus," she said softly. "What if he is? Will you love him any less?"

"No, of course not -- "

"Then let's not worry until we have to," she said. "I love Daddy. I will love baby too."

"Oh god..."

"Hey, that's what you said when we were making hi -- "

"Dora, that's not funny."

"It's very funny," she whispered, and he felt her lips brush his. Eyes closed, he hadn't even realised she had bent over. Her heart-shaped face was inches from his, her eyes searching his.

"I'm too old for you," he murmured, looking down.

"Doesn't matter," she replied.

"Do you not remember me running off to get chewed to bits by ferals?"

"Well, you won't do that again. and if you ever really screw up, we'll call Harry in to be peacemaker."

He gave in and let her kiss him, too tired to do more than kiss back, and stroke his fingers across her stomach.

"An April baby," he said, doing the math in his head, carefully. "Or early in May?"

"I love you more than is good for me," she replied. "Yes. A baby born in April. Or maybe May. A little boy."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do," she replied, nuzzling his cheek. "Harry told me so."

"My god, I love you," he murmured. "When did that happen?"

"You're just saying that cos you knocked me up," she answered. He laughed weakly and pulled her down to him. She curled against his shoulder again, his arm around her waist, fingers still stroking her stomach, gently.

"So you see," she said, against his sleeve, "You're not allowed to die. Battle or no."

He nodded. Next to him, she screwed up her face, and her hair changed from deep black to bright orange.

"Suits you," he said.

"Remus, you are not allowed to die," she repeated.

"Well, I'm not trying to."

"Aren't you?"

He glanced at her.

"Not anymore."

The sun slid behind a tree, and darkness began to encroach on the red sky. In the yard, Harry was earnestly explaining something to Arthur, while Snape listened in what looked almost like approval. The twins were flinging water at each other, and the gnomes grinned crookedly atop the birdbath.

"We're going to win, you know," Remus said quietly.

"I know."

"And I'm going to tell him."

"Harry?"

He shook his head.

"My son," he said, trying the words to see how they fit. "I'm going to tell my son what we did here."

Tonks snorted. "I wouldn't tell him everything we did here, Remus."

He laughed. "No. But he's going to know what we did for him. And for Harry, and Harry's children, if he has any, and all the rest of them. We're going to win. And after we do we're going to tell the stories. People should have stories."

"People should," she agreed, yawning. "Now. I think we ought to go inside and do something you can't ever tell your son about."

He smiled, and let himself be led into the house.

END