I'm angry.
God, I'm angry. I haven't been this angry since-
I'm not even going to finish that sentence.
My hands are itching: I want to tear out my hair again; I want to pull out my wand and shoot sparks at random passers-by; I want to scream; I want to punch something; I want to throw a tantrum like a toddler.
But grown, responsible men don't do that sort of thing. And Remus Lupin - the one that people know - he certainly doesn't.
Then again, Remus Lupin doesn't argue with his best friends' orphaned son. Remus Lupin doesn't fire spells at said best friends' orphaned son. Remus Lupin doesn't lose control.
Remus Lupin doesn't get urges in the middle of a Muggle London street to rip off his cloak and howl at the moon like there's no tomorrow.
Except he does.

I don't really want to think about what's just happened, and yet my mind forces me to. There are multiple wars raging inside my head: I'm arguing with myself. I think the thing that really got to me was the fact that I revealed what I truly think of myself - and Harry agreed with me.
Ok, so maybe it's not quite like that. And maybe I'm just too used to being comforted; being told that I'm not really a monster, that I'm a "great person" and all that.
I don't get praise from within, so I rely on getting it from outside.
And when I don't...
I can't quite believe, either, that he accused me of "wanting to step into Sirius's shoes". Even thinking of it makes my hands clench in fury - how dare he-
Yes, there were many occasions when I was jealous of Sirius, the great, noble, good-looking, smart-without-trying-whatsoever, loyal, attractive (even I'll admit that), goddamn brilliant bastard that he is- was- is.
But to step into his shoes? To take Sirius's place as the slightly reckless yet responsible adult in Harry's life, to guide and mentor him through hard times, to be a father figure in his eyes...
Oh, God. That's exactly what I wanted.
Here we go again.
It's my fault. It's all my fault, and I, Remus Lupin, am a coward and an idiot and a promise-breaker and-
I ran away. Again.
Last time I ran away, two of my best friends died, a third betrayed them, and the fourth was framed for the third's actions and sent to prison, leaving me well and truly alone for twelve years.
So why did I do it again?
Because I'm a coward, that's why. Because Harry was right, and I don't know why Dora even loves me in the first place, and I don't deserve anything, and I wish it was full moon right now so that I could bite and scratch and tear and generally beat the shit out of myself...
But it's not. And I can't.
Dammit.

I've been too caught up in self-loathing to even notice where I'm going, but somehow my feet led me here of their own accord.
I've been pacing the streets, not knowing what I'm doing with myself, all day. It's getting late.
And I'm stood outside the Leaky Cauldron.
I hadn't realised that I needed alcohol, but I sure as hell do.
And fast.
The bartender, thank Merlin, doesn't say a word. She just gives me what I pay for and leaves me be.
And so, like in the old days, I sit there by myself: a grumpy old man wondering what went wrong.
I slam down the coins as soon as I finish my first pint, and the bartender goes off to prepare a refill for me.
I wait impatiently for her to put it down in front of me, I force myself to thank her, I resign myself to yet another hours-long drowning-my-sorrows session...
And my drink is snatched from underneath me and downed by the person sitting to my left.

"Lovely," says Andromeda, smacking her lips. "Delicious. Do people even say that about drinks?"
It's only then that she notices the look on my face.
"What's the matter, Lupin? Can't speak?"

There are many things going through my mind at the moment.
1. I am constantly surprised at Andromeda's youth, seeing as she's my mother-in-law.
2. Her daughter once said the exact same thing that she just said to me - and what's more, we were sat in exactly this place, she'd been sat next to me the whole time and I'd only just noticed her.
3. She reminds me of both Sirius and my wife in a strange and unnerving way.
4. How did she know I'd be here?
5. Andromeda Tonks, last time I checked, hates Remus Lupin.
6. It's slightly embarrassing to admit, but all I can think of, looking at her face, is the fact that I have had sex with this woman's daughter on multiple (wonderful, but I won't expand on that) occasions.
It's not the best of thoughts when you're trying to initiate normal conversation.
Still, I try.

"Please, call me Remus," I say, repeating exactly what I said to her daughter that night. She laughs.
"I suppose I should, really, seeing as you're my son-in-law."
I attempt a nervous chuckle in response to that - but there's more.
"And especially," she carries on, "seeing as my first grandchild is on the way."
I'm taken aback. "How did you-"
"I went to see Nymphadora-"
I smile at the sound of her name, remembering how I used to roll it off of my tongue back when I was first in love with her, before I remember what I did to her.
"-earlier today. She couldn't hide it from me for long."
She calls for another drink and turns to me.
"Now, speaking of Nymphadora-"
"Andromeda," I begin, "I-"
A wave of her hand signals to me that she doesn't want to hear my apology, or my explanation.
"I don't want to hear any of it," she says. "Look, Remus, you know how Ted and I feel about your... Ah..."
"Furry little problem?" I suggest, and I'm surprised by the dawning look on her face that follows.
"So that's what Sirius was on about... Anyway, you know what we think of it. You know exactly how we feel – well, no you don't. You don't know half of it."

I raise an eyebrow to that.

"You see, we don't just simply hate it and that's that. No, there's more to it than that – I'm not my mother, and I don't feel angry or hate you or anything like that. You see, I married Ted for love, against the will of my parents. And Nymphadora married you for love. So we just feel a bit – er – uncomfortable with it, that's all."

She shrugs.

"Then there was the whole issue with the fact that what with you being a coward and unable to see true love when it's staring you in the face and breaking our daughter's heart like it's never been broken before – not even when Charlie moved to Romania- sorry…"

I'd tensed up at the mention of Charlie Weasley's name – he's a nice kid, and I like him as much as the next person… It's just lucky that we got over our differences – well, more our similarities – the summer before Harry's fifth year.

"It's ok."

Andromeda gives me a small smile, before resuming the stern look on her face. "Anyway, I thought we were completely over that, but apparently not."

At this point she puts down her glass, drumming her fingers on the table and looking at me expectantly.

"Well?"

"I- I'm sorry. I know that it was the wrong thing to do, and you can't possibly imagine how guilty I feel now-"

I break off. She raises her eyebrows.

"It's not me you should be apologising to."

Suddenly my hands become very interesting.

"It's your wife."

Silence.

Andromeda sighs. "You're going back there tonight, Remus, whether you like it or not. My daughter's heart is broken – again – thanks to you, and I'm not going to put up with that much longer."

My mind is made up – I'm going back, and not just because of what Andromeda says. I owe it to my unborn child; I owe it to Dora.

It's just a case of building up the courage.

"I'm going back," I mutter. "I'm doing it now. I'm going to apparate there and I'm going to apologise and I'm going to hope she'll forgive me and still love me even though I'm the biggest coward in existence.

"That's better," says Andromeda, smiling. "You've just got to do it now."

I nod mutely.

"Oh, and Remus – before you go – one last thing. Congratulations."

I look up, and realise from the look on her face that she means it sincerely.

"And – er – if you do have a son, could you possibly name it after my Ted for me? Only I don't think any of us will survive this war, and it's selfish really, but I just want him to be remembered. That's all."

"Of course," I reply, finally able to talk again despite the lump in my throat. "I'll – I'll do – whatever – thank you, Andromeda." I take a deep breath. "I'll be on my way now."

She smiles somewhat expectantly and raises her glass slightly, in the way that Sirius always used to. "Good luck, Remus."

And with that, I disapparate.

It's only when I get home that I realise I'm not the only one who resorted to alcohol.

I first see her through the kitchen window, sitting there, alone, slumped onto the table.

What have I done?

I almost don't want to go inside, for more reasons than I can care to explain. But I can't bear to see her like that, all on her own, fragile and vulnerable – and know that I did that to her myself.

I've done a lot of terrible, terrible things in my life. But this one is right up there with the worst of them.

I force myself to open the door, and realise how deeply she must be sleeping. It's unusual, for her – she's the lightest sleeper I know.

Well, except James and Sirius, but they don't count.

I can't bear to wake her up, but I know that I have to. All it takes is one hand on her shoulder, and she shudders awake.

"Who's there? Mum? Are you a Death Eater? Dad?"

Ok, maybe not quite awake.

I try to make my voice as gentle and soothing as possible, but it comes out as shaky and stuttered, like an old record.

"No, Dora, it's not a Death Eater. It's… It's…"

I don't know what to say to finish that sentence.

Luckily – well, it depends on how you define the word 'lucky' – I don't need to.

She spins round, grabbing me by the scruff of the neck, and pins me up against the wall, her wand pulled out of nowhere and pointing at my neck.

"What," she begins, "did Remus Lupin say to Nymphadora Tonks when he first saw her in a dress, and what was he doing at the time?"

Her voice, too, is shaky, as if she's about to cry.

"He was playing chess with Sirius Black," I say, ignoring the lump in my throat, "and he didn't say anything, he was too busy staring like no gentleman should."

"Correct."

She keeps me pinned up against the wall, though.

I don't want to ruin my chances, so I let her speak first. She takes a deep, shuddery breath, then throws me onto the nearest sofa.

God, she's scary when she's angry. Probably something to do with her loss of all clumsiness.

I barely have time to think before she's picked up something –one of her army-style combat boots – and thrown it at my head.

"REMUS JOHN LUPIN, YOU ARE THE MOST COWARDLY, COLD-HEARTED, INCONSIDERATE MONSTER THAT I HAVE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE TO MEET."

Ouch.

Ouch.

That hurt. That hurt a lot.

She called me monster. Nobody calls me monster except myself.

Nymphadora certainly doesn't.

"I HATE YOU, I HATE THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU, AND I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND THAT."

Yes, Dora. I hear you loud and clear. And, Merlin, it's like you're stabbing me.

"YOU COMPLETELY DISREGARD ANY FEELINGS THAT I MIGHT HAVE FOR YOU, YOU DON'T SEEM TO UNDERSTAND WHAT THE FACT THAT I LOVE YOU MEANS, AND I AM SICK AND TIRED OF HAVING MY HEART BROKEN BY A LONELY OLD BASTARD WHO'S TEN YEARS OLDER THAN ME."

Thirteen. Thirteen years, but I'm not about to say that out loud.

"I AM SO FUCKING DONE WITH YOU AND ALL OF YOUR SHIT-"

Another boot and a whole load of books come flying at me.

"AND I HOPE TO GOD THAT YOU HAVE A GOOD EXCUSE, BECAUSE I COULD STRANGLE YOU RIGHT NOW."

I look at my feet. "Nymphy, I-"

"DON'T CALL ME NYMPHADORA!"

She's positively shrieking by now, and I suddenly realise what James and Sirius must have felt like when Lily was yelling at them.

I feel sorry for them.

"Fine, then. Tonks. All I can do is apologise, because I know I did a shitty thing, and I take full blame, as I damn well should, because it's all my fault and I hate myself for it and you know that and-"

I look up.

She's crying.

"Do- Tonks, I-"

"It's not Tonks, anymore, remember?" she sniffs. "It's Lupin."

"A… And you want it to stay that way?"

"Of course I do, dumbass. I love you, don't you understand? I don't care that you're a coward, just like I don't care that you turn into a goddamn wolf once a month, because I love you. And I can't forgive you, not quite yet, I can't bring myself to do that, but I still love you. Do you understand?"

I nod.

"Don't you dare," she's barely able to speak now, and I realise that I'm crying too. "Don't you dare ever do that to me again, you hear me?"

I nod again. I reach out to hold her hand, but she pushes me away. "I can't bring myself to do that, either. I can't let you comfort me, and I can't kiss you, and I can't even touch you, because I'm just too hurt by what you did to me… Just give me some time. I need some time, that's all. I'm not saying I'm not glad that you came back tonight, but I… Just…"

She shakes her head, crying, and walks out of the room.

I stare after her, a million thoughts contaminating my brain. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, even with mascara running in rivers down her face, and I can't believe I've done something to her so bad that she can't bear to touch me.

I sigh. It'll be a long while before she trusts me again, that's for sure.

It'll be a long while before I trust myself.

But what can I do?

I'm only a coward.