49: Awakenings
I feel wrong.
Hollow.
It was the only way he could define it. There was an absence, an emptiness that echoed like a chasm within him, something missing, something gone and lost forever more. He struggled desperately to focus, to think, to remember and pin down the void inside but his memories seemed vague, unfocussed, spewing out detached, almost dream-like images of himself in hospital over and over and over. And he was not alone there; Albus Dumbledore smiled at him softly, Felisha laughed, James (James? ) with Harry’s eyes (or was it Harry with James’ face? ) and then Dad waved a beetle at him and smiled inexplicably as his son reached the conclusion that either he or his father had finally gone mad…
But somehow, these memories didn’t seem to matter. It was what had come before…
The Institute.
Peter.
Dementor.
Slimy hands gripping his face, lifting his weak and helpless body, the parting maw closing down upon him like a vast, inescapable abyss, and terror, such terror as he had never felt before…
“Imperio!”
Her voice. No, Tonks, no, no, n…
Happiness. A vague, hazy detachment flooded through him, swamping his mind, swallowing his conscious thoughts in one soft gulp. He could feel something else, something hard-edged, vicious and triumphant roar within him, roar past him to a surface unreachable to him now but he could not fight it, could not stop it, could not do anything but drift, drift, drift…
And then the quiet world tore apart.
A rip. A tear. A terrible wrench against his mind, pain such as he had never known rampaging through body and soul as he felt himself, shake and shudder, hands clutching at his face, fingers raking at his hair as he battled to surface from the gaping abyss that had opened up within him…
Hollow.
Alone. Horribly, terribly alone, alone and empty as he had never been before, falling, tumbling, his mind screaming as his memories twisted, contorted and in places tore away, leaving absence, pieces, strange coldness and a nothing, an unbearable empty, empty nothing…
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, too quick, too cold, too much…
And then… And then… And then…
“Remus! Remus!”
Dad?
His eyes snapped open.
Lost in the swell of memories, he had not felt himself sit up, not felt his own fingers as they pressed into his cheeks, grasping at the fading scars left by the Dementor’s soulless Kiss. He had not even felt his father’s hands against his back or Rebekah Goldstein’s fingers as they grabbed his shoulders and shook him viciously awake.
Rebekah!
She hated him! She was running the Institute, planning to Kiss the souls of the Residents away, she was…
A memory, ragged, damaged, torn and dream-like, tugged at the back of his mind. Dolph Greymoor, the Imperius curse, Rebekah under his control…
Did I dream that? Was it real? Was it…?
“Remus? Son?”
A gentle hand closed around his own, drawing it away from his face. Remus looked up into his father’s concerned eyes.
“Remus,” he repeated softly, with a hint of a gentle smile. “It’s all right.”
No it isn’t, it isn’t, it really isn’t…
It was difficult to breathe, to focus, to think, the horrifying image of a Dementor’s looming mouth twisting over and over through his mind. It had Kissed him. He had felt those awful hands grasp him, felt the deathly chill as it sucked at his soul and tried to consume all that he was. But how could he still be talking, how could he still be here when…?
What in the name of Merlin had happened to him?
He struggled to articulate. “I remember… being Kissed and being in hospital, more than once and feeling strange and… and not remembering everything but I didn’t understand what was happening and I don’t…” He shuddered, his eyes rising to fix upon his father’s face with an almost desperate plea. “Dad, I’m so confused.”
His father smiled and almost instinctively, an old, child-like surge of reassurance rippled through his veins. He could always depend on his dad.
“I know you’re confused, Remus,” he said softly. “And I know this must be terribly strange for you.” He glanced once at Rebekah, who nodded solemnly. “But if you just calm down, I’ll do my best to explain. Do you remember why I had to Obliviate you the night that you were first bitten?”
A memory surfaced, his father’s tired face in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, relating a family secret hitherto not revealed. Remus nodded wearily. “My mind… it couldn’t take the trauma of what had happened.”
Reynard clasped his son’s hand once more. “You remember being Kissed?” Remus’ shudder was answer enough. “Well, son, the same sort of thing happened again. Except this time your mind reset itself. To infancy.”
“To…what?” For a moment, Remus could only stare. But then suddenly the earlier images surged back in a rush, his father grey-haired before his time, James and Harry mixed together, Felisha babbling about aging solution…
“Infancy?” he repeated incredulously.
His father nodded solemnly once more. “But we brought you back up to date using Memory Enhancing Potion “ three years a day for eleven days. And speaking of which, here.” Remus had not even realised his father had risen until the older man pressed a small glass of water into his hands. “I know that Memory Enhancer isn’t the nicest tasting thing in the world and you’ve been taking a lot of it recently. Drink this down.”
In all honestly, Remus hadn’t even noticed the strange taste in his mouth “ he’d had a few other things on his mind. Tentatively, he took a gentle sip and then paused, staring into the shifting, refracting depths of the water as his thoughts slowly settled down. His mind felt not dissimilar to a Swiss cheese that had been dragged against a grater, his memories of the events of the previous night (had it been the previous night? It felt like it but yet his dad had said eleven days had passed him by…) oddly distorted, vivid images of running through the darkness in his lupine form tangled in with formless, shifting recollections of roaming the corridors as a human being.
That’s not right. That can’t be right…
“Remus?” The soft touch against his shoulder was Rebekah’s. Her gaze was filled with compassion.
Compassion? Rebekah? And since when has she called me…?
Imperius curse.
“You were under the Imperius curse.” The words escaped his lips unbidden. “Weren’t you?”
Rebekah nodded slowly. “I was. As were you. And that’s the only reason you’re still here talking to me.”
What?
Remus shook his head, groggy, sluggish thoughts surfacing to prod at his brain and negate his cousin’s ridiculous statement. “No,” he murmured at once. “No, that’s not right. You can’t cast the Imperius curse on a were…”
“Imperio!”
His memory roared. The world froze.
The glass was gone from his fingers; he heard his father gasp, saw Rebekah start backwards, felt the sudden spread of damp coldness across the sheets around his legs, but he did not jerk away, did not even care as his mind fixed intensely on one thought and one alone.
Tonks.
It had not registered. He had not realised.
She’d remembered. She’d put his mind to sleep.
She’d protected him. She’d saved his soul.
By casting the Imperius curse on a werewolf.
Oh no. Oh, sweet Merlin, no!
“Remus!” His father’s voice, scything into his careering thoughts. “Remus, what’s wrong?”
“Tonks!” Flinging the wet sheets aside, Remus hauled himself out of bed and leapt to his feet, ignoring as best he could the screaming protests of his freshly healed and over-rested limbs. He felt Rebekah try to grasp his arm, to usher him back to bed, but absently he brushed her aside. “Dad, where’s Tonks? What happened to her, where is she?”
And his father’s face went pale.
Oh please no…
“Is she dead?” The words seemed to chill the air they touched against with impossible despair. Not that, please, not that, I can’t lose her, I can’t lose her when I haven’t even told her…
But his father, blessed be, was shaking his head. “Not as far as I know,” he offered quietly. “They took her up to the Spell Damage floor, a private room near the Janus Thickey ward. She’s alive but she’s been unconscious ever since. But Remus…” His tone sent his son’s brief wave of hope plummeting down the abyss. “I think something may have happened. About an hour ago, one of the apprentices came down here in a fluster looking for Healer Jones. I tried to find out what was going on but I wasn’t able to… Remus!”
But Remus was no longer listening.
For he was already moving, barely aware of his father’s cries, of Rebekah’s hands as he slapped them aside, knowing only that he had to go, had to move, had to find her, had to tell her…
And then he was in the corridor. People stared at him, brief glimpses of shocked faces as he hurtled and lurched his way passed them, hospital robes flapping, bare feet pounding against the cold floor, but he did not notice, did not care, his only thoughts fixed upon a heart-shaped face and the casting of a deadly spell. He found the stairs and threw himself up them, ignoring the frantic beating of his heart, the agonies that pumped through his fragile body at such rapid motion, the rasp of his breath against his throat. By the time he crested the top of the second flight, he was all but staggering and voices from below were drifting into his consciousness, Rebekah, his father, calling his name. But he did not stop. He could not.
With a surge, he pushed the doors to the Spell Damage wards aside, eyes darting, searching for some hint, some clue as to where she was. His gaze alighted on the sign over a nearby doorway.
Janus Thickey Ward. Long Term Residents. .
And then, just beyond, a small door, a private room. And written on the board outside in vivid lime green letters one initial and one word…
N Tonks.
Remus didn’t even hesitate. Rushing forward, he grasped the door handle and pushed his way into the room.
And there she was.
He had never seen her quite so pale. Even after the Death Eater attack, the blood loss she had suffered, he was certain she had never been so utterly washed out, her cheeks hollowed, her eyes closed, her dull, mousy brown hair spread out like a halo across the pillow where she lay. Her breath was slow and steady, a soft rise and fall that rippled the sheets that shrouded her.
Other than that, she was still.
Tonks. Oh Gods, what have you done? What have I done?
“Remus?”
He recognised the voice as Rebekah’s. But he did not turn.
“Could I… have a moment with her?” The words were barely a whisper, his voice hoarse as his fingers grasped the doorframe in the sudden necessity of keeping him upright. Adrenalin, it seemed, could only get a person so far. “Please?”
There was a brief moment of silence. He could almost taste the doubt in the air.
“Remus.” The touch on his shoulder was gentle. Pulling his eyes away from Tonks for an instant, Remus found himself staring at into his cousin’s eyes once more.
“Here.” Something thin and hard was pressed into his hand; glancing down Remus found himself staring at his father’s sturdy cane. A ghost of a smile flitted across Rebekah’s face. “Uncle Reynard didn’t fancy taking the stairs at such a pace,” she informed him quietly. “He’s heading for the lift. But he thought you might need this more than he does.”
Remus smiled softly in return. “Thank you.”
And then, leaning heavily against the cane as his body screeched in protest, Remus stepped inside. He heard the door close softly behind him.
For a moment longer he stared at her, the rise and fall of her chest, her pale face, her hidden eyes. Love, painful and bitter, surged with his chest.
Stupid, stupid girl. There’s no doubt about it, fate has a sick sense of humour. Why me? Why you? They say love makes the world go around but look at where it’s gotten us…
And then awkwardly, he lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, propping his father’s cane up against the bedside table as he reached out and tentatively enfolded her hand within his own.
“Tonks,” he whispered. “You idiot. You stupid, wonderful idiot.”
His grip on her hand tightened possessively, the echo of her pulse vibrating against the skin of his fingers. But she did not stir.
“How could you do that?” The words began to tumble more freely now. “How could you do this to yourself? For what? For me?” He shook his head slowly. “It wasn’t worth it, Tonks. How could I ever be worth this?” Gently, he began to rub his thumb in soft circles across her knuckles. “Your life, your young life… You had so much ahead of you, so much to do, to see, to feel. And you risk it all for an old werewolf who’s half-stuck in the past? Stupid.”
Absently, almost instinctively, his right hand rose, reached forwards and stroked two soft fingers down the length of her cheek. His voice, when it came, was hushed, reverent, despairing, a tangle of emotions that refused to come apart.
“Why the hell do I love you so much?” he whispered hoarsely.
Gently, he squeezed her hand.
And then, she squeezed back.
“Well, that’s flattering.”
Remus froze. His eyes fixed upon her now parted lips and their soft, but humour-filled curl, upon the gentle beat of her eyelids as they stuttered open, upon the sudden grip of her warm fingers against his. And then, she smiled.
“As soon as we get out of here,” she murmured, her voice a sleepy rasp. “I’m sending you to charm school. Is that the best deathbed despair that you can manage? Insults and self-blame?” Unsteadily, her free hand rose and poked him weakly in the arm. “Next time, I expect compliments, Lupin, and lots of them. Honestly.”
Stunned paralysis slipped into shocked disbelief.
“Tonks?”
Her still-sleepy dark eyes twinkled. “No, it’s the Tooth Fairy. I got knocked for six by this moody troll who really wanted to keep his molars and now I have the body of an injured Auror until I can get my wings fixed.” A second weak poke followed the first. “Of course it’s Tonks. Who were you expecting, the Queen Guinevere of Camelot? Remus, are you sure they fixed your brain up right because you’re sounding alarmingly like a six year old right now…”
In Remus’ still shocked and addled mind, it took several instants for her words to sink in. “Wait, what?” he exclaimed sharply. “How did you know about…?” His eyes widened suddenly. “How long have you been awake?”
Tonks emitted a weary chuckle. “A couple of hours. I gave Hestia and poor Mum the fright of their lives when I first came round; apparently I sat bolt upright, stared around with golden eyes and grew feral fangs!” At the look of horror that had crossed his face unbidden, she wrinkled her nose at him. “Oh, calm down! Hestia reckons it was some kind of backlash from the spell and because I’m a Metamorphmagus…well…” She shrugged slightly. “Don’t worry, there’s no permanent damage. But anyway, once I was properly awake, my first questions were about you so I know what’s been going on. If my legs had been up to it, I’d have been down to see you long ago.”
Suspicion was carving a niche in Remus’ thoughts. “Were you awake when I came in?”
Tonks pursed her lips. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“I was just dropping off again when I heard your voice.” Tonks smiled as she wiggled her shoulders awkwardly against her pillow. “And that perked me right up.”
“Then why didn’t you say something?” Shock was settling into a potent cocktail of utter relief and outright indignation. “I thought you were dying! You let me pour my heart out…” He flushed suddenly. I said I loved her. She heard me say that I was in love with her. Oh Sweet Merlin…
Poke number three jerked him out of his horrified reverie. “Well, it was hardly a promising beginning,” she declared, seemingly livelier now she had shaken away the last vestiges of sleep. “You called me a stupid idiot. So I decided to keep my eyes closed to see if it got any better…”
The flush was spreading, unchecked, uncheckable. She heard me say it. After all I said in Rebekah’s office, after pushing her away and making it clear… I am an idiot. Oh, this is going to be so much trouble…
An odd surge of deja-vous rippled through his mind. Just for an instant he caught a glimpse of Tonks’ furious face in a ruined room, of her arms wrapping around him, the touch of her lips against his…
What?
His memories of that long, long night, tainted by the rise of the wolf; so much of that night was so vague.
But those lips…
They felt so real.
A warm, thrilling horror welled up within his chest.
Did I kiss her? Did I kiss Nymphadora Tonks?
Tonks’ voice cut across his reverie. “Remus? Are you okay?”
He stared at her. Stared at the pale, heart-shaped face, the dark, deep searching eyes, the scrunch of her nose and knew, oh so clearly, that he loved her. But had he…? Had they…?
The question blurted out almost before he had time to think it through. “Have we kissed?”
The silence was echoing.
Tonks’ fingers grasped his hand like the limbs of a vice. Her shoulders tensed like rock.
And her eyes…
Her eyes were dangerous.
Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe it was a fantasy, maybe I’ve offended her…
“You don’t remember?”
The tone of her voice stung him like a whiplash, shock, disbelief, pain and hurt all woven together by flickers of anger into a lethal weapon. Her head was shaking slowly, back and forth, back and forth, her eyes wounded, her features stunned. Her gaze burned against his skin like fire.
But a new thought was blazing a trail through his mind, thoughts of another kiss, of consequences he had barely considered in the heat of his fear and confusion.
I was Kissed by a Dementor. But the Imperius Curse was cast, I was asleep and safe. But my wolf…
The hollowness. The vagueness of his memory in times stained by a feral touch, the loss of any recollection of full moon nights with his friends…
It had barely registered until now. He had been so caught up in his confusion and his deep concern for Tonks that the truth behind what had happened to him had not triggered in his mind. But now, there it was, stark and clear and staring him full in the face.
The wolf was gone.
For a moment, the thought would not solidify. No, there was no way, that couldn’t be…
But it was.
The hollowness, the absence he felt inside, the void in his memories… That lurking presence, that malevolent sense of something watching, waiting for one crack, one weakness, once chance to surge in and rip his mind asunder…
It was gone.
He was still a werewolf. Come the next full moon, his body would twist and change and transform just as it always had. Nothing, not even a Dementor’s Kiss, could take that fact of his life away. But his mind…
His mind was his own. And from that moment on, it always would be.
Even under the full moon.
He was still a werewolf. But his mind was free…
“It’s gone.” The words had passed his lips before he was even aware of speaking, soft, quiet, barely audible. “The wolf. It’s gone.”
“Remus?” Tonks’ eyes, dark and confused, staring at him with a mixture of bewilderment and distress, but he struggled to right himself, struggled to think clearly against the fact that a fundamental truth of his life had been wiped away forever. He heard her voice ripple against his ears, but somehow she sounded so very far away.
“I know,” she whispered softly, fingertips skimming briefly, fleetingly across his face. “They told me. And you wouldn’t believe how happy it made me, how happy I was for you… But…” Her voice broke off, suddenly edged with shimmering fear. “I didn’t think it would mean… Don’t you remember the talk we had, everything we decided? Don’t you remember our kiss?”
“Barely.” Half lost in shock, not concentrating, the word had slipped out before Remus could catch it. It was a mistake.
“Barely?” Her voice echoed his but with lashings of fresh pain as she pulled herself unsteadily up to rest against her headboard. “How can you not…? Remus please, we…”
The distress in her tone snapped Remus harshly back into reality. His hands closed around hers once more, desperate to stem the tide of hurt before it flooded her entirely.
“Don’t you understand?” he exclaimed, battling to keep down the surge of numb disbelief and sudden, shuddering joy that screamed to be let free. “It’s gone, Tonks! Your curse, it worked! When the Dementor Kissed me, it swallowed down my werewolf soul! That’s why I can’t remember my full moon nights! And you must remember how badly I was being affected by the wolf that night; there were so many other werewolves nearby, not to mention the feral Dementor…It’s good that I can’t remember, it means…”
“I kissed your wolf.” Tonks’ hurt was spilling into sudden anger, cutting away his enthusiasm with a sudden surge of pain. “Is that what you’re saying? That it wasn’t you, it was him and you never meant for it to happen…”
“No, Tonks, I…”
“You’re going to make excuses now, aren’t you?” Her voice was suddenly shaking though whether it was fury or pain that had unbalanced it, Remus could not be certain. “You’re going to trot out all those things we talked about and hide behind them all over again because you can’t remember what we sorted out! We fixed this, Remus! You agreed! You said you weren’t going to push me away anymore…” She took a deep, gasping breath, then another and then again. “I’m not going to let you do it,” she declared, her eyes a raging storm but crested by waves of a strange kind of terror. “If I have to throw you into a Pensieve and make you watch what you said, I will! But I can’t go through this again, Remus! I can’t go through…”
Her voice trailed away. Tears, of despair, of exhaustion, were welling in the corners of her eyes.
And Remus knew what he had to do.
Vague images of her voice demanding answers, of her touch, of her kiss danced within his mind. He had no doubt she was telling the truth. And they truly had reached an agreement, if he truly had exorcised his demons and allowed himself to…
And now he was free, free of the burden of wolfish influence that had weighed down upon his life for thirty-four years. She had set him free.
He loved her. He had almost lost her. But now they were together.
Did anything else really matter?
Gently, tentatively, he reached forwards once more, catching her chin and cupping it softly between his fingers. Her glistening eyes rose to meet his.
And he kissed her.
He felt her hand creep into his hair as her body relaxed into his arms, her lips pressing, exploring and then deepening their tender touch into passion. He could feel it as the tension, the pain, the fury melted out of her like ice in summer sunlight.
And the world faded into nothing but her.
It was some time before he knew anything else.
But at length, her lips were gone. There was one last touch, one last taste, a brief dart forward for a final kiss and then her forehead touched against his, her breath a rasp against his ears. When his eyes slipped open, her softly smiling face filled his vision.
“Remember now?” she breathed quietly.
He smiled. “I think something may be coming back.”
Her lips brushed tantalisingly against the corner of his mouth. “Do you need some more reminding?”
In spite of the wonderful warmth surging though his body, Remus forced himself to focus. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“Shouldn’t you?”
“I wasn’t in a coma.”
“I wasn’t in infancy.”
“That makes me well rested. I was sent to bed at six.”
Tonks snorted. “Prat.”
Remus laughed quietly. “Guilty as charged.” Softly, tenderly, he stroked his finger down her still pale cheek. “I’d like to see that Pensieve, when you’re ready. I want to remember.”
Tonks smiled once more. “I’ll help you, Remus. I’ll help you to remember who you are and what you’ve done and I know your dad will too.” Her lips brushed all too briefly over his. “Trust the people who know you best. Trust the people who love you.”
He smiled, smiled with happiness, with contentment and safe in knowledge that all was now right in his world.
“I will,” he said softly. “And I do.”
I love her. And I’m free…
Then, slowly at first, tentatively, but with swelling passion, her lips pressed against his once more. Her arms rose, snaking around his shoulder; he felt his own hands slide softly around her waist. But then the kiss deepened and yet again the world melted away.
“If she’s awake, I’ll just check her…ah. I… oh… ummm…right…”
Lost in their kiss, he had not heard the door open, had not heard brisk footsteps as someone entered the room and broke into their moment. But at the awkward exclamation, Tonks’ lips pulled away from his, her cheek sliding across his as she leaned forward and dropped her chin against his shoulder, arms tightening across his back. As his head half-turned, he saw that she was grinning.
“Wotcher Hestia,” she greeted cheerfully. “Hi Mum, hi Dad. As you can see, I’m awake.”
Her parents. Her parents have entered the room. I was kissing “ no, emphatically kissing their daughter and they’ve just…
Tense, unsure and really rather embarrassed, Remus half made to pull out of the embrace but Tonks’ abruptly locked arms forbade the motion. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught sight of a dark-haired lady and a mousey-haired man standing behind Hestia Jones. Both bore distinct resemblances to the young woman wound within his arms
Andromeda Tonks looked rather bewildered, although the light of understanding was dawning noticeably within her eyes. At her side, Ted Tonks was grinning broadly.
However, it was the silver-haired man being supported carefully by his now smiling cousin Rebekah that really got Remus’ attention.
Reynard Lupin caught his son’s eye. He smiled, softly, joyfully, but with a whisper of nostalgia.
“Ah,” he remarked quietly. “I see.”
Hestia however, still appeared rather flustered at having caught a pair of her Order colleagues locked in a passionate embrace.
“So…” she managed. “You two are…I mean…” She pulled a face at her own inability to articulate. “How long have you two been…together?”
Tonks grinned against Remus’ cheek. “Officially? What do you reckon, Remus? About thirty seconds?”
Remus paused in pretend thought. “Thirty-five, I’d say. Maybe even forty or fifty.”
“And unofficially…” Remus fought to concentrate on the matter in hand as Tonks’ fingertips traced intricate little circles down his spine, her playful tone of voice implying that she knew exactly what she was doing to his blood pressure, “…well, it’s hard to say for sure, since I’ve been in a coma and Remus has been reliving his childhood. But one thing I do know…” One finger rose and stroked sensitively at the fading red mark upon his cheek. “That Dementor may have done its best to kiss his brains out, but I got in there first.”
The blush was utterly inescapable. Remus just couldn’t help himself.
Catching sight of the reddening of his cheeks, Tonks rolled her eyes distinctly. “Oh, in the name of pity, Remus, will you just relax? My parents aren’t going to bite. Dad, are you planning on beating the love of my life down into a shiny stain on the floor?”
Ted Tonks’ grin broadened. “Not unless you ask me to, sweetheart.”
Grasping his shoulders deliberately, Tonks began to kneed her fingers into the knots of tension that Remus had barely noticed gathering. “And Mum, were you planning to scream and shout and throw things because he’s so terribly unsuitable?”
“Nymphadora.” Remus felt Tonks wince vividly against him at Andromeda’s use of her dreaded first name. “Is this why you were willing to risk your life? Because you love this man?”
Tonks’ fingers stilled, her face abruptly serious. “Yes Mum,” she said with surprisingly solemnity, her dark eyes flicking from her mother to Remus but holding the same sincere gaze. “I love him.” The corner of one lip curled slightly. “Whether the prat likes it or not.”
Remus could feel his own smile growing and spreading as sudden joy bubbled within his heart once more. “The prat likes it. Very much.”
He heard Andromeda laugh, a light tinkling sound. “Then I’m delighted.”
“And if you were going to look to me for protest.” Reynard’s voice drifted out from his resting place beside the door. “My son at least should know better. I’m very happy for you. And it’s about time.”
He could feel her arms slipping around him once more, feel the soft whisper of her breath against his cheek.
“There, you see?” she murmured playfully. “I don’t mind. My parents don’t mind. Your Dad doesn’t mind. You have no objections left.”
His eyes met hers, catching her gaze and locking it still with his own. “Whoever said I was planning on objecting?”
Reality was fading around him as once more the woman he loved became his world. He leaned forwards…
“Well then.” His father’s voice skimmed across the edge of his consciousness. “Does anyone else get the feeling that our children would like some privacy?”
There were distant mutterings, the shuffling of feet, the sound of the door pulling close.
But Remus wasn’t listening. Because he didn’t care.
His lips touched Tonks’ once more. Happiness engulfed him, body and newly freed soul.
For at long, long last, all was right within his world.