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Letting the days go by
Let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by
Water flowing underground
Saturday, June 30 • Early evening

Remus stood still on the bare sod that yet surrounded cottege, eyes closed. Apparating from London after taking a dosage of Wolfsbane required a moment's recovery.

When his head ceased swimming quite so much, he swallowed again to attempt to clear the taste from his mouth and moved to the door, his shoes making soft marks in the lane where a proper walk would soon be.

This would be his hiding place tonight, if not his home yet. No more Shrieking Shack, and no more Snape — although to be honest not having the Potions Master available to check over the other Apothecary's work on the new version of Wolfsbane was a bit worrying. There were more new elements to this moon than Remus liked.Collapse )
I'm a girl watcher, I'm a girl watcher...
Here comes one now
Monday, June 26 • Early afternoon

Vera stowed the first two scrolls into her robes and drew out a fresh one.

"If the next two towers are as free of Hagrid's small friends as that one was, we can be done well ahead of tea time."

She'd been uncharacteristically late to begin their rounds; Roger and she weren't quite yet finished with the first flush of celebration and had been ... occupied.

"Although ... did you think the gargoyles overlooking the fifth-floor landing looked unusually plump?"
Some times there are sacrifices to be made.
Wednesday, June 13th ~*~ Afternoon

Daphne said her goodbyes to Anne Perks, and stepped away from the woman's hospital bed.

After hearing what had happened on Monday, she'd wanted to visit the two people that had gotten hurt. Guilt had eaten at her for the last few days even though she hadn't had any part in what had happened when Bellatrix died, but that didn't stop her from wanting to see for herself that Anne and Snape would eventually be alright.

Dealing with her guilt over Bellatrix's death would take much more, she knew.

She stopped to lean against her husband for a moment, seeking a bit of comfort and strength, before moving on to find Snape.

Covered in bandages and looking even paler than normal, he was propped up against some pillows in his bed, arguing with his Healer. That, more than anything else could have, served to reassure her.
The secret marriage vow is never spoken
The secret marriage never can be broken
Friday, June 1 • Morning

"I think we have it from here, Poppy." Lupin leaned slightly on Izabel's shoulder, grateful to be back at the castle. His voice was hoarse and low. "Thank you as ever."

They had a lot to be thankful for, as it were. The night had gone well, which meant Remus was ready to say goodbye to the Shrieking Shack, and the extra supervision he'd requested, once more.

Once the Mediwitch was safely out of hearing range, he confessed, "I think the walk from the Willow is considerably longer than when I was a teenager."
If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.
- Abraham Sutzkever
Saturday, May 5th ~ Afternoon

Roger grabbed a bottle of ale and set the broom he had just dismounted carefully aside. Looking around he couldn't keep the grin off his face. Some friends, a picnic, a few rounds of Quidditch, and a cold ale to drink - there was no better way to celebrate your birthday in his opinion.

And the best was yet to come.

Roger made his way over to Vera, thinking of the surprise he had enlisted the house elves help in setting up back in his quarters. Roger couldn't stop smiling as he plopped down next to his - hopefully - future wife and gave her a kiss.

"And what have you been up to?"
Ah, the moon's too bright
The chain's too tight
The beast won't go to sleep
I've been running through these promises to you
That I made and I could not keep
Ah, but a man never got a woman back
Not by begging on his knees

Friday, May 4 • Evening

Before he'd popped down to Glen Hollow after his final afternoon class to pick up a very necessary component to tonight's plans, Lupin had asked one of the house-elves to tidy his quarters for a private dinner for himself and Professor Sinistra.

In retrospect, the need to repeat himself that while yes, it was a special occasion but no, it wasn't a secret from Izabel and the elf didn't need to worry about that should have tipped Remus off; he returned to a set of rooms transformed.

Instead of the comfortable mix of old books and scrolls, occasional DADA object and, a recent addition, samples of paint colors and cottage plans — his quarters could now be photographed for Witch Weekly.

Remus whistled lowly and inspected the table that had been set up in the main room. Impeccable white tablecloth he was nearly afraid to touch, sparkling tableware, crystal candlesticks he didn't remember having seen in the castle's collection before, but then who knew with house-elves.

He walked into the bedroom, and his amazement turned into laughter; there were even mints on the pillows. The elves had apparently done their able best to change his humble quarters into a high-end hotel suite.

It was more than Remus had requested, but he knew better than to argue with the results.
I ... takes over slowly
But doesn't last very long
I ... no need to worry
Evr'ything's under control
Wednesday, May 2 :: Evening

Wisps of steam rose from the goblet containing the altered wolfsbane.

"Assuming the minor vomiting problem is taken care of without harming the potion's effectiveness ... there's one full moon after this one before end of term. I think to be safe, that should be spent here as well, even if tonight goes as expected. One last hurrah."

Remus tilted the cup toward Snape in acknowledgement and began to drink.

Over the summer there was the cottage to stay at, and there were few places in the British Isles quite so secure to keep a werewolf. By the time fall term rolled around, if things went well, if there were no setbacks, if he was completely sure of being back to normal ... perhaps the cage at Hogwarts could be used again.

Privately, Remus doubted he'd ever feel that secure. Full moons from now on would mean the cottage. It was close enough, and it was remote.

"And you'll not have to brew this potion for me again, Merlin willing."
Overwhelming News
Wednesday, April 18th ~ Late Afternoon

The sun was still in the sky when Rose lead her friends back to her building. The four women had met for tea and spent some time catching up, and Rose realized how much she missed spending time with them. Daphne had mentioned there was something she wanted to tell them, but would prefer to do it someplace less public. Izabel had spoken up, saying she had news of her own.

Since Daphne lived so far away, there was no way that Rose could go out to Glen Hollow without angering Roman, and Vera and Izabel both lived at the castle, another place Rose couldn't risk visiting, that left only Rose's flat. She offered her place up for a quick visit, saying she had to be somewhere that evening but saying that they were more than welcome to stop by before she had to leave.

As long as the sun was in the sky, then Roman should still be sleeping.

She opened the door to her flat, and hurried in to make sure the living area was clear before turning ask if the other ladies wanted anything to drink.
WWN Broadcast
Friday, April 6th ~ Evening

"This is Rita Skeeter, standing just outside, around the back, in an alley behind, the Three Broomsticks, where a reception for one of Hogsmeade's former most eligible bachelor's - and his blushing bride - is taking place, to bring you a WWN exclusive."

"Can it, Anastasia, I don't care who got the assignment from the boss, the story is Mine. Keep it up, and I just might forget to take that gag off before I leave. Understand?"

"Now, where was I? Oh, yes, the quicky wedding of hunky recluse and defense school owner, Harry Potter, to restaurateur and frump, Daphne Greengrass occurred weeks ago with almost no fanfare and a tragically small guest list. Once word of the marriage hit the streets, some of the most delicious rumors began to circulate over the mysterious circumstances behind the event."

"Some sources say the couple had been estranged, and were shocked to hear of the wedding when I told them, still others speculated on the need for such a rapid and quiet affair. So far there are no signs of impending motherhood - although the bride has been carrying a few extra pounds for quite some time - but one can't help but wonder if there might be a new member of the Potter family showing up soon."

"What? I said if, they can't sue us for merely voicing some of the public opinion, Anastasia. Stop being such a worrywart."

"As always, ladies and gentlemen, WWN is always interested in the comments and concerns of our listeners. More importantly, if you personally witnessed a sensational bit of scandal, owl me, Rita Skeeter, care of the WWN. The Wizarding Wireless Network now returns you to our regularly scheduled programing."
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.
~ William Shakespeare
Wednesday, April 4th ~ Early Morning

Monday night's events had left Izabel a trifle - insecure - and that was putting it mildly. She didn't want to face Remus and see condemnation in his eyes. She realized what Severus had been doing. It didn't stop the urge she had to kick him a good one in the shins or throw something extremely hard at his head, but it did lessen it to a great degree. Sirius on the other hand - she could cheerfully have strangled.

Other than a quick visit, while Poppy was still there, Izabel had avoided Remus the rest of Tuesday. Quite successfully. She wasn't sure if that should worry her or not.

Late Tuesday evening, after checking with Schroeder to make sure Remus was asleep, she'd approached his quarters cautiously. When she didn't find it warded against her, Izabel breathed a little easier and had managed to slip into bed without waking him. The fact he was probably exhausted from the moon was something she'd counted on. Izabel was awake long before the elf returned to rouse her and with a small sigh, she moved to leave.

I wonder if I'll be able to actually face him today?
I can see my lifetime piling up
I can see it smashing into yours
It was not as accident at all
Open those windows up - I hear you laughing
Monday, April 2 :: Night

The moon brought with it territorial instincts, heightening the need to grasp and claim what was his — which was precisely what Lupin must not do. Laying beside Izabel the past few nights had the long stretches of celibacy that characterized his early adulthood seem a trifle in comparison.

He was irritated when not around her, and ill-tempered when in her company, and all in all he simply thought it best to ward the Shrieking Shack for all contingencies, most especially last month's menagerie.

That done, Remus sat, disturbing a few dust bunnies, and attempted to read while waiting for Snape.
Home is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there
I come home — she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place.
I can't tell one from another
Did I find you, or you find me?
There was a time, before we were born
If someone asks, this where I'll be ... where I'll be
Saturday, March 24 :: Noon

"The staircase to the upper floor will go here. Down there's the cellar, which is mostly finished."

Sunlight gleamed through the clear tarp covering the window holes of the future living room, and the dust kicked up by Remus and Izabel's presence danced in the streams of light.

There wasn't much for him to show her yet. But the bones of the house, unfinished walls that could still be moved with judicious wandwork, were in place. A lot had been accomplished in a short time — the cottage had been the subject of his singleminded focus for the past month — but so much remained to be done.

And with another person in the house to give it a sense of scale, niggles of worry tried to whisper again that this place he was so very proud of was too small, that the layout was wrong ... that she'd see all this and come to her senses and go find someone to share with her a proper restaurant meal with tables and chairs, instead of a picnic here with raw lumber and splinters.

"What do you think?" he asked, turning slightly to catch the response on Izabel's face.
Ce que j'ai fait, ce soir
Ce qu'elle a dit, ce soir
Realisant mon espoir
Je me lance, vers la gloire

Tuesday, March 20 • Morning

Remus had fallen into the habit of appearing at the meals in the Great Hall late, but this morning he was back to his previously punctual self.

Izabel had been as good as her word, and had left his bed very early. He'd awoken when she had, and had gone so far as to open his mouth to protest her leaving, when the entirety of the circumstances had been recalled. He'd whispered good-bye softly, and did not fall back asleep.

Instead, he'd waited for the leggy warmth that signaled the only remaining evidence of Izabel's presence between the sheets to dissipate and then made quick work of the rest of his early morning duties, starting with removing his fireplace from the Floo Network and warding his room against an all-too-welcome visitor.
There are people who put their dreams in a little box and say, "Yes, I've got dreams, of course I've got dreams." Then they put the box away and bring it out once in awhile to look in it, and yep, they're still there.
~ Erma Bombeck

Monday, March 19th ~ Evening

Schroeder - which was an unusual name for an elf anyway - had informed Izabel that Professor Lupin was asleep and that it hadn't taken long as he'd seemed very tired. He was also the same elf that was assisting Izabel in making sure the items she'd left in Remus' quarters continued to make their way back amongst his things, no matter how many times he tried to get rid of them.

Izabel had chosen one of her regular nightgowns to wear. Nothing overtly sexy, just what she normally wore when sleeping. She pulled a set of teaching robes over the gown and slid her feet into flats.

"Thank you, Schroeder. One of these days you're going to have to explain to me again where you got your name and what exactly a peanuts is - or are," Izabel said while making her way out of her chambers and closing the door behind her. She didn't meet anyone in her journey to Remus' quarters and took a deep breath before reaching out one hand to touch the knob.

At least he hasn't warded me out yet. Forgetfulness or hopefulness? crossed her mind as she stepped inside.
Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it
Friday, March 16 • Afternoon

The chart wasn't wrong. It was recording the data accurately, a vague golden mist seemingly hovering over the parchment in the dimmed light of Vector's office.

Vera crossed her arms and frowned at it, as if by sheer force of will she could get it to show her what she wanted.

Matter — energy — did not simply disappear; that was one of the fundamental laws of the universe. What remained of the two missing Aurors could be found. There was no question of that.

It just might take a more detailed chart and more power than she — or any one person — had to track the molecules if they'd been disappated and rearranged.

Air from their lungs, flakes of skin, hairs — the entire Hogsmeade area would be glowing if I went to that level. And it will take months, and what sort of fuel?

Was the investment of time and effort worth it, given that at this point they could only find where last the Aurors' bodies had rested? Vector finally looked back over her shoulder to the other witch in the room, who'd had the courtesy to remain silent while she'd worked and even after.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing here."
To celebrate the joining of Harry James Potter and Daphne Diane Greengrass in the bonds of matrimony.

Tuesday, March 13th ~ Early Evening

Hedwig had nearly flown herself into exhaustion, but each of the handful of invitations had made it to their intended recipients in record time.

The ceremony was small and quick. The bride wore the same robes her mother had been married in, the groom a suit. Their friends had gathered in the window room over looking the lake, and Severus Snape gave the bride away.
There is no remedy for love but to love more.
~ Henry David Thoreau

Thursday, March 8th ~ Evening

Trying to ease their relationship back to appearing merely friends wasn't easy, but it was what Izabel thought Remus could handle.

Until he breaks of course.Collapse )
You and I - may kill ourselves
You and I - go straight to hell
Saturday, March 3 • Dusk

Up before dawn, simply because of restlessness and not because the moon called and would not be denied. Out to the woods, to fell trees and split lumber with an axe, not a wand.

Neither rocks nor words helped to drive the black dog off during the day's toil, but if Sirius wasn't smart enough to take care of himself, so be it. Ropes and a stunner served to make sure Lupin's trip toward Hogsmeade, when at last it came time, was made alone.

Remus slipped inside the Shrieking Shack, well before dark fell, to fashion a cage amidst the dust and shadows.

Bone-weary, half dead ... and knowing it hadn't done any good at all, that within hours the wolf would still be at full strength. He could feel its eagerness.
But I still believe
And I will rise up with fists
And I will take what's mine mine mine
There but for the grace of God, go I
Wednesday, February 28 • Evening

Vera walked toward the gates of Hogwarts to meet Daphne, promptly and as planned.

The Pansy problem still lingered, and it seemed one found solutions much easier after a meal with friends. And if that became too much for Izabel, they could always try to cheer her up with the wedding plans that they had gone ahead with as much as they could with no input from either bride or groom.

Near-psychotic optimism was required when dealing with the bridal industry, even in the best of cases. It would work out.

She was convincing herself that when Daphne, accompanied by Miguel, arrived.

"Thank you, Miguel. I do so love delivery. I'm still disinclined to tip, however."

She smiled at Daphne.

"I made the mistake of mentioning sushi in front of the house elves, and they became very enthusiastic. I hope you like Japanese, and I hope they know what they're doing."

Fresh ingredients shouldn't be a problem, at least.
Concerned Correspondent

Tuesday, February 27th ~ Evening

Izabel never had been much good at lying or at sending cryptic messages. After three crumpled and then torn up sheets of parchment, she didn't even try. If it fell into someone else's hands the most she could do was make it appear they wrote on a regular basis and she was merely passing on news.

Dear Severus,Collapse )
A friend will tell you she saw your old boyfriend - and he's a priest.
~ Erma Bombeck
Monday, February 26th ~ Early Evening.

Evenings were the hardest of course. Days had their own trials and tribulations, but evenings were by far the most difficult. When Izabel would forget and make a mental note about something one of the students did or said in order to tell Remus later, the fact she was in class or around other people made it easier to maintain. Unless she wanted to put a damper on Vera and Roger's relationship by spending each and every night in their company - she needed to learn to deal with the fact he was absent. Either that or learn to tolerate Horace's company and she knew already which lesson she preferred.

He will be back, became the - mantra - prayer she used to keep herself from giving up completely when she hadn't heard from him in so long. The fact another moon was on its way to pay him a visit was reason to worry and Izabel found her scope turned in its direction far too much lately - as it was now. She didn't know why really, there was nothing there that held any answers.

With a sigh, she moved back from the eyepiece and glared at the partial moon with her naked eyes. There would be a full eclipse of the moon on the 3rd and while this was a wonderful opportunity to have the students study one - she almost wished the Muggles had blown it up during their missions to explore the surface.
The words of love are not enough
Though sweet as wine, as thick as blood
Wednesday, February 14 • Night

They were together again in his dream.

Shifting, sighing, one blending into the other and neither letting go.

The new moon was approaching; in theory Remus was as much in control of himself as he would be this cycle. He needed to know how much of the poison remained, and he needed not to rely upon the sleeping draughts every night. Whatever the modified wolfsbane potion would consist of, it probably wouldn't be helped with all manner of other potions swimming in his system. Lupin hadn't consulted anyone; he'd simply decided to make himself a blank canvas.

Free of restraints, his sleeping mind had gone directly to Izabel.Collapse )
A competent and self-confident person is incapable of jealousy in anything.
Jealousy is invariably a symptom of neurotic insecurity.
~ Robert A. Heinlein
Friday, February 9th ~ Evening

After leaving Glen Hollow Izabel had returned to Hogwarts. She'd reported to Minerva, given her the good news that he was conscious again, but had pleaded fatigue when the older witch asked her to stay for a cup of tea.

I should have stayed and had that tea, Izabel decided as she folded one of his shirts that had been left on a chair in her bedroom. The bare finger on her left hand kept drawing her gaze because it felt wrong. It felt - naked.

I could wear another ring, I suppose.
The supreme irony of life is that hardly anyone gets out of it alive.
~ Robert A. Heinlein
Friday, February 9th ~ Early Evening

After Remus had been persuaded to eat a little and fell deeply asleep, Harry felt it was safe to leave him alone. Suicide had been danced around and the topic introduced without actually bringing it out in the open, but once the older wizard had recovered - it might rear its ugly head again. Closing the bedroom door behind him, Harry softly called for Dobby and instructed him to ask Snape if he would like to stay for dinner and if the answer was yes or no to take care of it on his own. He had other matters to see to.

Izabel hadn't returned to check on Remus.Collapse )
So wake up, young lovers
The whole thing is over
Watch but touch monkeys
All that blood, gonna swallow you whole
Friday, February 9 • Afternoon

For the first time in days of dreaming, something from outside penetrated his consciousness as a bitter, cold liquid trickled down Lupin's throat. The noise and fury of the snarling battle between man and beast slowly began to ebb.

Sensations filtered through the fog — a blanket, the dryness of his mouth, the feeling of eyes watching him.Collapse )