The Honeymooners

[mrstater]

Title: The Honeymooners
Author: MrsTater
Rating & Warnings: PG-13 for innuendo and implied sexuality
Prompt: Close your eyes and I'll kiss you / Tomorrow I'll miss you / Remember I'll always be true / And then while I'm away / I'll write home every day - "All My Loving," The Beatles
Word Count: 7862 words
Summary: Two years after their wedding, Remus and Tonks finally make it on their honeymoon. But now they've got something they didn't when they first married, will they be able to stop thinking about it long enough to enjoy themselves? [AU]
Author's Notes: Shameless Deathly Hallows Denial Fic! This is set in the same ficverse as a story I wrote called Once, though you don't need to know anything about that story other than the fact that Mad-Eye named Tonks the beneficiary of his will, which gave her and Remus a house and a full Gringott's vault. ;) Many thanks to Godricgal, the bestest beta in the world! Feedback is always very welcome and much appreciated!



The Honeymooners

"Do you have any questions, Harry?"

The bespectacled not-quite nineteen year-old, unshaven and sporting an impressive case of bed-head despite its being after one o'clock in the afternoon, merely glanced over his shoulder at Remus, replied, "Nope! Not that I can think of," and then turned back to Teddy, who he'd just sat atop his toy broomstick and was now demanding, "Up! Up, Hay! Boom fwy!"

It was a scene Remus witnessed on a daily basis since Harry had moved in last summer, and in spite of the frequency of its occurrence, he ordinarily took great interest in watching James' son oblivious to everything around him but the (momentarily) turquoise-haired toddler he was playing with. There was no question of anyone being a better godfather to Ted Remus Lupin than Harry Potter, and that Harry had agreed to fulfil that role in Teddy's life as a member of the family was a constant source of joy to both Remus and Dora -- not to mention Teddy.

Today, however, Remus would have settled for the joy of Harry's undivided attention. What had happened to the focus he'd displayed during their Patronus lessons?

Remus cleared his throat and raised his volume so as to be heard above Teddy's largely unintelligible babble and Harry's gentle admonishments to hang on made amid muttered spells to keep the squirming toddler from tumbling off his broomstick. (For in addition to Dora's remarkable abilities, Teddy had inherited her no-less-endearing equilibrium; though Remus found clumsiness more detrimental to his heart and blood pressure in son than it ever had been in wife, and consequently the house was now more baby-proof than it had ever dreamt of being Death Eater-proof when it had belonged to Mad-Eye.)

"I've written out our full daily routine for you."

Remus tapped Harry's shoulder with a thick roll of parchment, which, with another look that scarcely qualified as a glance, Harry took and placed on the coffee table, where it was sure to get lost among the clutter of a month's worth of issues of the Daily Prophet, The Quibbler, Witch Weekly, Wiz Kids Magazine For Magical Parenting, Which Broomstick, Auror training manuals, and enough picture and colouring books to outfit entire nursery school of little witches and wizards.

"Did...you want to go over it?" Remus asked.

At last Harry looked at Remus fully -- though only to grin and say, "No, it's okay. You and Tonks should get going."

"He does live here, Remus," said Dora, slipping her hand into his and squeezing. She was laughing, but Remus detected a forced quality to it; a glance down at her upturned face revealed eyes that sought reassurance as much as her words were meant to reassure. "Harry knows our routine as well as we do. Better than my mum, even, which is why we asked him to look after Teddy instead of her."

Remus raised his eyebrows at his wife and allowed himself to become teasing, for her sake, though he didn't feel in a particularly jokey mood. "I thought your central argument was that Teddy would actually have fun with Harry while we're away."

Dora grinned and looked at Harry, who was wrestling his glasses away from a pair of pudgy -- and no doubt sticky -- hands. "It's really lovely of you to give up a week of your last summer holiday to babysit."

Of all the shocking news the Wizarding world had received during those last months of the war -- a little more than a year gone, now -- none had astonished the general population (though not Remus) so much as Harry's decision, after defeating Voldemort, to return to Hogwarts for his seventh year of school and play Quidditch. Gawain Robards, then Head of Aurors (though that position was now occupied by none other than Auror Lupin, which filled Remus with no small measure of pride for his wife's accomplishments and vindication for the humiliating loss of her job she'd suffered for their marriage) had declared Harry needn't earn his NEWTs to qualify for the training programme, but Harry had insisted, and his friends followed his lead, and so arrangements had been hastily made for the school to be rebuilt in time to open on the first of September, 1998, for all school-aged witches and wizards who felt they'd been deprived of an education the previous term and wished to repeat the year. (Remarkably, a handful of Slytherins were among the students who claimed this deprivation, though Draco Malfoy was not among them.)

Harry's cheeks were a little pink as he focused intently on using the tail of his t-shirt to wipe the smudges off his glasses, though his words belied his bashfulness: "Just kissing up to my future boss."

His laughter rang out, when Dora hit Harry with a Fur Spell, mingling with Teddy's as, in his delight, he spontaneously morphed matching black fur.

"Really, now, Dora," Remus playfully admonished. "I thought we were relieved to learn Teddy hadn't inherited my furry little problem. Do you have to give him one?"

"Seriously," said Harry, removing the fur from his body with a neat flick of his wand (and Teddy went back to his normal appearance, albeit with a head of messy black hair and a lightning bolt on his forehead), "I think you two deserve a holiday even more than I do. Though I might need one after a week with this little guy," he added, dodging hands that swiped for his glasses again.

Dora's grip tightened on Remus' hand. "Did you write down the bedtime stuff? Bedtime's the most important to keep to routine, or Teddy won't sleep. He likes a bottle while we read -- you did tell Harry how to prepare Teddy's milk, didn't you, Remus? And you'll have to read 'Babbitty Rabbitty' at least three times -- he'll say "gin"--"

"Tonks," Harry cut her off, keeping one steadying hand on Teddy's back to balance him on the broomstick as he stood. "I know. I've helped you put him to bed before."

It was true enough. Harry helped both of them with bedtime when the other was absent: Dora at full moons, Remus when Dora had night duties, thankfully which didn't occur with much greater frequency than full moons thanks to her promotion to Head of Aurors.

"Hay!" shrieked Teddy. "Boom fwy!"

"Sorry, Teddy," said Harry, turning to his godson. "Okay, on the count of three: one, two, three. Up you go!" He gave the end of the broomstick a push that sent Teddy zooming around the living room, the broomstick barely clearing Remus' and Dora's pile of luggage.

"I know you've put Teddy down before," said Dora through her teeth, "but there's a lot of details you might not have noticed. He likes his dummies to coordinate with his jammies, did you know that?"

Harry, who had been stood confidently with his hands on his hips as he watched Teddy fly, wilted somewhat, green eyes blinking behind his glasses.

Remus took pity on him. "Shocking, isn't it? A member of this family colour-coordinating?"

Harry chuckled, but Dora was not amused. Remus slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulled her against him, and dropped a kiss on her hair.

"Chin up, Dora. As you say, Harry does live here. They'll get along just fine. Probably won't even miss us."

Releasing her, he swooped Teddy off his broomstick as he flew past. The little round face reddened -- with a building temper tantrum, not a morph -- but Remus put a stop to that before Teddy could get wound up, lifting him high and planting a raspberry on his tummy when his little Weird Sisters t-shirt crept up out of his little baby shorts, which were riding down off non-existent baby hips to reveal a black and yellow-striped nappy -- part of Dora's ongoing quest to predispose their son for Hufflepuff House.

A click and a flash of light in Remus' periphery alerted him to the fact that Dora had taken the new carefully-packed camera out of her large straw summer bag. (They'd bought a camera specially for their holiday, so they could leave the old one home with Harry to ensure they didn't miss any of Teddy's development while they were away.)

"Save some film for Lyme," admonished Remus, who found himself in possession of no such measure of self-control when Dora palmed the camera off on him so she could cuddle their son.

Luckily for their film supply, Teddy was having none of a drawn-out, affectionate goodbye. After a couple of kisses, his little hand was pushing Dora's face away and he was kicking his legs and flopping over intractably in her arms.

"Down, Mama! Fwy boom! Hay!"

"We'll miss you too, son," said Remus wryly, giving his wife another squeeze, as she looked slightly offended and very much reluctant to leave for a week-long holiday without a lengthier leave-taking. "We did hope he wouldn't cry when we went."

He picked up their luggage and gestured toward the front door. "Come along then, Dora. We're already two years late for our honeymoon. I don't know about you, but I don't want to wait another second for it. "

And then Dora looked up at him, her elfin face, framed with pink hair, a perfect mirror of what it had been this day two years ago, when they should have been bound for a honeymoon, if only the world had been right, though her bridal radiance had assured him that she didn't care about that, only cared that she would have a wedding night with him at all. Her dark eyes shone with a love that burned as hotly and strongly -- hotter and stronger -- than it had on their wedding day, which made his heart swell; and they twinkled with naughtiness, as well, that made him all the more eager to be alone with her.

She prodded him in the back with the tip of a striped beach umbrella her mother had lent them. "Yes, let's get a move on. I'm ready for you to moon your honey. Bye, Harry, we'll write!"

"Not about that, I hope," muttered Harry, from beneath whose dishevelled hair, the tips of pink ears poked, and who once again didn't meet Remus' eyes as he waved them farewell.

If some of their honeymoon activities were not to be written home about, their honeymoon suite certainly was.

"We'll have to be sure and take lots of pictures to send the boys," said Remus, looking around the airy, maple-panelled Lyme Beach Chalet, which Dora was already snapping away on film.

He set down their bags, flicked his wand to open them and send their week's worth of clothes and shoes into the wardrobe and bureau, then sat on the edge of the bed, grinning, to watch the Auror-turned-photographer at work.

"Not that Teddy will be interested," Dora deadpanned, "as there's not a picture of Babbitty Rabbitty in sight."

Remus chuckled. "I take it you don't object to the monochromatic décor, then?"

Dora snapped a picture of the French doors that led out onto a wide wooden deck. "With a view of sea and sky exactly my favourite shade of Teddy Turquoise?"

She glanced over her shoulder, briefly, dark eyes twinkling at Remus, enchanting his insides to rearrange themselves and send pleasant sensations outward through his body that made him wonder whether there weren't other things he'd rather be doing on the bed than sitting...But then Dora turned back to the French doors, and, in profile, he saw the smile slide from her lips.

Remus felt his own face fall, and his brows knit together. "Dora?"

At his cracked note of concern in his voice, she shook her head a little, making her bubblegum pink hair dance over her shoulders, and fixed her expression once more into a grin.

"Nothing. Only..." She turned to Remus and, placing the camera on the bureau (precariously close to the edge), she joined him at the bed, nudging his knees gently apart to stand between them. "Don't you reckon it's a bit odd to be on a honeymoon, talking about your fifteen month-old son?"

With her fingers sliding up over his thighs, so warm through his light summer trousers, it was difficult to think coherently, much less form those thoughts into intelligible sentences.

Still, he managed to say, "I don't imagine it's odd for honeymooners who've been married for two years and had a child before they managed to make it on a honeymoon. Anyway, I'm sure, considering it was because we couldn't bear to leave Teddy that we're only just getting around a honeymoon, that this won't be the last time he comes up. So no feeling odd about it."

Dora attempted a smile, but didn't quite muster one that reached her eyes, and after half a second her lips tugged downward again, and then she bit her full lower one. Her gaze fell, too, but Remus caught her chin and raised her face to his.

Without prompting, she covered his hand with hers and said, "He's so little. Are you sure it's okay that we've left him?"

Remus might have known that was what was troubling her. He smiled and laced their fingers together, squeezing her hand. "Teddy is in the best hands he could be in."

Dora blinked, hard. "I know, just...I can't help but feel we're abandoning him."

"Honestly, I feel a little like that myself," Remus admitted, and at this Dora looked slightly relieved. "But I promise you, it's okay. Arthur and Molly encouraged us to take some time to ourselves, and I think if anyone would know about a child's capacity to weather his parents' absence, its them."

"Yeah," croaked Dora, and blinked again; Remus felt an answering swell in his own throat, and knew what thoughts were flicking through her mind now, the lingering shreds of guilt at how close the still too-recent Battle of Hogwarts had come to taking them away from Teddy for much longer than a week-long holiday. But he wouldn't think of that now. The fact was that they had not been taken from Teddy, and their life was such that they were at liberty to take week-long holidays.

Releasing her hand, he took her round the waist and pulled her so suddenly down onto the bed beside that she cried out his name in a squeal.

"Don't you worry about Teddy," he said as he moved to straddle her. "He'll have too much fun with Harry to miss us. And even if he does, we're planning to bring him a souvenir he'll never outgrow."

As he leaned in to press his lips to Dora's cheek, she rocked her hips up into his and met his gaze once more with twinkling black eyes that held not a trace of worry or guilt or anything but velvet desire.

"Shall we get started on that?" she said in a breath, her lips just brushing his. "I mean, in case we need the full week to get it?"

"Yes," replied Remus, kissing her. "We shall."

Sunset found them in bed, again. They'd dragged themselves from beneath the faintly salty-smelling eiderdown duvet and (reluctantly) dressed for their dinner reservation at the Harbour Inn, recommended by a colleague of Dora's and which, romantic as bed in the chalet was, they were very glad not to have missed. There was nothing, they agreed (and wrote in a letter to Harry, complete with a picture of themselves dining there, taken by their waiter who was a little baffled by their Magical camera), so tasty as crab and mackerel eaten outdoors, mere yards from the sea in which they had recently been swimming.

Packed to the gills with seafood, they'd also managed a leisurely walk along the beach and back to their chalet, whereupon they'd promptly fallen back into bed -- although, for the moment, not to make love, but simply to watch the late July sun slip below the horizon of the sea, painting the sky in myriad hues of dusky blues and purples, highlighted electric oranges and pinks, to which Dora, to Remus' enchantment, made a game of matching her shoulder-length hair.

But his attention was diverted from his wife by the rap of the family owl, Archimedes, on the windowpane. Remus used his wand to open the window and let the owl in, whose heavy brow sloped over his sharp black eyes in his usual expression of impatience. As Remus slipped the roll of parchment from its sheath on the owl's leg, Dora fed Archimedes a bit of leftover crab from their dinner.

"Don't you humph at me, Mister!" she scolded the owl, who had, indeed, made such a sound at her. "Why are you always such a crotchety old man? I could've eaten this crab for dinner and given you a bit of stale old biscuit, you know."

If Archimedes humphed again, it was covered by Remus clearing his throat and beginning to read the letter from Harry:
Dear Remus and Tonks,

Just got your letter and the pictures. Looks like you two are in for a perfect romantic getaway. Wish I had anything as exciting to write about -- or maybe in the world of childcare, it's better not to have anything exciting to write about.

"Knowledge that will serve him well in a few years," Remus commented, then read on:
Teddy played with his toy broom till lunch, and you'll be glad to hear we didn't break anything.

"Not that it matters," Dora observed, her chin on Remus' shoulder and a hint of self-recrimination in her voice, "as everything we own's been broken at least once, and not just by the member of our family with the toy broomstick."

Remus turned his head to kiss her cheek. "Thank Merlin for Spellotape and Reparo charms, hmm?"
Even though it was a bit hard to get him off the broom for lunch, he'd played so hard that he nearly fell asleep in his high chair. He went down for his nap without a fuss, and slept for two hours. So did I. I woke up to him shaking the rails of his cot and shouting, "Hay! Boom fwy!" and then we played with the broomstick again for a couple more hours. I tried to teach him the fundamentals of Quidditch, but either he's a bit young, or takes after his mum and dad.

There was a humph -- and not from Archimedes, but from Remus. "Why does everyone operate under the assumption that I have no Quidditch ability? Just because I didn't play in school and don't join in the games at the Burrow doesn't mean I can't play."

"Can you play?" asked Dora.

"No idea. I never had enough interest in the sport to try."

"I feel I ought to have known this long before two years into our marriage," Dora said in a rather contradictory tone of disinterest. Her fingers nudged his lower back. "Go on, then."
Dinner was a repeat of lunch, and I only had to read Babbitty Rabbitty once before Teddy conked out. I would've myself, only Ginny popped in with a plate of dinner from her mum, and we listened to comedy night on the WWN till Mrs. Weasley called her home. I tried to read some Auror manuals but decided to save them till Tonks is back home to spice up dry reading with funny training stories about Mad-Eye.

I reckon you've better things to do than read boring letters from me, so I'll close. I'll practice stealth and see if I can't sneak into Teddy's room to give him the kisses you sent. Have a fun beach day tomorrow!

"Aw," Dora said. "I wish I could put my hard-earned stealth skills to use and kiss Teddy myself, but Harry's so sweet."

"Feeling better about going away?"

"Definitely." Dora wrapped her arms around Remus' waist and squeezed him -- and then nearly deafened him on letting out a shriek of laughter at Harry's post-script:
Do Metamorphmagi sunburn?

Metamorphmagi did sunburn, and, as Dora discovered, they could morph away red chests. They could not, however, morph away the sting. Werewolves sunburnt, too, and couldn't do anything about unsightly red ears and noses -- though Remus could hex his wife for teasing him about his refusal to sunbathe shirtless and the fact that his tanned forearms accentuated just how very pasty his chest and stomach were.

Stupidly, they'd forgotten to pack their sunburn ointment, which would have healed them instantly; of course none was to be found in Muggle Lyme Regis, so they were forced to make do with after-sun lotion from a chemist. They got a little relief from the sting; and redness, thank Merlin, didn't stop them enjoying hamburgers on the beach.

"What are you thinking of?" asked Dora.

Remus shifted his gaze from the breathtaking summer seascape -- the deep cobalt waves lapping the beach, which was a veritable rainbow of blankets and umbrellas that sheltered picnicking and playing holidaymakers (couples and families, though his eyes were mainly drawn to the families, particularly with small children) -- to his wife, reclining on a low beach chair and looking equally breathtaking in her hot pink bikini.

He placed his hamburger on the paper wrapper spread across his lap, currently serving as a plate, and wiped his greasy fingers on his paper napkin. "Did I look thoughtful?"

"You did. You were smiling."

"Why?" Remus chuckled as he swept one hand wide to indicate the beach spread out before them. "Do I have to be thinking of something other than being on holiday in Lyme Regis?"

"It wasn't that sort of smile." Dora dipped a chip into a blob of ketchup and raised it to her mouth, pushing it between her glossy pink lips that made him squirm on his beach chair and consider joining Dora on hers and Disillusioning them both. "You closed your eyes for a second and looked blissful. It was a sex smile."

"It was not!"

"It was! I was surprised you didn't groan. You, who are wearing too many clothes at the beach because 'your body's for my viewing pleasure only.'"

"As I recall, you were anything but scornful when I said that this morning. As I recall, you showed me just how very much pleasure you get from viewing my body."

Dora might have blushed -- although it could have been the sunburn coming through her morph; the muscles of her face twitched with the effort of maintaining a straight face. "That was before you got bad tan lines. Now tell me why the sex smile!"

"It wasn't a sex smile," Remus asserted, but he answered her question, "I was thinking how there's nothing I love to eat better than a juicy hamburger on the beach."

"Except for seafood that just came from the sea across the street?" Dora said wryly, then, eating another chip (less delicately), she spoke with her mouth full. "I still think you Confunded that girl in the burger stand to cook you a rare one. She'd been so adamant about health and safety."

"I solemnly swear," said Remus, "I invoked nothing but my natural charm to convince her rare meat is perfectly healthy."

But, noting how Dora's laughter was quiet and didn't fully light her dark eyes, he reached over and took her hand.

"I was actually contemplating how lovely it is to be here," he said, "alone with you, with five days ahead of us yet. What are you thinking of? That your burger's too well done?"

Withdrawing her hand, Dora picked up her hamburger with both hands. Bits of mayonnaisey lettuce, tomato, pickle, and onion fell out onto the paper wrapper covering her bare thighs. She emitted a little grunt and, looking darkly at it, set the burger down again, removed the top bun, and gingerly replaced the wayward condiments.

"True blue Brit that I am," she said, "I like my meat cooked thoroughly."

"Sucked dry of all tenderness, you mean?"

"Honestly, you sound like Fleur Weasley."

"Sans French accent." Remus showed her his half-eaten burger. "I should think the colour of a rare burger alone would sway you."

Dora's nose crinkled, and she turned her head to look out at the sea. During the exchange, Remus had noticed that her voice and demeanour were taut; now, as she slowly chewed her burger, her jaw moved mechanically, not savouring, or even enjoying her lunch, perhaps not even really tasting it.

Remus could have guessed what she was thinking about even before she asked, "What do you think Teddy's having for lunch?"

"Nothing bloody, I'm sure, being that he inherited the Metamorphmagus genes instead of the Lycanthropic ones."

Not reacting to Remus' attempt at joking, Dora commented, "Didn't sound like he gave Harry any mealtime trouble yesterday."

"Let's hope it lasts. Otherwise Harry might discover that the greatest challenges a wizard can face are not, in fact, behind him."

"I'm not sure we left Harry enough notes about what to do if Teddy won't eat."

"We wrote at least three feet of parchment, I should have thought."

But there was no easing Dora's mind. She held her hamburger in her lap, thumbs pressing into the bun. "We left so many jars of baby food. I hope Harry doesn't open them all trying to get him to eat something."

"Harry's witnessed enough mealtimes that he's learnt a few tricks. And he, Quidditch player that he is, introduced the method of sending the Quaffle into the goal."

"I still prefer opening the cell door to throw the baddies into Azkaban," said Dora. "Maybe we should go back to the chalet and send a quick Patronus to check up on how they're doing."

She started to get up, but Remus laid a gently restraining hand on her shoulder. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Dora's expression clearly stated that he was out of his mind. "Aren't you worried?"

"No." Remus was worried. But he had a strong feeling he had no reason to be, and he wasn't going to feed Dora's anxiety by admitting his own. "If Teddy gives Harry any trouble, Harry can Floo your mother, or Molly, or he can Patronus us. But I'm sure an almost nineteen year-old Auror cadet-to-be who killed the Dark Lord will appreciate our trusting in his competence. We did ask him to be Teddy's godfather, after all."

During the long moment that followed, the questioning of Remus' sanity gradually faded from Dora's features until she signed and said quietly, "I'm sure you're right."

Remus squeezed her shoulder, but didn't move his hand away. "You're not really worried, are you?"

Dora shook her head. "Not exactly. It's more...I know it's okay that we came, all parents need time to themselves, but I can't help feeling a little guilty. And...a little bit homesick. I love it here, but I do miss our routines."

The feelings she'd voiced so perfectly matched the ones Remus had left unsaid that he suddenly became very aware that the hunger he now felt was not the sort that could be sated by a hamburger -- even one rare to perfection.

"Why don't we go back to the chalet after all and do something that makes us feel a little more at home?"

Dora's grin was smug. "I knew it was a sex smile."

Remus hoped his grin was even smugger. "And I knew you don't care much about tan lines."

They were rubbing after-sun lotion onto each other (Remus, thanks to saving his body for Dora's private enjoyment, needed far less, and she cursed her bikini as he slathered it over almost every inch of her -- which, of course, he didn't mind, though he hated to see her in pain) when Archimedes returned that night.
Dear Remus and Tonks,

You've made me very hungry for a burger. I was tempted to take Teddy to McDonald's for dinner, but he doesn't have enough teeth for a Happy Meal, and it seemed a bit unfair to make the poor kid eat strained peas while I had a Big Mac. (I reckon it's a bit unfair to make a kid eat strained peas at any time. Especially when they're already fussy.) But Teddy's in bed now, and I can't stop thinking about McDonald's. I'd Floo Ron to bring me one, but he's never figured out Muggle money and would probably try to fly his broom through the drive-through. And Hermione would just put me off by talking about the nutrition facts and how bad fizzy drinks are for your teeth. So I'll just put some of those frozen chips in the oven.

"Poor Harry," said Dora, giggling into a pillow. "D'you think that burger stand's still open? We could send one back with Archimedes."

Archimedes, unexpectedly, humphed, and was not assuaged by Dora telling him she'd get him a portion of chips.

"This is exactly the sort of letter James would have written at nineteen," said Remus. "All boy."

Of all the good that had come about after the war, Remus had enjoyed -- at least as much as he'd enjoyed the repeal of Umbridge's mislycanthropic legislation -- seeing Harry at last have the chance to catch up on some of the boyhood he'd missed. For too long Harry had shouldered responsibilities far and away beyond most grown wizards, with a serious outlook far beyond his years; it was only right that part of his reward should be to come into the leisure and humour that would have been his birthright had he had a normal childhood in James' and Lily's home. It was a joy to Remus to see that life unfold for Harry under his own roof, in the midst of his own family.

Dora's thoughts had moved on to their own son. "Does Harry say anything else about Teddy being fussy?" she asked, raising her head from her pillow and looking over her shoulder toward Remus, behind her. "Did Teddy eat badly?"
Today was okay. Teddy didn't give me any trouble eating or going down for his naps or at bedtime--

(Here Dora sighed, but her shoulders remained tight, anticipating the inevitable but.)
--but he woke up this morning crying for his mum and dad and kept looking around for you and fussing all day. I sort of know how he feels. It's weird being here on our own. I've got used to Tonks running around like mad to make it to work on time, then making herself late anyway morphing noses with Teddy.

Remus paused, expecting an interruption for Dora to fret over Teddy missing them. He set the letter on the bedside table and squeezed more after-sun lotion into his hand and began to rub it over Dora's shoulders. Sure enough, she did speak -- though nothing like what he'd anticipated.

"I love how Harry's always teasing us now. He used to be so shy around me, when we first met. Not that I probably made him feel at ease, I was so awkward back then."

"He had a great deal on his mind in those days," said Remus. "He's finally getting a chance to be a teenager."

"I was just about to say how much he'd grown up."

"Well, yes," said Remus, slowly, mulling. "In many ways he has, inevitably. I suppose I mean that he's getting the chance to grow more like James grew up -- which wasn't very grown-up at all. It never did seem possible that Prongs could be a husband and father." He rubbed lotion until it disappeared into Dora's pink skin, then bent to kiss the sun-warm hollow between her shoulder blades. "You've grown a lot, too."

Dora turned her head. "Are you calling me immature?"

"No, that's not--"

"Cos you'd be right, considering the t-shirts and holey jeans and hairstyles I used to wear. But as Harry pointed out, I still haven't outgrown morphing animal snouts at the table."

"And I sincerely hope you never do," said Remus, kissing her again, this time on the nape of her neck. "Anyway, now you have the excuse of making Teddy laugh so I can shovel strained peas into his mouth."

"This is true." She turned onto her side, propping up on one elbow and resting her head on her hand. "So by growing you mean because of all those character-building experiences I've had, like war and our rather tumultuous past?"

"Actually I was referring mainly to motherhood." Remus mirrored her position and stroked her tummy with the tips of his fingers. "You're all mother now, don't you know it? And not only to Teddy."

Dora's mouth fell open and she looked at him a little askance. "What, you don't mean Harry sees me as a mother? I'm only twenty-six, he's nearly nineteen--"

"And I'll be forty next March, please don't remind me."

Rolling her eyes, Dora said, "Harry might see me as something of a big sister, like Ginny does, but a mother?"

"You don't dispute that he sees me as a paternal figure?"

"Course not, but you're--"

"Actually old enough to be Harry's father?" Remus finished for her.

"His dad's mate," said Dora, emphasising the words. "I thought you were long over this too old thing."

"Please indulge me. If I'm a father figure, then my wife must be a mother figure."

"Whatever." Another eye roll. "Anyway, if anyone's a maternal figure to Harry, it's Molly. I could never compete with her for Mum of the Year."

"I disagree," said Remus, a firmness in his voice that must have started Dora, if her cocked head and slightly rounded eyes were any indication. "Not to diminish Molly in any way, but you're much more the kind of mother Lily would have been to Harry if she'd lived. And haven't you noticed how he looks up to you as an Auror?"

Though she seemed to be considering this idea, Dora remained dubious. "There's a big difference between mentor and mother."

"You loved Mad-Eye as a father."

Remus had not intended to play on Dora's emotions, but as if to prove his point, her dark eyes misted. Her lashes blinked against her high cheekbones, and she swiped at the tears with the back of her hand.

"This is true." Smiling, she sat up, and gave her head a little shake, as if to clear cobwebs of disbelief. "I'm going to have to think about this mother thing for a bit. It's quite enough getting used to the idea of Harry Potter being my protégé!"

Retrieving the letter from the bedside table, Remus said, "Get used to it. And while you're at it, tell your protégé he's not to harass your husband."
Teddy cheered up a little when I showed him your beach pictures. His nose went red just like Remus'. And I'm doing my best to teach him to sing "Remus, the Red-Nosed Werewolf" to you when you get home. Have fun in Abbotsbury tomorrow!

Remus' nose, luckily, had returned to its normal pale shade of white by the next day, but on the off-chance that Teddy's vocabulary did take off while they were away and Harry was able to teach him "Remus, the Red-Nosed Werewolf," Remus insisted on popping into a Muggle chemist for sun cream before they mounted their new Bluebottle family broomstick for the nineteen-mile flight from Lyme Regis to Abbotsbury.

The day's plan was to visit the subtropical gardens and swannery, which they did -- but the discovery of a children's farm in the area proved to be the high point of the day.

"Oh, Remus!" cried Dora as Remus snapped pictures of her bottle feeding a pure white goat kid while a second chewed her paisley-print skirt, presumably also thirsty and vying for her attention. "We've got to come back here someday and bring Teddy! I think this is my favourite thing we've done yet this holiday." Her gleaming dark eyes found his, a knowing look in them. "Except souvenir hunting, of course."

"You do realise," Remus replied, "that this attraction is advertised as perfect for the 'under elevens'?"

"Thus coming back here and bringing Teddy. Although it'll be a few years before he can control his morphing. Be a shock to the other families if he got excited and morphed a billy goat beard or horns, wouldn't it?"

"Indeed. But he could get this same experience at the Hog's Head, you know, where he'd be welcome to morph anything he pleases. Say 'Weasley Wheeze'."

Dora did, although not with the intended smile so much as a look of abject terror at being thrown off balance as Remus captured on film the poor un-fed goat butting her in the backside.

"Oi!" Dora scolded the naughty goat. "I'm feeding your brother here! Wait your turn!" To Remus, she said, "Collecting incriminating photos to show my protégé, Harry Potter?"

"Nope," said Remus. "Aberforth."

Dora stuck her tongue out at him, but grinned at a little brown-haired boy stood shyly nearby, who kept looking at her bottle with longing blue eyes.

"Here you go, love," she sad, placing the bottle in the child's small hands. She gestured at the goat who'd been chewing at her clothes. "That chap's starving."

Remus watched as she helped him get the bottle into the goat's mouth. As she chatted so effortlessly with the boy, who was remarking on her lime green braids, he thought how, much as he was enjoying this holiday with her, interactions with their son had become such a part of their relationship. He missed watching Dora with Teddy. He missed Teddy.

"Sure you don't want to feed the goats?" she asked, straightening up and saying goodbye to her new friend. "It'll make a cute picture to send the boys."

"That's okay," said Remus. "We want to save film for the goat races."

"Which are starting soon," said Dora, grabbing his hand and tugging him away from the goat pen and toward the racing track, which was what had brought them to the Abbotsbury Children's Zoo. For what acquaintance of Aberforth Dumbledore could resist an afternoon at a genuine goat race?

"Oh, look!" Squealing, and without letting go of Remus' hand, Dora bounded forward. "They've got little racing jackets on! How cute!"

The goats lined up at the stalls, dressed in green silk with bright gold numbers emblazoned on their sides, was certainly unique, if not precisely cute.

"Shall we place bets?" Remus asked.

"I assume you're thinking more along the lines of sexual favours than galleons?"

"Well, we do still have that souvenir to get..."

That night, after Dora, who apparently had a great innate understanding of goat racing, had collected her earnings, Archimedes returned once again to the Lyme Beach Chalet, bearing a letter from Harry.
Dear Remus and Tonks,

Funny you'd go to a petting farm today. Teddy and I were feeling a bit stir-crazy today, so we went to London Zoo. We had a great time out, even if it was a bit of a pickle finding something for Teddy to wear in case of Spontaneous Excited Animal Nose Morphing. Luckily Fred and George had a brilliant disguise in the joke shop--

Dora snorted. "Merlin help us..."
--a pair of glasses with a large fake nose and moustache.

What they needed help from Merlin was not to split their sides laughing at the pictures Harry had enclosed of Teddy riding on his shoulders, the pair of them wearing matching Holyhead Harpies hats they could only have acquired courtesy of one Ginny Weasley, and both wearing the ridiculous spectacle-proboscis-moustache combos.

"That is brilliant," said Dora, when she'd got herself under control. "Best my poor mum could ever do was balaclavas."

"Which can't have been comfortable in July," Remus remarked, before continuing with Harry's letter:
Teddy didn't have a lot of interest in the London Zoo's goats. He liked the snakes, because I talked Parseltongue to them -- and he said a new word! Sort of. "Nake" is almost the only word I got out of him for the rest of the day.

"I don't know whether to laugh or to cry," said Dora, smiling, but sounding miserable. "Teddy learnt a new word, and we missed it."

Remus concurred, but kept up a front of levity for Dora's sake. "Well, as Harry points out, we'll have many opportunities."
I bought him a rubber snake at the gift shop and charmed it to slither.
It...sort of got lost in the house. Hopefully I'll find it before you get home, but if I don't and a snake comes out, don't call the Control of Magical Creatures, will you? I'll be in trouble with Misuse of Magical Artefacts and suspended before I even get started with the Auror training programme.

"Spoken like a true Marauder's son," said Remus, but the swell of pride promptly popped like a balloon as he read on:
Teddy didn't go down very well tonight, but if he's not too tired in the morning, I may take him to the Natural History Museum to see the dinosaurs, although I'm sure it won't be as exciting as digging for fossils as you'll be doing in Lyme. I think the Dursleys went on holiday there once, because I remember Dudley coming back from somewhere once after I'd spent the whole week at Mrs. Figg's, with a whole bucketful of fossils -- only he wouldn't let me touch them to get a good look. Bring me one as a souvenir? My birthday's coming up next week...

We're very glad that goat didn’t eat Tonks today!

Love,

Harry

For a long moment after Remus finished reading, neither spoke. The breeze had died, and the warm summer night air seemed to lay like a heavy blanket over them both. It was plain that Harry's letter had affected them both rather adversely, but Remus wondered whether it was for precisely the same reason. He thought back to their afternoon at the Abbotsbury Children's Farm and pictured Dora chatting with the little boy she'd befriended in the goat feeding pen. Between that and Teddy saying a new word in their absence...

"He's lonely," Dora's voice broke the silence. "All this time I've been worried about leaving Teddy for a week, and I never stopped to think about how Harry might feel." She clutched at Remus' sleeve and gazed up at him with compassionate eyes that could only reside in a mother's face. "Has he ever been on a proper holiday? With family?"

Remus could have kissed her. He did bring her hand to his lips. "We've still more than half our holiday left. I think it's quite plain what we should do."

"There," said Dora later that night, pocketing her wand, looking far too professional for a honeymooner. "That should do it."

"I should think so," Remus agreed, glancing around the perimeter of the newly Muggle-repellent deck of their chalet, then back at his wife. Her pink hair was twisted up in a clip, and the moonlight cast a silvery sheen on it. "Come here, you."

Dora went to him without hesitation, and he wrapped his arms about her middle, tucking her beneath his chin so that they could watch the sky. They had finished their work not a moment too soon. Almost the instant they looked northwest, toward London, a gleaming speck, duller, but closer, than the stars, appeared.

As the speck grew larger, the unmistakable sound of a travelling cloak flapping in the wind filled their ears, and soon they could make out the dark outline of the billowing fabric against the night-time clouds. Soon after, unkempt black hair could be seen, and beneath it, the lights of the village reflected off a pair of eyeglasses, and then it became clear that the figure of Harry Potter was hunched over his old Firebolt, two suitcases strapped underneath the broomstick.

Harry swooped lower, and they grinned to see his other hand wrapped securely around a turquoise-haired toddler dressed in a little travelling cloak of his own -- along with a pair of blue footie pyjamas. Pudgy hands waved, and Remus' heart leapt -- and he thought he felt Dora's do so -- as Teddy let out a number of mamas and dadas amid a stream of largely incomprehensible babble (with the exception of nake, which they laughed to hear). Keeping a firm hold on the squirming Teddy (who apparently enjoyed the night-time "boom fwy" with "Hay" too much to mind having been woken up at what was, to his young age, the middle of the night), Harry looked exhilarated by the flight and, Remus thought, pleased to see them; but his happiness was quiet, restrained, almost shy, an expression Remus knew from experience to be the feeling of intruding on a scene he felt he oughtn't.

The look did not grace Harry's face for long. As he alit his Firebolt in a graceful movement and held Teddy out toward Dora, the vivid green eyes behind suddenly askew glasses widened in surprise as Dora caught Harry in a tight hug.

"Wotcher, Harry. We're so glad you're here."

Harry returned her embrace with some little awkwardness, although it might have had to do with him still holding Teddy in one arm.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, glancing at Remus as he lifted his son into his own arms, and then back at Dora. "I mean, it is your..." He swallowed, and even in the dim light filtering out the chalet windows, seemed to flush. "...honeymoon."

"We've had three days of honeymoon," said Remus. "Now we're in the mood for a family holiday for the next four."

Harry straightened his glasses and blinked behind the lenses. "With Teddy and..." He swallowed again. "...and me?"

"Of course you!" Dora had moved to Remus' side to kiss Teddy all over his round little face, but stopped to flash her wide, warm grin at Harry -- who returned it when she added, "You've a birthday coming up, and are as much a part of this family as Teddy -- especially if you say you'll be godfather twice over."

Harry's smile froze in incomprehension. "Godfather...twice...?"

Remus slipped his arm around Dora's shoulders and wondered whether a man had ever felt more proud than he did in this moment. "We're having another baby, Harry."

"Hear that, Teddy?" Dora asked, radiant. "You're going to have a baby brother or sister!"

It was doubtful he had any idea what his mother had just said, but at fifteen months, Teddy was a fantastic actor; he clapped his hands and squealed, "Bebe!"

"That's really great," said Harry, coming in closer to hug Remus as Dora took Teddy from him. "Congratulations. Only..."

"What is it?" Remus asked.

The young man's expression carried Remus back to the day in his old Defence Against the Dark Arts office when Harry had asked him to teach him how to fight Dementors.

"Please don't leave me alone again, okay? Not with two. This parenting stuff makes killing Voldemort look like a piece of Cauldron Cake."

The End

If you're interested, you can see pictures of Remus' and Tonks' Lyme Beach Chalet, the Harbour Inn, where they enjoyed a seafood dinner, and the Abbotsbury Children's Farm, which really does hold goat races!