Disclaimer: With humble gratitude to J. K. Rowling for allowing me to build castles in her sandbox once more.
Five
Tonks: Traditions Old and New
He checked on them after a time to make sure that things were still on track. He was loath to interfere once again; his actions had been unprecedented enough as it was.
From a table alongside a worn settee, Dumbledore gazed at a mounding belly that could only belong to Nymphadora, her trim figure finally beginning to show the unmistakable signs of pregnancy. In the near distance, a pair of turquoise puffskein slippers were kicked off to reveal toenails painted in sparkling lavender. Undeniably Nymphadora. The image brought a welcome smile to his face.
Outside the window, gauzy light attested to the gloomy, colorless days of winter. The vague outline of Muggle fairy lights through the sheers indicated it must be approaching Yuletide as Tonks munched happily on a chocolate frog.
“Can’t find it!” Remus’ voice rose from the stairwell at the end of the hall. Footsteps approached and his face appeared in the doorway, sandy fringe badly in need of a trim. “Not a single issue of the Prophet to be found.”
Looking up, she questioned, “What about the small kiosk --”
“Near the Muggle market? All boarded up. I don’t dare venture as far as Diagon Alley.”
“Too dangerous,” Tonks concurred. “Don’t give it a thought, sweetheart. I found something else to read in the meanwhile.” As she flipped the cover to show her husband, Dumbledore caught the title: Witch Weekly.
“That issue is at least a year old.”
“Doesn’t matter if I haven’t read it.”
“Of course you haven’t. You always say such magazines are too girly.”
The small mountain of flesh rose and fell as she shrugged dismissively. “Can’t rightly deny my womanhood when I’m carrying a child.”
Remus’ tone bordered on reverence as he echoed, “Our child.”
“Besides, the Daily Prophet should be renamed the Daily Lies these days. Prophetic, it is not.”
“I thought you didn’t hold much store with prophecies.”
“I don’t -- and I certainly don’t care for lies.”
“Isn’t that what Witch Weekly promises? Right there on the cover it proposes to teach you how to don robes that will make your wizard’s eyes pop.”
Tonks laughed merrily. “That’s wishful thinking. Hope, not lies.”
“Having seen the ghastly crones at the market, some of those women are hopeless.”
“Which is precisely why they feel the need to improve themselves. Besides, Mr. Analytical, the story only promises to teach them what to buy. Nothing is implied about whether or not it will suit them.”
“The vagaries of fashion.”
“Which is why I always prefer to set my own trends, thank you very much.”
“Dora!” came Andromeda’s velvety voice from the stairs. “Did you finish with the gifts?”
Tonks screwed her face up for Remus’ benefit as she raised her voice in reply, “Sorry, Mum. You know how hopeless I’m with that folding spell. Didn’t want to mangle all the fancy paper you insisted we couldn’t live without!” Under her breath she added, “I don’t know why she has to go through all this rigmarole. Not this year anyway. So many worries pressing in from all sides.”
“That’s precisely why she does it,” Remus confided lowly. “If she goes through the motions at home, it helps her to pretend things aren’t so dire in general.”
“But without Dad…” Tonks voice caught with worry.
“What if he manages to show up? She’d never forgive herself if she didn’t offer him a proper holiday welcome.”
“Dad wouldn’t care about that.”
“Perhaps not, but don’t take this one little thing away from her, Dora. Your mother’s doing her best to not fall apart herself; don’t crack her veneer.”
“But reality ““
“Is the last thing she wants right now. She wants Christmas, a traditional celebration that brings joy to the entire world. Even if it’s just for a few days.”
“It just seems so pointless -- not to mention the extra expense.”
“You can’t put a price on the glue that holds someone’s sanity together, love. Trust me on that one.”
“Remus,” Andromeda cried from the first floor landing. “Could I delegate the gift-wrapping to you? Something tells me you’re better suited to such tasks that some others whom I won’t mention.”
“I’ll be down in a second,” Remus called in reply. Then turning to Tonks, he admonished her gently, “Please stop all these morbid thoughts, sweetheart. It’s not good for the baby to let your raging hormones get the better of your usual common sense. Remember what the Healer said.”
“Do you really think the baby can hear everything we say?”
“Who am I to doubt the experts?”
“I notice you left the wireless on the endless music station.”
“You could’ve turned it off with a flick of your wand; it’s in your direct line of sight.” Remus cocked his head as he listened briefly. “Don’t you like Vivaldi? I always found it uplifting.”
“You’re right. I’ll just tell Teddy a happy story while you manufacture some Christmas cheer.”
At the doorway, Remus turned back with a quizzical furrow between his eyes. “Teddy? I thought you didn’t want to know the gender ahead of time.”
“I don’t.”
“What makes you think it’s a boy?” he asked as he kneeled next to her and laid a gentle hand on her abdomen.
“I don’t. Teddy’s supposed to be a generic name.”
“How do you figure that?”
“We could go with Theodora, if it’s a girl.”
“I thought you hated long names “ and that’s another Dora to add to the confusion.”
Tonks grinned up at him. “That’s why I chose Teddy. Just change the spelling if it’s a girl.”
“But your father’s first name is Edward, not Theodore.”
“True, but I just couldn’t warm up to Edwina.”
Through her unspoken words, Dumbledore clearly read the inner turmoil. Despite the carefree air she adopted on the surface, Nymphadora was just as desperately worried about Ted Tonks as her mother was. So much so, that it permeated every segment of her life.
“He’ll be fine you know,” Remus soothed as he ran his thumb over the knuckles of the small hand he held in his. “Didn’t you say he loved to go camping when he was younger?”
“That was in a wizard’s tent; Mum would never consider actually roughing it.”
“So he’s finally getting a chance to truly sleep under the stars. Think of it as a big adventure.”
“You’re right,” she conceded with a sigh. “Worrying doesn’t accomplish much of anything, does it?”
“Negative energy, nothing more.”
“Go help Mum, Remus. She’s always short on patience as the holiday chores pile up.” As his steps echoed from the hallway, she raised her voice to add, “Tell her I’m not baking any fancy biscuits, though.”
“No need,” Remus snorted from the landing. “She claims you always burn them so black, she has to pass them off as thestrals!”
“Cheeky!” she muttered under her breath to the empty room. “Your daddy wasn’t always such a prat, you know. There was a time I thought him the most romantic man alive.”
Dumbledore was mesmerized as she spun the tale for the benefit of her unborn child, her gentle fingers making swirling motions across her swollen belly. “Let me tell you about the first time he kissed me…”
The effect was nothing short of hypnotic as Tonks’ voice took on a soft, lilting cadence. It was so easy to visualize the peeling wallpaper in Sirius’ bereft townhouse -- yet the joy and laughter that the three of them managed to eek out of their somber surroundings was unmistakable.
The kitchen table was worn to a shiny smoothness by years of use; the cracked bricks of the basement hearth hid a century’s worth of soot deposits. The high transom windows could only be unstuck with repeated spells peppered with more and more creative expletives. Into this setting, Tonks’ narration placed the young heroine.
“Yours truly,” she whispered to her child, “as well as the noble but brassbound hero, your father-to-be. Only according to the argument that we were having for the hundred and tenth time, he was determined to remain childless until his dying day. Why he even had recurring themes that he liked to rotate at will just to make sure I was paying attention. That night I believe he was going on about our ages.” She varied the timbre of her voice so that Dumbledore had no trouble following the conversation.
“‘Thirteen years is still quite a gap,’ Remus stubbornly maintained.
“‘Since when is that an important issue?’ I demanded. ‘It’s not like you’re old enough to be my father, anyway.’
“‘Well, technically a lad of thirteen is old enough--’
“‘Only if he finds a willing female. And that’s one very big ‘if’.’
“That stopped him for a moment as he considered that not even your uncle, Sirius, could have pulled that one off “ and everyone knew he was smooth enough to date girls who were a number of years ahead of him at school. Finally, your father settled for, ‘Old enough to be one of your professors, then.’
“‘By the time you took up the Dark Arts class, I was already a trained Auror.’
“‘So you’re saying you would’ve flattened my presumptuous arse?’ he countered, unable to hide his smirk.
“‘No, I’m saying we’re on an even playing field.’
“‘What about Severus? He was in the same year as I; you took Potions classes from him.’
“‘Lumbering hippogriffs, Remus! I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing.’
“‘It was only a hypothetical --’
“‘Now I’ll have to wash that distasteful, hypothetical image from my mind. Snape is hardly my type!’
“‘What exactly is your type? You haven’t rightly said.’
“‘You haven’t exactly indicated you were rightly interested.’
“‘Consider it another hypothetical.’
“I rolled my eyes at his machinations before supplying, ‘Someone who makes me laugh.’
“‘Severus can be funny.’ Remus refused to back down.
“‘Yeah. He’s a barrel of hyperactive crups, he is. I meant someone I could laugh with, not at.’
“That made him chuckle, so he relented, ‘I see your point. But really, Tonks, if you were to look at the situation realistically --’
“‘Not back to thirteen again, are we? It’s just a bloody number, Remus! Like number twelve, Grimmauld Place.’
“‘That’s a number that denotes a location.’
“Not to be outdone by his circuitous logic, I remarked, ‘So is this! It pinpoints the roadblock in your thinking. Look, Remus, it’s not as if I’m a child.’
“‘Just an ingénue.’
“‘That’s a theatrical term. Unless you plan on handing me a script…’
“‘No, that would spoil the fun of your unexpected retorts.’
“‘See, you enjoy having someone to laugh with also.’
“‘I admit Buckbeak never really gets my jokes,’ he deadpanned.
“Seeing a way to turn the conversation more to my advantage, I volunteered, ‘I bet I’ve lived more in my years since I left school than you have in yours. Don’t deny it! You yourself admitted you’d been a recluse far too much of the time.’
“‘Not entirely by choice.’
“‘Couldn’t have been as a direct result of all those objections you always bring up.’
“‘I’m not giving you a tour of my sordid love life, if that’s what you’re angling for.’
“‘Of course not. You’d be too much of a gentleman for that. Besides, you wouldn’t want to make yourself look so pathetic. Some girls fancy that kind of neediness.’
“With a sharp lift of his eyebrow, he replied, ‘But not you?’
“‘No. There’s too much living to do to spend your life mired in the past. That’s my motto.’
“‘Really? Yesterday, your motto was: Never tickle a sleeping dragon.’
“‘That’s the Hogwarts motto,’ I reminded him.
“‘Really? Well, I knew it had something to do with an unruly beast.’
“‘Never throw pearls before a Neanderthal. And I was talking about those tossers at work.’
“Leaning over, he whispered, ‘Sometimes I feel the same way about Sirius when he’s in his cups.’
“I couldn’t help giggling, ‘Don’t let him hear you say that!’
“‘As if he could hear anything over his snoring!’
“‘What makes you so sure that’s not the hippogriff?’
“‘Buckbeak? At times I feel he’s the more domesticated of the two.’
“‘Don’t make me laugh!’
“With a playful pout, he recalled, ‘But I thought you liked that.’
“‘From the men I go out with,’ I emphasized. ‘You and I are still arguing about how we’re destined to spend eternity in this effing townhouse!’
“‘Don’t you have to present yourself at work on Monday?’
“‘If I kill you first, they’ll cart me off the Azkaban.’
“‘See, and you thought you’d never get out of this townhouse! I promise I’ll come on visiting days. Even bring chocolate cupcakes.’ He threw me a cheeky grin.
“Playing along, I conceded, ‘With my luck, the dementor assigned to my cellblock would have a sweet tooth.’
“‘Then he’d self-destruct when he devoured one of my cupcakes.’
“‘Without a doubt! No offense, Remus, but you’re the world’s most deplorable cook.’
“‘Can you do any better?’
“‘No, but I don’t lie to myself about it. I just fetch take-away.’
“‘Spoken like a true working girl. I prefer to stay at home.’
“‘All alone apparently.’
“‘Not really. I’m not alone right now, for instance.’
“‘Only because you haven’t worn out my patience yet.’
“‘You’d just come back tomorrow. Now look who’s pathetic!’
“‘So said the kettle.’ Wanting nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face, I added, ‘I could go out this very minute and find myself a right fellow at the nearest pub.’
“‘Is it your intention that I should watch?’ he mercilessly taunted.
“I looked him up and down enough to unnerve him, then whispered, ‘I never took you for a peeping wolf…’
“‘That’s not really what I meant,’ he answered, trying to hide the fact that I’d made him blush.
“‘What did you mean then? I may not be as worldly as you, but I’m hardly a virgin, you know.’
“‘Tonks, I would never have asked you such a personal question!’ he stammered.
“‘Why would you need to? I just told you myself.’
“Feeling cornered, he begged, ‘Can we change the subject? Please.’
“‘Why? Are you that much of a prude?’
“‘Damn it, Tonks! What would you have me say?’
“‘What’s the big fuss?’ I pressed my advantage. ‘Are you a virgin?’
“He shook his head in resignation as he admitted lowly, ‘No.’
“‘See? And you thought we’d have nothing in common from opposite sides of that wide, thirteen-year abyss.’
“Unwilling to admit defeat, he tried to distract me with, ‘I bet I can find something else we have in common.’
“‘ Ooooh, I love wagers. What are --’ It was at this point that he leaned over and kissed me, surprising me with the true depths of his quiet demeanor.
“When I was finally able to get my breath back, I responded, ‘Does this mean we’re going out?’
“‘We’ll see.’
“Railing at the stoic mask that had fallen over his face once more, I cried, ‘If you were this infuriating with your school sweetheart, I can see why she dumped you!’
“‘What makes you think I wasn’t the one to break up with her?’
“‘You forget you already told me the sob story about how she broke your heart.’
“‘I wouldn’t have if I’d known you were going to make light of it.’
“‘I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t that different being a Metamorphmagus.’
“‘Sure it is! You’re in control of your appearance. You can desist making changes if you know it will repulse another.’
“Seeing the hole in his argument, I countered, ‘Why would I want to cease being myself for the sake of someone else? Such company I could do without.’
“‘I quite agree, but I haven’t found anyone who was willing to accept my version of the truth.’
“I cleared my throat to get his attention. ‘You haven’t really given anyone a chance,’ I clarified.
“‘Is that anyone I know? Or anyone in a hypothetical sense?’
“‘Don’t you ever tire of these games?’ I sighed.
“‘How could I? You keep changing the rules on me.’
“‘Oh really?’ With a bit of devilment, I pressed, ‘What did you say was the name of your girlfriend at Hogwarts?’
“‘I didn’t.’
“‘Why? Do you think I might know her?’
“‘Probably not. But I wouldn’t put anything past you.’
“‘There’s only one way to find out,’ I cajoled.
“‘Her name was Rosalinda. Satisfied?’ He grimaced in that comical fashion of his.
“‘Was she beautiful?’
“‘Not on the inside where it counts the most.’
“‘But such a romantic name…’ I whispered in a dreamy fashion.
“‘Would you rather your parents have named you that instead of Nymphadora?’ he teased.
“‘Not in this case. I wouldn’t want you to get confused.’
“‘I’m certain the pink hair would keep me straight.’
“‘You can’t see colors in the dark,’ I pointed out with unerring logic.
“‘That depends upon how bright the moon is. But what makes you think I’d get caught in the dark with the likes of you?’
“‘Don’t think you can trust yourself, eh?’ I needled in return.
“‘Something tells me you’d have more arms than the Giant Squid.’
“I pulled a face. ‘You really are kinky, aren’t you! I recommend saving the role-playing for later.’
“His eyebrows arched in surprise, ‘Aren’t you taking a lot for granted?’
“‘It was a tantalizing kiss. Full of possibilities.’
“‘Don’t make me regret it then.’
Remus stood in the doorway, Levitating a small mountain of gaily wrapped gifts. “I don’t remember it happening quite like that,” he observed, effectively breaking the nostalgic spell.
“No?”
“You omitted the part where you drew your wand and threatened to Imperius me if I didn’t take you out to the pub.”
“Seems to me you went willingly,” she corrected.
“Didn’t want to be the cause of you being sent upriver for using an Unforgivable.”
“I would’ve been acquitted,” Tonks huffed lightly. “Extenuating circumstances.”
“Hardly,” Remus snorted. “You were too busy trying to out-flirt me.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“Do you have a more appropriate term?” he dared.
“Ambush. Regroup. Re-evaluate. Resurgence.”
“Just as long as it’s not regret,” he breathed as he settled himself on the arm of the settee.
“No, never that,” she responded in a husky voice as she closed the distance between them.
After breaking apart from a lengthy kiss, Remus was slightly lightheaded as he inquired, “Are you planning on telling our Teddy an X-rated story next?”
“Colliding comets! If he, or she, can hear everything, our privacy just went out the window. How ever will --”
Remus placed a finger tenderly across her lips. “I think the midwife Healer just meant that the baby can understand being loved. Word recognition occurs as the birth draws nearer.”
“I’m not certain I buy into that,” Tonks considered. “When do a baby’s ears actually develop in the womb?”
“Check one of those reference books your mum saved.”
“You mean her scorecards?” At his blank expression, she elaborated, “Many of those books include a timetable for a child’s development. Averages only, not instructions carved in stone. If you expect your child to exhibit those skills and behaviors exactly on schedule, a parent is bound to be disappointed.”
“Since when did you become an expert?”
“Since I recalled the words our family Healer repeated over and over to Mum.”
“I suspect being a Metamorphmagus played a major role in that.”
“And it’s likely to be a factor for our child as well,” she predicted.
“So anything’s possible, you’re saying?”
“I’m saying that if he’s anything like you, he’ll be carrying on a conversation with himself inside the womb.”
“If she’s anything like you, she’ll be contradicting me with her first breath!” Remus volleyed back.
They glared at each other playfully before breaking into gales of laughter.
Noticing the packages still hovering in the doorway, Tonks was drawn to examine them more closely. Each was wrapped in bright foil and tied with a fabric ribbon bow. She peered critically at the neatly folded corners.
“It didn’t take you any time to master Mum’s gift-wrapping spell,” she complimented. “She adapted it from the packing spell; I’m rubbish at that one also.”
“I didn’t use a spell.”
“What wizard wraps gifts by hand when he can use magic?” she countered in disbelief.
“One who enjoys a rare opportunity to do things with his hands. Much less stressful than waving your wand about all the time.”
“But surely you needed a charm to tie all the bows. Some are even double-tied.”
“Nope. All by hand. Andromeda gave me the basics and let me run with it.”
“Then she trusts you more than she ever trusted me,” Tonks groused. “You even adhered to her theme.”
Remus nodded from where he was lounging on the bed. “Solid wrap, patterned ribbon. Not that complicated.”
“I always preferred the patterned wrap.”
“According to her, you also added clashing ribbon to create a discordant mess!” he chuckled.
“There’s nothing wrong with originality, you know. Modern artists and symphony composers use dissonance to great effect.”
“Sounds like you were dragged to far too many cultural events as a child.”
“Which means she should’ve made the connection herself,” Tonks persisted. “All her lofty words about taking time to understand the artist’s true message.”
With amusement dancing in his eyes, Remus coaxed, “So what exactly were you trying to convey with your avant-garde style? That you hated being assigned to gift-wrapping duty?”
“You know me too well,” she barely managed without smirking.
“The better part of a year teaching children and one learns just how their manipulative little minds work. It’s been a skill I find rather useful…”
“Are we back on that age thing again?” she interjected. “It’s a ruddy dead dragon, Remus!”
“People of all ages can be childish.”
“So, it’s the very definition of maturity to collude with Mum’s arbitrary ideas?”
“I wasn’t the visionary that you were, true. But I got the job done. Now where do we hide them?”
“Hide them?”
“So the elves can distribute them at daybreak on Christmas.” He hesitated at her bemused expression. “Didn’t you wake up with piles of gifts at the foot of your bed?”
“Sure, that’s the way elves do it at Hogwarts. But in case you haven’t noticed, we don’t have a house-elf. Just Mum to delegate tasks to me and Dad.”
“And you think my parents did?” Remus countered. “Modest doesn’t begin to describe our living arrangements.”
“Then I suspect your parents soundlessly Levitated the gifts themselves in the middle of the night,” Tonks surmised. “We don’t do that here. Mum always arranges them under the tree like Dad remembers from his Muggle childhood. The added bonus is that everyone can admire her gift-wrapping skills in the bargain.”
With an amused curl to his lip, Remus attested, “I think you attribute way too much of a Slytherin’s selfishness to your mother.”
“Why shouldn’t I? That was her house at school. All the Blacks were sorted into Slytherin --”
“Except for Sirius, I remember it like it was yesterday. Caused quite a stir in the Great Hall.”
“I suspect there were fireworks when Sirius’ parents found out,” Tonks giggled. “Mum remembers being inordinately proud of him but afraid to let anyone know. By Merlin’s beard, Remus! What are we doing with the presents this year? Don’t tell me she bought a tree!”
“Right outside the market,” Remus confirmed. “They’re holding it in our name until I come back for it at dusk.”
With a slight frown, she noted, “Blimey, it starts to get cold that time of night. Why don’t you just tie it to the top of Dad’s jeep? I’m certain he won’t mind.”
“Did you forget I’ve never driven a Muggle automobile?”
“Well, Mum could certainly teach you if she still had her trusty little Fiat, but with the jeep….She hasn’t mastered the clutch beyond the first lesson, I’m afraid.”
“What’s the first lesson?” Remus wanted to know.
“Backing out of the driveway.”
Remus grinned. “Oh, that explains why she practices it regularly.”
“Don’t be a dolt, Remus! She keeps moving the car to give the illusion of normality. We’re in the middle of a Muggle neighborhood, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Did she forget about the Fidelius charm Ted insisted she establish before he left? Muggles can’t see us.”
“I suspect she didn’t want to get out of the habit. Charms can fade sometimes.” Finding another wrinkle, she added, “How will you be able to find your way back at dusk?”
“The same way we’ve been going back and forth to the market.”
With sudden inspiration, Tonks volunteered, “Does extreme hunger qualify you for rescue by the Knight Bus?”
Remus started to chuckle only to have it die in his throat. “Considering Stan Shunpike, I don’t think I’d trust that ruddy contraption.”
“I see what you mean,” she sighed.
“But to answer your earlier question. We’ve been Apparating from that patch of woods at the end of the lane; the snow’s not too deep underneath the trees there.”
She gave him a heartfelt smile. “Makes sense. You wouldn’t want to Floo with full grocery bags.”
“Too much like St. Nick returning home with an empty sack, I wager!” Remus laughed outright. “Besides, I’m fairly certain your house has been disconnected from the Floo Network. It’s one of the first precautions Kingsley advises.”
Taking a furtive peek out the window, Tonks revealed that it was almost dark “ and not quite tea time, Dumbledore calculated. With concern coloring her features, she reiterated, “It gets gloomy ever so quickly this time of year.”
Giving her a reassuring kiss on the top of the head, Remus whispered, “The better to use a Locomotor Charm away from prying eyes. I don’t have to remind you, this is a Muggle neighborhood.”
Tonks rolled her eyes. “Really? Must have escaped me all those years growing up here…So then you’ll Apparate the tree back--”
“Really, Tonks. Have you ever Apparated with an inanimate object strapped to your body?”
“Does an umbrella and rucksack count?”
“No. The magical laws won’t allow for anything much larger. I’d likely end up as the angel atop the blasted thing for my troubles!”
Tonks laughed uproariously at the image. “That would make for a memorable holiday!” she finally managed.
Through his own merriment, Remus admitted, “I was hoping for something a little less memorable. After all, we have years to carve out our own Lupin family traditions.”
Tonks made to stack the presents carefully atop their clothes cupboard for the time being. Only Remus’ quick wandwork kept them from tumbling into a rainbow avalanche.
She looked up into his warm eyes with a saucy grin. “Do you think after you get back, I can help trim the tree?”
“I thought you hated Christmas chores.”
“It doesn’t count as a chore if I volunteer willingly. You didn’t even have to manipulate me.”
“We’ll see,” Remus insisted as he gently led her back to the settee. “You know what the Healer said.”
“The one who couldn’t see that I wasn’t a ruddy pureblood like the rest of the Blacks? I’m not some hothouse tentacula that needs to be coddled!”
Sitting himself at her feet, Remus soothed, “The midwife’s just being cautious in light of all the problems your mother had.”
“But I’m used to physical activity.”
“And she said you could maintain a regular exercise routine. Don’t give you mum any more cause for worry. You know we can’t risk repeated visits to the Healer “ not unless it’s an emergency. You need to keep your pregnancy as problem-free as possible.”
“You said it yourself: no one needs to know that I’m a Metamorphmagus unless I tell them.”
“It’s still too big a risk. Subconscious thought can trigger your hair changes; I’ve seen it first-hand.”
“You saw my gift fizzle out to nothing,” she recalled with a small frown.
“I’ve also seen you angry and it’s a veritable light show in every sense of the word,” Remus attested as he ran his fingers lovingly through her spritely pink curls.