Trust me, with love there is hope

The wind rattled the thin windowpanes ominously, as if pounding on the glass for entry. They had been wary for a few days now, jumpy as hell, turning at the slightest rustle, shivering with the slightest chill.

Still, she could not understand. The secrecy of everything, the closed looks, the whispers; she did not see the point in keeping secrets (or in protection). Especially in the ones you love.

“You could have told me.� Her tone of voice still carried an accusation. “There was no need to hide everything, Remus.�

He could tell that she was hurt – yet what could he do? The betrayed look, the turn of her lips and the flush in her cheeks pained him. He winced, though he could not tell if it was from the guilt or the pain of his outer wound. Gingerly, he poked his bandages, grimacing more.

“Nymphadora,� he sighed. “You don’t understand. I couldn’t tell anyone – if the tiniest whisper of my true allegiance had gotten out, the other werewolves would have killed me. Without hesitation.� He refused to look at her, refused to meet her eye.

“As if they didn’t anyway!� she replied scathingly, standing up from her seat now. “Look at you Remus!� She gestured at his injuries – the scarred, overworked face, the bandages on his leg, on his arms that were still tinted pink in places where blood still soaked the fabric, after four whole days.

“They found you anyway Remus. They found you out – and you should know by now; this is what happens to spies sooner or later.� He could see tiny droplets of tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, and he longed to wipe them away.

“It was a mistake,� he said slowly, weighing his words. “Greyback was meant to be away that day. He wasn’t meant to see me reporting back to the Order. They’d told us all ages ago that none of the fires were being monitored – it was just too difficult a process to carry out.� He sighed and looked down at the ground. “They must have suspected me…how could I have been so foolish not to realise?�

She pushed her chair under the table, taking care to relish its loud, screechy scrape against the floor.

“Yes, Remus! You were foolish – how could you have been so bloody stupid?� Her voice was low and laced with tears. “What happened to the Remus Lupin that I used to know - the one who could think logically? What happened?�

She turned away and walked to the window, watching the wind tear at the trees outside. She thought about what to say, what she knew she had to say. She took her time, and for a moment there was silence. He stayed silent too, sensing the confrontation to come – fierce, intense love battling with loss and anger and pride.

A chill emanated from the cold glass, and her quick, warm breath fogged it slightly, emphasising the grime that lingered, brown-black especially at the frames. Inside her head, thoughts flourished, many possibilities clamouring to be said – and outside, oblivious people continued to pass in the streets, shielding themselves from nature with newspapers, spiky umbrellas and thick coats, knowing nothing of the invisible house in this ordinary street.

“Remus,� she said at last. “I – you…� She trailed off and started again.

“This past year has been one of the best in my life. Work has been harder than ever, but I felt that I could cope, and it was because of you. I don’t know what I would have done without you -� She gave a quick, soft laugh. “…without you here to keep me sane.�

He smiled, unsure what to say, so she carried on.

“It worried me, you know, when you left and disappeared for months on end. And I missed you.� She turned, her eyes still misty but carrying a fire that seemed wild and untamed.

“- and I missed you, too, Nymphador –“

“No.� She would not let him finish this time; she needed to say this, to have it out (and then perhaps things could go back to the way they were.)

“You didn’t write to me. Three months without a word, Remus! Three months!� She gestured wildly. “And yet you had a chance to contact Moody, and Arthur and Kingsley! I’m in the Order too – why the hell was I kept in the dark?�

“I’m sorry,� Remus gestured helplessly. He knew now that what he had done was probably not the best thing. But he tried the only excuse he could think plausible. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to be –“

“Hurt?� she said sourly. “I think you know perfectly well that I’m more hurt now than I could ever be. You know that, Remus. You know I hate being kept in the dark. It’s not for my own protection; it’s just a cowardly thing to do. Think of all the things that could have happened, all the things that have happened. What if the worst happened – what if, what if…� She took a deep breath, and continued recklessly. “You could have died and I wouldn’t have known how or what for.�

Her cheeks glistened as droplets of tears finally escaped from her eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to live with that. Now that I know what life is like – how much better life is with you, I wouldn’t be able to live with that. How could I? Knowing that I could have helped, I could have fought, if I knew where you were. If you had told me…�

In a few steps, Remus crossed the room and wrapped his arms round her protectively, in a fierce hug. “Don’t even think that. Please.� he murmured.

“But it might – one day-“

“No. I won’t allow it. Believe me, I won’t let you down like this again. I’m sorry.� He stroked her hair, which today was long down her back, and an angry red. “I won’t make you unhappy, like – remember, when - � He gestured wordlessly at her vivid hair, and they both understood.

Her hair was still red, reflecting her anger, her love and her despair. Yet both knew that should this continue – should things cease, it may well return to the lank, thin, mouse brown that had once lingered helplessly for months on end.

He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sweetness of her perfume and appreciating the feel of her warmth against his. He was lucky to be with her, he knew that and he could not bear to lose her. The war had made everything difficult for everyone; relationships everywhere were on a strain and many threads between the best of couples were threatening to snap. He was glad that theirs had retracted slightly; he was glad that they had made a decision to talk.

“I love you. I promise we’ll be okay. I promise we’ll make it through.�

Somewhere a clock was ticking, the minute hand slipping forwards to meet the hour. In streets outside, life continued as nature battered and raged at houses and trees. The wind knocked on the windows but inside the house it was silent.

Two people stood in an ordinary kitchen, feet planted on the cold floor, bodies emanating warmth as they clung to one another, relishing the time that they had together. They understood that time was precious, time was short but communication and love were essential. They held on tight, afraid to let go and not wishing to let go. (For tomorrow, or one day, there may be no one left to hold…)

But love is held in open arms, clasped hands and warm lips. Where there is love today, love will linger, and slip forwards to meet tomorrow. Where there is love, there is hope to be won.