Disclaimer: Thanks to J.K. Rowling for allowing me to take her characters for a lengthy stroll through my imagination.
Seven
Insomnia
“To think you passed up a chance to be the new cover-boy!” Ginny giggled as she poked Remus gleefully in the arm.
Remus buried his face in his hands and shook his head. Lifting playful eyes, he moaned, “How do I get myself backed into such corners?”
“Don’t make such a fuss,” Tonks commented wryly as she joined the merry group around the kitchen table. “You managed to side-step quite deftly.”
“Rather like a matador, I would say,” Harry ventured as he made a mock flourish with his arm, nearly spilling his half-filled mug in the process.
The pot of cocoa rattled ominously on the table as Tonks tried to levitate it towards her cup while her arm still shook with pent up laughter. With a tiny grunt, Remus lowered her wand in precaution and simply reached over to grab the handle manually.
“I’m just glad I didn’t offend Luna with my refusal,” Remus remarked.
“I’m certain she didn’t mean it…that way,” Harry attested.
“You mean the way everyone else took it?” Tonks teased.
“Luna has a good heart,” Ginny agreed. “She just idolizes her father…”
“… and in her eyes he’s a true visionary,” Remus finished.
“Well, you have to admit, he certainly sees things others overlook! Imaginary beasts and beings, for instance!” Tonks snorted.
“Can you imagine being ‘outed’ by The Quibbler?” Remus laughed heartily.
“A public stoning would be preferable,” Harry quipped.
“Unfortunately, that would follow!” Remus noted. “Once the mob dragged me from Hogwarts’ hallowed halls.”
“You don’t think Minerva would be able to argue your case before the Board of Governors?” Ginny supplied with a grin.
“There’s only so much back-pedaling she could do against the tide of ignorance.” Remus sighed in resignation, his previous merriment having fled.
Tonks laid a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder. There was no use thinking about how tenuous everyone’s position in life was when you got down to it. “Come, it’s time I tucked you in just like the others,” she whispered in his ear. “Before the laughter wakes them up and they sneak back with their little mugs clasped in their hands like Oliver Twist.”
“Didn’t your folks make sure everyone got cocoa before bed?” Remus inquired as he slowly got to his feet.
“Yes, but that won’t stop them from demanding a second “ or third “ round!” Tonks asserted knowingly. “I had enough trouble getting them to calm down as it was.”
“Perhaps they’ll have a bit of a lie-in tomorrow,” Harry suggested with a wistful smile.
“If only,” Tonks whispered. “They’ll be pestering me bright and early to go to the Burrow now that they know Uncle Xeno lives just over the next rise.”
“He made quite an impression on them,” Ginny affirmed. “Spook’s eyes were fit to burst from his head at the vivid descriptions of fantastic beasts.”
“Victoire assured him such creatures grazed freely in the next pasture,” Remus noted with a roll of his eyes.
“Well, they’re bound to be disappointed when they discover nothing more than sheep and shaggy Shetland ponies,” Ginny confirmed sagely.
“Ponies?” Tonks paused to make sure she’d heard correctly. “Teddy may be disappointed, but Phoebe will be in heaven! I’ll be sure to owl Xeno tomorrow and see if we can visit before the December snows set in.”
“Ponies, for real?” Harry breathed to Ginny as the door shut quietly behind Remus and Tonks.
Flashing him a mischievous smirk, Ginny warned, “Both of us have outgrown them.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Harry protested.
Ginny demonstrated she’d know his import all along. “You were just hoping someone else would be the beast of burden for awhile.”
How many times had the children pestered him to assume his Animagus form just so they could ride on the back of a tame zebra? He could hardly refuse, especially knowing how Remus always indulged them when they found a secluded stretch of seashore. “Something like that,” Harry remarked as he drained the last of his cocoa. “Do you think she’ll be disappointed that ponies have no stripes?”
“I doubt it; they have spots instead,” Ginny proclaimed, pressing a tantalizing kiss to his temple as she dragged him to his feet.
With a flick of his wand, Harry deposited the used dishes in the sink for Dobby to see to in the morning. He could just as easily have finished the clean-up with a slightly more complex spell, but then he would offend the work ethic of house-elves the world over “ and he was not about to make that mistake again.
“Tell me this, Ginny,” Harry implored once they had reached the relative privacy of their own bedchamber. “Why didn’t you offer your services with the WWN this evening? I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she responded as she kicked off her shoes. Catching Harry’s expectant look, she elaborated, “This whole situation with that pig, Umbridge, is nothing but a turf war. It’s not news. The best thing is to just let it blow over.”
“That hasn’t really worked.”
“Some things are more persistent than others,” Ginny affirmed. “The bigger the lie, the bigger the following. Mum used to always say that to us when we were little.”
“Who would have ever figured Molly for a great philosopher?”
“Don’t tell Remus,” Ginny breathed with a giggle. “He’ll seek to engage her in esoteric debate and we’ll never get fed at the Burrow again!”
Harry chuckled appreciatively at the image. “So what would make it news?” he persisted.
“Something unique that no one has ever heard before,” Ginny shot back succinctly. “Not a rehash that just lends credence to the absurd.”
“You would’ve had a difficult time maintaining your journalistic integrity under Fudge’s tenure, don’t you think?”
“I shudder to think of it. But truthfully, Harry, the WWN reporters who do personal interviews are too caught up with the human interest angle to do this issue any good. We don’t need anyone else sympathizing with Umbridge.”
“What about sympathizing with us? The Order is the injured party here!”
“Assuming we could totally disregard my personal involvement, how much sympathy do you think a band of renegades who took matters into their own capable hands will generate?”
“People will support the ideals for which we fought…”
“That’s old news. Voldemort has been defeated. Unless you’re planning on doing a retrospective, how does it affect people now?”
“I see your point,” Harry conceded with a weary sigh as he flicked off the lights.
“Trust me, I won’t hesitate to pounce on a news story when it materializes. But until then, I have to allow others to work their particular brand of magic.”
It seemed like it was only minutes later that he was being shaken awake.
“Please, Harry Potter, sir, I didn’t know where else to turn!”
In a sleepy fog, Harry felt for his glasses on the nightstand then focused on the stricken face of the house-elf hovering at his bedside.
“What is it, Dobby?” he croaked, swallowing the inclination to add, ‘What is it that requires you to wake me up in the middle of the bloody night?’ as he noticed the elf was wringing his little hands in distress. “Is it anything to do with the gentleman you followed tonight?”
“No, Master. Mister ‘Dung left the premises immediately after the meeting. He looked everything over with his dingy little eyes, but nothing accompanied him home in his pockets. Dobby is certain of that.” Dobby hesitated as he looked feverishly at Ginny’s still sleeping form. “It’s Mistress Phoebe, sir, she’s not in her bed and her mother would be most aggrieved.”
“I’m sure Remus or Tonks would prefer if you alerted them, Dobby.”
Dobby nodded his head morosely. “Of course! But their door is warded; Dobby would be overstepping himself if he barged in. Harry Potter does not seal his bedroom with personal magic.”
Harry sighed as he carefully eased himself out of bed and slipped his feet into warm slippers. There was no point in arguing with a distraught house-elf. Remus would just have to give Dobby clearer instructions in the future. He found his quilted dressing gown waiting for him as the elf obligingly levitated it within easy reach. Belting it tightly against the winter chill, Harry soundlessly herded the elf out into the short hallway and down the stairs.
The main area of the house was even colder than the hallway. Harry suppressed an involuntary shiver as he surveyed a surreal world rendered in shades of violet and lavender. Only a quarter moon tonight, he noted by rote.
Now that he was less likely to disturb Ginny, Harry whispered with concern, “Dobby, do you always check up on the children while they sleep? You’re entitled to sleep yourself, you know. Your body demands it and we don’t expect ‘round the clock vigilance.”
Dobby nodded, his protuberant eyes shadowed with misery. “I wake up when one of my charges is outside the perimeter. It’s something house-elves do instinctively. It has not happened before.”
“Where exactly is Phoebe?” Harry posed as he felt the first tingling of unease in the pit of his stomach.
“In the back garden. The walled area that adjoins Master Remus’ suite.”
“Outside in the cold? You just left her there!” Harry gasped. Remus would have gone ballistic if it had been a full moon.
“No! No! Dobby covered her with a warming charm. But it is not wise to wake a sleepwalking child…”
“Then how do they return to their beds?”
Dobby’s large eyes expanded even wider as the error in his reasoning became clear. His tiny chest heaved with a large sob as he anticipated his Master’s displeasure.
“Now, now,” Harry soothed. “Remus won’t eat you alive over this. But we really should go wake him.” Dobby made as if to protest, but Harry insisted, “I’ll take responsibility for knocking him up; you stand watch over Phoebe.”
“Harry Potter is very brave!” Dobby cried in gratitude.
“Rubbish. I’ve just faced Remus down before and lived to tell the tale.”
With a deep bow, Dobby Disapparated to his assigned station, leaving Harry to wind his way carefully among the unfamiliar lumps in the main drawing room. The short hallway leading past the children’s rooms was easier to navigate as it was clear of furniture except for a small decorative chest at the far end which was easy enough to avoid. He didn’t dare light his wand tip and disturb Teddy who was a notoriously light sleeper. Before making the turn at the end of the corridor, Harry sent a silent Muffliato in the direction of the lad’s door as an extra precaution.
The air temperature dropped noticeably as he traversed the long bank of windows lining the hallway before the master suite. The avenue of yew trees adorning the adjacent path had transformed into skeletal hands of deepest black against the night sky, threatening to crush the inhabitants of the wooden house without a spare thought. No doubt about it, if Spook managed to sneak up on him right now, Harry’s heart was likely to seize permanently.
Turning his back on the indistinct shapes that seemed to dwell among the shrubs, Harry raised his fist to knock soundly on the double doors before him. “Remus!” he whispered with his lips pressed to the joint. “Please wake up! Dobby didn’t dare disturb you.”
Almost instantly, Harry heard the padding of feet on the other side of the thick door. Lupine paws creeping stealthily upon their prey, Harry’s overwrought imagination whispered even though it was not a full moon.
Harry nearly lost his balance as the carved door silently opened inward to reveal Remus’ rumpled features. Instantly alert, Remus quickly checked the hallway in both directions before pulling Harry inside and lighting the wall brackets in one swift motion.
“Are we under attack?” he breathed in Harry’s ear as Tonks issued a dreamy sigh before drifting off to sleep once more. Harry looked down at the hand gripping his upper arm like a vise, betraying an inner tension Remus’ carefully modulated voice did not.
“Nothing as dreadful as that,” Harry assured him with a small curl of a smile. “Dobby was afraid to anger you by invading your personal wards.”
Remus’ brow furrowed in bemusement. “When have I ever been cross with him?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, but apparently his former master was less forgiving.”
“Ah, of course. Malfoy taking out his frustrations on the defenseless. How very manly of him.”
Harry broke into a grin at Remus’ sarcasm. “Nor is it a full moon. Any other personal boggarts I don’t know about?”
“Very funny. You don’t strike me as the type to have a midnight yen for Muggle pizza like Sirius, so what’s up?”
“Dobby found Phoebe sleepwalking in the garden,” Harry began as Remus dashed out the door without waiting for anything else. With a weary grimace, Harry grabbed the man’s dressing gown and followed after him.
In the shadowy gallery, he directed Remus through the French doors that opened into a small brick-walled patio. The flagstones glistened like square puddles in the moonlight, the natural variations in the stones giving each a unique shading.
Dobby looked up expectantly and then took a step back as he sensed their urgency. Remus was still shrugging his shoulders into the dressing gown, the ties forgotten and flapping behind him like a set of dorsal wings. Wordlessly, he scooped up the small child curled upon the delicate wooden bench. The effectiveness of Dobby’s warming spell was evident by the pink soles of her tiny feet poking out from under the white flannel.
The solemn procession returned indoors with Dobby trailing dismally behind. His large ears drooped sadly as he conjured Remus’ fur-lined slippers in his long fingers and passed them silently forward to Harry. Tonks was waiting for them at the open doors to the master suite, wrapped tightly in a fuzzy white robe that left most of her legs uncovered.
“What happened?” she whispered as she fell into step beside her husband.
“Sleepwalking,” Remus breathed without turning his head as he marched resolutely down the corridor leading to his daughter’s room. Not another word was spoken until Phoebe was tucked securely into her warm bed and Tonks was satisfied the new proximity warning they’d added to the door would alert them the second her tiny feet crossed the threshold. Phoebe had not stirred during the whole incident other than to snuggle into the deep quilt and curl her hand under her pillow more securely.
Once returned to the welcoming confines of the kitchen, Tonks put a kettle on while Remus addressed Dobby directly. “I’m not mad at you, Dobby,” he admitted in a patient tone of voice. “I was concerned, panic coloring my features more harshly than I would have liked.”
Dobby nodded without looking up from his knobby knees.
“Here, have some tea, Dobby,” Tonks offered as she pressed a child-sized mug in the elf’s trembling hands.
“You should not be doing that,” Dobby scolded immediately, then relented and perched dejectedly on a tall wooden stool. “Dobby is to be replaced?”
“No, it was just a misunderstanding,” Remus soothed. “I’m at fault for not making my wishes known more clearly.”
“Master Remus is not wanting the Spook to slink into his bedchamber at night.” Dobby’s head bobbed knowingly. “Dobby understands.”
“Well, yes,” Remus noted with a sheepish grin. “He’s uncanny enough in the daylight. Can you imagine him at night?”
“Smelling salts all around,” Dobby opined solemnly.
“At the very least!” Tonks supplied with a chuckle. “Why don’t you go off to bed, Dobby? Morning will come soon enough.”
“What if Dobby’s services are needed in the kitchen?” the elf proposed uncertainly.
“The world would conclude that a grown man such as Harry was unable to forage for his own midnight snack,” Remus noted wryly. “His reputation would never recover.”
“Why do I always have to be the scapegoat?” Harry cried with mock indignation.
“Because I’m handier with a ready hex!” Tonks shot back.
“Not that you have any place to hide a wand, cherub,” Remus observed as his eyes washed over her ardently. Wrenching his attention back to Dobby, Remus whispered, “You wouldn’t want to displease me by arguing about your bedtime, now would you?”
With a quick look at the stern faces around him, Dobby Disapparated with a resounding pop.
Harry padded up the stairs to his own bed, the taste of tea with lemon still lingering on his lips. The thick covers had been thrown back and Ginny’s auburn mane was no longer splayed across the pillows. He found her leaning against the window that faced the rear of the house. The cool moonlight streaming through the diaphanous folds of her gown gave her an ethereal appearance as if she had been carved of marble.
The illusion was broken when she inquired, “Crisis averted?”
Harry nodded. “She didn’t even wake up as we tucked her into bed.”
“Remus would have woken the entire village if it had been a full moon.”
“You should’ve stayed in bed,” he whispered as he drew his arm around her waist.
“He won’t be able to get back to sleep,” Ginny observed, her eyes drawn to the indistinct shadows on the back patio.
Following her line of sight, it took Harry’s eyes a few moments to distinguish what had drawn her attention. “What’s he doing out there?” he cried as he recognized Remus’ silhouette seated in one of the garden chairs. The figure turned its face to look up at the heavens after taking a long drink from its mug.
“He’s communing with James and Sirius would be my guess,” Ginny commented.
“He’ll have icicles dangling from his sleeves at this rate!”
“He doesn’t feel the cold like we do. Different metabolism. Or so he told Ron and me when we found him reading a book by the dying embers at the Burrow. Sacred me half to death when I tried to sneak past him.” With a small nostalgic smile, she added, “Luckily, he was usually in the mood for a midnight snack as well.”
“Did that prompt him to go back to bed?”
“Not always, but many times Dad came downstairs himself and kept Remus company. I remember falling asleep many times with a full tummy and the soft drone of their whispered conversation in the background.”
“So this is normal behavior for him, you’re saying?”
Ginny shrugged inconclusively. “Dad told us that the Order members had often been woken to duty in the middle of the night during Voldemort’s first bid for power. Remus, it seemed, learned to jerk instantly awake. Falling back to sleep, however, was a different matter.”
“He hasn’t been able to readjust after all these years?”
Ginny gave him a small cryptic smile. “So Dad claimed; it isn’t necessarily the whole story.”
Harry nodded sagely. If there’s one thing he’d learned, it was that there was always more going on with Remus than he allowed the world, or even his family, to see.
‘Surely, a Healer would--”
“Remus has never been one to just grab a potion from the medicine cabinet, you know that. Not now, not then.”
Had Remus been curled up in front of the hearth, Harry would have hardly been concerned. But it was almost winter, for Merlin’s sake. Instantly, Harry made his decision.
“Go back to bed, Gin. You have a Saturday shift tomorrow, even if it’s just a half-day. I can lie in until noon if need be.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Heat the flagstones for a brainless werewolf!”
“Here, take this,” she suggested as she handed him the afghan she had wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the chill.
Harry ran his hand appreciatively across the soft mohair yarn, the cornflower blue color that so complimented Ginny’s hair muted to an indistinct grey. It had been one of the first things he’d bought her on their honeymoon.
“An overcoat would make more sense,” Harry argued.
“He won’t accept that; but make sure you follow your own advice,” she implored as she gave him a quick kiss.
Harry eased himself out the kitchen door before hastily replacing the nighttime wards. Even bundled in his winter overcoat, the cold seemed to rise from the very ground and work its way past his bare ankles and up the loose legs of his pajamas. He redoubled his efforts to cast a warming charm on the flagstones until he saw the first tendrils of steam rising from the joints. Next he manipulated the Protego charm so it expanded to form a fragile bubble enclosing the elliptical patio area. At least that would help to keep the heat from simply dissipating into the atmosphere.
“It’s not necessary to go to all that trouble just for me,” Remus noted dryly from where he sat at the wrought iron table.
“Self-preservation,” Harry corrected.
“If you were intent on that, you would have stayed inside.”
“If you weren’t such a thoughtless berk, I would have! Here, Ginny insisted on sharing this with you,” he added as he draped the mohair wrap across Remus’ shoulders.
A deep chuckle issued from Remus’ throat as he buried his hands in the soft yarn.
“Reading the stars?” Harry nodded towards the velvety expanse of the night sky before them.
“Never had the pleasure of taking Firenze’s Divination course,” Remus admitted. “You?”
“Only for a few months. Rather had my fill of prophecy, if you know what I mean.”
“Do I ever.” Remus grinned as he directed his wand in the direction of the metal chair Harry was just pulling out. “Didn’t want you to catapult yourself into orbit.”
“My backside thanks you,” Harry retorted as he swung himself into the chair with a small grunt. “Let me return the favor, “ he added as he drew forth a bottle of leftover mulled mead. Easing the cork open, he briefly heated the contents before pouring some into Remus’ empty tea mug.
“Quite an improvement.” Remus sniffed appreciatively at the slowly curling wisps of steam before taking a tentative swallow. “How did I manage to miss this among the refreshments?”
“It was in the wassail bowl.”
“Ah, yes. Where the twins were hovering.”
“Their reputation does precede them,” Harry acknowledged with a dry chuckle. “This was an unopened bottle I found in the kitchen.”
“Self-preservation indeed.” Remus held his mug up in a toast towards the brightest star on the horizon.
Recognizing the unspoken homage to Sirius, Harry’s eyes were drawn involuntarily towards the black chasm on the other side of the patio. The site of his father’s last stand. Or so Bellatrix Lestrange had ranted, although he’d been unable to confirm she’d actually been present on the night of Voldemort’s attack. They had decided against erecting any sort of memorial plaque, preferring to leave the concrete pond cracked and empty in tribute to James’ sacrifice. Despite the dark maw yawning in the moonlight, the pond was no more than a foot deep and was unlikely to be a menace during the day.
“Do you feel more closely connected to those who have gone before or just insignificant before the vastness of the cosmos?” Harry posed.
“Neither. I find the serenity strangely calming. As if, for a few moments, I can slip outside my existence. Does that seem strange to you?”
“You’re being wooed by the moon, my Aunt Petunia would say. Right before launching into an extensive tirade on the origins of the word ‘lunacy’.”
“Despite her Muggle leanings, she might not be so far off the mark in my case,” Remus allowed ruefully. “No potion will ever quell the pull of the moon I feel coursing through me “ even though I choose to ignore it.”
Harry recalled how Remus had once confided that he could always tell the moon phase, without a calendar, without a view of the outside world. He might have been imprisoned in the dankest subterranean cavern for months on end and his bones would still know. With that memory came the realization of why Remus was unable to go back to sleep.
“You’re worried about Phoebe’s sleepwalking, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t have been if she’d stayed inside the house. Andromeda told me Tonks was much the same as a child; they would find her curled up next to her dollhouse in the playroom or cuddling the dog in his wicker basket under the kitchen table. Any place where she could find some solace in the stillness of the night when the world around her didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“What would draw Phoebe into the garden?”
“That’s what puzzles me.” Remus sighed heavily. “And then there’s Spook…”
“He didn’t wake up, did he?”
Remus shook his head grimly. “He’s just so curious about everything, Harry. Every blade of grass, every overturned pebble, nothing escapes his scrutiny. What if he climbs out of bed…”
“He’d have to be a self-levitating cat to climb out those bedroom windows,” Harry attested, visualizing the long row of shallow casements that met the ceiling in each of the children’s rooms. The design was ideal to bathe the room in light without giving rise to unnecessary safety issues.
“What’s to keep him from finding another escape route? Even without a Marauder’s Map.”
Gazing into the hollowness of Remus’ expression, it all made sudden sense. He was recalling that fateful night from his own past when the child had been drawn to explore by the intoxicating rays of the full moon. Harry had never known the exact details, had never felt the need to pry into such a painful memory; yet it was all laid out in the haunted depths of Remus’ eyes. And Teddy was so very like his father.
“It will never come to pass,” Harry confirmed with a vehemence that caught him momentarily off-guard. “The grounds are protected with a Fidelius Charm on those nights; Tonks sets it herself. Who can get past gates they can’t see?”
“James and Lily--”
“Had other enemies; powerful, vindictive ones! In a war that is over, Remus. Anyone who might wish you harm is in Azkaban. And that includes Fenrir Greyback.”
“Even with Tonks as temporary Secret-Keeper, I can’t help but worry,” Remus replied morosely. “They’re protected from the beast outside, but what about the beast within? Ordinary spells just bounce off a werewolf’s hide.”
They’d gone over this many times before, but it was clear Remus needed some reassuring. “In the unlikely event something went wrong with your potion, and in the even more unlikely event that your bones didn’t sound an internal alarm, I promise you none of us would have any compunctions about tossing your vexatious body beyond the confines of the charm.”
“Where I could not turn back and attack anew,” Remus confirmed with grim satisfaction. Catching Harry’s concerned furrow, he added, “You’ll better understand when you have children of your own.”
“I understand enough,” Harry continued in a more modulated tone. “Things won’t seem so bleak in the morning. In the meanwhile, you shouldn’t feel obligated to stand as a lone sentinel against the world at large.”
“Are you planning to leave me to my lunacy?” Remus retorted.
“No. At this point, the term would have to apply to both of us!” Harry insisted as he re-warmed the mead before pouring generous portions into both mugs. Taking a long swallow, he felt the glow spread pleasantly to his extremities. “Though I warn you, I haven’t much practice against an army of heliopaths.”
“They can only attack during daylight hours,” Remus scoffed.
“Are you certain?”
“My delusions, my rules,” Remus shot back with a playful smirk.
“What delusions were you guarding against with all the personal wards on your bedroom? Dobby was thoroughly confused.”
“You don’t set a privacy charm before…retiring?” Remus ventured hesitantly.
“No, but my room is on the other side of the house from yours.”
“And you don’t have children sleeping down the hall, either.”
“No, but even so…Why is this such an issue with you?”
“I forgot once. Sirius ribbed me incessantly.”
“Knowing what he was like in his youth! I’m surprised he wasn’t too preoccupied to listen.”
“It was later…” Remus admitted, self-consciously staring into his mug.
“How much later?” Harry prodded, allowing that the mead had made him more reckless than was strictly polite.
Remus took a long, fortifying swallow before responding, “At Grimmauld Place…I was with Tonks.” Catching the amusement dancing in Harry’s eyes, Remus felt the color rising to his face. “It wasn’t so funny at the time.”
Not to you, Harry thought inwardly. Recalling how Sirius had chafed at being restricted to that dreary townhouse, had the man turned discreetly away from the racy wireless drama playing out in the next room -- or had he pressed his ear to the wall? Of their own volition, the words tumbled out of Harry’s mouth, “It’s a wonder Sirius didn’t demand to be included!”
For the smallest moment, Remus’ eyes registered shock but then he threw back his head and laughed outright. “I suppose Tonks being his cousin was the only thing saving me!”
Harry waited until he was able to catch his breath before venturing, “Is that why you never said anything to me…about Ginny, that is?”
“Why would I? I’ve seen you cast a Muffliato charm hundreds of times!” Remus chortled.
“That’s not what I meant!” Taking a deep breath, Harry amended, “I meant it as a serious question.” Suddenly on the spot, he felt the air leave his lungs without any intention of returning.
“Why does it matter?”
“I suppose it doesn’t….now.” Harry stared down at the wedding band on his hand and berated himself for feeling like an errant schoolboy. “It’s just something I’ve always wondered,” he mumbled.
“Were you expecting me to knock on your door and offer you some pointers?” Remus replied mercilessly.
Harry shook his head in defeat, hoping vainly that the motion would ease some of the embarrassment from his cheeks. Stars, they’d been tiptoeing around the ruddy hippogriff in the room for years, why should it totally unnerve him to acknowledge it? “I suppose I deserved that for the remark about Sirius…” he muttered.
“It was a non-issue, Harry. You and Ginny were both of age and it seemed pointless to condemn you to meeting at the Three Broomsticks when half of this house is yours. I suppose I might have objected if you’d had a revolving door like Sirius once did…But it was clear you were both committed to one another in your own way. Not to mention that I didn’t want to come across as a hypocrite in front of my own children.”
“You think you might have felt differently if it were Teddy or Phoebe?”
“Merlin, I hope not! Tonks would never forgive me if I turned into a desiccated old prune with opinions to match.” Giving Harry an indulgent smile, Remus admitted, “Just so you know, I’d be mortified if you repeated that bit about Sirius overhearing.”
“Who am I going to tell? Tonks was there and it’s hardly the sort of thing I would recount to Ginny.”
“Ron?”
“He’d laugh too much “ and then ask for more details,” Harry admitted with a chuckle of his own. “Best you tell him yourself.”
“Perhaps when we’re old and grey. Snape?”
“I’m not on such good terms with him as you are.”
“Still you have to admit, he’d relish having that sort of ammunition,” Remus considered in a thoughtful tone. “Probably trot it out as proof that I didn’t know when to keep my mouth shut. He’s been doing variations on that theme for years.”
“Really?” Harry sniggered. “A man with so many eccentricities of his own should trend more carefully. What exactly did he say to you?”
Remus shrugged noncommittally. “There was the one time at the teacher’s table when he said something to the effect that I must be at a loss when I’m alone. That I probably talked to myself in the shower. To which I replied, ‘Really, Severus, everyone knows people talk to themselves in the mirror; the shower is for singing.’
“ ‘Spoken like a man who’s familiar with both,’ he replied acerbically.
“ ‘I’m not above humming a bit of Gilbert and Sullivan on occasion. Pirates of Penzance, perhaps.’
“Before he could zero in for the kill, though, his wife, Rolanda, leans over and whispers, ‘Severus prefers Puccini.’
“ ‘Turandot, no doubt.’ I nodded sagely, picturing how hard-pressed he’d be to get those heavy brocade robes to billow menacingly.”
“Madame Butterfly,” Harry supplied with a snigger.
“Tonks whispered much the same as she joined the conversation. It was only later that I realized she hadn’t really said that at all. What she’d said was, ‘A regular M. Butterfly, he is.’” At Harry’s blank expression, Remus elaborated, “M. Butterfly, as in Monsieur Butterfly, is a totally different production. Tonks took me to see it in the West End before we were married. It’s about a clueless French diplomat who has a long-time affair with a dainty Oriental cross-dresser.”
Harry laughed uproariously. “The one where he claims to not have known?”
“Exactly. You can see why people bought tickets simply to fathom how this could be. So there I am in my office, alone, and laughing my fool head off as Tonks’ comment finally hits home. All I can think about is Neville’s boggart coming out of that wardrobe--”
“”only he’s dressed as a geisha instead.”
“A rather unattractive geisha, I might add!”
“No need for the pasty make-up, though,” Harry squeaked out between his laughter. “Remus, perhaps you should share that one with Neville.”
“You think I can trust him not to let on to Snape directly?”
“Perhaps not,” Harry conceded with a humorous twist to his mouth. “What was the conclusion about the diplomat?”
Remus’ face split into the Marauder’s grin. “Language barrier.”
Ginny’s going to think we’ve lost our minds, Harry thought as he doubled up with laughter. Hopefully, she’d heeded his advice to get some sleep and was no longer peering at them through the window sheers.
“What did you add to the wine?” Remus posed as he squinted at the last half inch of golden liquid remaining in the bottle.
“I didn’t drug it, if that’s what you mean,” Harry assured him as he divided the last portion between their two mugs. “Nothing more than a few drops of clove oil. I thought it improved the flavor, didn’t you?”
“Most definitely; but my eyelids are beginning to droop.”
Harry nodded that he felt much the same. “Ginny said her mother swore by it when they were little. Said that bunk about warm milk was grossly overrated.”
“Molly’s unique brand of deviousness never ceases to amaze me,” Remus acknowledged as he rose rather shakily from the table and turned to go back inside the house.
At the door, he turned back to Harry. “Tonks has some fairly graphic manuals if you’d like to borrow them.” With an irreverent twinkle in his eye, he added, “Minerva did promise you could select your own avenues of study.”
Feeling self-conscious all over again, Harry moaned, “Aren’t you ever caught short without a reply, Professor?”
With a self-depreciating chuckle, Remus conceded, “All the time; I just refuse to show it.”
“Let others throw in the towel?”
“Something like that.”