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Summary
The voice that rouses him from his thoughts is decidedly more feminine than Remus expects it to be. “Room for me?”
He looks up.
There she stands; for a moment, it is as though the years melt away and Remus is seventeen all over again. Rosmerta is smiling down at him, a bottle of the elf-made wine in her hand. The two of them used to drink wine together all those years ago, too...