Disclaimer: All credit goes to J.K. Rowling for creating the HP-verse and the characters in it.

Having a baby and fighting a war

When she opens the front door, Remus is standing on the doorstep, wet and disheveled and with haunted eyes. He has been gone for three days and she's been terribly upset for most of the time, because he never even left a note and she's wondered to what horrors she lost him. Now, she wants to hug him, she wants to hold him and comfort him to chase that look from his eyes. But she wants to shake him, too.

She does neither. Constant vigilance. What did McGonagall say to you in the hospital wing after Dumbledore's death?'

He winces. 'You mean her words about a little more love in the world?'

It's him, she knows, not just because of the words, but because no one winces the way Remus does, with his whole being. But they aren't done yet. Your question to me?'

'I'm too old, too poor and too dangerous to you. What do you say to that?'

This doesn't bode well. 'I don't care.'

'Yes, that's what you said.'

Hurriedly she pulls him inside and closes the door. But when she wants to kiss him, he shakes his head and turns his face away. 'I don't deserve that.'

She doesn't let go of him and turns his head back to face her. 'Why not?'

'I tried to leave you.'

She is dumbstruck. She never expected it, not again, not now.

They retire to the kitchen, for privacy. Her parents are in the living room and remain there after she peeks in to tell them it's nothing she can't handle - though she doubts it is true.

He sits down heavily. There's one pinprick of light in the darkness: he's not avoiding her eyes. She can see him struggle to speak, but he's losing the fight. It's up to her, then.

Why did you leave? she wants to ask, but deep down she knows. He began to withdraw the moment she announced her pregnancy. She tried to ignore it, to tell herself it would pass, but apparently her own joy made her oblivious to his unhappiness. 'You never left a note,' she says instead.

'I was going to, later.'

She's angry now. Not nearly good enough. 'I was mortally afraid something terrible had happened to you!'

'I know,' he replies. 'I am deeply ashamed, and there's no excuse for it.'

If this is an apology, she refuses to acknowledge it. 'Why did you return?'

Remus blinks. Harry... wasn't happy with me,' he replies.

'You went to Harry?' He just said so, silly cow. 'You told Harry my pregnancy was too much for you to handle? Asked him for a job as a suicidal side-kick to the Chosen One?'

Biting his lip he nods, unsurprised that she's guessed it. 'I tried to put it in a nobler light first, claiming you'd be better off without me - both of you.' He gazes at her stomach, though it's still as flat as it used to be, at this stage. 'Knowing me, I'm sure you can imagine what kind of nonsense I was blathering. But I gave myself away when I confessed I was afraid the child would be like me.'

Again, she doesn't know what to say. She thought she knew all his uncertainties, all the ways in which he manages to depreciate himself. Should she have guessed that his self-hate was strong enough to impair his mental facilities? Has she wilfully ignored the signs that he's always been more damaged than he manages to come across? You know what, Tonks? Maybe you were too young and whole for him. He warned you, didn't he?

'And Harry told you off for failing to make sense?' she asks.

'He called me a coward. I hexed him, and then I ran away to prove his point.'

He's hexed the son of his dead friend. If she needed any more proof how far gone he is, she's got it now. Pitiable. But she doesn't want to pity him, so she decides to give him no quarter. She has to know the whole truth, or at least his truth, as skewed as it may be. 'And now you've returned here because you didn't know where else to go?' she asks.

'I've come back to apologise for not discussing it with you before I took the one-sided decision to leave.' He sighs. 'For that, I beg your forgiveness, but how can I possibly presume you'll still want me after this? I throw myself upon your mercy.'

She leans back in her chair. 'You want to discuss having a baby? A bit late, isn't it?'

'It's all my fault,' he tells her. 'I should have thought of taking precautions, but I got carried away.'

'It takes two to tango,' she replies quietly. 'Actually, I did think of taking precautions, but I got carried away as well.' She relises she may be giving away the advantage she has had so far, but she never wanted it anyway. He's her husband and the father of her child, and she doesn't want to be at an advantage with him. That's not what marriage should be like.

He rises abruptly, visibly agitated. 'You did think...?'

'I did.' Now he knows that she let her child-wish prevail over all other considerations...

'Dora,' he says, raking through his hair with one hand, 'how many thoughts have you ever spent on the social stigma werewolves are suffering from. Seriously?'

'Enough to know that you don't deserve it.'

'And did you like running away from Harry's birthday, because I was an Undesirable even under Scrimgeour's regime and you shared my fate because you married me? Did you?'

'I chose to share it out of love,' she replies defensively, knowing what his next question will be.

And yes, there it is: 'What about a baby who has no choice in the matter? A baby who has no future under the current Ministry, in a world controlled by Death-Eaters?'

It's impossible to deny he has a point, even though it doesn't excuse him from running away. She could retort that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wasn't in power yet when she got pregnant. But there was a war going on even then, and it was always a possibility he would take over. It's a futile argument, and it has nothing to do with what motivates her. She has a truth of her own.

'I resigned,' she informs him. 'I wasn't going to work any longer for a government that hates my Muggle-born father as much or more as it hates my werewolf husband, as it will hate my child. Don't you see? I was always going to be involved in this war, no matter what, given what it is about. Did you truly believe I could ignore the darkness around me and pretend it had nothing to do with me, if only you weren't there to remind me of it?'

Rising, she bridges the short distance that separates them, grabs his hand and puts it on her stomach. For a moment she's afraid he's going to pull away, but he doesn't.

'Let this pregnancy be an act of defiance,' she continues. 'It wasn't planned, and both of us failed to discuss the possibility it would happen. But the child exists, and it needs both parents as champions against evil. It needs both of us. Together.'

Remus shakes his head, more in astonishment than in denial. 'I'd never have thought of having a baby as a way of fighting a war. I should have known better, of course, taking my cue from James and Lily. This is more about risking to love than about risking to die, isn't it? And you don't give up. You're a far better Hufflepuff than I've ever been a Gryffindor.'

'Oh, I don't know about that,' she retorts, though inwardly she's exultant. 'Does being a Gryffindor mean you're fearless - or does it mean you hate cowardice? You wouldn't have returned and 'fessed up if you didn't.'

'Do you forgive me then, for being such a lousy husband and father?'

'Can I thank you then, for inspiring me to be a better wife and mother?'

He puts his arms around her. 'And here I was, thinking you were perfect,' he murmurs.

She leans into him. 'Perfect? Forget it. But at least now I'm complete again.' She can both hear and feel him breathe out.

But being Remus, he can't help himself. 'How are we going to eat, now that you're out of work?'

'Let's rob a few well-filled Death-Eaters' vaults at Gringotts,' she suggests.

'What?' he says. Lupin and Tonks, thick as thieves, stealing from the rich to give to the poor?'

'All's fair in love and war.'

'I suppose it is,' he says pensively.