Moonlight

Chapter Fifteen

The Choice



Remus had been nervous at the funeral. He'd had to give the eulogy, and it'd been hard because he'd never been much of a public speaker. He was grateful to have his friends there with him.

It was not his first funeral. His first funeral had been for Sirius' Aunt Arista. That had been Sirius' first funeral too, as well as Peter's, but not James' or Lily's. Lily had already been to the funerals for all four of her grandparents before she had ever heard of Hogwarts. As for James, his first funeral was for his Uncle Everard, his father's older brother, who had been murdered by someone showing their support for Voldemort.

Now Remus stood alone at his parents' grave, which was in the yard beside the Lupins' woodland house. It was summer now. Today Remus had sealed the deal on selling his watch shop to an aspiring entrepreneur who planned to open up her own magical menagerie with her newly obtained premises. Shortly after that, Remus had deposited the money in his new Gringotts account, which he'd acquired the day the Gringotts goblins transferred his father's money into his possession. Then he had gone to see Ramirus at the orphanage. He had even helped one of the medi-witches bottle-feed him. Tomorrow he would be going to James' house and staying there for a week. At first he'd only planned for a weekend visit, but Mrs. Potter had insisted he stay for at least a week, and so ultimately he had consented to stay just that long.

The sun was setting, and Remus knew he really needed to get inside and pack. But for the moment, he was rooted to the spot before his parents' headstone. Below the dates of their births and deaths was inscribed the words:


To know even one life breathed easier because he and she lived is to know he and she truly succeeded while here

Those words summed up all of the love Remus had known in his life. His mother had loved his father despite the fact that he was a wizard. He had loved her despite the fact that she was a Muggle. They had loved Remus despite the fact that he'd been turned into a werewolf. His friends had stayed his friends despite that fact too.

He had little faith that anyone else--save for Ramirus, perhaps--would ever love him that way. Ever.

Heaving a sigh, he took out his wand, and conjured a laurel of roses. They floated into his hands, and he laid them down gently before the grave. "I love you," he whispered, sniffing. Wiping at his eyes, he finally turned and went back into the house to pack his bag.

~

Remus received a surprise when the front door of the Potters' magnificent country home further south opened after he'd knocked. It wasn't Mr. or Mrs. Potter who opened the door, nor was it James. It was, in fact--

"Padfoot?" Remus said incredulously, taking in Sirius' attire.

Sirius leaned against the doorjamb with his arms folded, clad in studded, black, dragon skin robes. He had an impish grin set on his handsome face. "Prongs and I were beginning to wonder, mate."

"Prongs told me you wouldn't be over until later this afternoon," said Remus, stepping over the threshold.

"Well, I kind of just decided to leave first thing this morning," Sirius admitted. "See--" He lowered his voice "--I've officially moved out of my house. Just took off. Just like that. With my bleedin' mother shouting curses after me."

"What do you mean, 'moved out'?"

"I mean the kind where you never go back." Sirius smiled hugely at the idea as he spoke. "'Course, financially I did have a little help from my Uncle Alphard, so I don't exactly live here for free, but it's only to help with the cost of food and such. Besides: the Potters have always loved having me over for Sunday lunch whenever I've had a really bad row with my family."

Remus stared at him a moment, and then smiled. "I'm happy for you, mate," he said, punching Sirius on the arm.

"Cheers, Moony," said Sirius brightly. "Right then. Can I take your bag for you? Your cloak?"

"Er thanks..." Remus said uncertainly, handing Sirius his bag.

Sirius took it and set it down by the stairs. Then he spun Remus around and pulled off Remus' traveling cloak. He hung this up on a hook, then he quickly ran the bag upstairs to James' room and then jogged back down. "How've you been?" he asked Remus more seriously, slightly breathless from exertion.

Remus smiled weakly. "I've been better." He felt something warm, soft, and vibrating rubbing against his legs, and looked down to see James' black Turkish angora cat, Abra, purring and blinking up at him with her amber eyes.

Sirius was staring at Remus fondly, and then, clapping him jovially on the shoulder, said, "Well, then! I know just the thing to perk you up! Come on!" He motioned for Remus to follow him out to the backyard.

It was warm and sunny outside. Remus blinked the sun out of his eyes as they readjusted to the intense light, and saw a pile of odd pieces of metal and rubber in the middle of James' backyard.

James was standing near it. He waved to Remus, grinning. "Moony! You're here! Finally!"

"Hello, Prongs," said Remus.

James put his hand on Remus' shoulder. "You been doing all right?"

This time Remus couldn't help but smile genuinely. "I'm taking it one day at a time."

"Right, now take this one day at time," said Sirius.

Remus and James turned and saw Sirius holding out a small, white, rolled up piece of paper to Remus.

"Padfoot put that away!" James laughed.

Remus laughed too. "When did you start smoking cigarettes?"

(It should be noted here that wizarding cigarettes are different from Muggle ones. Despite the fact that the word "cigarette" derives from a word for "tobacco", wizarding cigarettes are not filled with tobacco: instead, they are filled with wormwood. Now, back to our story.)

"Couple of weeks ago, actually," Sirius admitted. "Come on, try one. It'll give you a nice kick."

"I think I'll pass," said Remus.

Sirius shrugged. "Suit yourself." He held the cigarette between his first and middle fingers. Then he pulled out some Muggle matches (his seventeenth birthday wasn't until August thirty-first, so he still couldn't use magic outside of school).

"Allow me, Padfoot," Remus said, unable to help himself.

Sirius held the cigarette steady, wearing a curious expression.

Remus waggled the fingers of his right hand over the cigarette's tip and thought the words: Leviter incendio! Sparks flew from his fingers and lit up the end of the rolled up paper that contained wormwood, and not tobacco.

"Cheers, Moony," said Sirius, toasting to Remus with his lit cigarette. He stuck it in his mouth and took a sip on it. Then he took it out of his mouth and held it between his fingers as he exhaled, the smoke streaming out of his nostrils. He coughed roughly and hocked a loogie at the ground with a gasp.

"Well, that's one way to die," said James nonchalantly.

From the backyard they heard a knock at the front door.

"That'll be Wormtail," said James. "I'll get it, Pad, don't worry about it. You just get yourself breathing right again."

Sirius grumbled something indistinct as he straightened up again and tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette. Meanwhile he stuck his free hand in the pocket of his black jeans.

"So what's that?" Remus asked, waving his hand at the pile of odd looking pieces of metal and rubber on the ground nearby. "It smells burnt." In fact, it was making his eyes water slightly.

"It's an old Muggle motorbike," said Sirius.

"Think I remember my mum talking about those. What're you doing with it though?"

"Eh. I thought it looked cool, so I took it with me. I found it on my way here, and I thought it'd be neat to tinker with it some. Wouldn't it be cool if I could...er...make it fly?" There was a mischievous gleam in Sirius' gray eyes.

Remus rolled his and said, "You know that's against the law. You'd get in trouble with the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry."

"Ministry Shministry," said Sirius, waving his smoldering cigarette around, still pinching it between his fingers. "Those idiots don't know what the hell they're doing."

"Who doesn't?"

Remus and Sirius turned to see Peter and James striding across the yard towards them.

"The idiots working at the bloody Ministry," said Sirius, taking another drag on his cigarette.

"Padfoot! When did you start smoking?" Peter looked appalled.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh, Wormy, not you too. I started a couple of weeks ago, if you must know."

"Well, you ought to quit now before it takes over your life," said Peter sagely. "It's a horrid habit to pick up."

"I've been under a lot of stress lately, what with running off from home--"

"You've run off from home?"

"Yes. Yes I have. And I'm damn proud of it too."

"Good. So am I."

"Glad to hear it, Wormtail."

"And what's all this rubbish?"

"It's a Muggle motorbike. That's something Muggles ride around on. I guess they're like brooms that can't fly...and are a hell of a lot heavier. Anyway, I found it on my way over here, and I thought I'd tinker with it a bit."

"Padfoot aims to make it capable of flight," said James.

"Oh, I just thought it'd be a neat idea," said Sirius modestly. He finished his cigarette, tossed the stub into the grass, and ground it into the dirt with the toe of his black dragon skin boot.

There was another knock at the door.

"I'll get it!" said Peter. He swiveled on the spot and sprinted back into the house.

"So, where are your parents?" Remus asked James.

"Dad's at work," said James, "and Mum's out shopping. Got an extra mouth to feed now, don't she?" He cast Sirius a significant glance.

Sirius cast another one back. "She's got to feed Moony's and Wormtail's mouths too."

"I suppose you're right. I mean Wormtail's only here for the weekend, and Moony's here for a week--"

"Don't forget, we're staying at Moony's next week!"

"Oh yeah...."

"Hey guys! Look who it is!"

Remus, Sirius, and James all turned, and to their surprise, following Peter over to them, they saw--

"Lily?"

"Hello, James," said Lily rather pleasantly, her hands clasped behind her back, her red hair radiant in the late morning sunshine, dressed in a short skirt and a long jacket. Then she inclined her head to Remus and Sirius. "Sirius. Remus." Her eyes lingered on Remus an extra second longer.

Remus gulped.

Lily caught sight of the broken up motorbike. "Is that--Was that a motorbike?" She was grinning widely.

Remus, Sirius, James, and Peter all exchanged glances.

Then Sirius said, "Yes it is. I'm planning on tinkering with it some. Might make it fly even."

"That's illegal stuff you're doing," said Lily, but she was still smiling. "Where on earth did you get it?"

"Could we discuss this over some cold pumpkin juice in the kitchen?" James suggested, starting to walk backwards towards the house. "I dunno about the rest of you, but the heat's starting to get to me."

Remus did not fail to notice the brief exchange of bashful looks between James and Lily.

~

An hour later, Remus, Sirius, James, Lily, and Peter were sitting around the kitchen table in James' house. They had started out discussing frivolous, teenage matters, but gradually had moved into more worldly topics concerning current events beyond Hogwarts, i.e. the continuing war against Voldemort and his followers.

Addressing Sirius in a serious tone, James said, "Sirius, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I'm starting to have second thoughts about going into the Auror business after we graduate."

Sirius, who was lounging in the chair next to him with his hands folded behind his head, raised his eyebrows. "Really? I've been having second thoughts myself."

Abra meowed and jumped up onto James' lap.

"Fancy that," James said, smiling slightly as he began idly scratching the purring Abra's ears. "And...what have your second thoughts been?"

"I want to hear yours first."

Abra leapt off of James' lap and onto the table.

"Abra!" James scolded. "No! Get off the table! You're not allowed up here!"

But as was the nature of the cat, Abra wasn't listening to her owner. She crossed the round kitchen table to Remus and plopped down into his lap, nuzzling his chin.

Remus laughed as her whiskers tickled him. Fondly he scratched her ears and gently stroked the length of her back.

Abra's tail twitched with pleasure, and her purring grew louder and faster.

"Abra, now look what you've done," James grumbled, rising from the table. "You've gotten hair all over...." He pulled out his wand (his own seventeenth birthday had been on the twenty-seventh of March) and he siphoned up the black hairs that Abra had trailed behind her during her crossing. "Sorry about that. She's been shedding like mad," he said, sticking his wand back in his belt and sitting back down. "Right, so: you want to hear my second thoughts first, Sirius? Is that right?"

During this entire sequence, Remus had observed out of the corner of his eye that Lily had been staring at James fixedly, and James hadn't even noticed, despite the fact that she was sitting right beside him. For the moment, James' attention was locked on Sirius, who sat on his other side.

Leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table and pressing his fingertips together, James announced: "I've been thinking a lot about...joining the Order of the Phoenix instead."

A heavy silence fell upon the five of them, and only the low rumble of Abra's purring could be heard.

James cleared his throat and added: "I was thinking we'd do that, and then, if...we...er...survive...we can always move on into the careers we want to afterward--"

"James, I think you can join the Order and still uphold a career," Peter cut in.

James looked over at him, his eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Of course," Peter went on. "The Order doesn't pay a salary, so an income's got to come in from somewhere. And the Auror business is a place they'd really look into, I think. You know, for recruiting members."

"What's the Order of the Phoenix?" Lily asked, glancing quizzically around at the young men.

"You haven't heard of it?" Peter's eyes went as wide as galleons.

"Of course she hasn't, Peter, she's Muggle-born," said Sirius. "And the Order doesn't like to be out in the open. Very 'hush-hush' operation, you know."

"Operation?" The crease in Lily's brow deepened.

"It's a secret society that Dumbledore himself's founded," James explained to her. "That's what the Order is. It's a secret society formed by Dumbledore himself to fight the forces of You-Know-Who--I mean--I mean V-Voldemort."

Peter clapped his hands over his ears. "James, are you bleeding mad? Don't say his name!"

"Remus says his name!"

"I'm aware of that."

"It's only a name, Peter," Remus said quietly.

For a twinkling of solemn, absolute silence, everyone stared at Remus.

Remus continued to scratch Abra's ears as if he hadn't said anything at all.

Then James said, "Remus is right. It's only a name. If he can say it, why can't the rest of us? Hell, it's because of Voldemort--" Here Peter flinched again--"that I lost my favorite uncle, Everard. He was like a second father to me, you know."

"I second that motion," said Sirius, sitting up and banging his fist enthusiastically on the table.

This loud noise sent Abra flying off of Remus' lap and streaking across the kitchen floor and out into the sitting room.

"From now on, we address the wicked and vile You-Know-Who as V-Voldemort and no other!" Sirius continued, his ability to stay serious rapidly waning. "Now, next item on the agenda--"

"We have an agenda?" Peter asked, recovering from another flinching at the sound of Voldemort's name.

"We do now, Wormtail," said James, grinning as his own ability to stay serious waned a tad.

"Wormtail?" Lily inquired, looking from James to Peter.

"I'll explain later," said James casually, flashing her a suave smile that Remus saw Lily respond to with a blush.

"So, as I was saying," said Sirius, clearing his throat, "next item on the agenda: since we're all so keen on joining the Order, why don't we just ditch our seventh year and join it now?"

"We can't ditch school, Padfoot!" Peter whined. He looked pleadingly around at Remus. "Right, Moony?"

Remus shrugged. "I dunno, Wormy. At this point, I'm more interested in finding out who murdered my parents, and fighting Voldemort and his followers, than sticking around in school for another year."

"Moony, this is a first!" James said incredulously.

"Unfortunately," Remus added with a slight and bereft smile, "only overage wizards and witches are allowed to be inducted."

"Damn!" said Sirius, pounding his fist on the table again. He began biting his nails, visibly itching for another smoke. James however would not be so accommodating as to allow Sirius to smoke inside the house. Partly only because Mrs. Potter wouldn't hear of it.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief and slouched in his chair.

"If the Order is so 'hush-hush', as you say," said Lily, eyeing all four young men again, "then how did you all come to know about it?"

"Parents," said Sirius simply. "Well, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail's parents probably put it in a good light, but as for mine...well, you can guess. To put it lightly my family enjoyed putting the Order on a platter of ridicule and slicing it with knives of derision and slander. But now that I've moved away from all of that, I'm free to speak my mind with you lot. Now, what to do about joining the Order, since obviously we can't join it until we leave school anyway, as Moony pointed out to us--"

"Then I move that we do precisely that," said James. "We join the Order of the Phoenix straight after we graduate. In fact, I move that we postpone our careers as well, because if Wormtail, Padfoot, and I are all in Auror training, I don't think we can get into the Order, because that's considered school."

"But we'd be overage," Sirius argued.

"And how are we going to provide ourselves with income if we don't have jobs?" Peter asked.

"Well, it doesn't matter much to me," said Remus with slight bitterness. "Werewolves aren't allowed to get too many jobs, and the Ministry wouldn't even hear of even considering hiring one."

"I say we should put the Order first here," said Lily. "I think that as long as we're members, they wouldn't leave us out in the cold while we worry about how to establish a reliable source of income."

"See, Moony? We'll take care of you," said Sirius demonstratively, giving him a wink.

Remus was so grateful he could only smile. Clearing his throat rather sheepishly, he said, "I think you should look more into the Order's policy on whether they'll let you lot be members and still undergo Auror training," and then he added with a glance at Lily, "and education in fields of research in the Department of Mysteries."

Lily smiled affirmatively back. "I think you should still do as well as you've always done in school while you finish taking your N.E.W.T. classes for qualification, Remus," she told him. "And I think you and I should still go and apply for internships there. There can't be any change without trying, you know."

Remus swallowed, his smile shaky and nervous, his heart pounding with frenzy as her green eyes bore into his. "I know," he said softly. And then he noticed that there was a difference in her eyes. No longer could he see a faint glow of titillation behind them.... Had her love for him become extinguished forever...?

Well...it was for the best, if it had.

He tore his eyes away from hers, and determinedly avoided them thereafter.

"All those in favor of joining the Order of the Phoenix immediately after graduation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, say 'Aye'," said James imperiously.

"Aye!" said Sirius, slamming his hand down in the center of the table.

"Aye!" said James enthusiastically, laying his hand down on top of Sirius'.

"Aye!" said Lily with equal enthusiasm, laying her hand on James'.

"Aye," said Remus, softly, but with feeling, as he laid his hand on Lily's, trying to ignore the sparks of pleasure that erupted when his skin made contact with hers.

"A-Aye," said Peter with slight hesitation, laying his hand timidly on Remus'.

The five friends looked around at each other, and for a change, Remus became so caught up in this exhilarating sensation of being a part of something, of brotherly affection beyond anything he'd ever thought he might have known, that he didn't notice, nor did he care, that James and Lily were constantly glancing at each other, their eyes bedazzled with growing mutual attraction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Surprisingly, Ted awoke early that morning. It was Tuesday morning, if he recalled correctly. The rest of the boys in the dormitory were asleep, so Ted thought he'd take a break from his father's journals and catch up on his studying. That might improve Rodger's mood, and, more importantly, it's what his parents would want him to do: not dwell constantly in the past, but take time to focus in the present, on his own life.

Still, it was quite amazing how his encounter with the two werewolves had occurred only the night before last, and right now he felt as if several days--perhaps weeks--had gone by since that incident. He almost felt as if maybe he was leading a double life: his own, and then his father's, through his father's journals.

He shook his head, chasing the thought from his mind. He turned to his pile of schoolbooks and took them out and began going over the chapters that he knew he would be tested on during his final exams. As he was going over his defense against the dark arts text, he read over the part about werewolves and Wolfsbane potion. As he was reading about the internal and external effects that it had on the werewolf's lupine state, he realized something.

That black werewolf...the one that had been trying to save him....

Ted tossed the book aside and threw the covers off of himself. He went over to Rodger's bed next to his and shook Rodger awake. "Rodger! Wake up!"

Rodger rolled over and blinked blearily at Ted. "What?"

"I've figured something out," said Ted, barely able to contain his excitement. "That black werewolf--the one that saved me--us--whoever it was, they were using Wolfsbane potion!"

Rodger sat, growing slightly more alert. "How do you know that?"

"I was reading about the external and internal effects of the potion on a werewolf when they take it. And it fits the behavior and outer description of the werewolf that saved me! For instance, I could read the human lying not-quite-so-dormant-as-it-normally-would-have-been in the werewolf's eyes! And it was more in control of its movements, it communicated with me--snapped at me with its jaws to run for it--it was slightly smaller than a werewolf not on Wolfsbane normally is--like the one that wanted to rip me to pieces for instance--and there was less coarseness to its fur than there normally is with a werewolf."

"But Wolfsbane is hard to come by," said Rodger, scratching his head of blond hair now frumpy from being mashed into a pillow all night. "It's not exactly over-the-apothecary-counter, if you know what I mean."

"You're right," said Ted, leaning back against the bedpost at the end of Rodger's bed. He propped one leg up on the mattress, brought the knee of it up to his chin, and wrapped his arms around it, thinking. "He or she must have wanted it for a good reason. I mean you can make it too, but it's a wicked complicated potion to make. Not exactly simple."

"They must've wanted it pretty ba-a-ad," said Rodger, stretching and yawning. When he finished yawning he added, "And the only reason werewolves could be desperate enough to try and get their hands on something like Wolfsbane was if they absolutely had to stay in control for their next transformation."

"Do you think whoever the werewolf is planned it out then...?"

"Maybe.... But then...?"

For a moment, Ted and Rodger looked at each other. Ted could see that his best friend's mind was racing just as fast as his now.

"If whoever this werewolf was had planned it out," Ted said slowly, "then they must have known that the werewolf that was trying to rip me to pieces...actually wanted to rip me to pieces...."

Rodger's smoky blue eyes widened. He gulped and said seriously: "Ted...I think...someone might be...trying to...kill you."

Ted nodded, turning to stare at the window growing pale with the gray glow of early dawn. "Someone who's a werewolf, that is," he said mildly.

"Oh my God, Ted! How can you possibly be so calm about this?"

Ted glanced at the hysterical Rodger over his shoulder, trying to find the words to explain why he wasn't scared shitless that someone--a werewolf no less--wanted him dead. He recalled speaking to his godfather, Harry, about what it had been like for him to find out that Lord Voldemort had tried to kill him when he'd just been a baby, had tried throughout the rest of his existence to kill him. And Harry had told him that while at first it had been a shock to find out that someone had tried to kill him as a baby, ultimately he never found the knowledge "frightening". Yes, the thought had definitely hung over him, but he didn't scream with terror every moment when he carried the knowledge. He'd only screamed and grew afraid when he actually faced Voldemort himself, from when he'd faced him at the age of eleven, to when he faced his sixteen-year old memory/horcrux and his pet basilisk at the age of twelve, to when he'd witnessed him return to power in the graveyard near the village of Little Hangleton at the age of fourteen, to when Voldemort visited him in his nightmares and through their shared thoughts unknowingly at first, to when Harry had faced him again in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. After that however, he said, when he'd gone to face him alone in the forest at the Second Battle of Hogwarts, to later that very morning, when he'd defeated him once and for all in the Hogwarts Great Hall, there hadn't been a shred of fear left inside of him. Ted remembered being in awe of his godfather when he'd told him that--despite the fact that while telling Ted about facing Voldemort alone in the forest, it had appeared as though Harry had been leaving out a huge detail to the story that he was unwilling to share with his godson. Something about between entering the forest and actually coming face to face with Voldemort himself...Ted was sure Harry had done more than just walking....

But it didn't matter now. What mattered was that Ted now drew from Harry's wisdom. He was in no danger at the present, so why should he go screaming like a banshee? So he said this to Rodger, and Rodger gave him a funny look he might have given Ted if Ted had blast-ended skrewts crawling out of his ears.

~

Rodger had opted to roll over and go back to sleep, since they didn't have to get up for class for another hour. Ted, on the other hand, could not go back to sleep. His brain was buzzing with too many thoughts and ideas and musings and wonderings. So, he decided to go downstairs and try to continue studying. Tucking his books under his arm, he slipped out of the sixth-year boys' dormitory and padded down the stone steps in his pajamas, bathrobe, and slippers to the common room. There, at the table nearest the fire, he saw the sleeping form of someone the mere sight of whom--the mere thought of whom--made him smile.

Victoire.

Asleep.

Over her homework.

Poor thing.

Quietly he went over and sat down in the chair beside her. He set his books on the table and rested his chin on them, intently watching her sleep, his smile growing wider with her every slow, even breath, every rise and fall of her gentle, curved back. She too was in a bathrobe and slippers, though he noticed underneath, unlike him, she was wearing a long, silk, periwinkle blue nightgown that reached down to her ankles, instead of pajamas.

She lifted up her head and opened her eyes, looking around confusedly, her long Weasley red hair falling into her face. She blinked at him confusedly when she noticed him there, and then she smiled bemusedly. "Were you...watching me sleep?"

Ted's face grew hot and he glanced away, at the crackling, dying fire in the fireplace instead. "Er...a little bit. I er...didn't want to wake you." He didn't look at her again until she spoke.

"So," she said, sitting up straight and brushing her hair out of her eyes, "Cecilia Bell told me about your and Rodger's little adventure the other night." She cupped her chin in her hand and rested her elbow on the table. Her eyes held a grim a disappointment that Ted found quite ominous--and not to mention a dramatic change from her demeanor a second before, when she'd been all happy to see him. "Why didn't you tell me about it?" she demanded. "How come I had to hear about it from your best mate's girlfriend?"

Ted sat up quickly, his palms turning sweaty. Nervously he shifted his stack of books around and cleared his throat. "Erm...I erm...didn't want to er...worry you."

"Oh please, do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

Ted dared to look her, and saw with horror that she was glaring at him. "Yes," he said, his mouth dry. "Yes, I do."

Victoire's brown eyes narrowed. "Well, it's a really lame excuse. Yes, I would have been worried, but you needn't spare me the pain of it. You do realize I'm not all peaches and cream. I can handle tough stuff. I'm the daughter of a Gringotts curse-breaker who worked for the Order of the Phoenix, and a former Triwizard Champion who's one-quarter veela, you know."

Despite her fury, Ted was finding that it invigorated him to see her this way, and his affection for her only grew. "I'm sorry," he said dazedly.

Victoire continued to glare at him, and then opened up one of her schoolbooks with perhaps more force than was necessary. "Anything else you want to discuss with me?"

Ted snapped out of his daze. He bit his lip, wondering if he should tell her about how someone--a werewolf most likely--had him marked for dead. Well, he wasn't getting all worked up about it--if Victoire was as tough as she said she was, she could handle that. So he told her everything he'd told Rodger. When he finished she'd raised her eyebrows so high that they'd disappeared into her red hair.

"Really now? Is that so?" she said. "A werewolf? Out to kill you?"

Ted nodded, his heart pounding. He just wanted to see her smile at him again. He didn't know how he'd be able to stand it if she kept up with this grumpy, brooding attitude over the fact that he hadn't wanted to worry her by telling her how he'd nearly been slaughtered the night before last.

"You sure it isn't just me out to kill you?" Victoire's eyebrows went--if possible--even higher.

Ted swallowed.

And then a smile crept onto Victoire's beautiful face, and Ted sighed with relief. "Only joking!" she laughed.

Ted laughed along with her, but very nervously. "Heh-heh. Yeah. So...er...are we...erm...? Do you...you know...forgive me...and all that...?" He glanced at her hopefully.

Victoire grinned at him puckishly. "I suppose," she replied softly, sliding her hand over his on the table.

The skin cells of that hand sang a heavenly chorus of euphoria at her touch, and a shiver ran down Ted's spine. He took a hold of her fingers with that hand and gently squeezed them. And she gently squeezed back as they gazed into each other's eyes.

Then hers turned serious. "No more secrets though, okay?"

Ted beamed at her with a sigh. "Alright. Fair enough. No more secrets."

"And one more thing."

"What's that, luv?"

For the first time--but then perhaps it was trick of the dim light of the dying fire in the fireplace--but Ted could swear that he saw her face turn bent with anxiety.

"If there is someone who wants you dead, promise me you'll--God I feel silly saying this but--promise me you won't go--you know--don't do anything stupid. Okay? Just promise me that."

Ted felt his own heart melting at her words. Softly he replied, "I--I promise."