A New Definition of Family
Chapter 13: Opportunities
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own any of JK Rowling’s characters or any portion of the Harry Potter universe. Which is really too bad, as I just love to frolic in that world and play with her wonderful characters! Speaking of which, any characters, places, situations or whatnot that you don’t find in her fabulous books, well they are mine. And I don’t own Guinness. Don’t even really like the nasty stuff…but some of my friends do, so it’s been included for them.
Author note: One of these days I will need to include some Dr. Pepper or some Three Buck Chuck in honor of my fabulous beta, Lorett… (sits and contemplates how to work those into the story) but in the meantime, I’ll just say that she is the best ever! I love you, dear! MWAP!
A small glow in the living room caught Molly Weasley’s eye as she was turning off all the lights. Harry was there, curled up on the couch, brooding over the picture album again. Molly sighed; she’d thought she was the last one to bed. “All right, Harry? Couldn’t you sleep?” She went to sit next to him.
Harry shook his head. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“Oh, you’re hardly doing that!” Molly smiled. “Now, setting off confetti bombs in the hallway, or filching cookies from the kitchen, or playing that game you and Hermione taught everyone today with the brooms here in the living room in your stocking feet…”
“Broom Hockey,” Harry supplied helpfully, an apologetic look on his face.
“Ah, yes, ‘Broom Hockey.’ Playing Broom Hockey and breaking the picture glass in the portrait of Otto Percival Weasley… now those are things that disturb me. Not quietly laying about and moping,” Molly informed him.
“I’m not…” Harry began in protest, but suddenly didn’t have the heart to continue.
Molly looked at him kindly. “Do you want to talk about it, luv?”
For years, Harry had dreamed of having a motherly person in his life who would say things to him just like that, in just that same tone of voice, who, just as he sensed Mrs. Weasley was willing to do, would take him in her protective loving arms and comfort him. He would have been embarrassed to admit it to anyone, even this kind woman who was that mother-figure to him. And there was the rub: even though he appreciated the maternal concern and kindness that Mrs. Weasley had unconditionally given him, he found himself inexplicably wishing that it was the red-headed woman in the pictures on his lap that was offering it to him. Which made absolutely no sense whatsoever, since the primary feeling he had toward Rinna lately was one of being rather hacked off at her.
Harry shrugged. “Not really,” he said.
Molly heaved a sigh. “All right. But if you change your mind…” She gently ruffled his hair as she stood up from the couch.
“Thanks,” he said sincerely, not minding the touch very much at all.
The next afternoon found Harry sitting, his back against the big tree, with the photo album once again on his lap. That morning, after finding him asleep on the couch with it, Ginny had told him outright that he was getting unnervingly attached to it. Hermione and Ron didn’t say it out loud, but he suspected they thought along the same lines as Ginny. But it really was helping him feel closer to his mum and dad, even if more often than not, he found himself drifting into the section of pictures that were almost exclusively of Rinna and Sirius, wishing that things were different.
A movement in the woods beyond the yard caught his eye: a dark shape, darting among the bushes. Harry closed the scrapbook with a snap, his heart thudding suddenly in his chest, and he moved to the side gate. He stepped into the woods and called softly, “Snuffles?”
He was answered by a low yip, and a shaggy black head came into view from under a bush, tongue lolling in a doggy grin. Harry stepped around the bush and smiled as Snuffles pounced forward onto his front paws in a playful gesture before turning and romping deeper into the woods. When Harry did not follow quickly enough, the large black dog repeated the action with a sharp yap, and spun around again, looking over his shoulder to see if Harry was moving.
“All right,” Harry laughed, “I’m coming, but we can’t go too far…” The dog stopped when they were out of eyesight, but not earshot, of the house, and sat with his tail thumping happily as he waited for Harry to catch up. Harry approached him, wondering how he could have ever found this huge black pooch menacing or intimidating. He had to suppress the urge to grab up a stick and throw it with a “Fetch, boy!”
The next instant, Snuffles had changed into Sirius and Harry found himself in an embrace, being thumped heartily on his back. Harry stepped back and grinned. “Sirius, you look a lot better!” he noted.
“Well, I’ve had a few meals and some decent rest. It makes a big difference.” The two of them found an old log to sit on.
Harry looked him up and down. “Are you okay?”
“Absolutely,” Sirius answered with a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, well, it’s just that…” Harry paused, a little embarrassed, “the other day, Rinna sounded like she was ready to hex you into oblivion…”
“Ah, that.” Sirius looked thoughtful. “I didn’t realize you were there for that.” He sighed. “Well, you’ve certainly had the chance to see the two of us at our best, haven’t you?” he asked dryly. Harry shrugged. “No, there was no hexing involved, I’m happy to say.”
“What is her problem, anyway?” Harry asked petulantly.
Sirius studied Harry for a moment, weighing what the appropriate answer should be. He came up with, “It’s complicated, Harry.”
“That’s exactly what she said about you,” was his disgruntled reply.
Sirius chuckled ruefully. “That pretty much accurately sums us up, I think: complicated.”
“Then why were you ever together?” Harry wondered.
Sirius pensively considered Harry’s question. “There is no logical explanation I can give you,” he said at last. “There were a lot of factors that should have kept us from ever getting together… not the least of which was that when we met, we didn’t like each other much at all…” Harry thought about what Rinna had told him about moving up into the next Year’s Potions class and pictured what Sirius’ reaction to her might have been.
“But,” Sirius continued, “in spite of our differences, we slowly discovered we were more alike than we realized.” He saw the question in Harry’s eyes. “For one thing, we both came from old wizarding families”“
“Pure-bloods,” Harry said flatly.
Sirius gave him an inscrutable look. “Yes, Pure-bloods, although the Dunlevy name wasn’t nearly so well-known as mine. Still, she understood the pressure there is to live up to expectations.” He sighed. “We both had abusive fathers.” Harry’s head jerked up at that. “Actually, her father was a monster.” Sirius’ mouth had formed a thin, hard line. “Fortunately her mother had left him, and married a decent sort of man… My parents disowned me because I was a disappointment to them. I didn’t embrace the values of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black…” Sirius ran his hand through his hair. “I had my friends, and they loved me and supported me, but she was the only one who really understood the pain I was feeling,” he said softly as he glanced up at Harry. “That was her gift: empathy mixed with compassion. She seemed to instinctively be able to pick out the students who were hurting, or struggling, and she helped them. It didn’t matter what House they were from or what their bloodlines were. That’s what she became known for.”
Now that was the kind of person Harry could see his mum having as a friend, not the heart-breaking, high-tempered woman he was angry with. “So why did she change?” he asked.
“Change?” Sirius was startled; Harry really didn’t know her, so how could he be that perceptive? “What do you mean, change?”
“Of course she changed, Sirius!” Harry countered with some heat. “She wasn’t being compassionate when she broke your heart, was she? Or when she abandoned me to the Dursleys!” His green eyes snapped with hurt and anger.
Sirius stared at his godson with dawning realization. Harry was a lost soul as well, deeply damaged, just like him, just like Rinna… he didn’t know his godson well, but he should have recognized… should have understood… He reached out and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry flinched, but then leaned into the touch.
Sirius was filled with sudden clarifying rage; not at Rinna but at the source of all this hurt and pain. Voldemort. The bastard who had taken so much from him, so much from Rinna and so much from Harry… Sirius let his heart fill with hatred, a hatred so intense that it burned away any remaining anger and resentment he felt toward Rinna. And then, he let the purifying fire die out, till there was only an ember flickering as a reminder of what he was fighting for. He took a deep breath and felt, somehow, lighter, and much more optimistic than he had since he first read Harry’s note about Rinna.
Sirius took a deep breath and said in a gentle voice, “Don’t be too hard on your godmother, Harry. After all, the two of you have many things in common.”
“Right,” said Harry, a hint of bitterness in his voice, “like what?”
“Well, she loves to fly, you love to fly. You are both mad about Quidditch…”
Harry nodded at this, remembering the night on her broom, and the game at his party. He’d recognized they had shared that, and he had liked the feeling of being a little closer to his godmother that knowledge had brought. What Sirius quietly said next nearly knocked Harry off his seat in surprise.
“Her parents, that is her mother and step-father, were murdered… just like yours…”
Harry felt his heart stop for a moment. “Murdered?” he whispered.
“She understands what it is like to be violently orphaned, Harry. She, out of anybody, can appreciate what you have been through…”
Harry contemplated this for a while, a thousand questions warring inside him, before he finally stored this new information away for further dissection later. He finally looked at Sirius, gazed into his haunted eyes, and asked gravely, “Do you still love her?”
Never letting his gaze waver from Harry’s intense green eyes, he answered, “I believe I do.”
“How do you know?” Harry’s voice held no rancor, only curiosity.
“Well, that’s simple”“
“Simple?” Harry demanded, “I thought you said it was complicated!”
Sirius huffed, slightly exasperated, “Well it is! Simple and complicated.” He rolled his eyes at Harry’s frown of confusion. “I don’t know how to explain it! I just know that we were meant to be together, that’s all!”
“Okay,” said Harry, as if that had made perfect sense.
Sirius stared at him. If it had, Sirius wished Harry would explain it to him.
At Sirius’ answer, Harry had felt a little jolt of hope in his heart, and he immediately thought of his favorite picture of Sirius and Rinna from the album that he’d left by the tree. Must remember to retrieve that… It was the one of the two of them on Sirius’ motorcycle; Rinna sat snuggled up against Sirius’ back with her arms wrapped around him, looking mischievous as she whispered something into his ear, and Sirius turned back with a wicked grin before jumping off the motorcycle, pulling her to him and kissing her full on the mouth. Hermione and Ginny had sighed at that one. Harry liked it because of the happy smiles on their faces after they had kissed.
“So what are you going to do about it?” Harry asked.
“What?” Taken aback, Sirius studied his godson keenly. Was there a hint of impudence in that smirk of his? How he looked so much like James! “Do about what?”
“Rinna,” Harry explained like he was talking to a five-year-old, “we are talking about Rinna. I’ve already agreed to stop being so hard on her”“
“Actually, you didn’t,” Sirius pointed out.
Harry rolled his eyes, “Okay, I now agree to stop being so hard on her… So what are you going to do about her?”
Sirius didn’t know how Remus had done it, he really didn’t; handling the quixotic changes of mood of teenagers. Merlin, Sirius thought, I would never have been able to be a teacher. For one thing, he felt himself reverting to his arrogant, pugnacious, teenaged self at the challenge in Harry’s tone that sounded uncannily like James. “I’ll have you know, that I already have a plan, and it is going quite well, thank you very much.”
Suddenly, Sirius was struck by inspiration. There had been a particular rosebush in Molly’s garden that Rinna had loved the color of… “I say, Harry. Maybe you could help me out with something…”
Fortunately, later that evening, no one noticed that one of Molly’s bushes had been plundered, or that Hedwig was missing…
Albus Dumbledore climbed the two short steps to the stoop of Rinna’s house and glanced down as he rang the bell. What he saw made him smile.
“Headmaster,” Rinna greeted him, “Do come in. Please, make yourself...” Her voice dwindled to a stop when she saw that he was holding something in his hand. “What is that?”
“I’m wondering the same,” he smiled as he held it out to her. “I found it on your doorstep.” She took it and blushed heartily. “Perhaps you have a secret admirer?”
Rinna brought to her nose a rose that was the pinkish-orangey hue of sunset mixed with peachy-yellows. It was an exquisite specimen, and it smelled lovely, and it reminded her of… her eyes snapped open when she heard her guest chuckle. “Sorry,” she said, “I’ll, uh, I’ll just put this in some water and bring in some refreshments. Please, take a seat,” she gestured into the living room, and then turned to Dumbledore with a hint of a smirk in her smile and a cheeky look in her eyes. “Would you like some tea, Albus?” she asked sweetly.
“There is no need for impertinence, Arinna. You know perfectly well what kind of repast I am hoping for, young lady!” he called to her as she entered the kitchen. Her laughter trickled out from the kitchen door.
When she emerged a few minutes later, carrying a tray that she set on the coffee table, Dumbledore said, ”Well, Arinna, I am glad that our good Professor Lupin suggested you contact me. You have provided me a solution to a small dilemma I have. I wonder if this might be to your liking, for I think it affords an excellent resolution for us both.”
Rinna looked at him in interest as she passed him a bottle of his favorite beer. Dumbledore took an appreciative sip before continuing, “As you are aware, I have had a vacancy in the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, and it has recently been filled; I hired Alastor Moody. There are many reasons, not the least of which being that Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year.” Rinna made an exclamation of surprise. “But our good Moody is a man with many demands on his time and not as much vigor as he used to have, and had agreed to the job only on the contingency that we hire an assistant DADA professor to help. I believe that you would fit the newly created position of Associate Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor beautifully.”
Rinna eyed him with suspicion. “How convenient, Headmaster, that this position opened just as I was determining to change employment and make use of my studies of the Dark Arts…”
Dumbledore’s face was guileless. “Yes, rather convenient indeed. You wish to have a job in which your talents would be put to better use and appreciated. I have need for additional help this year.”
Rinna sighed. “Let’s be honest with each other, Albus. You would much rather have me where you can keep an eye on me. Don’t think I don’t know the reason you fixed me up with Tonks; to have an Auror-in-training and another of your protégés watching out for me, or watching me.” She looked at him without malice. “Not that I blame you, really. I came back here a loose cannon, and I suppose I could be still considered one…”
Dumbledore gave her a measured look. “Since we are being honest, Arinna… Yes, I was very concerned for you when you returned to England and I felt it best to keep you connected to our world in spite of your wishes. I did want to keep an eye on you, as you put it.” He reached forward and placed his hand on her forearm. “I hope you understand I have always tried to keep your best interests at heart. I have known you for far too long to not care for you considerably.
“But I must admit,” he went on, “that I have taken advantage of your talents and gifts in the past (and don’t think I don’t know how you resented me persuading you to play spy), and I am hoping to do so again.”
Rinna blinked at this. The old fox is being quite open about his intentions for a change…or is he? Dumbledore produced a satchel, and took out a worn periodical, a back issue of The Journal of Advances in Potions, opened it, and slid it over to Rinna. He tapped the title of the article: Theoretical Use of Preservative Potions in Counteracting Dark Curses and said, “The article, and the research behind it, was brilliant, my dear.”
Rinna looked at him, flabbergasted. “You do know that after the article was published, I was lambasted for using unorthodox methods, and for printing, how was it put? Ah, ‘wishful thinking and complete clap-trap!’ I was advised to change the topic of my dissertation, and was cut off from any additional funding.”
Dumbledore stroked his beard. “Time and again, the majority of academicians have been unable to appreciate brilliance presented to them, even when their noses are rubbed in it.” He chuckled. “Fortunately, I am not so afflicted with that type of nearsightedness.” There was a calculating glint in his eyes. “I confess that I want your considerable talents at my disposal. And I hope to sweeten the proposal by telling you I want to fund your additional research into this fascinating topic.”
“You want to fund…” Rinna said weakly.
“Certainly my reasons should be obvious; if you could find an efficacious combination, it would serve our cause well.”
Rinna considered this in silence for a moment. “So you don’t intend for me to be teaching, then?” she asked, unable to completely hide her disappointment at this.
He smiled at her. “On the contrary! You will be teaching. After all, the Board of Governors will believe that is what I wish to hire you for. I really have no intention of revealing my ulterior motive for having you at Hogwarts to them. And moreover, did I not say that I intended to take advantage of many of your talents?”
Rinna stood up and paced around the living room, deep in thought. Dumbledore leaned back and pulled on the bottle in his hand, watching her sharply. Finally, she turned to him, a picture of seriousness, and said, “Albus, how can you be sure I serve your cause? Or, more accurately, that I will continue to serve your cause?”
Rinna had spent a good deal of time that week mulling over her recent embarrassing behavior and had come to realize that she would not have reacted to Sirius’ letter to Harry so strongly had the accusations not held the potential for truth. “After all,” she continued, pointing at her curriculum vitae laying on the coffee table, “you have in front of you a recipe for a powerful Dark Arts practitioner.” She paused, then said softly, “You know why I came back… I was very nearly consumed by it all. How do you know that won’t happen again?”
Dumbledore looked at her artfully. “Because I believe that now you have something that you lacked a few years ago.”
“What is that?” she wondered.
“An anchor for your heart,” he replied. “Two anchors, really. Or you would have them, if you would stop allowing the circumstances of the past to hinder your joy for today.”
“You’re talking about…”
“Harry and Sirius, yes.” Dumbledore patted the couch next to him, and she sat without thinking. “Love, my dear Arinna. Love is the one thing that will hold back the darkness, be it the darkness in this world, or the darkness in one’s soul. I have seen you, over the years, overcome the shadows within you through the love of your friends. It wasn’t until you left and isolated yourself from those who love you that you began to feel the draw of the Dark.”
It’s true. Oh Merlin, it all makes sense. She had certainly mucked it up, hadn’t she, leaving like she did. Rinna was suddenly irritated that Dumbledore hadn’t told her this thirteen years sooner. Ruefully, she realized that he had tried, but she had been hell-bent on departing and pursuing her course, and had not heard. She put her head in her hands and let out a little groan.
Dumbledore let out a long sigh. “I’m afraid I must apologize to you, Arinna, for I fear I did you a disservice helping you subdue your memories when you were young.” She looked at him in surprise, but before she could say anything, he continued, “Yes, I know they were horrific, and quite honestly, I do not know what else could have been done. It was clear you needed some way to cope, or you would not have been able to concentrate on your studies, and I refused to see a student with such potential not have it realized…But I fear that my example taught you a less than adequate way to handle adversity.”
“I’m not sure I understand…” she said in a small voice.
“I taught you that the best way to deal with painful memories was to suppress them, tamp them down, hide them away. Now you are paying for that lesson, are you not?” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Had you learned to, ah now, what is the Muggle term for it? Ah yes, ‘process your feelings,’ I daresay you would not be so conflicted over the recent return of one Sirius Black.”
Rinna felt as if she’d been struck utterly dumb; she would not have been able to speak had she tried, so rattled was she by what had been said. Dumbledore added, “I had hoped that meeting Harry again would help you sort through some of your painful past and give you a reason to let go of some of the responsibility you have so needlessly heaped on yourself.”
“What… what do you mean?”
His blue eyes pierced to her heart. “Let go of the guilt, my dear. There is no need to hold on to it anymore, and it does you harm if you continue to do so.” He removed his hand from her shoulder after giving it a gentle squeeze.
Rinna sat in complete stillness for a while. “You have given me a lot to think about,” she commented softly. “All my life, you have been challenging me, haven’t you? Pushing me to do my best. Guiding me in the way I should go.”
“And now I have offered you another challenge.” He took the documents from the coffee table and rolled them up neatly. “So what say you to my offer? Shall I submit this along with your application,” and a new parchment suddenly appeared on the table, with a quill and inkwell ready, “to the Board of Governors? It is not a given, but I tend to get what I want when it comes to the staff at Hogwarts.”
She seized the quill and filled out the application. “Why not? I’ve not been one to refuse you very often, you know.”
His eyes twinkled as he replied, “Oh, I don’t know about that. You certainly refused to comply with my request to refrain from passionate snogging sessions in broom closets with a certain Marauder, as I recall.”
She looked at him sourly. “I do hope that you do not punctuate staff meetings with embarrassing anecdotes such as that one, because it is not too late for me to tear this up, you know.”
Dumbledore hastily snatched the parchment from her hands and added it to the roll. “Certainly not. Well… at least not until mid-term…” he added with a wily chuckle.
Rinna snorted. “Besides,” she added, “you know that McGonagall completely over-reacted to that incident.” Dumbledore raised his eyebrow at her. “To all those incidents, really.” Dumbledore wisely said no more, and finished his Guinness.
Remus Lupin stood on Rinna’s doorstep, finger poised at the doorbell, his heart drumming nervously in his chest. It was ridiculous, really, to be apprehensive. After all, he’d been here many times before. He took a deep breath and remembered the owl he’d received:
Dear Remy,
The potion is ready, I daresay in the nick of time, so you may come over anytime you wish. You need to take the first dose in the next 24 hours, so tomorrow morning? I’m working just one shift tonight, so ten o’clock wouldn’t be too early. Stop making that face that I know you are making!
Love,
R
He’d been surprised at the tone, because it had read like any other note or letter she’d ever sent him. There was no sign of their recent…involvement… in it. As if she was acting like nothing had happened between them. He wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or hurt. He wasn’t sure what he should feel about her, or about coming over to her house, where they would be together alone…
The door opened suddenly, startling him into pressing the doorbell. Rinna stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, eyeing him with a smile on her face. “Well, it appears that we have this backwards. Shall we try again?” she chuckled as she started to shut the door on him.
He extended his arm to stop the door from closing. “Very funny. Were you trying to give me a coronary?”
“I most certainly wasn’t. Why go to all the trouble of brewing your potion if I intended to have you kick off on my doorstep?” Her smile turned cheeky. “I was just wondering how long you were going to stand there, staring. Had you forgotten how to ring the bell?”
So this is how we are going to play it, huh? “You know, I don’t need to stand here and suffer harassment from a saucy wench like you. I can get that as easily at Mundungus’ place.”
She laughed as she turned for the kitchen. “Does Dung keep many saucy wenches about, then? I wouldn’t be surprised, the lecherous lout that he is.”
Remus followed her. “And how would you know that he is lecherous?”
“Please. That is common knowledge.” She placed her hand on a box sitting on the kitchen table. “Let me show you something.” She opened the lid, and Remus saw that there were bottles nestled safely inside. “These ones with the purple stoppers are for this month,” she explained. “I brewed a double batch, and added a preservative to half, so the red stoppers are for next month.”
Remus frowned a little. “I’ve never heard of adding a preservative to it. What did you add? Will it change the effects?”
She tossed a periodical at him. It was May’s issue of The Journal of Advances in Potions. He turned to the table of contents and saw the article on recent advances in Wolfsbane potion. He skimmed it with interest.
“It will keep the potion efficacious for up to six weeks. After that, well, it would be like what you experienced last month. I contacted the research team at St. Mungo’s. They did trials for two years before the article was published. They are hoping to be able to preserve it up to four months eventually.” She studied him seriously. “You know I wouldn’t give you something that I didn’t think was safe or effective, Remy.”
He looked up at her. “Of course I know that, Rinna.” He closed the journal and set it on the table. “And you know how much I appreciate this, don’t you?” he asked, indicating the box.
“As if I would ever not consider doing this for you! I’m glad you asked.” She held his gaze as she smiled at him, but their eyes locked just a little too long for propriety, and Rinna hastily cleared her throat and looked away. “So, uh, I’ll brew some every month, with the preservative, and so we’ll always be a month ahead. That way if I ever bollix a batch…”
Remus snorted. “As if that would ever happen…”
She looked at him sharply, catching the look of amusement on his face and continued, “Or if for some reason I can’t brew it that month, well then we have backup.”
He crossed his arms and leaned one hip against the table. “Thank you. You’ve no idea how much peace of mind this gives me.”
Rinna put the lid back on the box, and took out some twine to secure it. As she fumbled with the knot, she was acutely aware of the awkwardness in the silence between them. “So where will you spend the next full moon, then?” she asked.
Remus shrugged. “Someplace quiet, someplace deserted, I suppose.”
“I have a cellar here. You’d be safer than off in some wood or abandoned warehouse, you know,” she told him.
He kept a neutral expression. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to stay here,” he said gently.
Rinna sat abruptly at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. “Bloody effing hell,” she whispered.
“What is it?” Remus asked in concern.
“I may not make mistakes when it comes to potions, Remus, but I’m first rate at botching relationships, it seems,” she said miserably. She looked up at him, and before he could say anything she said, “I’m so sorry, Remy.”
He sat down next to her. “About what?”
"I'm sorry, Remus, because I haven't been fair to you..."
He thought he understood. "You are regretting what happened between us," he commented.
"Yes. Well, no. No, 'regretting' is not the right word... I liked what we had going on, whatever it was, to be honest... It's just that... I was being very selfish, Remus. And I wasn't being very honest with myself, and therefore not honest with you."
"I understand, Rinna. You could never love me in that way."
"NO! That's not what I mean!" She pushed the chair back abruptly as she stood. She stalked over to the teakettle and filled it, setting it on the burner to boil. "I was scared, Remus, and confused, when you told me the truth about Sirius... and you were there, solid and dependable, like a rock, like you have always been for me and…” She let out a heavy sigh. “And I feel like I’ve used you. And I’m afraid that I’ve buggered up our friendship.”
Remus crossed the kitchen and took her by the arm, shaking her gently. “If you are going to insist on assigning blame, Rinna, then be sure to shoulder only your fair share. We were both drunk that day, but I still knew I was crossing a line…and I didn’t care.” He let go of her and raked his hand through his hair. “So if anyone was using anyone, it was me taking advantage of you while you were vulnerable.”
“You could never take advantage of anyone!” She exclaimed indignantly. “It’s not in your nature.”
He laughed and leaned his hip against the counter, facing her. “I can always count on you to completely overlook my faults, can’t I?” Then he grew somber again. “I’ve always known where I stood with you, you know. There were lines I drew in my mind, boundaries I’d set that I’d refused to cross… but I had reached my limit of watching you torture yourself and seeing the sorrow in your eyes, and I thought that if I could just make them light up with happiness…” He looked at her sadly. “But I’m not the man who can do that…”
“I’m so sorry, Remy. I was doing everything I could to avoid realizing that I am still in love with Sirius, and it wasn’t fair to you at all…” her voice dropped to a whisper.
He turned and leaned back against the counter with a sigh. “I knew you were still in love with him.” He saw the question on her face. “That night, you were lying in my arms, but you were dreaming of him and it was his name on your lips.” Her eyes grew wide, but before she could apologize yet again, he continued, “I went into this with my eyes wide open, Rinna. I knew where your heart was… I was being selfish, too. There was a time, when you said to me that when you were with me, you felt like you would almost be all right, and I was willing to settle for that. But that wasn’t fair to you; you deserve to be more than just ‘almost all right.’ You deserve to be happy, Rinna.”
Her eyes glinted with tears. “You deserve that, too, you know,” she said softly as she put her hand on his cheek. His mind stirred with the memory of Tonks on her balcony, telling him much the same thing, touching his cheek tenderly…
Remus took her hand, removed it from his face and held it loosely, lost in quiet thought. The whistle of the kettle broke their reverie. She squeezed his hand, and dropped it, turning away to prepare the tea. He sat down once again as she brought the teapot and cups over to the table. They sipped in companionable silence.
Finally, Remus stated in a didactic manner, “As far as buggering up our friendship goes, I have a theory.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Care to enlighten me, Professor?”
“Our friendship has withstood many things, most of them far more devastating than a few experimental sessions of kissing and whatnot…”
She affected an affronted expression. “Excuse me? When was there ‘whatnot?’ I don’t recall any ‘whatnot,’ and if I participated in any without my knowledge, well... I’m going to be severely disappointed that I don’t remember it!” she said, mischief crinkling at the corners of her eyes. “Besides, I’ll have you know that I am not a ‘whatnot’ kind of girl!” she added in a haughty voice.
He grinned at that. For how many years now had they couched their affection for each other, and diffused their attraction for each other, in humor? This was comfortable and familiar, and he felt a band of tension around his heart release. “Oh, don’t you try and tell me that you are not a ‘whatnot’ kind of girl, Miss Dunlevy!” he said as he wagged his finger in front of her face. “Do you forget that teenaged boys share the sordid details of their romantic conquests with their best mates?”
Rinna rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I am so glad I was not aware of that in school, or I would not have ever been able to face the rest of you!” Even now, her cheeks felt very hot. “But we’ve strayed onto a huge tangent from the point I hope you have, Remy.”
His face softened as the grin faded. “My point is… this doesn’t botch something as solid as we have. We haven’t ruined anything; we’ve just discovered a chink in the armor that we need to be careful about exposing again, that’s all,” he told her. He searched her eyes. “I love you; always have and always will.”
She understood. “I love you, too, you wolf,” she said fondly. The conversation lapsed again until Rinna said, “But I need to clear one thing up, Remy. As far as me never being able to love you in that other way…”
“Rinna,” he said in warning.
“I think you’re wrong. I believe I could, if circumstances were different, but…”
“But they’re not,” he said quietly, “and I can’t live on what might have been anymore.”
She looked at him compassionately. “No, and you shouldn’t,” she replied. “But you need to know that you are loveable.”
For the second time, her words conjured the memory of a colorfully coiffed Auror, and Remus smiled. “If you say so, Rinna, then it must be true.”
She smacked her hand down on the table at his remark. “Finally! It has taken years, but it’s about time you figured that out!”
Sirius had spent the night in the woods, explaining to Harry that he did not want to impose on Molly and Arthur, and knowing their good natures, he was sure if they knew he was nearby, they would insist on housing him. “Harboring a fugitive: not something that Arthur should be caught at, you know,” he said. Harry understood, and had gone back to the house to pilfer some food and an old blanket, and return the shears he’d used to cut the rose.
Harry had spent much of the next day monopolizing Sirius as they talked about the old days at Hogwarts, Sirius’ friendship with James, the Marauders’ adventures, and Quidditch. Ron and Hermione were finally let in on the secret of Sirius’ presence after they had become concerned that Harry had disappeared completely (having missed lunch) and was likely in the throes of deep depression. They had been rather surprised when he had popped in the side gate not long after they’d started calling for him ginning in happiness, quite the opposite of the despondent mess they’d envisioned.
The three of them had convinced Molly to let them have an evening of campfire in the woods with a late picnic dinner, marshmallows and butterbeer. “I hope Mum will let us do this again tomorrow night,” Ron said around a mouthful of toasted marshmallows.
Sirius tossed another log onto the small campfire. “Unfortunately, I will need to be leaving tomorrow,” he said with regret.
“What?” Harry protested, “Why?”
“I plan on spending the full moon with an old friend,” Sirius replied as he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Not that it makes up for all the years I couldn’t be there for him.”
Harry swallowed his disappointment, but after hearing Sirius talk about his friendships that day, he knew how much this meant to his godfather. “Right.” He sighed. “So when will I see you again?”
Sirius looked at his godson affectionately. “I don’t know exactly when, Harry. I wish I could tell you, but being on the lam isn’t very conducive to scheduling family get-togethers, you know.” Harry felt all warm at the thought that Sirius considered him family.
“Oh great,” Hermione groused, licking her sticky fingers. “I suppose this means you will be resuming your love affair with that scrapbook?”
Harry felt a little guilty at her remark; he hadn’t been spending as much time with Hermione as he would have liked lately. “I’m not having a love affair with it…” he began, defensively.
“Oh no?” Ron chortled. “You’ve only been sleeping with it on the couch, keeping it under your pillow in our room… Sounds rather like the torrid romance novels that Hermione’s been reading!”
Hermione rounded on Ron in indignation. “I have NOT been reading those trashy romance novels! Those are your mother’s! As IF I would read such utter nonsense!”
Sirius sat back, arms across his chest, and took in the scene. He was reminded so forcibly of memories of his mates and two ginger-haired girls bickering good naturedly that he found that his eyes were wet. When he trusted his voice again, he held out his hands and said, “Whoa, whoa! What’s this all about?”
“Rinna left Harry a picture album so he could see pictures of his mum and dad,” Ron explained, “and Harry’s been glued to it ever since.” Harry made a noise of protest.
Sirius eyes grew wide. “Hang on. It’s not a big one, covered with green leather, is it?” The three kids nodded. Sirius closed his eyes.
“Ta daaa! You must look at my latest masterpiece,” Rinna crowed, placing the scrapbook on Sirius’ lap, opened to the pages she’d just completed.
“Is that what kept you from getting here sooner?” Sirius grumbled, even as he admired the craftsmanship in front of him.
Rinna gave him a light punch in the arm. “You know, it’s the only time I get to behave like a complete girly-girl. You shouldn’t begrudge me my little moments of relaxation.”
“Ha!” He snapped the album shut and set it aside, seizing her swiftly and pulling her into his lap. “I can think of other times when you behave like a girly-girl,” he said with a suggestive leer.
She playfully swatted at him. “Got just one thing on your mind, haven’t you, Blackie?” she giggled.
He wiggled his brows at her and grinned. “Especially when I have you sitting on my lap.” He tilted his chin, and captured her lips with his…
“Sirius?”
Sirius eyes snapped open at the concern in Harry’s voice. “I remember that album,” he said quietly.
“I’m sorry for mentioning it, Sirius,” Hermione apologized, “for bringing up bad memories.”
Sirius studied her for a minute. “Just because memories might be painful, doesn’t mean they are bad,” he said with a significant glance at Harry. “And I suppose that it may actually be a good thing to think about the painful memories, particularly if that inspires you to make the first move to forgive and forget.”
Harry went to sleep that night with those words of his godfather nudging at his heart.
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed!!! I love you all so much (gets all mushy here)! Hugs to you all! I still can NOT respond to reviews… I’ve sort of given up on MNFF getting that fixed. I hope you don’t think I’m not grateful for the reviews!
Alrighty then, seeing as I’m so giddy from all those reviews, keep the love coming, folks, and leave a review for chapter 13!
A New Definition of Family by RahNee
Chapter Notes: Harry gets to see Sirius again, Dumbledore makes Rinna an offer, and awkward moments abound between Remus and Rinna.