In the spring of nineteen-seventy-four, a group of boys escaped from the confines of Hogwarts, where they were supposed to be revising, and levitated a basket stuffed with food to the shores of the black lake. Basking in the spring sunshine and eating the food they’d ‘acquired’ from the kitchens, they forgot about the dull history texts they should have been looking through. Instead, they chatted idly about this and that, enjoying each other’s company in the way only boys can.
After wrestling on the ground and shoving chocolate cake inside Sirius’ robes, to make up for the apple pie the latter had squished into his hair, Remus pulled away and stretched out his hand to grab something else to eat.
“Do you know something?” he declared as he munched on a Cauldron Cake. “Easter is my favourite celebration of the year.”
“Why?” Sirius asked, pulling cake out of the front of his robe and smearing the butter icing on Peter’s sleeve. “I mean, I love a holiday as much as the next wizard...”
“And chocolate’s always good,” interrupted James as he broke off a large chunk of Honeyduke’s finest and shoved it into his mouth. “But then you get that at Christmas, and birthdays, and ... well, anytime we’re in Hogsmeade.”
“Greedy pig!” said a voice behind them. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you, Potter, how rude it is to talk with your mouth full?”
They looked round to see the slim figure of Lily Evans, hands on hips, staring with the haughty disdain that only fourteen-year-old girls are able to muster. James bit into the chocolate, added some jelly worms, and opened his mouth even wider. “You don’t have to look at me, Evans,” he replied, chocolate dribbling down his chin, as the others began laughing. “Unless for some reason, you find me irresistible.”
Lily scowled at him and then turned on her heel. “You’re disgusting, Potter! No one is ever going to find you irresistible. I doubt anyone would snog you, not even if you used Amortentia!”
She stomped off leaving James thoroughly perplexed while the other three snorted with laughter.
“Merlin, Evans is a hoity-toity witch at times. You all have permission to hex the daylights out of me if I ever say anything nice about her,” muttered James before laughing at such a preposterous idea. They returned to their impromptu picnic that seemed to consist only of chocolate and cake.
“You were saying about Easter, Remus,” said Sirius after a while.
“Mmm, my favourite celebration of the year,” Remus replied.
“Even more than Christmas or your birthday?” Peter asked incredulously.
Remus lay back on the grass and felt the warm sunshine caress his skin. He could smell the newly mown grass and his heart lifted a touch at how great it was to be here, to be with his friends. “Much better,” he said.
“Why?” asked James, interested now that he’d finished off the chocolate.
“Timing,” replied Remus enigmatically, and grinned to himself as they all raised their eyebrows.
“I CAN’T DO THIS ANY MORE, LUPIN!” screamed Tonks.”Just make it stop. For the love of Merlin, make it go away!”
“Hush, Dora, it’ll be over soon,” Remus soothed as he put his arm around her and began to walk her around the room. He glanced anxiously at the clock, wondering where Andromeda was with the Healer.
“How do you know, you useless heap of... of ... wizardness? You have no bloody idea what I’m going through so don’t ... OHHHHH!” Tonks stopped mid-rant and bent over. “That was a bad one.” She manoeuvred herself onto the floor and crawled over to some large cushions where she lay on her side. “Has Mum returned yet?”
“No, but I’m sure she’ll be back very soon,” he said reassuringly. Inside, he wasn’t so sure. Andromeda had left an hour ago, but was obviously having trouble finding a Healer who was willing to come to the house incognito. Bitterly, he wondered if it was the fact that he was the father of the baby that was stopping them coming. He shook his head trying to rid himself of the dreadful foreboding that his child would be tainted by his cursed life.
“Distract me, Remus. Talk to me about something silly.” Her voice wrenched him back to the present.
Scooting straight to her, he began to massage her back. Needing his own distraction, he cast his mind back to less troubled times. “When I was in my third year at Hogwarts...”
“Oh, Merlin, don’t tell me this is another Marauder story about some fantastic prank you pulled. I tell you, I was notorious and I was working alone!” she exclaimed.
Ignoring her tetchiness, Remus watched with concern as her face screwed up in pain at the start of another contraction. He increased the pressure on her back until she clutched at his hand and squeezed it tight. “Just tell me, whatever it is,” she gasped.
“I was sitting by the lake in my third year, telling the others that Easter was my favourite holiday. None of them could work out why,” he explained, aware that she really wasn’t listening to him, her mind focused very much on the here and now.
An hour later, Remus gazed across at his beautiful, brave and for once silent wife, and smiled as she cradled their son. She looked up at her husband and winked, pleased with her own cleverness at producing such a beautiful bundle.
“Did they ever work out why Easter is your favourite holiday?” she whispered.
“No,” Remus replied in a soft voice. “I even told them it was to do with timing, but they had no idea, except for linking it to spring.”
“Did you ever explain?”
Remus shook his head. James and Sirius had very fleeting interest in things that didn’t concern them, and although Peter might have kept up with the game “ he’d always been fond of puzzling things out “he’d followed James’ lead, as usual, and none of them had remembered the conversation in the subsequent years.
“The first Sunday, after the first full moon, after the twenty-first of March,” intoned Tonks, “that’s how Easter’s calculated, meaning that you’ll never be transforming on Easter Sunday.”
She patted the space beside her. Remus sat and very carefully touched his son’s soft cheek, scared in case this delicate being fractured under his fingertip. Opening his eyes and on seeing his father, Teddy’s black hair turned brown. Remus felt a lump in his throat. All his fears were unfounded, just as Dora had predicted. He had a son, a beautiful baby boy who, it astounded him to see, was a Metamorphmagus .
“And this Easter Sunday is the best ever,” he whispered as he bent down to bestow a soft kiss on his son’s brow.