Hey, Remus!

The morning Maria arrived at the Burrow was bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to the heavy gloom she had felt leaving Grimmauld Place. She stumbled slightly as she stepped out of the Floo Network, brushing soot off her coat as she blinked at her surroundings. The Burrow stood before her in all its quirky, crooked charm, and Maria couldn't help but stare.
The house was unlike anything she'd ever seen. Ramshackle and impossibly tall, with upper floors that seemed to teeter precariously atop the lower ones. It looked as though it had grown organically, as if each new addition had been tacked on whenever it was needed, without much regard for logic or symmetry. The result was something whimsical and warm, a house that practically hummed with life.
The garden was alive with color, wildflowers blooming in every corner and vines creeping up the walls. A small flock of chickens pecked around near the door, and a gnome darted across the path, startling Maria into a quiet laugh. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, feeling a pang of nervousness in her chest as she took it all in.
Before she could linger too long, Molly Weasley bustled out of the front door, her apron dusted with flour and her wand tucked behind her ear.
"Mary, dear! There you are!" she called, her voice warm and welcoming.
Maria stepped forward, trying to brush off the lingering awkwardness of travel by Floo. "Mrs. Weasley, thank you for letting me stay," she said, managing a small, grateful smile.
"Oh, none of that 'Mrs. Weasley' nonsense! It's Molly," she insisted, pulling Maria into a quick, motherly hug. Maria stiffened for a moment, surprised by the gesture, but Molly's warmth was infectious, and she relaxed slightly.
"Come along now, dear," Molly said, stepping back and waving her toward the door. "You must be starving after your journey. And we've got plenty to keep you busy once you're settled!"
Maria followed her inside, ducking slightly as they passed under the low wooden beams, the sound of chickens and distant laughter fading behind her. As she crossed the threshold, she couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of nervousness and comfort. The Burrow was chaotic and full of life, a world away from the eerie stillness of Grimmauld Place. And yet, somehow, it already felt like a refuge.
The kitchen was cozy and smelled of fresh bread and herbs, with pots clattering on the stove as if moving on their own. The table was cluttered with newspapers, teacups, and a sewing kit, but the mess was oddly comforting.
As Molly fussed about, setting out tea and biscuits, Maria couldn't help but feel a pang of self-consciousness. The Burrow was warm and welcoming, yes, but it was also bustling with life: family photographs hung on the walls, and children's laughter echoed faintly from upstairs. It was nothing like the cold, empty halls of Grimmauld Place.
You're a sweet girl, taking up with Remus like you have," Molly said suddenly, her voice breaking the quiet hum of the kitchen. Maria looked up from where she was peeling potatoes, startled by the unexpected comment. Molly turned from the stove, her expression warm but with a glimmer of something more curious and hesitant in her eyes.
"Thank you," Maria replied softly, unsure of what else to say. She returned to her task, but she could feel Molly watching her.
After a moment, Molly spoke again, her tone casual but carrying a pointed undercurrent. "I do have to ask..." She hesitated, as though weighing her words carefully.
Maria looked up, her heart beating a little faster.
"Yes?"
Molly tilted her head, the corners of her mouth twitching into a polite smile.
"You've been living with him, haven't you? As a couple?"
The question hung in the air, heavier than Maria had expected. She could feel her cheeks flush as Molly's gaze lingered, a mixture of curiosity, concern, and just the faintest hint of judgment.
"Yes," Maria said, her voice steady despite the sudden heat in her face. She knew she couldn't lie, even if she wanted to. "We've been living together."
Her tone was straightforward, but she could feel her fingers tightening nervously around the potato peeler in her hand. Molly's eyebrows lifted slightly, and her lips pressed together in a thin line. For a moment, she said nothing, turning back to the stove to stir the pot of soup bubbling there. Maria could sense her internal conflict: the way her affection for Remus and her growing fondness for her clashed with her deeply ingrained values.
"Well," Molly said finally, glancing over her shoulder with a look that was both kind and disapproving. "I suppose things are different these days, aren't they? Still..." She sighed, her expression softening despite herself. "I can't say I understand it. It's not the way things were done when Arthur and I were dating. But then again..." Her voice trailed off, and she looked away, as though unsure how to finish her thought.
Maria set down the potato she'd been peeling and folded her hands in her lap. She could feel her heart pounding.
"I understand why you might feel that way," Maria said quietly, her gaze fixed on her hands. "But the truth is... it wasn't something we planned or even chose at first. When I... arrived, I didn't have anywhere else to go. Remus was just there. We ended up spending so much time together, and... well, things happened naturally." She hesitated, her cheeks flushing. "It might not seem proper, but it's the truth. And now, I can't imagine my life without him."
Molly turned back to her, her expression softening further at Maria's earnestness.
"Oh, Mary, I don't doubt how much you care for him. And I know Remus. He's a good man. One of the best. He deserves happiness, and if you've brought that into his life, then..." She sighed again, shaking her head as though trying to dispel her lingering unease. "Well, who am I to judge? You've clearly thought this through."
Maria offered a small, tentative smile.
"I have. We have. And I promise, Molly, I would never do anything to hurt him or bring shame to his name. He means too much to me."
Molly studied her for a long moment, then nodded, her expression softening fully.
"I can see that," she said quietly. "And I have to admit... I've grown fond of you already. You've got a good heart, Mary. And if you're good for Remus, then that's all I really care about."
Maria's smile widened slightly, though her cheeks were still pink with embarrassment.
"Thank you," she said softly. "That means a lot to me."
Molly gave a small, approving hum and turned back to her cooking.
"Well, then," she said briskly, her tone lighter now. "If you're going to be staying here, we'd best put you to work. There's plenty to do around this house, and I imagine you'll want to keep busy."
Maria nodded, grateful for the change in subject.
"Of course," she said, picking up her peeler again. "I'd like to help however I can."
Molly glanced at her again, her expression warm.
"Well, if anyone can make him happy, it's you. Just make sure he takes care of himself, won't you? He's always had a habit of putting everyone else first."
"I will," Maria promised, her voice soft but resolute.
And with that, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, leaving Maria feeling a little more at ease. And even more determined to prove herself worthy of the faith Molly had in her.
As the days passed, Maria found herself settling into life at the Burrow. Molly, despite her old-fashioned remarks, was kind and attentive, and Maria grew to appreciate her sharp wit and no-nonsense attitude.
At first, Maria felt out of place among the hustle and bustle of the Weasley household. She wasn't particularly skilled in the kitchen, much to Molly's bemusement, and her attempts to help with chores often resulted in more work for everyone else. One afternoon, she had tried to charm the dishes into washing themselves, only for the entire rack to come crashing down with a loud clatter. Molly had hurried in, her wand already in hand, to find Maria standing sheepishly amid a sea of broken plates and suds.
"I'm so sorry," Maria stammered, her face red.
Molly had sighed but waved her wand to clean up the mess.
"Well, you've got enthusiasm, I'll give you that," she said with a faint smile. "Next time, just call for me, dear. I'll show you how it's done."
To Maria's surprise, Molly's fondness for her seemed to grow despite — or perhaps because of — her clumsiness. Maria's genuine efforts to help, combined with her quiet kindness, didn't go unnoticed. She spent her evenings chatting with Molly while knitting or peeling potatoes, and she often found herself laughing at the older woman's stories about her children.
"She's a good one," Maria overheard Molly telling Arthur one night as she passed by the kitchen. "Bit of a mess in the kitchen, but her heart's in the right place. And Merlin knows Remus deserves someone who cares about him."
Hearing those words warmed Maria's chest, and for the first time since Remus had left, she felt a small spark of hope. The Burrow might not be home, but it was something close to it.
But The Burrow's cozy walls and Molly's endless kindness couldn't entirely lift the shadow that hung over Maria in the days after she moved in. She tried to keep herself busy, trying to help with chores or losing herself in the cheerful chaos of the Weasley family, but it was as though a weight had settled on her chest, making it difficult to truly engage. She was haunted by thoughts of Remus: wondering where he was, if he was safe, if he'd had anything to eat that day. Her mind also wandered, often painfully, to her parents, still lost in her original world. It felt like there was too much to carry, and no one to share the burden with.
It didn't take long for Tonks to notice that something was wrong. She arrived at the Burrow one crisp autumn afternoon, her usual lively demeanor noticeably absent. Normally, Tonks would have burst into the kitchen with a joke or a clumsy mishap, sending Molly into a half-amused scolding. But today, she slipped in quietly, her sharp, dark eyes scanning the room with purpose until they landed on Maria.
Maria sat slumped at the kitchen table, listlessly peeling potatoes for Molly. The pile of unpeeled ones barely seemed to shrink, despite her slow, repetitive motions. Her shoulders were hunched, her hair a little unkempt, and her face pale and drawn, as though she hadn't slept in days.
"Mary," Tonks said softly, pulling out the chair next to her without hesitation. She dropped into it, her tone gentle but probing. "What's going on? You look like you've just lost a Quidditch match, your wand snapped in half, and someone set your favorite book on fire."
Maria flinched at the sound of her name but didn't look up. She made a half-hearted attempt at a smile, one that didn't even come close to reaching her tired eyes.
"I'm fine," she mumbled, her voice flat. "Just... tired."
Tonks arched an eyebrow, leaning forward and folding her arms on the table.
"Don't give me that," she said firmly, though her voice stayed soft. "I've seen garden gnomes with more energy than you lately. You're not fine, Mary. What's wrong?"
For a long moment, Maria didn't respond. Her fingers tightened on the potato peeler, her knuckles going white. She stared down at the table as if she could disappear into the grain of the wood if she focused hard enough. But finally, her resolve cracked, and she let out a heavy, shaky sigh.
"I'm worried, Tonks," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "About Remus, about my parents... about everything. I can't stop thinking about it." She blinked rapidly, as if trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. Her voice broke as she continued. "What if I changed too much? What if he doesn't come back this time because of me? What if... what if I've ruined everything?"
Tonks frowned deeply, her concern etched into every line of her face.
"Mary..." she began, but Maria cut her off, the words tumbling out now like water breaking through a dam.
"I mean, I already changed his life so much," she said, her voice trembling. "He was supposed to come back from this mission. That's what the books said, but I've thrown everything off, haven't I? What if this is the thing that gets him killed? What if..." Her breath hitched, and she finally looked at Tonks, her eyes brimming with tears. "What if he dies because of me?"
Tonks reached out instinctively, covering Maria's hand with her own. Her grip was firm, grounding, but Maria didn't seem to notice. She was too lost in her spiraling thoughts.
"And my parents," Maria continued, her voice growing quieter but no less anguished. "I don't even know if they're okay. And they don't know where I am, or if I'm even alive. I'm failing them. I'm failing everyone."
Tonks tightened her grip on Maria's hand, her other hand gently resting on Maria's shoulder.
"Hey," she said softly but urgently. "You listen to me, Mary. You're not failing anyone. Do you hear me? Not Remus, not your parents, no one."
Maria shook her head, her tears spilling over as she whispered:
"But I... "
"No," Tonks interrupted firmly. "Stop that. I get it, I do. You're scared, and you're worried, and you're human. But you can't let this eat you alive. You can't fall apart like this over a man."
To Tonks's surprise, Maria let out a laugh, an actual laugh, albeit bitter and laced with irony. She set the peeler down and pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead.
"Of all the people to say that to me... You don't see the irony, do you?" She said, swiping at her cheeks. "In the books... the ones about this world... you were the one who fell apart over him. When he didn't want to be with you, you got so depressed that you lost your ability to change your looks. And your Patronus turned into a wolf." She let out a small, sad chuckle, though there was a faint tremor in her voice. "I guess that's when people really knew how much you loved him."
Tonks stared at her, her mouth slightly open.
"You're kidding."
"I'm not," Maria said, shrugging. "You were devastated. But it wasn't because of something like this mission. It was because he didn't think he was good enough for you. Because of his self-loathing."
Tonks blinked rapidly, as though trying to process what she'd just heard. She leaned back in her chair, staring at Maria like she'd just claimed the sky was purple.
"Merlin's beard. I don't even know where to start with that. I lost my ability to morph? My Patronus changed? Over Remus?" She shook her head, letting out a low whistle. "Well, thank Merlin that's not how things turned out for me, because that sounds miserable. That poor version of me... I almost feel bad for her."
Maria let out a quiet laugh, though there was still a wistfulness in her eyes. Tonks narrowed her eyes, a smirk creeping onto her lips.
"And not to make it weird or anything, but I'm ridiculously happy with Alfred. So, thanks for that, I guess?" She grinned cheekily, though her eyes softened as she studied Maria.
Maria laughed again, the sound lighter this time.
"You're welcome," she said, shaking her head.
"Still, though," Tonks continued, leaning forward with an amused glint in her eye, "there must be something about Remus Lupin. You're here, tearing your heart out over him. I was apparently ready to do the same in your version of things. What is it about him?"
Maria tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile despite the sadness lingering in her expression.
"He's addictive," she said simply, as though no other explanation was needed.
Tonks let out a snort of laughter, her grin widening.
"Addictive. I'll have to remember that. Maybe I should warn people about him. You know, make a little leaflet or something: Caution: may cause emotional devastation."
Maria laughed again, this time loud enough to fill the kitchen for a moment. She felt the tightness in her chest loosen slightly, if only for a moment, and the sound of her own laughter surprised her.
Tonks grinned at her, leaning back in her chair.
"See? There's that beautiful smile. I knew I could get it out of you."
Maria's laughter faded, but the warmth in her expression remained as she looked at Tonks.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "For making me laugh. I really needed that."
"Anytime," Tonks replied, reaching across the table to squeeze Maria's hand. "Seriously. If you need someone to shake some sense into you or just sit around eating biscuits and moaning about life, you know where to find me."
For a brief moment, Maria felt the weight of her worries lift, like a beam of sunlight cutting through storm clouds. But as the moment of levity passed, the heaviness crept back in, settling into her chest once more. She looked down at her lap, her smile fading slightly.
"It's just..." Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. "What if I've changed too much? I gave him hope, Tonks. I gave him the belief that he could have a normal future, but what if that future doesn't happen now?"
Tonks's teasing expression softened instantly, and she straightened in her seat, her hand tightening on Maria's.
"Hey," she said gently. "I get it, Mary. I do. But you've got to trust that Remus is doing everything he can to come back to you. He's a tough bastard, you know that better than anyone. And you? You've already done so much for him. You gave him something to fight for. He's out there, fighting to come back to you."
Maria nodded, though her throat was too tight to speak. Tonks hesitated, then added quietly,
"Look, I know it's hard to believe right now, but you've got to hold on to hope. It's what keeps us going, yeah? And in the meantime, you've got me. I'm not going anywhere."
Maria managed a small, shaky smile and squeezed Tonks's hand in return.
"Thanks for being my friend," she whispered, and for the first time in days, she felt a faint flicker of comfort amidst the storm raging in her heart.