There'll Be Bluebirds

Andromeda knocked on Teddy's bedroom door. 'Teddy, breakfast is ready!' she called. An indistinct grunt was her only reply. 'Young man, it is after nine o'clock, and you are not going to spend your holiday lolling about in bed until all hours of the day.'

The door opened a crack, and a lock of turquoise hair and one sleepy grey eye materialized in the space. 'But the holidays just started, Gran,' Teddy protested groggily. 'Can't I spend one short week doing nothing?' Andromeda seemed to consider the request, and Teddy grew hopeful. His summer holidays were customarily spent doing something constructive with his time, like revising the previous year's lessons a few hours each day so he didn't begin school in September having forgotten most of what he'd learned. 'Besides, O.W.L. results aren't even in yet. And we both know I probably earned a T in Potions,' he sighed.

'Oh, come now,' Andromeda scolded lightly. 'Surely it wasn't as bad as that.'

Teddy rubbed sleep from his eyes. 'Maybe I got a Dreadful. Or managed to eke out a Poor,' he groaned.

Andromeda shook her head. 'Not every witch or wizard is cut out for Potions. Goodness knows your father wasn't.'

'I know,' Teddy grumbled. 'But at least he passed the bloody exam.'

'Language, Teddy,' Andromeda reminded him. She crossed her arms over her chest and studied her grandson. 'Let's make a bargain between us, shall we?' she suggested. Teddy raised an inquiring brow. 'I'll let you sleep until nine, but you have to do all the washing up after breakfast and dinner.'

Teddy's mouth pursed as the considered the offer. 'Hmmm. How about I do the washing up after dinner, and keep the garden tidy? I'm not half-bad in Herbology. I know I got at least an E in it. And if I want to play footie, I'll take myself to the village green or something and keep the football out of your begonias,' he countered.

Andromeda's eyes sparked with laughter. Ted had often bargained with Nymphadora when she was Teddy's age. In his opinion, if Nymphadora felt she had a hand in something like planning her summer holidays, she was more apt to keep up her end of the deal. The results were sometimes convoluted and hilarious, but never once had Dora been out past her agreed-upon curfew. More often than not, she came home early. 'I let you sleep until nine, you make your own breakfast, do the washing up after dinner, handle the garden, and you can have between two and five in the afternoon to do as you please. Revise last year's lessons for an hour before and after lunch. If you do not receive a mark in Potions well enough to continue you may leave off revising for that subject.' She held out hand.

'Agreed,' Teddy said formally, extending his own hand. He solemnly shook Andromeda's, then shuffled into the narrow corridor. 'Good thing I like cereal,' he shot back over his shoulder. 'Whatever happened to that pot from the time I tried to make porridge this past Easter?'

Andromeda shuddered delicately. 'I had to throw it out. I haven't the faintest idea what you did to it, but I couldn't even Vanish what you'd burnt to the bottom, my lad.' She watched Teddy amble down the stairs with the feline grace Remus had possessed, wondering how sixteen years had passed in the blink of an eye. She opened Teddy's bedroom door a little wider and flicked her wand toward his bed. Next summer, he's going to learn how to do this himself, she told herself with a sigh as the disordered bedding began to rearrange itself. Something small and dark slipped from the quilt and fell to the floor with a papery plop. Before Andromeda could stop herself, she Summoned the object with only a twinge of guilt for prying into Teddy's personal things. When it landed into her outstretched palm, Andromeda recognized it instantly as the last journal Remus ever used. She'd packed it away without looking inside once she'd been able to bring herself to enter the bedroom Nymphadora and Remus had shared after their deaths. Furtively, she flipped through the pages, discovering just under half had been filled. She Banished back to sit neatly on Teddy's bedside table.

XxXxXxX

Dinner was a somber affair. Every meal for the past three days followed a similar pattern: Andromeda doggedly prepared a meal that none of could manage more than a mouthful or two. Dora dutifully pushed the food around her plate, choking down a bite or two when Remus or Andromeda reminded her she needed to eat for the sake of the baby. Andromeda moved silently around the kitchen, unless she was reprimanding Dora for not eating. In his worry for both his wife and her mother, Remus couldn't manage to eat more than a few bites himself, but he was quite used to deprivation. At this particular juncture, he wasn't important. After the baby was born, after the war was over, if he managed to survive it all, then he could worry about himself so at the very least, his son would have a father for as long as Remus lived. Remus looked up from his soup and cleared his throat. It sounded grating in the quiet kitchen, amid the sounds of rain trickling down the windows. Dora and Andromeda glanced up from their untouched meals. 'If the two of you do not mind, I thought we could make the news of Ted's...' He gulped. 'Death,' he added nearly inaudibly. 'Public.'

Andromeda's eyes blazed with something Remus had never seen before. 'Do,' she said shortly. Her mouth worked for a moment, as she struggled to gain control of her emotions. 'Ted had no enemies, save the Death Eaters and blood purists. The more people know of their atrocities, the more we have for our side.'

The corner of Dora's mouth quirked upward in a phantom of a smile. 'Mum, do you honestly believe there are witches and wizards who aren't aware of what Death Eaters believe or are capable of doing to other creatures?'

Andromeda blinked. 'Of course not,' she said, with an arch of her brow. 'However, your father would want people to know they were responsible for his death.' She stirred her soup, but didn't raise the spoon to her mouth. 'How do you propose to make it public knowledge?' she asked Remus.

Remus shifted uneasily in his chair. 'Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies,' he demurred. Andromeda's brow lifted a peevish brow. He knew she tired of the constant dancing around a topic and secrecy. The less he voiced aloud, the better it was for all of them involved. If he did not actually say his plans, then Andromeda and Dora could both deny that they'd actually heard Remus say something about his plans.

Dora lifted her head from her the careful sculpture she had been making of her peas. Potterwatch? she mouthed. Remus nodded in affirmation. When? she asked.

Remus mouth tightened, but he held his thumb and index finger together over his left wrist and made a single circular motion. One hour. Some of the Order members had learned some rudimentary signs from British Sign Language, counting on the fact it was a Muggle means of communication, and therefore unlikely to known at all among the Death Eaters. Andromeda's eyes flicked to the wireless on the dresser and they widened in an unspoken question. Remus held up a hand, palm facing out, fingers slightly spread apart. Five. Five letters. He would tell her the first and last letters, nothing more. He kept his left hand aloft, turned it sideways a bit, fingers together, and the thumb sticking out. His right index finger lightly touched his left thumb, while the other fingers curled against his palm. A. His left hand twisted in midair, creating a loose fist, with the smallest finger upright, palm upright. The right hand made a mirror image, save the palm faced down. He brought the smallest fingers of both hands together, right finger resting atop the left. S. Remus pointed his wand at his plate, Vanishing the food. 'I'll be back soon,' he said aloud, shattering the silence. 'Don't wait up for me.'

XxXxXxX

'Might be one of the most listened to programs since we started Potterwatch,' Fred murmured, in a knot with Kingsley and George. 'Easter holidays started today. More freedom to listen to the wireless.' Fred glanced at his watch. 'Train came in at six, and most of the students should be at home by now.'

'Dare I inquire?' Remus approached the small knot of people in Muriel Prewett's back room where they broadcast Potterwatch.

Fred dipped a hand into his pocket. He withdrew a Galleon, similar to the one in Remus' pocket, and handed it to him. 'D.A. Alive and well. And no unnecessary risks.'

George smiled slyly. 'We send out the date and time of the program via the D.A. coins. The ones that are still in school pass it on to people they can trust. Word spreads. There's a good reason why Kingsley borrowed the idea for the Order. It's pretty innocuous.'

Lee slipped through the door. 'Let's get started,' he said with a wide grin, his teeth glimmering in the semi-darkened room. He quickly assembled his equipment, and began the program, right on schedule. Remus sat to the side, letting his thoughts wander, keeping half his attention on the ebb and flow of the program, wondering just how he would attempt to communicate his apologies to Harry, to tell him how much he appreciated the push - or rather shove - to rejoin his family. He leaned forward when Lee gestured to him, and Remus began his familiar assertion that Harry was still alive, and the most important symbol against the fight with the Death Eaters. Lee tucked an errant lock behind his ear. 'And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?'

Remus automatically replied, 'I'd tell him we're all with him in spirit,' he said. He glanced down at his hands, twisting his wedding ring around his finger. How many times had Harry had a hunch the rest of them dismissed, because of Harry's age, even though he'd been through as much, if not more, than most members of the Order? Harry, in some ways wise beyond his years, had known exactly what to say to Remus, to shake him from his torpor, to make him see the error of his thinking. 'And I'd tell him to follow his instincts, which are good, and nearly always right,' he added, hoping Harry was listening, especially tonight. Remus sat back in his chair and let Fred take over. His head tipped back against the slats of the tall ladder backed chair. Let them be safe.

21 March 1998

One of the most difficult things to do as a parent is to watch your child grow up. As a teacher, one has a tendency to view their students -- even the ones that are not the most astute of scholars -- as "yours". If you taught them as a younger student, the image of them with round cheeks, bright eyes, and a seemingly unquenchable thirst to explore their world lingers in your mind. It does rather hamper the ability to see them as adults with the full facility to make their own decisions. You often struggle to see the adult under the memory of the child.

It happens to parents, as well. Molly Weasley is the foremost example. I do not say this to slight her, as Molly is one of the best witches I've had the pleasure to count as a friend. She is a firm believer in protracting childhood as long as possible, and that is not a bad thing. Not really having had one myself, I can appreciate her efforts.

Childhood is an ephemeral gift. If you are lucky enough to experience one, try to revel in that brief moment where every day is a new adventure. It slips through your fingers so rapidly that one morning you'll wake up and face that greets you in the mirror will be unrecognizable as yours. That does not mean that you can use your age as an excuse for every ill-advised decision you might make. You will be held accountable for them, once you are of an age to understand the difference between right and wrong.

And your childhood begins soon. I cannot wait to be a participant for as long as you'll allow it.

XxXxXxX

Remus cradled a cup of tea between his hands, letting its warmth seep into his palms. He took a slow sip and closed his eyes in the momentary bliss as the sweet liquid slid down his throat. He glanced at the clock ticking softly from its place on the dresser on the other side of the kitchen. It was just after five-thirty in the morning, and the sky outside the window had begun to brighten with the coming dawn, while birds twittered sleepily from the woods. The rest of the house was still and quiet.

It was Remus' favorite time of day.

Even when he had been in school, Remus was an early riser, reveling in the stolen hours alone with a book and a cup of tea, tucked into a corner of the common room before anyone else was awake. Now, as much as he loved his wife, Remus relished the solitary hour he spent alone, knowing they would become rare occasions when the baby arrived.

He turned his head to the window, leaning back in the chair, watching the deep orange streak across the horizon grow a little wider with a sense of contentment. While most people found the moon a magical - if not romantic - sight, Remus, for obvious reasons, preferred the rising sun. He set the cup down, picked up the open copy of King Lear resting on the table, and extended it until the print swam into focus. A rueful smile tipped the corner of his mouth, as he reminded himself once again that he would need glasses for reading when things settled down. After the baby was born. After the war ended. After they won. It had become a litany he repeated to himself at regular intervals during the day as a personal Liturgy of the Hours.

A soft knock sounded on the back door of the house, and Remus sprang to his feet, wand in an outstretched hand. 'Identify yourself,' he demanded.

'William Arthur, known to all as Bill Weasley, husband of the former Fleur Delacroix,' Bill called softly through the door. Remus hesitated for a moment before opening the door a bare inch, and flicking his wand at the trees. The woods remained dark slashes against the pearly grey sky, with no warning flickers of red to indicate the presence of another person. He stepped back and admitted Bill into the kitchen. 'Sorry to call so early,' Bill said as he slipped his coat from his arms and hung it next to the door on a hook.

'Quite all right,' Remus assured him. He gestured to the Andromeda's large teapot. 'Can I pour a cup of tea for you?'

Bill's mouth twisted as he gazed at the steaming teapot. Shadows under his eyes prompted Remus to summon a cup, fill it, then press it into Bill's unresisting hand. Bill quickly added a touch of sugar and sipped the hot tea gratefully. The cup half drained, Bill exhaled slowly. 'There's news.'

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, and Remus felt the bottom of his stomach drop. 'Oh?' he forced himself to reply with affected casualness.

Bill studied the surface of his tea with an inscrutable expression. 'Harry's at Shell Cottage,' he breathed. 'He arrived last night with Ron, Hermione, Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood, Ollivander, Griphook, and...' Bill trailed off and looked out the window. 'Dobby.'

A coil of tension released itself, and finger of cheer stole through the knots of cold apprehension that had taken up seemingly permanent residence in Remus. He passed a shaking hand over eyes that were suddenly wet. He was so overcome with relief, he hadn't noticed Bill's hesitation before mentioning the elf who was probably as devoted to Harry as he detested the Malfoys. 'Oh, thank God.' He blinked rapidly and took a calming sip of tea. 'How?'

'I can't really say,' Bill admitted. 'Dobby brought Dean, Luna, and Ollivander, before rushing off before you could say hello. Not too much later, Harry showed up in our front garden with Ron, Hermione, and Griphook.' Bill carefully set his cup on the table. 'And... and Dobby. With a knife in his chest. He didn't survive.'

Remus' head bowed, and his eyes fluttered closed. 'Resquiescat in pace,' he murmured. They sat in silence for a long moment before Remus roused himself slightly. 'How are the others?'

'They don't look well,' Bill said shortly. 'Out of the eight of them, Ollivander's in the worst shape. None of them have had a decent meal in ages. Ollivander's nothing but skin and bones. Griphook's legs had been broken. Hermione was unconscious when she arrived. She had a few broken ribs, cuts, bruises, and one arm was broken in three places. I managed to wrest a few details from Ron, and he said Bellatrix tortured Hermione. He muttered something about a chandelier falling on her. Luna's bruised and battered. Dean got knocked around a bit during his stint in captivity. They all need long, hot baths, a decent meal, rest, and more decent meals, in that order,' he said.

Remus looked down at his hands, clenched into fists on the surface of the table. He unfurled them and spread them flat, bracketing his cup. 'When were they captured? And who did it? Where did they take them?'

Bill took another steadying sip of his tea. 'Greyback,' he said succinctly. 'He hadn't harmed any of them yet, thank Merlin for small mercies. He was with a couple of Snatchers, and they'd captured Dean and Griphook a just a day before Ted's body was discovered. He stumbled on Harry, Ron, and Hermione night before last because Harry's always insisted on referring to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named by his adopted name instead of You-Know-Who or his given name.'

'And since it's been made Taboo,' Remus began. He didn't have to finish the thought, as Bill nodded grimly.

'He took them all to Malfoy Manor.' Bill ran his fingers through his hair, loose upon his shoulders this early in the morning. 'I still haven't the foggiest idea how Dobby knew they were there,' he mused. 'But I'm damn grateful he did. At any rate, they're safe for now. Hermione's talked to Fleur a bit, and alluded to Bellatrix offering her to Greyback as a reward for his work that night.' Bill shuddered visibly. 'Somehow, I don't think he would have been content with merely mauling her.' Remus' breath caught as he recalled his early days attempting to infiltrate Greyback's pack. He didn't disagree with Bill, knowing that Greyback's assault on Hermione, especially since the moon was no longer full, would have most likely included rape. Remus' stomach cramped with nausea, and he took several deep breaths to tamp it down.

'At least we know they're safe,' Remus finally managed to say. 'For now.'

'For now,' Bill repeated, a bit hollowly.

23 March 1998

Always the innocent are the first to suffer in times of strife, and the least deserving of it. It always has been, and always will be, I fear.

I ought to tell you how I came to be a werewolf. In all honesty, I don't quite know all the circumstances. I only know there was an altercation between my father and one Fenrir Greyback -- a truly vicious werewolf who has done nothing to improve the reputation of our kind. No. Not our kind. I don't count myself among his ilk. He is categorically one of his own kind. All I know for certain is my father -- John Lupin -- drew the ire of Greyback on his head for some reason or another. Greyback did not exact revenge on people he perceived to have wronged him. He attacks the ones closest to them. I was only a small child when Greyback bit me. My mother and father had taken me to the sea for a holiday. I can still recall the wonder I felt when I saw it and the taste of the salty breeze on my tongue. My father had built a fire in the shelter of an alcove in a cliff. My mother held me in her arms, and I felt secure and warm. The only other clear memory I have is the sensation of being ripped from her embrace, followed by agonizing pain.

Things were never the same. My mother never recovered from the shock. She was quite unwell from that moment until the day she died. Her illness gave lie to the convenient excuse that I had to visit her in hospital when I was absent from Hogwarts during the full moon. She died just weeks after I completed school. My father followed her in death soon after. I was kept isolated from other children, with only books for company until the day Albus Dumbledore arrived to make arrangements for me to attend Hogwarts.

And sadly, my son, you will suffer as well, for something that occurred decades before your birth. Perhaps your children or grandchildren will be able to escape the stigma.

Remember -- you are blameless. As was I.

XxXxXxX

Teddy glanced out of the kitchen window once more, hoping to see the owl on the horizon that hadn't been there thirty seconds before. His fingers drummed a restless tattoo on the table.

Andromeda's shoulders rose a notch with each muffled tap of his fingertips against the tablecloth. 'Teddy, get out of the house,' Andromeda ordered with a barely suppressed irritable sigh.

'What if the owl comes with my O.W.L. results?' Teddy shot back.

Andromeda scooped up Teddy's textbooks and scrolls and deposited them on the dresser. 'Owls being what they are, it will find you.' She pointed her wand at the back door and it swung open. 'Out with you.'

'Fine,' Teddy huffed. He shoved his chair back and slouched toward the door, nearly colliding with the owl streaking through it. The owl flapped its wings frantically in the attempt to stay aloft. It all but spat the envelope in its beak on the table before it soared from the kitchen through an open window, screeching at the indignity of such a delivery.

Teddy hadn't moved from his stance in the doorway. He stared at the envelope sitting on the table, his name inscribed prominently in elaborate script, with a feeling that if he left it alone long enough, it would burst into flames. Teddy walked to the table, reaching out with a hand that didn't seem to belong to his body. Without a word, he marched out of the house, the letter clutched gingerly between damp fingers. I just want an Acceptable, he told himself. Just an Acceptable. I don't want the be the only member in my family to fail a subject. He found himself outside the low wrought iron fence surrounding the cemetery containing his parents' graves. Teddy pushed the gate open and walked to the large tree whose overhanging branches sheltered the blue-veined marble headstone. He folded himself to the grass and leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, pausing to take a deep breath. Teddy distantly noted how his hands shook as he broke the dark purple wax seal and slid the single sheet of parchment from the purple-bordered envelope. A shuddering breath escaped from his lips, as his eyes traveled down the page.

Astronomy -- Acceptable

Charms -- Outstanding

Defense Against the Dark Arts -- Outstanding

Herbology -- Exceeds Expectations

History of Magic -- Poor

Transfiguration -- Exceeds Expectations

Muggle Studies -- Outstanding

Teddy's eyes closed briefly before he looked at the very last exam.

Potions -- Acceptable

XxXxXxX

A/N: In reality, Easter was on April 12 in 1998. JKR had the Easter holiday begin on March 21. So, as in a few other occasions, I've deviated from reality to keep in line with the Potterverse.