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The move had taken all day.
Fenella seemed to be conducting a symphony of thatch and stone, her wand whipping and slicing through the air as she muttered various incantations. Lyall apparated back and forth between their old house, and the foundations of the new, bringing the remnants of their meagre possessions. From a few old quarry stones, a moth-eaten sofa and two badly bruised leather chairs, Fenella had built a beautiful home. A cosy kitchen, with an open fire and a pantry, leading through to a comfortable living room, and two, adequately-sized bedrooms. Externally, the cottage was in-keeping with her own, and it made for an enchanting scene. The two cottages stood within walking distance, and she had taken the liberty of adding a wooden bridge across the trickling stream. The basement, however, was the trickiest part. It had to be charmed, not only with a muggle-repellent, but with sound-proofing and indestructible doors, giving Remus and his parents some much-needed privacy on the full moon. Foxglove Cottage had also been re-fortified, in case he managed to escape – all in all, an arduous process.
Verity and Remus sat in the treehouse, reading by enchanted fairy light. She noticed how his glasses had slipped to the end of his somewhat-crooked nose, and that the tip of his tongue stuck out when he was concentrating. His hair seemed to glow as it caught the light, creating a small halo. Her heart fluttered, and her breath caught in her throat. Drowsy eyes flicked over to her, and he gave her an innocent smile, before turning back to his book. The flutters became a stampede of tiny beasts, racing inside her chest, and she inwardly groaned. Oh no. Snapshots of memories from the last five years flooded her mind, as she became more and more aware of the heat in her cheeks. Her book was now a prop, unable to concentrate over all the noise inside her head.
'What an idiot,' she thought, as she shifted in her seat.
Tadgh’s face floated in to her mind’s eye, and she winced, as she realised that maybe his jealousy was not unfounded. His little scowls and huffs as she talked animatedly about her best friend, or chose to study by the lake with Remus - just the two of them. The times he’d walked in on them in the Common Room, when they’d been sat just a little too close…
Remus must have seen her stricken face, because a warm hand appeared on her knee, and squeezed.
‘Oh, don’t do that.’ She thought, her breath quickening as she caught his gaze.
“Verity?” Remus implored her, looking concerned. His eyes searched her face, trying to figure out what she was hiding. She cast hers downwards, trying to shake off these treacherous feelings.
“Sorry – err, daydreaming.”
Remus raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. She managed a weak chuckle, before realising he still hadn’t removed his hand. Her eyes shot down, and back up, with a distinct air of panic. Smooth. He retracted it, like one would from a burning flame, before scratching his head and changing the subject.
“Shall we head back to yours? I think I can smell dinner.”
Verity snorted. “You say there are no perks, but I’d definitely call that a super power. You should look in to becoming a sniffer dog.”
The boy grinned, wolfishly, before stretching his arms languidly above his head. His biceps bulged, pink and silver lacing over them like abstract art. His t-shirt rode up just enough to give Verity a small heart attack. She averted her gaze, face on fire, before hopping to her feet.
“Race you?”
“You’re going to lose. You know that, right?”
“Pfft, not if I get a head start.”
Remus yelped, as a cushion sailed towards his face. By the time he had composed himself, Verity was halfway down the ladder, cackling.
“You’re going to regret that, Wilde!”
“Not if I win!”
Over his shoulder, he watched her run, her laughter echoing through the trees as she stumbled over the uneven forest floor. The corners of his mouth turned up in to a small smile, as he shook his head, and clambered down to join her. Breaking in to a sprint, he passed her, and giggles turned in to a groan.
As he stood at her mother’s front door, she skidded to a halt, panting.
“Told you.”
“I demand a re-match…after food. I need a boost.”
Shaking his head, he chuckled and opened the door for her, before gently shoving her through it. Closing his eyes, and putting his fingers to his temples, he spoke in a lofty voice,
“I think we’re having...rabbit stew.”
“That was a terrible impression, and I’m telling Aunty Peg. Bully.”
“What do you mean? I can see the future, and the future is stew.”
“You can smell dinner, because you’re a wolf-boy with a giant appetite.”
Remus put his hand to his chest, mouth agape. “Rude.”
“True, though.”
“Yes, you’re True, but you’re still rude.”
Sticking out her tongue, Verity swung open the kitchen door, and was greeted by Hope.
“Alright, you two?” She said, wiping her hands on the front of her flowery apron.
“What’s for dinner? We’re starving.”
“Rabbit stew.”
With a look of triumph, Remus spun on his heel, hands on hips and a smug expression on his face.
“Celebrated Seer, Remus Lupin, does it again. What will he predict next?”
“Probably breakfast.”
“Aw, don’t be a spoilsport.” Looking down at her, his pseudo-confidence faded in to a pout, and Verity’s traitor-heart skipped a beat.
“I’m…I’m not.” She finished, lamely, as her cat slithered against her leg. As Remus sat down, Archimedes hopped in to his lap, purring deeply.
“Archie agrees with me.”
“Archie is a turncoat.”
Remus chuckled, scratching behind the tabby’s large ears. His mother plonked two steaming bowls in front of them, whipping the tea towel over her shoulder.
“Any idea where Nell and your father are?”
“They’re putting the finishing touches on the new cottage, I think?” Answered Verity, as Remus’ mouth was already full of food. He nodded, trying his best to look polite with bulging cheeks.
Opening the kitchen window, Hope hollered, “Wands down, you two, it's getting cold!”
“Have you thought of any names for the new house, Hope?”
“Well," she said, joining them at the table, "we’re stuck between Howl Hollow and Lupin Lodge.”
“It’s kind of a running joke now, and we want to stick to tradition.” Said Remus, shrugging his shoulders with a grin.
“I think it’s very fitting. Wolfy McWolf and his son, Wolf jnr, living in Wolf Cottage. Perfect.”
“You forget, my maiden name was Howell, so Remus didn’t really stand a chance - his name was always going to be wolfy.” Said Hope, conspiratorially, as Verity sniggered.
“Wolf by name, wolf by nature.”
“Alright, pack it in now.”
“Did you mean to make a pun? Are we your pack, Remie? That’s so cute.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t, you ruff me."
As Verity batted her eyelashes, she missed the dark blush creeping up Remus’ neck. His mum, however, did not.