There'll Be Bluebirds

Teddy wrapped his Gryffindor scarf around his neck, tucking the ends into his coat. 'Why are we doing this?'

Harry pulled his mittens over his hands. 'You haven't read any further, have you?'

Teddy's hair flew about his face in a halo of sandy waves as he shook his head. 'No. I didn't want to.'

Harry patted the lump in his pocket. 'You should have. It was rather... Educational.' He had stayed up the previous night, poring over the journal, reading until his eyes burned with unshed tears. He picked up the knapsack on the kitchen table containing an old blanket, a couple of vacuum flasks of hot cocoa, and some sandwiches and biscuits. 'It'll be worth it...' He walked into the snowy back garden, with Teddy trailing behind him. Harry held out his arm, and Teddy gripped his hand tightly, fingers biting into the small bones of Harry's hand.

xxxxxx

The weather had taken a turn overnight and cold drops of rain snaked their way into the hood of Remus' cloak. He stood at the edge of the woods, just behind a tree. He couldn't be seen unless someone actively tried to find him. He pulled the edges of the cloak around himself and leaned tiredly against the tree. He didn't normally sleep much, but ever since his wedding, he had slept even less and last night not at all. The soft creak of the hinges on the back door of the house made his eyes snap open and Dora stepped into the fenced back garden. 'Nymphadora, it's pouring rain,' Andromeda called peevishly.

'I'll just be a moment, Mum,' Dora said tersely. She strode to fence and peered into the darkness. 'Remus?'

Remus edged around the tree trunk and turned to the faint light spilling from the house. 'Here.' He stopped several feet shy of the fenced boundary. 'Ask me something only I would know.'

'Erm...' Dora paused and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. 'What did I write on the flyleaf of the book I gave you for your birthday the year before last?'

Remus didn't have to picture the words written on the paper he kept in the moleskin pouch pinned in the pocket of his trousers. They came easily to his tongue he'd looked at it so much while he tried to ingratiate himself with Greyback's pack. 'Sometimes, you have to travel the depths of Hell in order to recognize the Paradise we seek was with us all along,' he quoted, his hand on the latch of the gate, but Dora's wand trained on his forehead brought him to a halt.

'If I have to ask you something, you have to ask me something,' she said levelly.

'We put Sirius to bed while he was arsed after an Order meeting,' Remus began. 'What did we share?'

'A carton of chocolate ice cream.' Remus nodded and tried to open the gate. 'Not now,' Dora said.

'Why not? You asked me to come back tonight... And we ought to talk about the baby. Our baby,' he added pointedly.

'Shhhhh!' She glanced fearfully at the house.

Remus eyes darted from Dora to the slightly ajar back door. 'You haven't told your mother,' he stated.

'I haven't figured out how to tell her...'

'That is very disingenuous of you, Dora,' he said calmly. 'You're doing everything you accused me of doing last night.' Remus glared at her. 'How have you explained all those Healer visits?'

'Shanti's a friend from school.'

'Really?'

'Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff took classes together, the same way Gryffindor and Slytherin do. Shanti and I had several N.E.W.T. classes together, considering Healers and Aurors need several of the same N.E.W.T.s. We're just not nearly as insular as Gryffindor and Slytherin tend to be. And how did you know Shanti came here?' Dora demanded. 'Did you see her come to the house when you were hiding in the woods?'

'Who do you think helped arrange for her to come and look after you?' Remus steadily held Dora's astonished gaze. She ran a hand over her rain-damp face.

'We need to talk... Come back later, all right? After Mum's gone to bed.'

'When?'

'Midnight.' Dora glanced over her shoulder. 'We'll go inside like civilized people.'

xxxxxx

Remus approached the house warily, wondering if he would set off any sort of protective charms on it. He hesitantly put a hand on the back garden gate and waited for a long moment. Nothing happened, save for a pleasant tingle on the palm of his hand, as the charm recognized him as non-threatening entity. He pushed it open and crossed the wet grass, already-soaked shoes squelching noisily as he did so. He knocked softly on the door and waited nervously for Dora to open the door. She opened it bare inch, one bright blue eye visible in the space. 'How did you learn my middle name?'

'Seriously? We're doing that?'

'Answer it.'

Remus crossed his arms over his chest. 'When I fell asleep on your sofa with you one morning. I'd been reading John Donne. And your parents came to take you to lunch.' Dora nodded and opened the door all the way, and gestured for Remus to come inside. 'Turnabout is fair play, Nymphadora,' he said, deliberately using her given name, just to see the flare of temper in her eyes. 'What did you tell me about yourself just before we left to pick up Harry in July?'

Dora rolled her eyes. 'I can't believe we're even entertaining this farce,' she grumbled.

Remus stayed stubbornly on the other side of the threshold. 'You started it.'

'Oh, all right. I told you I look peaky in black. Are you happy?'

'Unimaginably,' Remus snorted as he walked into the kitchen. He pulled off his cloak and hung it on a hook by the door, waving his wand over it, obscuring his vision in a great cloud of steam that rose from its folds.

'Tea?' Dora asked. One mug already sat on the counter, waiting for the water in the steaming kettle.

'Please.' Remus grimaced. They both sounded stilted, like bare acquaintances. He rested his folded arms on the table and watched as she prepared tea for each of them. 'Should you be drinking tea?' he blurted. 'The caffeine isn't good for the baby...'

'It's mint,' she sighed. 'Mine is mint. Plain, regular, harmless spearmint tea. I have one cup before I go to bed. It's fine.' She sat in the chair across the table and set a mug in front of him. They sipped their tea, silence weighing on them heavily. Remus studied the warm kitchen interestedly. He'd never been inside the Tonks' home before. He thought it might be austere, given what he knew of Andromeda, but the kitchen was painted in soft yellow, with pastel-like sketches of various herbs at the top of the walls. A lamp suspended from the ceiling bathed the kitchen in warm light. Herbs in small pots crowded the windowsills, wreathing the room with their mingled aromas.

'How are you feeling?'

'A little tired. Still nauseated when I wake up in the morning, although I'm told it should go away soon enough. Sausages make me want to be sick, as do eggs.' Her lips clamped together and she took a long sip of her tea. 'I can't button my jeans any more. I'm going to have to get some new clothes soon. I'm running out of baggy shirts, jumpers, or sweatshirts to wear. It's taking more energy to conceal the baby from Mum than I anticipated.' Her eyes glistened and she sniffled, eyes closing. Tears tracked down her cheeks, and Remus offered her his worn handkerchief. She took it and blotted her face. 'And I cry. A lot. For no apparent reason. Luckily, Mum thinks it's because you left.'

'And the baby?'

'So far, everything's normal.'

'Do you need anything?' The sudden tension masking Dora's face gave Remus the idea he had inadvertently asked the question at the heart of the matter.

'I need you to decide,' Dora began softly, her hands wrapped around the mug. 'To be with the baby and me or not.' She raised her eyes to Remus'. 'Hiding in the woods and coming round when you think it's safe for you isn't good enough. We - the baby and I - deserve better from you.'

'Dora...'

'May I finish?' she said calmly, even though a line was plainly visible between her brows. Remus inclined his head in acquiescence. 'I know you didn't run away because you want out or you're feeling trapped. I've heard every variation of your "it's for your safety" line of reasoning for more than two years. And I thought we had moved past it. Somehow, I think if I hadn't gotten pregnant, we wouldn't be having this conversation.'

'Perhaps,' Remus allowed. He leaned back in the chair, sipping his tea.

'But things have changed,' Dora continued. 'And I need to know that I can count on you. You have two options: come back and commit to being my husband and the father of my child, or stay away permanently.'

Remus choked and spluttered on his tea. The bottom of his stomach dropped. 'I beg your pardon?'

Tears filled Dora's eyes once more, and she furiously blinked them back. 'I need you to see yourself the way I do. You're not a monster. Twelve nights out of the year - the year, Remus - you're something other than a man. But ninety-seven percent of the time, you're one of the kindest people I've ever known. You're making this far more of an issue than it has to be. I earned an Exceeds Expectations in my N.E.W.T. for Potions. I've looked up that Wolfsbane potion Sirius mentioned to me once. If you don't care for making Potions, it's difficult, but I can make it. Or you can do what you did before and go somewhere else where it's not populated.'

Remus traced the rim of his empty cup. 'You seem to have given this quite a lot of thought,' he finally said.

'And you haven't?'

Remus toyed with the empty mug. 'Not especially,' he admitted. 'I never once believed I would ever marry, nor have a child.' He set the mug down and squeezed his hands together. 'I should not have proposed. It was a moment of weakness.'

Dora nodded and shoved her chair away from the table. She paced around the kitchen irritably. 'So marrying me was a mistake?'

'I...' Remus self-consciously twirled his wedding ring around his finger.

'Why did you marry me, Remus?' she asked harshly. Remus kept his eyes glued to his clasped hands. He couldn't look at her, or he'd forget himself and all his sense.

'I thought I could be... try to be normal... with you...'

'But you're not.'

'No.'

'Do you think I deliberately got pregnant?'

Remus' head reared back. 'No! Of course not. It would have been a foolhardy decision on your part. Especially considering the war took a turn for the worst. And you're not that underhanded.'

'I could be. I'm half Black.'

'And a Hufflepuff,' he shot back.

'You say that like it's a bad thing,' Dora returned. She let her hands rest on the back of the chair she'd vacated. Remus noticed she still wore her wedding rings, glinting in the lamplight. 'I know the prospect of exposing a child to your lycanthropy terrifies you. But if you're here and a constant presence in his or her life, then they'll be able to see it doesn't control you. That there isn't anything to be afraid of. I don't want to raise the child alone, but I will if I have to.' She plucked Remus' cloak from the hook and held it out to him. 'I won't wait forever for you to decide, but I'd prefer if you chose one way or another before the baby's born.'

'When are you due?' Remus asked, swinging the cloak around his shoulders.

'You haven't figured that one out yet?' Dora said sardonically.

'I can guess,' Remus muttered. He had, in fact, surmised when the baby would be born. 'But I'd like you to tell me.' Because Shanti absolutely refuses to pass on anything other than the bare minimum of details...

Dora collected the mugs and placed them in the sink. 'April first.' Water splashed into the sink. 'That's forty weeks. But it could be earlier than that or later,' she added with a nonchalant shrug turning her back to him so she could wash the mugs. 'It depends.'

Remus reached out as if to touch her, but yanked his hand back. If he allowed himself to touch her, he was lost. So he spun around and left the kitchen, darting into the cold, steady rain.

xxxxxx

4 November 1997

She makes it all sound so easy. Just decide. Stay or go. She's so like Sirius in that regard. Not thinking the consequences to their logical conclusion.

If I stay with her, well, there's no use beating that dead horse into oblivion. She thinks it's going to be so easy. Just leave for the night during the full moon. Not a word about how it might affect her or the child. Just trusting that it will all work out.

And if I stay away... I was there when Harry was born. How helpless and unbelievably small he was. He was brand-new, and his future was full of possibilities and unwritten. It was Lily who noticed I hung back and wouldn't hold Harry. She was the one who sent James and Sirius to bring her something to eat, then motioned for me to come closer once they'd left. She was the one who placed the baby in my arms and told me, just between the two of us, Sirius may well be Harry's godfather, but I was going to need to teach the boy humility. He wouldn't learn it from either James or Sirius.

I remember seeing Harry at the age of thirteen fall into a faint when faced with a Dementor, and I didn't see the adolescent boy. I saw the baby in my arms. And I remembered cradling that nascent life against my heart and thinking I would give anything to see him become a good and decent man.

If I choose to stay away, could I live with myself and the decision to deny myself the opportunity to be to my own child what I always wanted to be with Harry?

xxxxxx

Maurice appeared in the doorway of the attic, and propped himself against the doorframe. Remus glanced over his shoulder and resumed his examination of the waning half-moon. 'You need to talk about something?' Maurice asked.

'Not really,' Remus told him, breath misting over the windowpane.

'Part of being a Healer is you learn to read people. You learn who's lying about taking their potions and who's compliant. You learn to recognize when a patient doesn't need a spell or medicines, that they just need bend someone's ear for a tick. And you've got all the classic signs of desperately needing to talk to someone.' Maurice waited a moment, then left Remus alone.

After several minutes Remus slid from the windowsill, and searched for Maurice. He found the other werewolf in the kitchen, sitting at the table, with a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky, and two glasses, one of which was filled. 'Healing is fifty percent potions and spell work and fifty percent people watching,' Maurice commented, pouring Remus a healthy tot of Firewhisky. 'Drink that.' He pushed the glass across the table. Remus picked it up and sniffed the liquid gingerly, nose wrinkling. 'Don't drink very often, do you?'

'Not really. Wine sometimes... And something like whisky on very rare occasions.'

'Healer's orders. For medicinal purposes,' Maurice said glibly. 'Drink up.' Remus took a cautious sip, coughing a little as it burned its way down his throat. 'I've noticed you moping around here the past couple of weeks, like you've been given something unpleasant to do. You didn't eat much before, and now you eat even less. You don't sleep, because I can hear you pacing the attic at night. There's something on your mind, Remus, and I'll lay odds on you needing to talk about it. But you don't like to rely on other people. You keep them at arm's length, because it's easier than having to allow them to meddle in your life. And being a werewolf for so long's made you quite a solitary man.'

'That's not true,' Remus objected, taking another sip of the whisky. 'I have friends and a wife.'

'A wife you ran out on,' Maurice corrected. 'And friends...? Let's see... Who do you talk about...?' He spread his hands wide. 'And I wouldn't count any of us, because you've not confided anything particularly personal to us for the most part. Aside from admitting you married a girl who loves you unconditionally and she's going to have your child.'

'People in the Order...'

'Would you have confided in any of them?' Maurice swirled the amber-hued liquid in the glass, waiting for Remus to reply. When none was forthcoming, he nodded. 'If you won't even confide in the people you call friends, then what makes you think it would be different with your wife?'

'She's making me choose,' Remus muttered reluctantly, tongue loosened by the alcohol. 'I must decide whether or not I live my life the way I've done for nearly twenty years or to disregard the dangers and be with her. And the baby. All or nothing. No shades of grey.'

'You want to have your cake and eat it, too, lad,' Maurice snorted. 'You want to have it both ways - be with her when you think it's "safe" and take off when you think there's even the remotest chance something might happen. And with babies, no matter what you do, they can and will get into things. Eat rubbish off the floor. Fall from a swing at a play park.'

'They will be better off without me. Without having to constantly protect themselves from me...'

'You're creating a problem that doesn't exist. Unless you intend to intentionally bite your own kid during the full moon. You can't protect them from everything. And some fail miserably, unable to protect their own kids from themselves. I mean, have you seen the way Lucius Malfoy treats his kid? I hear he made the boy become a Death Eater.'

'How do you know that?' Remus asked sharply. 'I didn't think that was common knowledge.'

'It was in the papers after the Ministry fell, wondering if Hogwarts would become an incubator for supporters of You-Know-Who. Poor bugger who wrote that one hasn't published anything since.

'It boils down to this, Remus - do you want to be a father? A real father who does things like put plasters on invisible owies, and chases away monsters under the bed. Who does his level best to teach them right from wrong, in spite of his own flaws. Or do you want to be a sperm donor?' He tossed back the rest of his whisky and set the glass on the table with a soft bang. 'Because it's not about you anymore, is it? It's about the kind of life you want to give your son or daughter.'

xxxxxx

Remus crept into the cemetery and headed straight for James and Lily's graves. He used to come much more often, especially those first few years after James and Lily had died. He lowered himself to the hard, frosty ground and drew his knees into his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He knew what James would have done in his shoes. What James had done. James stayed with Lily, never for one instant thinking Harry and Lily would have been better off without him. In fact, if James had even considered leaving Lily, Remus knew he and Sirius would have given him a good, hard kick in the arse. 'Just like Harry did...' Remus murmured.

Often, he, James, and Sirius had debated just what constituted bravery. Sirius usually said it involved charging ahead at full steam. The situation didn't matter. James was a bit more circumspect. With him, it usually involved putting himself between someone else and danger. Even if that someone else was Severus. Sirius had never been able to forgive James for that one. Remus would argue bravery was taking the unpopular stand - like being friends with a werewolf, he'd reminded them slyly one night. The older Remus got, the more his theory refined itself. Bravery meant putting aside one's own wishes and desires, and thinking of what someone else might need. Admitting that other people were right. James hadn't thought it was particularly brave to go into hiding, but he had to think about his wife and son.

'I wish you were still here, Prongs, old man,' Remus sighed. 'I could really use...' He started to say "a friend", but realized he had friends. Arthur and Kingsley. Although, he wasn't in a position to contact either of them. And perhaps Matthew, Philip, and Maurice. Harry.

And Dora. If she would forgive him for being colossally stupid.

She was right, if he cared to admit it. He had options. He'd been using them his entire life. And Hogwarts. At Hogwarts as a student, Dumbledore had set up a way for him to be around people the other twenty-seven nights of the moon's cycle. And Sirius and James, and even to an extent Peter, although Remus preferred not to think about him, had proved he needn't isolate himself. And hadn't he lived successfully for a year in Hogwarts as a teacher? Certainly, there were provisions in place, and he might have lasted longer than a year, if Severus hadn't still carried a grudge for fifteen years. And with Dora, there would be no reason to hide himself away. She knew about "furry little problem". For the first time since he realized she was going to have a child, he felt like it was something they could manage.

Remus leaned forward and laid both hands on the marker. 'You would both be terribly proud of Harry. He's going to be a good man someday. If he lives long enough, that is. When this is all over, and if we win, I promise, I'll do a better job keeping an eye on him. Like I ought to have done when he was a baby. Not that I could have done much, but still. And I vow to be the kind of father you would have been, James. And when Harry has children, I'll try to help him be the same...' He drew a deep breath, and let his hands linger for a moment longer, before slowly sliding them off the stark white marble. Remus stood up and brushed his hands over his cloak, dusting them off, then Disapparated from the cemetery.

xxxxxx

22 November 1997

One day, I hope to show this to my unborn son or daughter. I can only imagine what they might think of me. Hopefully, I will be with them, to help explain my state of mind.

So. To that end, allow me to say a few things about myself, which by the time you are old enough to read this, you'll have heard, but perhaps in the context of this journal, will make more sense.

I am Remus John Lupin. As of this writing, aged thirty-seven. A werewolf by the name of Fenrir Greyback bit me when I was four years old. Most children who are that young when they receive the bite do not survive. Fortunately, I also received excellent care from the Healers at St. Mungo's. I have grey eyes and sandy-brown hair. Although, it is rapidly turning grey. I recently grew a short beard. Because your mother rather likes it.

I led a fairly isolated life until I started Hogwarts. There, I met two of the best friends I ever had: Sirius Black (who, incidentally, is a second cousin of your mother's) and James Potter. Sirius and James guessed about my lycanthropy during our second year and stood by me until they died. James in nineteen eighty-one, and Sirius in nineteen ninety-six. They were more than friends. They were my brothers. When James died, Sirius was wrongly convicted of a horrible crime, and was imprisoned for twelve years. I withdrew even further into myself, and stayed that way for a long, long time. Until I met the woman who would become your mother. Nymphadora Juliet Tonks. She prefers to be called Tonks. I call her Dora. I fell in love with her from the moment I saw her. She was all that was vibrant and light and nothing I threw at her regarding my condition ever seemed to bother her. She had faith in my when I had none. And I am ashamed to say, she still has more faith in me than I do.

I married Dora on July twenty-third of this year, with just her parents in attendance. It was rather hasty, owing to the gathering battles on the horizon. Actually, given my status within the magical community, I'm not even certain it's a valid marriage. But no matter. I will spend the rest of my natural life with her. And on August third, I did the most horrible thing I could ever imagine. I left Dora. Without even as much as a note to explain why.

I thought I was doing the right thing by her. To allow her to live a life free from my infamy. But that was rather patronizing to your mother, in hindsight. Your mother is a most remarkable woman. She has forced me to see what others have, and I have never been able to. My life is what I choose to make of it. And as such, I will do what I ought to have done all along. Hopefully, I will be able to tell Harry how right he was to want me to stay with your mother.

I am Remus John Lupin. I am a werewolf. And, I am also your father.

xxxxxx

Teddy opened his eyes slowly once the suffocating feeling had faded. They stood in front of his parents' headstone. He stood for a moment, waiting for something. Waiting to feel something. 'They're not here,' he said quietly.

Unperturbed, Harry opened the knapsack and removed the blanket. He set the knapsack down and waved it wand over a patch of ground, siphoning off the snow and spread the blanket over the brown and bent grass underneath. 'Give it time.'

Teddy wrapped his arms around himself and stared at the blue-veined marble, eyes tracing over the names he knew as well as his own. 'It's just cold and it's a lot of bleeding nothing.' He turned to his godfather with an exasperated sigh. 'Harry, this is stupid...'

Harry pulled the journal from his coat pocket and held it out. 'Read it.'