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A great marriage is not when the 'perfect couple' comes together. It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences.
~ Dave Meurer

Sunday, May 6th ~ Late Morning

Since Izabel and Remus were at Glen Hollow and appeared to be disinclined to 'socialize', Harry hadn't done any work in his shop. Izabel was wearing the engagement ring again and the last thing he wanted to do was face a grumpy Remus when the noise filtered up to his suite.

Wouldn't want to disturb them while they're making up for lost time - so to speak, Harry decided with a chuckle. Wondering if Daphne was up and about yet he headed up the stairs to check.

If she is good and if she isn't - better.
As solicitous as Dobby tended to be — and Lupin appreciated that, of course — he also tended toward an unerringly uncomfortable curiosity.

Hence Remus felt more at ease heading down to the kitchen to fetch them a tray himself, rather than asking the house-elf.

Back to Hogwarts tomorrow. As a married couple — will the castle know?

Lupin pondered the possibilities of coming back that night to find one of their suites emptied out into the other's, or conjoined, or an entirely new set of quarters fashioned, as he walked down the hallway.

Not much of a secret then — not that that's such a bad thing.

Now that Izabel was his wife, a thought which triggered an involuntary smile each time, Remus found himself more ambivalent about the secrecy than he thought he would be. He still believed everything he'd said on Friday about an open celebration, but he couldn't deny there was a possessive sort of satisfaction in the fact that the perfect circle of "mine, yours, ours" was theirs and theirs alone.

Which didn't excuse the fact that he was looking awfully pleased with himself when he encountered Harry.

"Oh, good morning, Harry. I thought you were out."
"No, not out. Just trying to be quiet in careful consideration of people still sleeping," Harry advised and then chuckled. "You look a hell of a lot more rested than you have for quite some time. Making up seems to agree with you. Will you and Izabel be down for dinner tonight?"

Raising his eyebrows, Harry thought of something else as he leaned against the wall.

"Daphne said she told Izabel and Vera. Was the news of our impending parenthood passed on?"
For a honeymoon, this weekend had been much too short and full of other people — but then, that's one of the benefits of doing it twice; Remus was about to accept the invitation on his and Izabel's behalf when Harry dropped his bit of news.

... Parenthood?

He looked over his shoulder back toward their rooms to see if Izabel was there waiting. Perhaps this was a prank, or these past few days in their entirety had been some sort of joke.

No one was laughing — except Remus himself, suddenly. He clapped Harry on the arm.

"No, the minx. Parenthood? You're going to be a father?"

We've rarely been so wrong, have we?

"Congratulations, Harry."
"Yeah, it wasn't exactly planned but we're both happy about it," Harry advised with a grin before he sobered. "The truth - sometimes I'm completely terrified - but I'm working on it."
"As well you should be," Remus nodded. "I remember you as a baby."

He was joking, but that did bring to mind the fact that this would make James and Lily grandparents. It was hardly imaginable.

"I think, given this news to celebrate, that Izabel and I would be glad to join you for dinner."