A/N: When I first began explaining this idea to one of my friends, she asked if this was a Mary Sue fic where I was imagining myself in all of these different scenarios. The answer: no. Those fics are absolutely beautiful and I love reading them, but I've taken great precaution to separate myself from the character I created.

Okay, some slight alterations to the wonderful world J.K. Rowling created (which, disclaimer, is not me). In this fic, James' family raised him to be tolerant of muggles from the beginning and encouraged him to develop friendships with them before he left for Hogwarts. I tried to find a way to work around this to keep it more canon, but it ended up being too important to the plot. Other than an altogether new character being introduced, that should be the biggest change to the plot. I've done more research for this story than I have for any college paper I wrote, so hopefully it appears that way!

Chapter 1.

Why he'd chosen to walk instead of apparate, he had no idea.

Remus Lupin rounded the corner to finally turn onto the street the Burrow laid on, craning his neck for tell-tale signs of the Weasley twins' damage. There seemed to always be something slightly askew each time he'd come by, something the twins would pride themselves on. They'd even created a bet that if Remus could figure out what was different with the house by the time he left, they would treat him to a new cardigan. In return, if he hadn't discovered the problem, he would personally assist them with a prank on a professor of their choosing.

Remus was currently running out of closet space to store his winnings.

Today, however, the lawn was perfectly in tact, the windows were all accounted for, and the shingles were straight. In fact, the only thing that was different was the melancholy look that crowded the face of the man walking down the path.

He knew why he'd walked, knew why he'd made the five mile journey instead of arriving there instantaneously. He'd wanted to prolong the inevitable, to forget the reason why he'd been asked to come, to act for just a few more moments like there was nothing wrong. He'd thought that the walk would give him time to prepare what to say; instead, it had only worried him more. He'd thought the fresh air would help clear his head; instead, it only fogged it up more. He had no desire to do this, no will, no motivation. The only thing that kept him going was the small voice in the back of his head, whispering, It'll help.

He highly doubted that it would.

Remus took a moment to look up at the sky, something that always terrified him. A look up at the sky would tell him how much longer he had for normalcy, how much longer he had to pretend that everything was fine. The comfort provided from looking at the stars twinkling and the moon shining for nearly everyone else was nonexistent with him, though he tried hard to appreciate it. He was always able to find a little bit of comfort, however, when he saw the moon waning towards a close. The peace at knowing the worst part was four weeks away gave him a small ray of hope, and he was grateful for it as he walked closer to the door.

It had been several weeks since Sirius' untimely death, but the memory of it was still extremely prevalent. Remus had tried to drown away his sorrows in Firewhiskey, but the attempt proved to be futile. He had ended up smashing the glasses in frustration at still vividly recalling every second of the incident until he finally broke down on the sofa and began to sob. The thought of losing his best friend was too much, and the realization that he had no one left crushed him. He was entirely alone, save for the occasional visit from Tonks, and he felt the weight of it destroy every ounce of happiness he had remaining.

It had come as a surprise, then, when Molly asked him to come see Harry. He'd received the owl in a state of total inebriation, trying to block his mind from the wolf time creeping towards him. He'd stared at it with shaky hands, trying to focus on the words in front of him, unable to make sense of what it said. It wasn't until he'd fully recovered, four days later, that he'd been able to read the plea.

I know that this has been absolute hell for you, Molly had written, tear stains smudging some of the words, but I cannot watch Harry go through this alone. He looks terrible, he doesn't react to anything, and I'm so worried for him, Remus. I think it would benefit you both to spend some time together, to talk things over, to try to make sense of it all. Please, Remus, please come help.

And now, three days later, Remus found himself only feet away from the front door.

He stood there on the porch, simply staring at the door in front of him, trying to will himself to enter. He didn't know how to help Harry. He could barely help himself. He had nothing prepared, nothing to offer, nothing to think, nothing but sore feet from a long walk. What if this visit didn't do anything to help? What if he let Molly Weasley down?

Remus' thoughts were interrupted by the door swinging open, revealing the very person he was concerned about. "Remus," Molly sighed happily, squeezing him tightly into a hug. "Thank goodness you came."

Remus took in a breath and wrapped his arms around her in response. "Hello, Molly."

She took a step back and looked at him, obvious concern washing over her. "Did you walk here?"

"No," he lied. He didn't need to worry her anymore. "I apparated a little farther down the path is all." He knew she didn't buy it, knew he was a terrible liar, but she didn't question it. He breathed a silent cry of thanks for her choice to ignore it.

"And you're doing well?" she prodded.

He gave her a sad smile. "As well as I can be. How is he?"

She motioned for him to follow her and pointed in Harry's direction. "He's been like that ever since he came."

Remus took in James and Lily's son, hunched over and staring out the window. Harry looked exactly like he had not even twenty-four hours ago, with the same amount of sorrow and heaviness in the same places. Remus didn't know what to do at all.

"Harry," Molly called out. "Professor Lupin is here to see you."

Remus watched as Harry turned around slowly, offering him a small smile. "Hello, sir."

"Hi, Harry," he replied, deciding to cowboy up and sit next to him on the couch. He wouldn't let James and Lily's son down, he decided, and would at least give it a fair shot. "Feel as bad as I do?" he asked quietly.

Harry suppressed a laugh. "Definitely don't feel great."

Remus took in a huge sigh, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. "Me either."

Before either of them could say anything else, Molly came over. "Do you want anything?" she offered. "Some tea, a sandwich, anything at all?"

"Some tea would be lovely, Molly. Thank you." As Molly scurried away to prepare everything, Remus turned back to Harry. Molly wasn't lying, he thought as he looked his former student up and down. The sorrow was evident in every part of him, from his hooded eyes to his hunched back. Remus knew the sorrow only too well, but he cast aside his feelings as he took in the boy sitting next to him. He looked absolutely exhausted, evidence, Remus knew, of fitful sleep and endless nightmares over what had happened. Then, there was the added "bonus" of the whole wizarding world counting on him, the weight of the pressure as notable as the forlorn look in his eyes. Remus took it in, deciding that even if he could not do anything to make himself better, he would do everything in his power to help Harry.

Oh, James, Remus thought desperately, help me talk to your son.

He took in a breath and decided to begin with the obvious. "She's worried about you, you know."

Harry offered a weak nod back. "They all are. I've heard them. They try to stay quiet around me, but they're a little louder than they think."

"Well it's the Weasley's, Harry," Remus replied. "I don't think they know how to be quiet." He watched as Harry let a chuckle escape, bringing a smile to Remus' face. "It must be comforting to be surrounded by people who care for you so deeply."

Harry nodded again. "Do you have anyone with you, professor?"

"Tonks comes by and visits when it gets difficult," he admitted. "She's been very considerate the past couple of weeks. It's nice having her around. I keep telling her that it's dangerous for her to be around me, but…" he trailed off, looking directly out the window, his mind shifting to the girl he'd grown so fond of. Harry faced him, obviously waiting for him to continue, and Remus eventually breathed out, "but she keeps coming." Focus on Harry, not yourself, he chastised himself.

"You know you're always welcome here," Harry offered. "We would love to have you visit more often."

Remus stole a glance at James and Lily's son, smiling as he saw their faces meld together to form his. "Yes, I know. I'll be sure to take up that offer shortly, I promise."

Molly came with the tea shortly after, setting everything to their liking. After promising to check up on them in case they needed anything else, she set out upstairs, nudging Remus before she left. He knew she depended on him, knew that she thought he was the only way to help Harry. He gave her a small nod before she slipped away, a silent promise to try.

He didn't want to let Molly Weasley down.

The two sat there silently for a few moments after, sipping their tea nonchalantly and staring out the window. Although no words were spoken, there was a comfort in the grief that they shared. There was a relief that each of them felt as they watched the rain drops slide down the windowpane, neither of them pressuring the other to talk. This was the healing they both needed, Remus slowly realized, and for those few short moments, they took it in completely.

Tell him about her, he heard James' voice suddenly say. Tell him about her and Sirius.

Remus took in a breath as her smile immediately came to his mind. He slammed his eyes shut, trying to repeal the memory. It had been ages since he had thought of her, something he was beginning to become proud of. He had spent so much time trying to hide all evidence of her from his life, the thought of her too painful to relive after all that had happened. Now, after months, years, of blocking her out of his memory, she was suddenly back, this time spinning happily on a dance floor, reaching out for him to join her.

I can't, he thought, the image of her immediately changing to Sirius disappearing behind the veil again. It's too painful. There're too many memories. I can't.

Tell my son about the girl whose memory deserves to live.

Remus glanced towards Harry, taking in the brokenness before him. This wasn't his story to share. It deserved to be told by his godfather. It deserved to be told in a light hearted spirit, one that wasn't riddled with utter despair and sorrow. It deserved to be told with her sitting right next to Sirius, running her fingers through his hair and pointing out what was being over-exaggerated. It deserved to be relived in a happy setting. It deserved to have a happy ending. What good would a sad story do for an already sad child?

I can't, he thought again desperately, but another image—this time clearer and brighter than any before—of her came to mind, tears streaming down her cheeks, gently grasping his hand and whispering, "I'll never forget you."

He'd repeated it back to her, confident he could keep his promise, and then proceeded to spend the next several years doing everything in his power to defy it. It was too late to try to do her justice, he decided. It's too late for me to do anything for her.

Now we both know that's a pile of bollocks.

Remus' eyes flew open at the voice that entered his head. He tried to maintain a steady breath so as to not disturb Harry, but the owner of that phrase was undeniable. He'd been hearing James whisper in the back of his mind for ages, but now him? He supposed it was inevitable, considering he was gone too, but Remus couldn't even begin to wonder how this would begin to affect him.

Do it for me, Moony, Sirius said, interrupting his thoughts. Tell him about her for me.

Remus thought back to what Tonks had said on her last visit. They had been sitting on the floor by his small fireplace, each holding a cup of tea, when he'd admitted he heard James' voice occasionally, guiding him towards certain paths or directions. "He was the one who directed me towards the car that Harry ended up sitting in," he'd explained, staring at his cup instead of her face. "I went to sit in the one next to it and I heard him say, 'Why don't you sit on the one to the left?' I wouldn't have been there when the dementors attacked if I hadn't listened." He'd paused for a moment, rubbing his face with his free hand before looking back up at her. "I know I sound like a raving lunatic, but do you think it's possible that he's actually there?"

"I think it's absolutely possible," she'd said, staring up at him with gentle brown eyes. "I think that he was with you through some of your hardest moments growing up, and he doesn't intend on letting you be alone through these. I think that he'll be with you until he realizes you don't need him anymore. And I absolutely think that, knowing Sirius, he'll show up soon too."

Remus took another look at Harry. I don't know if I can, he argued, but even he could tell how weak it was. His resolve was crumbling as one more image popped into his head, this time of her sitting across from him at a dinner table. "Remus Lupin," she'd said in front of everyone, her voice loud enough for all to hear, "I don't think you realize how incredibly valuable you are."

A smile—a genuine, unapologetically happy smile—came to his face. He had forgotten her compassion, forgotten her grace. She'd accepted him openly and willingly, almost establishing a closer relationship with him than she had with James (though most certainly not with Sirius). She'd been his friend from the beginning and continued to be until the end. He was sure that even now, after so many years had passed, that she would gladly welcome him back into her life with open arms. That friendship was one of the purest ones he'd ever obtained and one of the few—outside of the relationship he had with James, Sirius, and yes, even Peter—that he could genuinely say shaped his life. He'd been so blessed by her; why had he ever forgotten?

So then don't do it for us, then, he heard James say.

Do it for her.

Remus set his cup down and idly picked up a spoon, stirring his tea ever so slightly. "Did you know that Sirius almost got married?" he said, hardly louder than a whisper.

Harry looked up at Remus, a questioning look on his face. "Married?"

Remus nodded. "Yup, to a muggle. An American one at that."

Harry gave him an incredulous look and set down his cup. "Really?"

"Seriously," Remus teased, nudging Harry with his elbow. Harry smiled at the age old pun before Remus continued, "Yeah, they got engaged right before he was thrown into Azkaban."

"What was her name?"

Remus took in a breath, letting it out when another smile crept onto his face. He turned his focus to the window in front of him. "Beth," he said, the smile slowly turning more joyful and at peace. "Her name was Beth."

"Beth," Harry tested. Remus could tell the intrigue was setting in. "Did you know her too, then?"

"We all did."

"Including my parents?" Harry inquired.

Remus nodded and turned his focus back towards him. "She was a friend of your dad's. That's how we all met her."

Harry sat back and turned toward him, giving him his devoted attention. "When did you meet her?"

Remus took in a deep breath as he relaxed into a similar position as Harry. "Oh, let's see. Two years before your parents died. So… the summer of 1979."

"Can you tell me about her?" Harry urged.

Remus gave Harry a long look, one that conveyed all of the heartache the story would entail but also all of the joy that would come from reliving each moment he spent with her. He took in yet another deep breath, allowing his mind to fall back to the first smile he ever saw from her, from the first time he met her. "Hi, I'm Beth." She'd shook his hand, then slightly stepped closer. "And I fully intend on being your best friend."

Finally, a smile. "I'd love to."