In Harmony

James thought it was odd, that after nearly seven years of knowing Remus Lupin, he had never once been to his house.

This was Remus after all. The only reason any of James' homework had actually been handed in (or started for that matter.) Remus, who thought nothing of staying up all night to help Peter study, and who regularly, dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over Sirius to wake him up. James had done a piece of highly dangerous and illegal magic for the guy, and did not know the colour of his kitchen walls.

The world was a strange place.

James knocked on the door, feeling a bit nervous. Remus, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew were the best friends James could ask for, and they were all like four pieces of the same puzzle. And puzzles were rather odd with only two pieces. But Sirius was visiting his cousin Andromeda and Peter's mum was sick, so it would only be James and Remus today.

The door was opened by a tall boy of seventeen, with light brown hair and bright eyes. "Moony!" cried James, hugging the boy enthusiastically. "It's been too long, mate."

"It's been two weeks, Prongs," said Remus with a smile. "Besides, don't you live with Padfoot?"

James stepped inside. "Exactly," he said nodding. "Padfoot. I do long for intelligent conversation every now and then."

"Intelligent conversation," muttered Remus, as he closed the door. "What I wouldn't give for some of that."

James pretended not to hear him by looking around. The Lupin house was an organized mess, to say. Pictures and shelves lined the walls, with books and knickknacks in every corner. It looked...lived in. It was very comforting.

In the kitchen (the walls were a pale yellow with a flower pattern), was a figure James recognised. Mrs. Lupin had the same brown hair as her son, hers in a loose bun with a few streaks of grey. She greeted James warmly.

"I'll leave you boys to it," she said. "I'm just going to the village to pick some things up. Keep the house in one piece, try not to make too much of a mess, and under no circumstances are you to touch the cookies in left cupboard."

Remus grinned. "Thanks for telling us where they are, Mum."

Mrs. Lupin's expression was stern, but her eyes twinkled. "I know exactly how many there are and the spell needed to open the cookie jar."

She left, and Remus turned to James. "So what do what to do?" he asked James.

"I dunno..." James looked around. The kitchen led to a living room, which was painted to same shade of pale yellow. "Is that a piano?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Yes, James, that is a piano." The wooden upright rested against the wall of the living room.

James walked over and pressed some random keys. "Can you play this?"

Remus shrugged. "A little."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Prove it."

"Must I?"

"Yes."

Remus sighed and sat down at the piano, placing his fingers over the keys.

He began to play.

The song was beautiful; it gave away his friend's false modesty in complicated terms. It was probably an example of a thousand weird music terms that James didn't know. James didn't mind. As it was likely meant to, the melody spoke to something he held very dear. It carried emotions through pure sound. When Remus reached the last notes, James could only think of one word to describe it.

"Lily."

Remus stared at him. "The song reminded me of Lily," said James.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Prongs, there are a lot of things that remind you of Lily. I believe the most impressive one to date was a coat hanger."

"It was the same colour as her eyes," said James defensively. "What was the song called, anyway?"

Remus suddenly became very interested in the floor tiles. "It...doesn't have a name," he said as casually as possible.

"Who writes a song without naming it?" James demanded.

"I wrote it."

Remus dared to look up from the fascinating layout of floor tiles. James looked incredulous. "Moony," he said at last, "how in Merlin's name did you mange that?"

Remus smiled. "With a mum who made me practise and far too much time on my hands."

"You should name it though," said James. "It could be called...the love song!"

"And why," Remus said as if he possessed all the patience in the world, "would anyone name a song something so embarrassing, cheesy, and clichéd?"

"Because that's what it is," said James, as if it were perfectly obvious. "A song that reminds people of their true love."

Remus knew at once where this was going. "She's not even your girlfriend yet."

James grinned. "Not yet."

"Keep dreaming, lover boy."

~*~

"Please don't tell me this song reminds you of James."

"It does, actual-" Lily began, and then stopped. She leaned back against the couch. "Do I want to know?"

"Not really." Remus fingers floated over the keys. "I hated this piano more than anything in the world when I was a kid. Sometimes, I placed it as worse than a full moon."

"But you're really good," Lily pointed out.

Remus shrugged. "With all those hours of practise, something that I hated became something I loved."

"Sort of like James and Sirius," Lily mused. Remus raised his eyebrows. "They're as annoying as Peeves on April Fools Day," she explained, "but spend enough time in their company and you learn to love them."

Remus chuckled. "Be warned, Lily. Once you marry James, there is no turning back. You will officially be family in Marauder terms."

Lily gasped dramatically. "The horror!" she exclaimed, before giggling.

"You can laugh," said Remus in mock seriousness, "but take it from a man who spent seven years in dorm with James Potter and Sirius Black."

~*~

The door gave a heavy groan as Remus pushed it opened. When he closed, clouds of dust made him cough and sneeze. It had been far too long since he had returned here. Not that much had changed. True, the wall paper was starting to peel in some places and the stairs could use a bit of paint, but the pictures on the mantle piece still waved at Remus, a familiar timeline.

Remus stepped into the living room. There it was, leaning against the wall. He sat down on the piano bench, placed his foot on the pedal, and lifted the fallboard. Remus closed his eyes, and rested his fingers on the keys.

He began to play.

It had been years since he had played this song, but he remembered it perfectly. His fingers danced across the keyboard. The old piano was a little out of tune, but that didn't matter. When the last note flew through the air, he opened his eyes. One word came to mind.

Nymphadora.

"You were right James," he muttered. "It is a love song. Cheesy, clichéd and overall downright embarrassing; aren't those all part of love?" In his mind, Remus could see James' face, smug at the thought of actually being right.

For a change.