The Nightmare's Just Begun | Lupin's Cottage | Charlotte

[Remus Lupin]

the morning after fenrir + remus

When he had woken up in the morning, he was tired. His surroundings weren't familiar, and he had panicked. He could hardly remember the night before - an effect of skipping the Wolfsbane potion - and he wasn't sure if the blood on him was his or not. Fenrir wasn't around, but Remus was alive. Which had to mean that at least part of the night had gone well. Standing up, he brushed the dirt from him where he could, trying to ignore the cuts and bruises he could feel. His muscles were aching, and he wanted nothing more than to go home.

Watch your thoughts.

It took him at least an hour to find the spot where he had hidden clothing before going into the forest (and wandering around for that long naked was quite enough for him, thank you), and he pulled them on hastily. He hadn't had a chance to let Charlotte know that he had gone on the mission, and he knew she had to be worried. He had no idea what time it was, only that the sun was out and he was alive and he was going home to his wife. Of course, he couldn't wander down their street like this, so he would need to apparate into the forest behind their cottage and hope for the best.

Luckily, he didn't split himself into pieces. He was as put together as he could be. He wanted nothing more than for Charlotte to still be asleep, to not have to see him like this. But the chances of that were unlikely. Running a hand through his hair, he looked down to see more blood. Fantastic, he'd hit his head at some point. He limped to their back door, letting himself into what he hoped was an empty kitchen.

But it wasn't. Forcing a smile, he looked at his wife sitting there. "Hey char..."

[Charlotte Fudge]

Perhaps she was imagining it, but as she sat in their little kitchen, Charlotte would've sworn she heard a muffled pop of an apparition. But even if she was imagining it - not unlikely, given that her on-and-off sleep in an armchair hadn't made this morning one of her usual alertness - that didn't mean her heart didn't start to race. Her muscles tensed, and she couldn't look out the window as the seconds ticked by, marked by the cuckoo clock (which she still wasn't sure hadn't been a gag gift, but one wasn't supposed to question wedding gifts, right?). She instead stared into her tea, body rigid, as she waited.

Because - yes - if she hadn't imagined the pop, that meant her husband could be back any moment.

But - dreadfully, achingly so - if she hadn't imagined the pop, that could also mean a representative from the Order was here instead to deliver news she wasn't prepared to handle the aftermath of.

When Remus had left the day before to speak with Dumbledore about the wisdom of the mission, she'd been tentatively hopeful that he would return before long, having successfully persuaded the Leader to see that this wasn't the best course of action. She'd played their conversation out in her mind, trying this tactic or that, feeling that he had a good chance of it - even though Dumbledore wasn't known for making poor decisions, surely his ego wasn't big enough to see reason and backtrack!

A line she found herself thoroughly in agreement with, which she hadn't ever thought would apply to her old headmaster, had often come to mind during the night, and caused some rather disorienting thoughts. (Reading war novels to try and better understand thought processes had become habit when Remus was away.)

The enemy is anybody who's going to get you killed, no matter which side he is on.
- Joseph Heller, Catch-22

As the hours passed, her tentative hopefulness dissipated with them, and she turned to her work to try and keep her unhelpful thoughts about her husband's situation at bay. While he had been on missions before, and had been a member of the Order for years now, she hadn't ever felt a dread like this. With everything else, he'd been with a group, he hadn't had to lie, he hadn't been forced to come face-to-face with his demons.

One of the worst things was, if the night had gone well, if he had made progress with Greyback and his pack - that meant that this was only the beginning. And so hoping that it'd gone according to plan left a sour taste in the back of her throat, because while he would be coming home safe (relatively speaking), he'd have to do this again. For an indefinite number of moons. How could anyone stand to put him through that?

Footsteps on the back porch, the slight squeak of the back door giving way, forced her to look up from her tea. And with an overwhelming relief - that dread still an underlying thing she couldn't shake, though - she saw it wasn't anyone other than her husband. No Captain coming to tell her that he hadn't shown up, that they couldn't find him, that they had found him and he was in no shape to come home, that they'd found his body -

She mutely - feeling too much to trust herself to speak - and abruptly got up from her seat as he spoke her name, bumping into the table and causing her mug to spill as she did. But that didn't matter, it didn't. She could see he was hurt, blood was caked in odd places and seeping out of others, bruises had discolored his skin, and she threw herself against him anyway, arms coming around him in a firm embrace. He was hurt - and more than what she could see, Char was certain - but he was here.

She took a few moments - or minutes - to hold and be held, needing to feel him against her, feel his chest move with each breath, to be reassured that he was here with her. After a time she kissed him gently and put her heels back onto the floor, toes protesting from supporting her. While it was certainly implied, she spoke quietly anyway. "I'm so glad you're back."

[Remus Lupin]

He took the time to look over his wife, to take in the small little signs that would let him know how her night had been. There had been no chance for him to return and let her know of the outcome of his conversation with Dumbledore. And he had hoped that his old Headmaster would let her know, but it was clear by the look in her eyes that she hadn't known who to expect walking in the back door of their house. She stood abruptly when he said her name, whatever in her mug spilling onto the table. But none of it mattered, what mattered is that he was home. That he had made it through this first night and that he could come home to see the woman he loved.

It was only a few seconds before she was in his arms, and he held her tightly, ignoring any pain that he felt. Her clothes would be dirty after this - but he knew she didn't care. What mattered right now was that they could have this moment. He could hold her, rest his lips against her hair and stroke her back as they stood there together. After a few minutes she looked up and gave him a kiss, before slowly pulling out of his arms.

He brushed her hair from her face, giving her a smile. "I'm glad I'm back too. I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell you sooner that I wasn't able to convince Dumbledore to change his mind." Moving away from her, he went to the sink and turned on the water, determined to at least wash the dirt and blood from his hands before he continued to get it everywhere. "It looks worse than it is. Nothing more severe than a normal night without my potion."

[Charlotte Fudge]

"You have a morbid aversion to dying. You probably resent the fact that you're at war and might get your head blown off any second."

    "I more than resent it, sir. I'm absolutely incensed."

- Joseph Heller, Catch-22

Charlotte wondered for the umpteenth time how Remus was so intricately involved in this war. How he could stomach coordinating missions for old friends and classmates that could potentially lead to the deaths of any of them, or, conversely, lead to their having to turn killing wands on the enemy. She understood that the war was necessary - people weren't listening to reason - and that much of what he did was to help make these plans as secure as possible, as low-risk and high-reward as he could. But here was a man who could be content to live out his life among his friends and his family and his books and while what he was doing was admirable and he took pride in helping -

You could've had any life if the others hadn't wanted to join, if Dumbledore hadn't wanted you.

There was still the possibility that he would have learned of and joined the Order regardless, but on nights like the last, she had to wonder.

Nerves that had been on end since she'd last seen him were beginning to settle, and she smiled back at his soft touch, nodding to his words. Would it have killed the man to send an owl? She held herself as Remus went to wash, watching him...not idly, since such a simple moment could've been lost to her forever over the last hours, but...with a sense of peace. Normalcy. They'd been here before, him cleaning himself up after a full moon, after all. But while her husband assured her that his physical injuries weren't worse than any other full moon that he'd missed taking the potion on, she didn't buy the notion that he was fine. He'd had to spend time with Fenrir Greyback and the others, and obviously had done well convincing them of his "true" loyalties. Which meant spewing lie after bitter lie. Swallowing his hatred for the werewolf who had turned him...

The young woman shook herself out of her head, flicking her wand at the mess she had made to clean it up, and moved to him, tying back her hair as she did. She both wanted this peace to last, as well as know what he'd just been through, but knew well enough by now to know he'd tell her in his own time.  And he knows you well enough to read the questions in you anyway. Running a hand gently over his back, she came to his side and asked, "What can I do?"

[Remus Lupin]

She knew him well enough to know that there was more on his mind than just his psychical injuries. Last night had been a night of swallowing all of his pride, all his love for the world that he had been given the chance to live in. Giving lie after lie about how he hated his friends, hated his wife. Hated the Order and everything about it. All vicious lies that still tainted his mind.

And on top of that, there was the truth. A truth that had been kept secret from the both of them that he was still trying to figure out how to stomach. And certainly not something he could just spit out casually in a conversation with Charlotte. She deserved to know the truth, just as much as he had deserved to know. But it wasn't Fenrir Greyback who had denied them that truth, it was his father. And he didn't even know where to begin.

He shut off the water as she spoke, drying his hands on an old towel gently. There were more cuts than normal - he knew she could see that - and she'd become excellent at healing them. "Some of your healing spells would be nice," he said quietly. He kissed her forehead gently before moving towards their kitchen table, pulling his shirt off gingerly as he did.

"I know I don't have to say this...but he trusts me to a point."

[Charlotte Fudge]

I wish it wasn't like this.

    It doesn't have to be.

Yes, Remus had had a conversation with Dumbledore the night before - but it must have been hurried, he must not have been able to fully explain his reservations, his reasons. He had a case, and maybe if he'd had more time to prepare...he'll have to report how it all went, that would be a natural segue...

"Of course, love." Char put on a small smile at his words and kiss, nodding and fishing her wand out of her back pocket. While she'd never thought to pursue learning healing prior to his entry into the Order, she was glad she'd been able to learn what she had so far. Order members weren't permitted to get professional treatment at St. Mungo's - another bother of hers about the organization, because yes they had to be secretive, but how was her treatment ever going to compare to an actual healer's? - so she'd sought help from books, Marlene, and Dorcas to become proficient at the basics. It had been so different, learning something she knew she'd be applying soon, and applying to help her husband, because in his line of work (and with his monthly excursions) it was an accepted fact that he'd get hurt...

It'd become a part of their lives, a routine of sorts they'd fallen into, and as nice as he was about her skills improving, Charlotte knew she was no Mungo Bonham, and only a sad replacement for Madame Pomphrey.

Shaking herself out of the self-doubt, steeling herself for what damage Remus was revealing, Char gathered up a towel and bowl of warm water before following him to the table. Her features drooped only minutely at the sight of him half-dressed, covered in old scars, newly dried blood, and dirt, as she buried the majority of her shock. As accustomed as she'd become to this, one could never become fully numbed to seeing the evidence of pain in one you loved. She tightened her ponytail, worrying the inside of her cheek as her eyes darted around; her curiosity was piqued at his words, and those bright blue eyes turned up to his. "How suspicious do you think he still is?" she asked carefully. Are we safe here? 

Laying a soft hand against his chest and nodding for him to sit, she used her wand to first clear an area of debris and blood before cleaning more closely with the wet towel to get down to the real damage. It wasn't uncommon for scabs to reopen as she did, which only made her bury more anxiety about these nights away. Once she could see the edges of his torn skin and line them up well, the incantation was said and the edges melded, a pale line of a new scar the only evidence left. She worked methodically, every once and a while giving him a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder, kiss on the forehead. After one of these kisses and an affectionate neatening of his hair, she asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

[Remus Lupin]

He would have to go see an Order healer eventually, he'd have to report back in to Dumbledore on how things went. But for now he just wanted to be here with her, to hold her and remind himself of all the real things he had that were worth fighting for. And part of staying here meant letting her see his wounds, and letting her take care of the ones she could. She'd picked up on healing quickly, and it was much nicer having the familiar scent of his wife around during this process.

He sat there patiently, letting her process the sight of the new wounds, knowing that she was worried. But what could he say to make her not worry? There really wasn't much he could do. He worried, she worried. There was a war, there was simply no way around that. Letting the silence drift between them, he watched as Benevolio entered the kitchen, stretching lazily. He patted his leg gently, the cat sauntering over slowly to look up and mew at him.

And not surprisingly, this cat he hadn't wanted to get was soon in his lap, purring away. He looked up to meet her eyes as she spoke, knowing there was more to her question that she asked. "I don't know...but I don't think he will come here. Or to my father's place, considering..." He shook his head, falling silent as she got to work. The silence between them was normal as she worked on healing him, with only small noises coming from under his breath when she reached a spot that was extra tender.

"I said things that I never wanted to say, Charlotte. I can't...." He bit his lip as he moved to meet her eyes. "He told me something about my Mum that I didn't know."

[Charlotte Fudge]

Charlotte was glad for the understanding that they had at this time of the month. Initially, she'd been worried sick, which only made him feel worse, and didn't help at all. But as this turned into their routine, while it didn't become easier to let him leave, it became easier to deal with the aftermath. It was a part of their lives, and what more could be said? Well, the young woman corrected herself, going off into Greyback's forest is definitely going to yield more discussion. She hid a tired yawn in her elbow as Benvolio greeted Remus, the English shorthair wasting only a little time playing hard-to-get before he leapt onto Remus' lap. Their kinship had been surprising to all, but Char rather loved it, and knew Remus did as well. She nodded cautiously to his assurance, hoping he was right. While their home was protected, and Greyback wasn't a magic-user, there was still something absolutely unnerving about thinking he was watching them...not helping!

At her slight probing, Char wasn't sure how much she would get out of him. He had just gotten back and was obviously exhausted from the experience, and with any luck they would be napping within the hour. But she couldn't resist trying - and her features firmed as he went on, curiosity piqued and protective nature fully up.

"Fenrir Greyback spoke about your mother?" Charlotte paused in her work, looking at him quizzically as slow drops of water fell from the towel, because what was that about? "You're positive he wasn't just trying to trip you up?" she asked carefully, not wanting to doubt him but...what could Greyback possibly know about Hope Lupin that Remus didn't know?

[Remus Lupin]

This was their normal. Healing after the full moon, even when he did take his potion. He was thankful for the friends that knew how to brew it, for the effort everyone went through to make him feel comfortable with himself. But some months they didn't have the potion, and this had become the routine. And it was scary to think that perhaps this would be their new normal, him coming home after being with Fenrir and his pack, and him having to think about everything over and over again in his mind to put the details together for his wife.

Because she deserved to know. There was so many times he felt like he was keeping thing from her because of his work. But this was her life, and she deserved to know. Because what if he did watch them? What if he tried to do something to Charlotte to make Remus prove his loyalties? Sure, the house was protected, but that hadn't stopped Fenrir from recruiting magic allies in the past. Like when Marlene had been taken...

He reached out to brush stray strands from her face as she asked him a question, one he wished he could just say yes to. Yes, he was just messing with me. But there was no doubt in his mind that his father had lied, just like he had lied for so many years. Because it didn't make sense, his mother who had been in perfect health suddenly dying. The muggles had explained it away of course, but it had never felt right.

"They killed her. Because my father wouldn't join them."

[Charlotte Fudge]

Remus reaching for her gently, dark eyes full of feeling, was affirmation enough that her probing wasn't going to yield the results she'd hoped for. His words caused her to stiffen, chest tightening, and she forgot her duty, needing to hold on to him instead as memories of that horrible time came over her. Hope's death had been an awful, terrible, thing - so awful and terrible that she wouldn't have thought it could get worse. Supporting Remus through it had been extremely trying, for while she hadn't known the woman long, she'd been more motherly than her own - and never having lost someone she'd been close to, she was quietly learning how to process her own grief as well.

Sudden deaths weren't uncommon in either the wizarding or muggle community, and so accepting that Hope's had been unexpected but real had been something she had just had to accept, and try to get Remus along the path of acceptance too. But this?

"I don't know even what to say," the girl mumbled, words failing her as her mind tried to swap out what she'd believed to fit in this new information. If true - and why would Greyback lie about that? - it meant that Remus' father had stacked yet another sizable lie on top of the already sizable pile. She sighed, moving behind him to wrap her arms around her husband, leaning her head onto his shoulder. So not only had her Remus had a night with Greyback and the rest, spewing lies good enough to keep him safe, lies about his life and his allegiance and his wants, but he'd had to find this out? All the while keeping his head? "I'm so sorry, love."

[Remus Lupin]

He knew the news wasn't going to be easy for her to hear. It hadn't been easy for him to accept. But he couldn't keep this to himself, and let to fester into something that would drive him mad. He needed her in this, like he had needed her when his mother had died. He needed to know how to confront his father about this - because how could he simply let this go? Lyall could have done something. His father, while many things, was an excellent wizard and highly regarded within the ministry. Surely he could have made sure his wife was safe before denying the Death Eaters. He knew Remus was in the order, he could have gotten a message to him. It couldn't have been the first time his father had been approached about joining. It simply didn't make sense that he would like the woman he loved be killed.

They hadn't even questioned it. His mother wouldn't have told him if she was sick - she wouldn't have wanted to worry him. It hadn't been suspicious in the slightest then. But she was still young, she shouldn't have died. He should have questioned it then, he should have done something.

His hand came up to her arm, squeezing it gently. This would be on their mind the rest of the day, but they couldn't dwell on it. It would drive them both mad. "I know. I don't know what to say to my father right now. I don't know if I should say anything. But I'm glad you are here with me Char." In one month he would have to leave this house again and hope that he returned here. And he knew now he wanted to spend as much time of that next month as possible here with her. "All of this will be over soon. That's all we can hope for."

[Charlotte Fudge]

But what if it isn't over soon?

It was madness, really, what Remus was doing. What Dumbledore was mandating that he do. How was she supposed to let him do this? How could she let him leave each month to subject himself to that torture? It would kill her - becoming dramatic, are we? - to let that happen. She could give an ultimatum, Charlotte supposed, an it's-me-or-the-Order set of terms...

You couldn't do that to him.

That was the thing about love: There was only so much that could be explained logically about it. True, one could get into the science of it, but logically, her decisions here weren't making any sense, and hadn't for years now. She learned of his true nature and knew of his work and the risks of both (and now the both of them combining), and stayed with him despite it all. More than "stayed with," really. I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals...Their vows were binding, and just as she had meant them then, she meant them now. An ultimatum wouldn't solve anything, and she had sworn to support him - however difficult it was.

You'll just have to bite your tongue.

    Easier said than done.

The reach of these people fighting against the good of the world, it was unbelievable. That they would kill an innocent woman because her husband denied them, it was inexcusable. For all that she and Remus knew, eyes could be on their cottage now, spies seeing how the newest werewolf to spend time with the pack was recuperating. See how well he's fooling his wife.

"We'll get through this," Charlotte said quietly, and while she was trying to convince herself of it, she hoped she was convincing him too. She sighed and laid a kiss on his hair. "Don't think on what to do about your father now...we'll think of something." An exhaustion that felt too heavy for her handful of years was upon her, and Char knew they wouldn't come up with anything feasible today. Today they needed to rest and start processing the changes to their lives. "What do you say we try and get some real sleep?" she offered, releasing him and starting to gather up the bowl and towel, Remus being as healed as she could make him.

[Remus Lupin]

Remember what you are fighting for.

He was fighting so people like his mother wouldn't be killed, for the right for all people with magical abilities to be able to study and live in their world. This was bigger than him and his mother - think of the way the world could change without Voldemort and his ideology being whispered into the ears of kids before they could even make their own decisions. Instead words of acceptance, of reassurance. Yes, you will get to go to Hogwarts. There's a great big tree, and under the tree is a tunnel. And in that tunnel is a house, one for you to stay in. No one will know your secret. Why did you believe him?

While he couldn't be bitter about his friends figuring out the truth, it hadn't ended there. It wasn't just the men he called brothers, but some he called enemies. And some who'd known him his whole life, never suspecting that Remus Lupin was a werewolf. He didn't miss the looks of pity people tried to hide, or the unconscious way people stiffened around him. And to help Fenrir Greyback, to live the life of an enemy to secure a future where people didn't fear him...it was insane. Wars can't be fought without violence, but words could have impact if used properly. If people would listen and think for themselves instead of believing in a story they heard, it wouldn't be like this.

He'd wanted to be a teacher, at Hogwarts. Not something that he could easily do in the current state of the world. If he wanted that chance, this war had to end in their favor. No one would trust a werewolf teaching their kids, not when werewolves were working with the Dark Lord. It seemed as if his employment either way was conditional due to his condition. It didn't matter what side, it meant violence and heart ache. He had never planned for this, to be a soldier. But you hadn't planned to be a Prefect either, and you did just fine at that.

He hadn't planned on having Charolette in his life. Someone waiting for him to come home. They could have a wonderful life, this just had to end. And after what Dumbledore put him through, Remus thought he at least deserved a job. Something permanent. Perhaps he could teach muggle studies, to honor his mother. Every muggle aspect of his life had been a good one, while the same could not be said for the wizarding one. He wanted to be coming home to tell her about students, not just vaguely telling her circumstances surrounding the death of his mother.

But he tried to listen to her reassuring words, nodding silently as she redirected his thoughts. They needed sleep, preferably for a few hours if they could manage it without any interruptions. He nudged Benevolio from his lap, the cat giving him a stink eye as he hopped to the floor. Remus stood, reaching out for Charlotte as she returned from putting things away. He intertwined their fingers, giving her's a kiss before he looked down to their cat. "Well come on Benny, let's go to bed."