the_debt_of_time

She could tell he wanted to collapse and just let the sadness wash over him, but
Potters pushed on; Dorea told her as much the first morning that she had woken at Potter
Manor, more than six years earlier:
"No frowning now. I know you have had some hardships lately, but we're Potters, and we push
on. You take what happens, learn from it, and bravely move forward."
"Come on, son." Charlus reached down and helped pull Remus to his feet, patting
him on the back when he finally stood.
"My mother died," Remus muttered quietly.
Charlus frowned, keeping a hand on his shoulder for support as they walked down
the hallway. "I know, son. I know."
"What am I going to do?"
Taking a deep breath, Charlus faced Remus directly and looked him square in the
eye. "You're going to let us take care of you. Now, head on in there; I'll be right outside
the door. Dorea's getting bored and needs someone to fuss over for a bit. You know how
these Potter women like to dote."
Once the door to Dorea's room closed, Mia swallowed and looked around
anxiously. "Where is everyone?"
Charlus cleared his throat. "Mia, the Healer came by, and... It doesn't look good."
She lowered her head in painful understanding. "How long?"
"They.. ." he started to say but stopped to clear his throat. "They say she won't
last the night."
Mia wanted to cry. She wanted to scream, and hex, and possibly set fire to the entire
building in a rage of emotions, but she was a Potter. Not just any Potter—she
was Dorea Potter's daughter, and such actions were rash and reckless. Despite her House
colours from both timelines, Mia had come to accept that she was a little greener than red,
these days, and a little more silver than gold. She had to keep it together if she was going
to be surrounded by grieving Gryffindors.
She held her head higher, shoving down the need to cry in order to try and take
charge of the situation. People depended on her right now. Her family depended on her.
Her pack depended on her.
"Is she in pain?"
"No."