Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

19 February, 1981 - Nightmares (II)

Remus sighed and didn't answer the question. "Why the hell are you up?" he asked, a bit resignedly.

Lavinia frowned and pursed her lips slightly, regarding Remus with a mix of annoyance and relief. She didn't like that he hadn't answered. It made her feel like something must have gone wrong. Realistically, of course, it was probably just because he'd been given orders to keep his business for the Order to himself, but that didn't stop the fears from creeping in. Especially not on a night like this.

"Lost track of time," she lied easily. Too easily, really, but it was simpler than trying to explain how often fears that were a little too close to reality kept her from sleep. Then, unable to help herself, she continued, "I know your missions are need to know, but at least tell me if you're okay."

Remus's shoulders slumped slightly as he hung up his jacket. "I'm fine, Vin," he sighed, sounding like he understood all too well why she had pressed that particular point when she could see for her own eyes that he wasn't harmed. "And I'm sorry I can't tell you what I was doing," he continued, "I just..."

Lavinia shook her head, forcing a smile. "I get it," she replied easily. "Need to know. And I don't." It was the truth. She did get it. And didn't need to know. Even if, when Lavinia was being entirely honest with herself, it did rankle her slightly that she didn't know where her friends went. That if they didn't come home on time, she wouldn't even know where to look. But she also understood why all information was treated as top secret and only shared if Dumbledore gave the say so. It hurt, to be sure, but it made sense. Better safe than sorry, she reminded herself. Again. And again. And again.

"I really am sorry, Vin," Remus repeated, stifling a yawn and coming properly into the living room. He paused a little ways away and frowned at her, no doubt taking in the rumpled pajamas, the hair that had already started escaping her nightly bun and the small pile of socks on the coffee table.

"Why are you really up, Vin?" he pressed and there was something flat and tired in his voice that struck a painful chord in Lavinia's heart..

She sighed and debated whether or not to answer honestly. She didn't want him to worry any more than he already did. Both he and Sirius wasted too much energy on concern for her simply because they knew her history, knew that sometimes, when her pain mounted and tipped some invisible scale, she thought about the potions knife in her closet, even if she hadn't touched it in nearly a year. Knew that she, of all people, walked a very careful line. And she didn't know how to explain that this fear, this pain, wouldn't drive her to that. Didn't know how to convince him that these sleepless nights were not like the ones she'd had years ago. Didn't know how to make him believe her when she told him that there was no need to worry, no need to stress over her.

So she settled on lying, because it was easier and safer. But before she even opened her mouth, as if on cue, the music seemed to answer for her.

When every man is torn apart with nightmares and with dreams.

Lupin glanced at the speakers, then at her and raised his eyebrows. In response, Lavinia, scowling, turned and stuck out her tongue at the turntable. "Not helping, Linn," she snapped at it.

Remus snorted. "Linn?" he asked, a bit bemusedly.

"It's the brand," Lavinia explained, waving a dismissive hand. "It's what I've named him." Which was true. She'd sent plenty of nights and even days with Linn as her only company and at some point, with the amount of times she'd told him to shut up or hurry up or for Merlin's sake don't play that song, it had seemed only proper to give him a proper name.

"You've named our record player," Remus clarified, a bit drily. "Why am I surprised?"

Lavinia frowned at him, even as a smile tugged at her lips. "Okay, I resent that," she informed him frankly. "And yes, I've named him. Though Linn isn't a very good name. It doesn't suit him." Also true. 'Linn' felt like too gentle a name for the record player, but it had stuck and, besides, she couldn't be bothered to come up with a new one.