the_debt_of_time

Remus took a brief moment to glance at Hermione, whose brown eyes were almost
sparkling with awe as she stared at Fleur. He realised that Mia would have adored the
French girl.
Lost in thought about his long lost best friend, he was not prepared when Dora
smacked him on the side of the head.
"Ow!"
"You see?!" she shrieked loudly.
He gaped at the witch who, despite currently lacking her Metamorphmagi abilities,
had been able to turn her face a lovely shade of red.
"She still wants to marry him, even though he's infected! She doesn't care!"
Well, my six months is up, was his first thought.
He attempted to speak, wanting to talk to her in private, but for some reason—
perhaps because he was so used to pushing people away over the years—Remus opened
his mouth and the words, "It's different," came out. "Bill's not a full werewolf, and he―"
"I don't care!"
Remus flinched at her rage, never doubting for a second that the woman standing
in front of him was a Black.
"I've told you a million times―"
Embarrassed and defensive, Remus shouted back at her. "And I've told you a million
times that I am too old for you, too poor... too dangerous." He chanced a glance at Harry
and Hermione, who were both staring at him with looks of shock and disappointment.
Great, he thought. Just fucking great.
"I've said all along you're taking a ridiculous stance on this, Remus," Molly said,
glaring at him with a look that could have rivalled Dorea Potter and made him feel just as
foolish. Whatever ire he had expected her to give Fleur, she was now directing at him,
looking as though he were one of her own children that she was disappointed in.
"I am not being ridiculous," he muttered petulantly. "Dora deserves somebody
young and whole."
"But she wants you," Arthur spoke up with a small smile. "And, after all, Remus,
young and whole men do not necessarily remain so." He gestured sadly at his son, lying on
the bed.