Remus Lupin glared around the Leaky Cauldron, not really knowing why he had Apparated here, of all places. He supposed it was as good a place to clear his head as any, to think about the events that had just taken place. The present contents of his mind were a chaotic blend of mixed memories and half-formed thoughts, and Remus wanted to get his head straight before going back to the Tonks's.

Looking around, Remus noted that he and one other wizard were the only patrons here, and that Tom the bartender had apparently dropped off to sleep, taking advantage of the lull. Remus glanced at the other wizard, then did a double take as his eyes took in the slack features and distinctive smell of Mundungus Fletcher, who, unsurprisingly, was enjoying a bottle of Firewhiskey.

Mundungus hadn't noticed Remus yet. Good. Remus didn't really feel like talking to him right now. Mundungus wasn't the best person to talk to when you had issues; he tended to project an uncaring posture, and he seemed to think that Firewhiskey was a cure-all. Indeed, Remus was convinced that that attitude had had its share of ill effects on Sirius.

Remus shook his head slightly and slid into a booth near the back, where he thought he was least likely to be noticed.

Then, he closed his eyes, and his thoughts drifted back to number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

He had cursed Harry.

Harry Potter, James's son. Remus felt sick as he remembered the look of revulsion on Harry's face when Remus told him of his trepidations for becoming a father. Harry had called him a coward. Remus had cursed him. Like a child in a playground fight, he had thrown a tantrum.

Had Harry really meant what he said? Remus supposed so. Coward. Even now the word stung him, but Remus wished he hadn't reacted in such a negative way. In a way, Remus could see why Harry had responded the way he did. Harry was an orphan, Harry had grown up without his father. Now Remus was setting his own child up to grow up without a father too. If I'm killed, it'll be better for both of them.

Sure, Lupin, said a voice in his head. Good plan. Yeah, they'll be better off. Dora will absolutely relish the chance to raise a young werewolf, to wipe blood off its face after full moons, to spend every knut she makes trying to cure the disease, just like your mother did. Only she won't be like your mother. Your mother and father had each other for support. Who will Dora have?

Remus dropped his head into his hands. As hard as it was to believe that anyone would choose him to start a family with, Dora had told him ("I've told you a million times!") that she had made her choice, and she would not go back on it, no matter how much he expected her to. His relationship with her had seemed like a wonderful dream, but recent events had made him wonder if the dream was about to end, or worse, turn into a nightmare.

Remus had had his share of nightmares, and dealt with them stoically all his life. Wasn't there a chance that he was wrong, that this time, his life had taken a turn for the better? He hardly dared hope so. He had always reviled the idea of passing on his condition on to someone else, someone innocent (but you risked it at school, when you let your friends take responsibility for your actions, didn't you!). Now he had done the same thing, he had let someone he loved convince him that everything would be all right, that no one would get hurt.

Imagine an infant having to transform, he thought despairingly. The transformation itself could be fatal for someone so small…

But it was too late. They'd risked it. And now, Remus realized, he would have to face the consequences. He couldn't leave Dora to go through that sort of trauma by herself. Maybe… Maybe she did need him after all.

Remus sighed. He was still terrified.

He managed to raise his head enough to glance around. Tom the bartender was still napping, and probably wouldn't wake up until more customers came. Remus craned his head to look at Mundungus Fletcher, who had devoted all his focus to counting out sickles to pay for his drinks. Remus hesitated, then stood up and approached him.

"Hello, Mundungus," he said. He tried to remain pleasant, ignoring the thought that Mundungus had abandoned Alastor Moody to save his own skin.

But Mundungus's look of horror at the sight of Remus told him quite clearly that Mundungus had not forgotten that day, and was sure that he was about to pay for abandoning his mission.

"Listen, Remus, I was just on my-"

Remus cut him off. "There's no need to run from me, Mundungus. I'm not going to reprimand you for leaving Alastor to fight the Death Eaters by himself. That would - er - be rather hypocritical of me, given my own actions lately. I just wanted to say -"

But before Remus could get the words out, before he could tell Mundungus that he might still be of use to the Order, something small and rather filthy-looking leapt at Mundungus from out of nowhere, and dragged him to the floor. Mundungus tried to fight back, but before he could raise a wand or a fist, both he and his adversary had Disapparated.

Remus blinked and frowned.

Well. That was odd. Was that a -

"Was that a house elf?" grumbled Tom sleepily, as he woke up from his nap. He looked as bemused as Remus was. "I don't suppose Dung left any gold to pay for his Firewhiskey, did he, Lupin?"

Remus, still very confused by what had just happened, nodded vaguely, then muttered, "I need to get back home." Everything might not exactly make sense in his life, but at least he wasn't being ambushed and abducted by rogue house elves. "See you, Tom," he said as he turned to leave.

"See you, Lupin. And, hey! Congratulations!"

Remus whipped around. "For what?" he asked stupidly.

"Well, I heard a rumor that you and your wife were expecting." He laughed. "News travels fast, and it always ends up here, one way or another. Anyway, I'm happy for you."

"Er - thanks, Tom." Remus gave a smile, and unlike the smile he had worn when he'd confessed the news to Harry, this one was genuine. "Yes, there is a baby on the way, and I'm… well, I'm looking forward to it."

Tom nodded. "Good man."