Be the Light in My Lantern, chapter 15
Dec. 11th, 2014 03:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starfishstarBE THE LIGHT IN MY LANTERN
Summary: In which Remus and Tonks fight battles, arrest criminals, befriend werewolves, overcome inner demons and, despite it all, find themselves a happy ending. A love story, and a story of the Order years. (At long last, my Remus/Tonks epic, which has been years in the making!)
Chapter 15: Things Unsaid
Sweet on me
Say that you're sweet on me
And I will fall like an avalanche
At your feet
–Aly Tadros, Sweet on Me
Tonks felt her mind wandering again and yanked it back to the task at hand. Which was, unfortunately, work of the most boring kind, fact-checking a stack of Auror reports on the continued hunt for the ten escaped Azkaban prisoners. All the reports basically boiled down to the same thing: No progress.
It was the kind of menial task that so often fell to junior Aurors, but in this particular case there was a benefit: It gave Tonks the access she needed to make a secret second copy of each report, to be passed on to the Order of the Phoenix.
That act alone was a breach of Ministry protocol serious enough to lose Tonks her job, and it was a mark of how dire things were that she didn't think twice about doing it. With Voldemort poised to take over and the Ministry determined not to see, she would do what needed to be done.
Tonks shuffled another paper between the "to be checked" and "already checked" piles and allowed herself a small inward sigh. Everything in the documents was accurate, as far as it went, but they were wasting precious Auror hours looking for Death Eaters in pointless places. Tibet, for example, because there'd been that point when Kingsley had been able to make it look as if Sirius had been spotted there, to throw the other Aurors off his trail. And now Kingsley couldn't exactly admit that Sirius had never been in Tibet in the first place without giving away that he'd made the entire thing up.
There were a few bright spots in the general Ministry murk, though. Buckwaite, for example, an Auror about ten years Tonks' senior. He'd recently dropped by her desk unannounced, one afternoon when the office was nearly deserted, and pulled up a chair.
"Does seem hard to believe, doesn't it, that ten hardened criminals would stay stuck in Azkaban all these years, only to decide they're suddenly in a hurry to rally around Sirius Black?" he asked as soon as he was seated. Tonks had always appreciated Buckwaite's no-nonsense approach.
She nodded cautiously, twiddling her quill in her hand and letting him do the talking. It seemed absurd to be so careful, but these days you never knew who was saying what they actually thought, and who had been sent to keep an ear out for the foolishly paranoid Fudge.
Leaning forwards on his borrowed chair, Buckwaite continued, "Black is as bad as they come, for sure, but he's not…well, he's not You Know Who." He gave Tonks a searching look, clearly not sure how much he dared to say.
"There are certainly things that don't add up," Tonks agreed, keeping her tone neutral.
"And you generally seem to have a good idea what's going on," Buckwaite continued. "So if you hear anything more…I suppose I'd be curious to know about it."
"Sure," Tonks agreed. That was easy enough, and kept the Quaffle in her possession too. She could decide how much it was safe to tell him, or not.
"Well," he said, standing abruptly. "I guess that case file isn't going to read itself." With a friendly parting nod, he headed back to his own desk.
Remembering that conversation now, Tonks felt heartened. It was good to know there were people like Buckwaite at the Ministry. He might even be a help to her and Kingsley as they tried to gently lean on Scrimgeour to lean on Fudge to allow the Aurors to shift their focus. Tonks was pretty sure Scrimgeour didn't believe Fudge's fantasies – that Sirius was the great enemy, or that Dumbledore was secretly working to unseat Fudge – any more than she herself did. But Scrimgeour was savvy, too, and liked to hedge his political bets.
As Tonks signed off on another document, her mind wandered away from her yet again, this time to Remus. The nights they’d been able to spend together had been few and far between, though each one was lovelier than the last. Tonks was learning all the different tender expressions Remus showed her, all the different ways his eyes crinkled with humour and joy when they were together. Even in the midst of dull paperwork, the thought of Remus’ smile made her grin.
In public, though, he was increasingly distant. Which meant increasingly distant was the only part of him Tonks got to see, since in public was the only place they’d got a chance to cross paths for a while now. And she couldn’t read him when he was like that, when he smiled politely across the crowded table in the basement kitchen, no hint of any personal feeling in his eyes.
Hot and cold. Remus running hot and cold. Because then, two evenings ago, Tonks had dropped by the house to leave some documents with Sirius, and Remus had found her in the entrance hall as she was leaving and swept her up in a kiss so passionate, even now her knees went shaky thinking about it. “I’ll see you soon, I promise,” he’d whispered when they broke apart, both dazed, and then he’d disappeared down the basement stairs.
Except he hadn’t. She hadn’t seen Remus since then. She would presumably see him tonight at the Order meeting, but that would be in public again, in distant mode. And Tonks was getting sick of trying to calculate how Remus would respond to her any given time she saw him, whether this time he’d act like a lover or a stranger.
"Tonks," hissed Albert Buckle, the second most junior Auror. Tonks snapped her head up to see Scrimgeour headed their way, passing through the Aurors' cubicles on his way out to the main corridor. She collected herself just in time to give her boss a professional nod as he passed, then shot Buckle a grateful smile and turned her attention back to her work.
Before she left for the Order meeting tonight, she'd find a chance to copy these reports, and sneak them out of the Ministry inside the sleeve of her robes.
The things she did for justice!
– – – – –
"I imagine some of you are growing tired of waiting to take action," Dumbledore said, and Tonks thought she saw his eyes twinkle in her direction, before he returned to solemnly addressing the entire Order. "All I can tell you is that I feel sure it won't be long before Voldemort moves into the open. And when he does so, we shall be ready for him."
From far down one side of the table, Tonks couldn't help bursting out, "But all this time, he's gathering more people to fight for him!"
Now Dumbledore really did send a smile her way. "Indeed. But so are we."
Tonks looked around and saw that the basement kitchen, cavernous though it was, really was almost uncomfortably crowded. Nearly everyone had turned up for this meeting, even McGonagall and Snape, who usually stayed behind to hold down the Hogwarts fort when Dumbledore was away.
"We have strengths Voldemort can only dream of, and we know more about him than he can imagine," Dumbledore continued. He looked around the room and nodded to himself, looking quietly pleased. "And speaking of being ready for the battles we are sure to face, Alastor has a proposal for you."
Dumbledore ceded the floor and took a seat at the table as Mad-Eye Moody stumped to the front of the room.
"It's more Dumbledore's idea than mine," Moody began, "but I'll be taking the practical end of things. Duelling training. Consider the fact that Aurors, no matter how advanced, never stop practising their duelling skills and advanced spells. Because better wizards than any of us have been killed in a moment of distraction." He stared around the room ominously. "I do realise you're all fully trained wizards, so no one is obliged to stay. But Sirius here has made the house's wine cellar available as a practice space, and I'm willing to run some drills after meetings, starting today."
The room was silent, and it occurred to Tonks that this series of blunt statements had actually been Moody's way of posing a question. "I think that's a terrific idea," she said. "You can never train enough, and I'm glad to learn anything Mad-Eye’s willing to teach."
From across the table, Remus was the next to speak. "We're none of us too old to learn new things," he said. "And I know for me, at least, it's been a long time since theoretical knowledge was put into regular practice. I'd like to know I've prepared in every way I could, if it ever comes down to any one of you trusting your lives to my duelling skills."
Tonks smiled across at him, pleased to hear him voice support for her old mentor, and Remus smiled back – then looked away.
She gritted her teeth in frustration. Would it kill him to act normally? Or at least to have a proper conversation with her about why he insisted on being this way? Remus was such a master at dodging questions he didn’t want to answer.
There was a scraping of chairs, and Tonks realised the group must have agreed to Moody's proposal while her thoughts were elsewhere. Sirius was ushering everyone towards a small door off the kitchen.
Tonks looked again for Remus, and was surprised to see him and Mad-Eye conferring with Dumbledore, with Snape and McGonagall also nearby. Moving sideways through the crowd that was funnelling into the wine cellar, Tonks tried to get close enough to hear what they were saying.
Dumbledore's voice reached her in small snippets over the general chatter. "…a time when I am forced to leave…" he was saying, his attention directed to Mad-Eye and Remus. "…with Minerva and Severus, of course…" And then: "…but it would be a great relief to know that both of you…"
The rest of the conversation was lost to Tonks entirely, as she was carried along down a narrow, twisting staircase that descended to a cellar even deeper than the kitchen.
It was an enormous subterranean space – yet another of the house's many secrets, though Tonks supposed by this point she should just stop being surprised. This cellar-below-the-cellar looked as if it had lain untouched for years, the heavy wooden shelves along its walls stocked with bottles whose labels were nearly obscured beneath a blanket of dust.
"I did put a cushioning spell on all those shelves before inviting Moody down here to wreak havoc. Wouldn't do to have good wine go to waste, no matter who originally owned it," a voice said in her ear, and Tonks looked around to see Sirius smirking at her.
Tonks smiled back. "How come you kept the good stuff a secret all this time, huh?"
"Because after Moody asked, it took me a solid two weeks to get into this room past all the protective jinxes my father put on his precious wine collection," Sirius replied, and Tonks saw he wasn't joking.
"Form pairs!" Moody called from one end of the cellar.
"Partner?" Tonks asked Sirius.
"Sure," he agreed, looking surprised.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tonks saw that Remus had made it down to the wine cellar as well, though Dumbledore seemed to have departed together with Snape and McGonagall. She was dying to know from Remus what Dumbledore had been discussing with him, but she knew better than to try to talk to the infuriating man in public.
"Today," Moody told the assembled group, which Tonks was pleased to see included nearly everyone who'd been at the meeting, "we'll be focusing on accuracy. How well can you aim a curse or a jinx? How many can you cast in the space of a minute and still be on target? Can you aim with your eyes closed?" Without breaking his conversational tone, Moody pointed his wand behind his back and shot off ten rapid-fire jets of magenta light at a target he'd affixed to the wall behind him. Within seconds, ten magenta marks clustered around the bullseye.
"That's setting unrealistic expectations, Mad-Eye!" Tonks called. "Not all of us have eyes in the back of our heads, you know!"
Moody fixed her with his beady stare, but she could tell by the tiny twitch at one side of his mouth that he was amused. "Which means you need to train twice as hard," he growled. "Now, practise!"
With a flick of his wand, Moody doled out parchment targets similar to the one he'd used, and the Order members spread out through the enormous, dimly lit cellar, partners taking turns aiming and spotting one another. Then Moody had them aim at a levitating, moving target while their partners stood in the way and tried to block their shots, then they aimed, whilst blindfolded, at their partners, who guided them by the sound of their voices. It was enormously fun, and reminded Tonks why she'd enjoyed Auror basic training so much.
Best of all, Sirius was clearly having a blast. Tonks hadn't seen him smile so much since, well, certainly at least since Harry had last been in the house. Clearly, battle agreed with her cousin.
Once they’d run through his series of training exercises, Moody let them simply duel, with no specific assignment beyond of course not to injure one another in earnest.
"You ready, cousin?" Tonks asked, as Moody counted to three at the far end of the room.
"The question," Sirius retorted, "is whether you are ready for me."
Then Moody shouted, "Go!" and they were duelling.
Sirius was good, ferocious even, clearly channelling all his frustrations into the working of his wand. The only thing that worried Tonks was how reckless he was, always going for the big, showy move instead of the sensible one.
"Sirius, keep your eyes on my face!" she shouted over the hubbub of the pairs of duellists around them. "Stop distracting yourself with your own cleverness!"
Sirius smirked and used her own distraction as she spoke to get in a sneaky little spell that knocked her legs out from her.
"Fair enough," Tonks groused, as Sirius gave her a sporting hand up from the floor. They nodded, waited a silent count of three, then continued.
“So what’s the deal with you and old Moony lately?” Sirius asked, and Tonks swore under her breath, because he’d startled her enough to allow him to get in a Jelly-Legs Jinx.
“That was underhanded,” she complained, as she performed the countercurse on her legs and shot off a Stinging Hex at Sirius mostly out of spite.
He smirked and parried. “And also a serious question. What’s the deal? Are you two avoiding each other?”
“I’m certainly not avoiding him,” Tonks said, nearly succeeding in disarming Sirius.
“You split up or something?”
“What? No!” Tonks fired off a Heavy-Feet Hex, and Sirius grunted with the effort of deflecting it. Then, more honestly, she added, “Maybe. Hell, I don’t know. Are we even together in the first place?”
“You can’t give up, Tonks,” Sirius said, sounding almost angry. “He’s an idiot about these things, as I’m sure you’ve seen. Do you know how long it took us to get him to admit out loud that we were, in fact, his mates?” He blocked a series of on-target hexes from Tonks, but kept talking. “You’ve got to keep after him. Don’t let him do his disappearing act into that shell he loves to live in.”
“Oh, so now it’s my fault Remus is acting weird?” Tonks demanded.
“No!” Sirius said, narrowly dodging a hex from her that would have caused him to grow tentacles. “It’s not your fault. But I’m just saying – don’t give up on him, would you?”
Tonks finally found her advantage, pressed it, and landed Sirius on his back, his feet swept out from under him, just as he’d done to her before. He blinked up at her in consternation. Tonks grinned down at him, then leaned in to give him a hand up.
“Not bad, little cousin,” he grumbled.
“Yeah, being an Auror and all does help,” she said, still grinning cheekily at him. “And Sirius? Thanks for the advice, but I can sort out my own life.”
He looked like he was about to say something more, but just then Moody called from the front of the room, “Switch partners!”
Tonks nodded at Sirius, turned to look around for a new partner – and came face to face with Remus.
He looked as startled as she felt, but there was no time to try to switch again, as Moody was already calling, “Ready? Begin on the count of three.”
Tonks and Remus nodded at each other, wands raised, and Moody called, “Go!”
Tonks was so focused on being sure to duel Remus the same way she would duel anyone else, not giving him any special advantages or breaks, that it took her a while to realise he wasn’t doing the same. Oh, he did a good job of looking like he was duelling, with plenty of parrying and wand-waving, but he had yet to cast a single offensive spell.
“Remus,” she gritted out, trying and failing not to get angry, “Stop the mollycoddling and hex me.”
“No,” he ground out, sounding just as frustrated. “I can’t aim to harm you, Dora.”
“Then what’s the point? What are we doing here?” She’d stopped casting spells, since he wasn’t doing it either, but that felt even more ridiculous, to be doing nothing more than dancing around with her wand in the air.
“Keeping up appearances, I suppose,” Remus said, still waving his wand around in a fair approximation of a man duelling.
Keeping up appearances. Was that all he ever did?
“Okay, well, since we’re apparently having a chat instead of duelling, let me tell you that your appearances are getting awfully confusing. You act like we’re close, then you act like you hardly know me, then you kiss me out of nowhere – what do you want from me Remus?”
“I–” He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“You know it's got to the point where Sirius just asked me if we’d split up? I told him I wasn’t entirely sure we were even together in the first place, because I can’t tell what’s going on behind that façade of yours.”
Remus quailed under her gaze, dropping his eyes. “I'm sorry.”
“And don’t ever look away when duelling,” Tonks growled. He looked back up, startled, to find her wand inches from his nose. “I’m not going to hex you, because you apparently can’t be bothered to hex me, but don’t ever let down your guard like that in a real duel.”
“I won’t,” he said, sounding surprised by her intensity.
“I'm so tired of trying to figure out what you want,” Tonks pushed on. “You want to be together, but you don't want anyone to know; you want a relationship but without having to let yourself get too close. It doesn't work that way.”
“I'll try harder –”
“No.” She stepped in close to him, wand still wielded. “I don’t want you to ‘try’ to do something if it’s not what you really want. If you can't do it, or don't want to do it, then don't, okay?”
Remus seemed to find his voice at last. “No, it’s not like that. I want this –” His voice dropped to a whisper, aware of the other pairs in close proximity, as the two of them continued to circle each other, not duelling. “I want this, with you, more than I can say. I want it, and I’m terrified by it. I am terrified by the idea of bringing harm to you.”
“And I’ve told you I think that’s ridiculous.”
“I can’t change the way I feel!”
“I need a break.” The words spilled from her lips.
Remus took a half-step backwards. “What?”
Tonks clenched her wand tighter in her hand. “Work is so full-on right now, you have no idea, then there’s everything for the Order too, and it’s making me nuts trying to figure you out. I can’t do all of that at once. I need… I need a break from us seeing each other.”
She saw him swallow, wrestling to keep that kind, blank neutrality on his face. “If that’s…if that’s what you need, then yes, of course.”
“Ugh, Remus!” she burst out, then quelled her voice again. She had to resist casting a hex right in his face – with her wand outstretched and him being so very maddening, the temptation was strong. “Would you just be angry, if you’re angry? Stop saying things are all right, if they’re not. Say what you feel for once!”
“I’m…not angry,” Remus said, seeming to struggle with the words. They were circling each other more slowly now, locked in something that was both less and more than a practise duel. “What I am is disappointed in myself. I care very much for you, and I’m not doing a good job of showing you that.”
Damn the man, he was so difficult to stay cross with.
“Time!” Moody called from somewhere across the room. “Put down your wands.”
Tonks lowered her wand, still staring at Remus. She felt winded, though all they’d done was talk and waltz in a circle.
Remus stared back at her.
“Let’s just…not see each other for a bit. I need to get my head clear,” Tonks said, aching even as she said it.
Remus bowed his head. “All right.”
Others began to move past them, towards the stairs that led back up to the kitchen.
Furtively, Tonks reached out and squeezed Remus’ hand, quick and hard. It was all she could do not to give in and say, I’ll see you soon, okay? But she’d meant what she said – she needed to figure out on her own where she stood.
She forced herself not to look back at him as she found her way to the stairs.
– – – – –
For Remus, the next weeks were ones of frustration and monotony. There were meetings, there was duelling practice, he did some research for Dumbledore. And threaded through it all, there were the awkward moments when he and Tonks inevitably crossed paths within the Order.
The worst part was knowing he'd simply let her walk away from him.
He’d had something wonderful, and he’d let it slip away, because…
Well, because he’d had good reasons to hold back.
That didn’t make it any easier.
There was tension in the air among all of them, an unspoken sense that whatever was coming was coming fast. The news from Hogwarts, of Dolores Umbridge's tightening grip on power, was disturbing. The lack of news from Voldemort was even more alarming. He was planning something, and not even Snape had been able to find out what.
One evening, Arthur dropped by Headquarters unannounced and he and Remus spent a couple hours just talking, trying, with limited success, not to give voice their fears. If even even-keeled Arthur was afraid, Remus thought afterwards, they really were in trouble.
And still, there was nothing they could do but train, and steel themselves for the battles to come, and hope it would be enough.
– – – – –
For Sirius, the next weeks dragged unbearably.
Everyone was on edge, but with fewer and fewer useful tasks into which to channel their nervous energy. Remus was home in London more often now, which should have been a welcome change for housebound Sirius, but these days Remus mostly skulked around the place, trying but failing to hide his dour mood now that he was inexplicably not together with Tonks.
Sirius, whose mood was perpetually dour and who depended on Remus' even temper more than he liked to admit, found this exceptionally trying.
They snapped at each other without meaning to. Sirius found himself irritated by the way Remus spun his spoon absentmindedly in the sugar bowl at breakfast, and by his insistence on acting as if life were normal, when it wasn't.
On top of it all, Harry hadn't written in over three weeks, which struck Sirius as dire. Hardly a week had gone by all year without at least a short missive scrawled on a scrap of parchment, even as his godson had less and less positive news to share.
"If anything happens to Harry, I'm going up there," Sirius informed Remus one evening in early April. They were in the basement kitchen, drinking tea and killing time in a way that had become all too familiar. "Dumbledore's rules be damned, I'm not sitting here if he needs me."
"No, Sirius," Remus repeated, reminding Sirius ever more of a man reprimanding a dog or a recalcitrant child. "Umbridge isn't worth risking your life over."
"Who cares," Sirius growled. "How much is my life worth at this point, anyway? Cooped up in this house, doing nothing? Wasting everybody's time and space? How much have I got to lose?"
"Don't be stupid," Remus said shortly.
"I'm being stupid? Says the man who's had a beautiful woman throwing herself at him for the last year, but insists on ignoring her?"
From across the table, Remus glared. "It's really not your concern."
"Except it is my concern, because I have to watch you mope, and I have to watch her looking tragic whenever she comes over. What do you think you're playing at?"
"I am not playing at anything! I'm trying to protect her. Or maybe it's not worth trying to explain that to you, since you never do take safety and sense into consideration, do you?"
"Oh, yes, noble, noble Remus. It's all for her good, isn't it, and never because Remus himself is scared?"
"Damn it, Sirius!" Remus shoved back his chair and rose, his tea forgotten on the table. "I've never said I was a good man. That was always you putting words in my mouth."
Sirius pushed himself to his feet too, unaccountably angry, all of his frustration directed at Remus. "Well, would it kill you to try? Why do you insist on destroying every good thing you have?"
"I do not –"
"Tonks is the best thing that's ever happened to you, and yes, I'm including James and all of us in that! She made you happy. I can't believe I have to sit here and watch you throw that away!”
“I’m not –”
“You are. This is that Ravenclaw girl all over again, and that woman when we were in the Order the first time, and everyone you’ve ever almost-but-not-quite-really-dated because oh, surely it wasn’t going to work out anyway. The common factor is you, Remus. You’re the reason it never works out, because you can’t be arsed to try.”
Remus’ gaze was icy. “If I’m such a lost cause, Sirius, then do feel free to stop poking your nose in.”
“All you have to do, all you have to do to be happy is reach out and take it!” Sirius was gripping the tabletop so hard he could barely feel his knuckles, and Remus was glaring back at him. “For a man who’s got everything he’s ever wanted right in front of him, you’re sure blasé about just throwing it away.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus said tightly, still standing a step away from the table, tensed as if to spring, or to run away.
The force of Sirius’ frustration had him leaning across the table towards Remus. “I know exactly what I’m talking about! You’re a coward. You’re a fucking coward. You would rather wait and wait, and hedge your bets until it’s far too late, than ever do something.”
“Oh, because your rash brand of decision-making has served you so well, I suppose!” Remus snapped. “Acting first and thinking later, that’s worked out well for you in the past, has it, Sirius?”
Sirius reeled back, feeling the words in the centre of his chest like a punch.
No, listen, James, it’s brilliant, we’ll switch who’s Secret Keeper and not tell anyone. We can do it tonight.
Take my motorbike, then, Hagrid. There’s just something I’ve got to do first.
“Fuck. You,” Sirius said very clearly, suddenly icy calm.
Remus’ eyes widened. “Sirius, I’m –”
“No. Go to hell.”
Sirius turned and stalked up the stairs, breath coming hard as he stomped one foot after the other, taking the stairs two and three at a time. Away, he just wanted to get away. But of course there was nowhere to go.
He made it as far as the landing between his and his brother's childhood bedrooms before he heard Remus' steps behind him. Sirius stopped with his hand on the doorknob to his old room, unwilling to turn and face Remus.
“Sirius, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Sirius tightened his shoulders and clenched his jaw, and didn’t turn around.
“Truly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It wasn’t your fault that…any of it. It wasn’t your fault.”
Sirius begged to differ – it was his fault, it would always be his fault – but he felt too weary to have that argument now.
“No harm done,” he said shortly, staring at the wood grain of the door in front of him, clenching the doorknob in his hand. “We’re old punching bags for each other, aren’t we?”
“And you’re right,” Remus continued, very quietly, behind him. “I’m a coward and I always have been. I was never like you or James.”
Sirius sighed and felt his shoulders slump in submission. “Oh, shut up. You’re not a coward. There are a whole lot of things I could call you, but that’s not one of them.”
“Sirius, please turn around. I hate having a conversation with your back.”
Sirius growled, but obeyed. The two of them surveyed each other, one from the landing, the other from midway up the flight of stairs. Slowly, as if afraid to startle Sirius with any sudden movements, Remus ascended the rest of the way and sat down on the top step. He ran his hands through his hair, his time-honoured gesture of not knowing what to say.
Sirius leaned back against the bedroom door and looked down at Remus. He looked so tired. When had they got old and tired? Not to mention there was Andromeda, with a daughter already old enough to be causing Remus grief.
“You’re right,” Remus said. “I am terrified, and it’s paralysed me. I’ve made a mess of things with Dora because of it. But I am trying to protect her. Say whatever else you want about me and you won’t be wrong, but that much is true. I care about her too much to put her in danger.”
Sirius crossed his arms. “It’s all danger. You can end up losing everything, at any moment. If we’ve learned anything, isn’t it that? But that’s not a reason not to try.”
“It’s not that simple –”
“Except it is. I swear, I’d kill for the opportunities you take for granted. Watching you waltz in and out of here, going where you please, falling in love –” Sirius broke off, not trusting his voice to take him further.
Remus stared up at him, eyes widening. “Sirius – I’m sorry, I should have thought –”
“No,” Sirius said gruffly. “No, that’s not the point. You don’t have to feel bad for the fact that you get to have a life! I’m just saying – you have this incredible opportunity. So fucking take it.”
Remus dropped his head into his hands. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked, voice muffled behind his palms.
Feeling weary, too weary to even keep standing, Sirius dropped down next to Remus on the top step and leaned against the wall. The wallpaper against his cheek was an ugly, faded olive green.
“Go talk to her,” Sirius said. “And figure it out together. Only thing you can do, really.” He prodded Remus’ shoulder, trying to push him up.
Remus looked at him in confusion and said, "What, right now?"
"Yes, right now. Because by tomorrow you'll have lost your nerve again, and we’ll have go through all of this all over again, and frankly I don’t have the energy, do you?"
Remus groaned.
"I'm serious," Sirius said. "In fact, I'm going to see you out, and seal the door, and I'm not letting you back in until you've had a proper conversation with Tonks."
Then he escorted Remus downstairs and did just that.
– – – – –
Remus paced Tonks’ street a good number of times before he finally approached the door to her building, and even then, he hesitated to ring the buzzer. What would she say? She was the one who had asked for a break – ought he to disturb her now? How much of his back-and-forth was she willing to put up with, anyway?
"Yes?" came her voice over the building's Muggle intercom when he finally rang the bell. It was well into evening by now, but he hadn't even thought to worry he might disturb her. They each knew each other's schedules too well for that.
"It's Remus," Remus said.
There was a pause. "Hey."
"Can we talk?"
There was a longer pause, and Remus felt his stomach clench. Tonks’ voice when she finally answered was cautious. "What about?"
"Er. Well. I was talking to Sirius just now… rowing, actually, I suppose I’d have to say. And he thinks I’m wasting an extraordinary opportunity with you – which he’s not wrong about – but the upshot of the discussion was… he's not going to let me back into the house until I've talked to you."
He heard her little huff of laughter over the intercom. "I see."
"So… can I come in?"
"Oh, I don't know. I'm going to have to think about that for a bit." Now she was deliberately teasing him.
Remus leaned one arm against the intercom panel and fought down giddiness. When, he wondered, had it got this far, that just the tinny sound of this woman's voice as she bantered with him from several storeys up made his heart swoop and sail?
"That's fine. I'll just stand here," he said, playing along, trying to sound martyr-like.
There was definitely a bit of a smile in her voice this time. "I'm buzzing you in. But don't get any ideas, buster."
The door buzzed open and Remus took the stairs two at a time. When he reached Tonks' floor, she was leaning in the doorframe, watching him approach.
"Poor Remus," she said. "Locked out, huh?" She was smiling wryly, but there was still something reserved about her posture, and he stopped somewhat short of her door.
"I know that expression so well," she mused, holding his gaze. "That's 'sheepish Remus,' come to apologise for whatever it is he feels he has to apologise for this time." Before he could come up with a reply to that, she sighed and offered, "Would you like to come in?"
He studied her face. "Not if you look that unhappy about it."
"No, it's okay," she said. "Really. Come in."
She stepped back to let him pass, and Remus entered the flat, breathing in its familiar scent, taking in the sight of the familiar, simple room. It felt alarmingly like coming home.
Tonks put her hand on his arm to steer him into the kitchen, the gesture easy and habitual, and parked him on one of the two chairs at the tiny table in her even tinier kitchen. She turned to put tea on, one of those herbal infusions she liked and he had never quite got the hang of, then leaned one hip against the counter and surveyed him. "Okay, so what is it we’re supposed to be talking about?"
Remus gazed back at her, at a loss again. "Maybe it would be easier if you start?"
"Nuh-uh, this is your conversation, so you start it." Tonks pressed a teacup into his hand, then slid into the seat opposite him. Remus bent his head over his cup and inhaled. Rosehips. "You can do this," she said, her voice going gentler. “You have stuff you want to say to me, clearly. So…say it. You’re not going to make me angry just by saying what you feel." She reached across the table and took his hand.
It was the hardest thing, somehow, to put feelings into words and release them into the world.
"I'm afraid of so many things," Remus started. Tonks’ eyes on him were so kind. "I’ve always erred on the side of caution. And a lot of times that was necessary. It was safer for me to live that way, given...what I am. But always safe and always afraid, that’s no way to live, and I know that, but – it’s hard to know how to be any other way. Above all, Dora, I am so terrified of doing something that would be wrong for you."
"Because Merlin forbid I be allowed to make my own decisions about that," she murmured.
"I know, I'm unfair to you. You're wiser in many ways than I'll ever be."
"I don't know about that."
"You know how to open your heart. I'm still working on that." The impulse to look away, to run away, was so strong, but Remus forced himself to keep meeting her gaze. "Dora, I have a lot left to learn. But I'm trying."
"Don't make me any promises right now," she whispered. "I don't think I can take it."
"I'm not. I won't."
"Because I have to tell you, I’m not particularly keen on you being all logical and explaining yourself and convincing me this can work, if you’re only going to change again next week."
Remus felt his body slump in on itself. "I probably will do that."
"Remus –"
"No, you're right. I always end up hurting you, one way or another, and that's precisely why I keep trying to distance myself. But I keep coming back, too, because I'm a little too selfish to stay away."
"But there's no reason you have to stay away!"
"Maybe after all this is over," Remus said. "After the war is over, when things aren't so precarious…"
"No." Tonks shook her head so emphatically, the motion of her body shook the rickety table beneath their joined hands. "That's not how it works, you don't save up the good things for later. Live your life now. You never know what will happen, later."
Remus looked at Tonks sitting there across from him, so good and earnest and whole, and his heart ached inside his chest. "Sirius said pretty much the same thing," he told her, his voice hoarse.
"Sirius," she informed him, "is surprisingly wise, when he wants to be." She squeezed his fingers in hers. "Listen, do you remember I told you once I wasn't sure if we would still be friends, if we weren't a couple?"
"I do."
"I was wrong. I need you as my friend, Remus. I need you in my life. I do want to be with you, I really, really do, but first I need to know you’re someone I can count on to just…be there. So can we – I don’t know, can we be friends, to start with? And kind of…work our way up from there?"
Remus swallowed down a lump rising in his throat, that she would still offer that. "Yes. Of course."
Tonks smiled softly, but she kept her tone light. "Sounds like we've got a deal. Shake on it?"
Feeling a bit silly, Remus shook her hand once, then let it go. "I’m terribly lucky to have you as a friend," he said. He’d meant to match her light tone, but it came out very earnest.
A trace of sadness flitted across Tonks’ face, but was subsumed again by her warm smile. "And I feel lucky to know you. Really. Sounds like sort of a stupid thing to say after all this, doesn’t it? But I think we are, actually. We’re lucky."
Remus smiled back, but before he could say anything, there was a flash of flame in the air between them, and a single golden phoenix feather dropped out of nothingness onto the kitchen table. Remus stared at it for a long moment, though he knew perfectly well what it meant.
He looked up at Tonks, seeing surprise and confusion on her face. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I have to go."
– – – – –
(continue to CHAPTER 16)
Note: Dear lovely readers! I want to let you know now that I'll probably take a couple weeks' break in posting over the holidays; I'm going to be traveling, hosting visitors, celebrating my last New Year's Eve in the city where I've lived for 7+ years and then, for my final trick, pulling off a trans-Atlantic move! (And of course: participating in the fest at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rt_morelove!) So posting this story might have to pause, just for a couple weeks. Don't worry; the story is completely written, I just might not have time to post the next chapters over the holidays. I'll let you know more exactly how the schedule will look, when I post next week as usual. Thanks as always for following along this far!
Summary: In which Remus and Tonks fight battles, arrest criminals, befriend werewolves, overcome inner demons and, despite it all, find themselves a happy ending. A love story, and a story of the Order years. (At long last, my Remus/Tonks epic, which has been years in the making!)
Chapter 15: Things Unsaid
Sweet on me
Say that you're sweet on me
And I will fall like an avalanche
At your feet
–Aly Tadros, Sweet on Me
Tonks felt her mind wandering again and yanked it back to the task at hand. Which was, unfortunately, work of the most boring kind, fact-checking a stack of Auror reports on the continued hunt for the ten escaped Azkaban prisoners. All the reports basically boiled down to the same thing: No progress.
It was the kind of menial task that so often fell to junior Aurors, but in this particular case there was a benefit: It gave Tonks the access she needed to make a secret second copy of each report, to be passed on to the Order of the Phoenix.
That act alone was a breach of Ministry protocol serious enough to lose Tonks her job, and it was a mark of how dire things were that she didn't think twice about doing it. With Voldemort poised to take over and the Ministry determined not to see, she would do what needed to be done.
Tonks shuffled another paper between the "to be checked" and "already checked" piles and allowed herself a small inward sigh. Everything in the documents was accurate, as far as it went, but they were wasting precious Auror hours looking for Death Eaters in pointless places. Tibet, for example, because there'd been that point when Kingsley had been able to make it look as if Sirius had been spotted there, to throw the other Aurors off his trail. And now Kingsley couldn't exactly admit that Sirius had never been in Tibet in the first place without giving away that he'd made the entire thing up.
There were a few bright spots in the general Ministry murk, though. Buckwaite, for example, an Auror about ten years Tonks' senior. He'd recently dropped by her desk unannounced, one afternoon when the office was nearly deserted, and pulled up a chair.
"Does seem hard to believe, doesn't it, that ten hardened criminals would stay stuck in Azkaban all these years, only to decide they're suddenly in a hurry to rally around Sirius Black?" he asked as soon as he was seated. Tonks had always appreciated Buckwaite's no-nonsense approach.
She nodded cautiously, twiddling her quill in her hand and letting him do the talking. It seemed absurd to be so careful, but these days you never knew who was saying what they actually thought, and who had been sent to keep an ear out for the foolishly paranoid Fudge.
Leaning forwards on his borrowed chair, Buckwaite continued, "Black is as bad as they come, for sure, but he's not…well, he's not You Know Who." He gave Tonks a searching look, clearly not sure how much he dared to say.
"There are certainly things that don't add up," Tonks agreed, keeping her tone neutral.
"And you generally seem to have a good idea what's going on," Buckwaite continued. "So if you hear anything more…I suppose I'd be curious to know about it."
"Sure," Tonks agreed. That was easy enough, and kept the Quaffle in her possession too. She could decide how much it was safe to tell him, or not.
"Well," he said, standing abruptly. "I guess that case file isn't going to read itself." With a friendly parting nod, he headed back to his own desk.
Remembering that conversation now, Tonks felt heartened. It was good to know there were people like Buckwaite at the Ministry. He might even be a help to her and Kingsley as they tried to gently lean on Scrimgeour to lean on Fudge to allow the Aurors to shift their focus. Tonks was pretty sure Scrimgeour didn't believe Fudge's fantasies – that Sirius was the great enemy, or that Dumbledore was secretly working to unseat Fudge – any more than she herself did. But Scrimgeour was savvy, too, and liked to hedge his political bets.
As Tonks signed off on another document, her mind wandered away from her yet again, this time to Remus. The nights they’d been able to spend together had been few and far between, though each one was lovelier than the last. Tonks was learning all the different tender expressions Remus showed her, all the different ways his eyes crinkled with humour and joy when they were together. Even in the midst of dull paperwork, the thought of Remus’ smile made her grin.
In public, though, he was increasingly distant. Which meant increasingly distant was the only part of him Tonks got to see, since in public was the only place they’d got a chance to cross paths for a while now. And she couldn’t read him when he was like that, when he smiled politely across the crowded table in the basement kitchen, no hint of any personal feeling in his eyes.
Hot and cold. Remus running hot and cold. Because then, two evenings ago, Tonks had dropped by the house to leave some documents with Sirius, and Remus had found her in the entrance hall as she was leaving and swept her up in a kiss so passionate, even now her knees went shaky thinking about it. “I’ll see you soon, I promise,” he’d whispered when they broke apart, both dazed, and then he’d disappeared down the basement stairs.
Except he hadn’t. She hadn’t seen Remus since then. She would presumably see him tonight at the Order meeting, but that would be in public again, in distant mode. And Tonks was getting sick of trying to calculate how Remus would respond to her any given time she saw him, whether this time he’d act like a lover or a stranger.
"Tonks," hissed Albert Buckle, the second most junior Auror. Tonks snapped her head up to see Scrimgeour headed their way, passing through the Aurors' cubicles on his way out to the main corridor. She collected herself just in time to give her boss a professional nod as he passed, then shot Buckle a grateful smile and turned her attention back to her work.
Before she left for the Order meeting tonight, she'd find a chance to copy these reports, and sneak them out of the Ministry inside the sleeve of her robes.
The things she did for justice!
– – – – –
"I imagine some of you are growing tired of waiting to take action," Dumbledore said, and Tonks thought she saw his eyes twinkle in her direction, before he returned to solemnly addressing the entire Order. "All I can tell you is that I feel sure it won't be long before Voldemort moves into the open. And when he does so, we shall be ready for him."
From far down one side of the table, Tonks couldn't help bursting out, "But all this time, he's gathering more people to fight for him!"
Now Dumbledore really did send a smile her way. "Indeed. But so are we."
Tonks looked around and saw that the basement kitchen, cavernous though it was, really was almost uncomfortably crowded. Nearly everyone had turned up for this meeting, even McGonagall and Snape, who usually stayed behind to hold down the Hogwarts fort when Dumbledore was away.
"We have strengths Voldemort can only dream of, and we know more about him than he can imagine," Dumbledore continued. He looked around the room and nodded to himself, looking quietly pleased. "And speaking of being ready for the battles we are sure to face, Alastor has a proposal for you."
Dumbledore ceded the floor and took a seat at the table as Mad-Eye Moody stumped to the front of the room.
"It's more Dumbledore's idea than mine," Moody began, "but I'll be taking the practical end of things. Duelling training. Consider the fact that Aurors, no matter how advanced, never stop practising their duelling skills and advanced spells. Because better wizards than any of us have been killed in a moment of distraction." He stared around the room ominously. "I do realise you're all fully trained wizards, so no one is obliged to stay. But Sirius here has made the house's wine cellar available as a practice space, and I'm willing to run some drills after meetings, starting today."
The room was silent, and it occurred to Tonks that this series of blunt statements had actually been Moody's way of posing a question. "I think that's a terrific idea," she said. "You can never train enough, and I'm glad to learn anything Mad-Eye’s willing to teach."
From across the table, Remus was the next to speak. "We're none of us too old to learn new things," he said. "And I know for me, at least, it's been a long time since theoretical knowledge was put into regular practice. I'd like to know I've prepared in every way I could, if it ever comes down to any one of you trusting your lives to my duelling skills."
Tonks smiled across at him, pleased to hear him voice support for her old mentor, and Remus smiled back – then looked away.
She gritted her teeth in frustration. Would it kill him to act normally? Or at least to have a proper conversation with her about why he insisted on being this way? Remus was such a master at dodging questions he didn’t want to answer.
There was a scraping of chairs, and Tonks realised the group must have agreed to Moody's proposal while her thoughts were elsewhere. Sirius was ushering everyone towards a small door off the kitchen.
Tonks looked again for Remus, and was surprised to see him and Mad-Eye conferring with Dumbledore, with Snape and McGonagall also nearby. Moving sideways through the crowd that was funnelling into the wine cellar, Tonks tried to get close enough to hear what they were saying.
Dumbledore's voice reached her in small snippets over the general chatter. "…a time when I am forced to leave…" he was saying, his attention directed to Mad-Eye and Remus. "…with Minerva and Severus, of course…" And then: "…but it would be a great relief to know that both of you…"
The rest of the conversation was lost to Tonks entirely, as she was carried along down a narrow, twisting staircase that descended to a cellar even deeper than the kitchen.
It was an enormous subterranean space – yet another of the house's many secrets, though Tonks supposed by this point she should just stop being surprised. This cellar-below-the-cellar looked as if it had lain untouched for years, the heavy wooden shelves along its walls stocked with bottles whose labels were nearly obscured beneath a blanket of dust.
"I did put a cushioning spell on all those shelves before inviting Moody down here to wreak havoc. Wouldn't do to have good wine go to waste, no matter who originally owned it," a voice said in her ear, and Tonks looked around to see Sirius smirking at her.
Tonks smiled back. "How come you kept the good stuff a secret all this time, huh?"
"Because after Moody asked, it took me a solid two weeks to get into this room past all the protective jinxes my father put on his precious wine collection," Sirius replied, and Tonks saw he wasn't joking.
"Form pairs!" Moody called from one end of the cellar.
"Partner?" Tonks asked Sirius.
"Sure," he agreed, looking surprised.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tonks saw that Remus had made it down to the wine cellar as well, though Dumbledore seemed to have departed together with Snape and McGonagall. She was dying to know from Remus what Dumbledore had been discussing with him, but she knew better than to try to talk to the infuriating man in public.
"Today," Moody told the assembled group, which Tonks was pleased to see included nearly everyone who'd been at the meeting, "we'll be focusing on accuracy. How well can you aim a curse or a jinx? How many can you cast in the space of a minute and still be on target? Can you aim with your eyes closed?" Without breaking his conversational tone, Moody pointed his wand behind his back and shot off ten rapid-fire jets of magenta light at a target he'd affixed to the wall behind him. Within seconds, ten magenta marks clustered around the bullseye.
"That's setting unrealistic expectations, Mad-Eye!" Tonks called. "Not all of us have eyes in the back of our heads, you know!"
Moody fixed her with his beady stare, but she could tell by the tiny twitch at one side of his mouth that he was amused. "Which means you need to train twice as hard," he growled. "Now, practise!"
With a flick of his wand, Moody doled out parchment targets similar to the one he'd used, and the Order members spread out through the enormous, dimly lit cellar, partners taking turns aiming and spotting one another. Then Moody had them aim at a levitating, moving target while their partners stood in the way and tried to block their shots, then they aimed, whilst blindfolded, at their partners, who guided them by the sound of their voices. It was enormously fun, and reminded Tonks why she'd enjoyed Auror basic training so much.
Best of all, Sirius was clearly having a blast. Tonks hadn't seen him smile so much since, well, certainly at least since Harry had last been in the house. Clearly, battle agreed with her cousin.
Once they’d run through his series of training exercises, Moody let them simply duel, with no specific assignment beyond of course not to injure one another in earnest.
"You ready, cousin?" Tonks asked, as Moody counted to three at the far end of the room.
"The question," Sirius retorted, "is whether you are ready for me."
Then Moody shouted, "Go!" and they were duelling.
Sirius was good, ferocious even, clearly channelling all his frustrations into the working of his wand. The only thing that worried Tonks was how reckless he was, always going for the big, showy move instead of the sensible one.
"Sirius, keep your eyes on my face!" she shouted over the hubbub of the pairs of duellists around them. "Stop distracting yourself with your own cleverness!"
Sirius smirked and used her own distraction as she spoke to get in a sneaky little spell that knocked her legs out from her.
"Fair enough," Tonks groused, as Sirius gave her a sporting hand up from the floor. They nodded, waited a silent count of three, then continued.
“So what’s the deal with you and old Moony lately?” Sirius asked, and Tonks swore under her breath, because he’d startled her enough to allow him to get in a Jelly-Legs Jinx.
“That was underhanded,” she complained, as she performed the countercurse on her legs and shot off a Stinging Hex at Sirius mostly out of spite.
He smirked and parried. “And also a serious question. What’s the deal? Are you two avoiding each other?”
“I’m certainly not avoiding him,” Tonks said, nearly succeeding in disarming Sirius.
“You split up or something?”
“What? No!” Tonks fired off a Heavy-Feet Hex, and Sirius grunted with the effort of deflecting it. Then, more honestly, she added, “Maybe. Hell, I don’t know. Are we even together in the first place?”
“You can’t give up, Tonks,” Sirius said, sounding almost angry. “He’s an idiot about these things, as I’m sure you’ve seen. Do you know how long it took us to get him to admit out loud that we were, in fact, his mates?” He blocked a series of on-target hexes from Tonks, but kept talking. “You’ve got to keep after him. Don’t let him do his disappearing act into that shell he loves to live in.”
“Oh, so now it’s my fault Remus is acting weird?” Tonks demanded.
“No!” Sirius said, narrowly dodging a hex from her that would have caused him to grow tentacles. “It’s not your fault. But I’m just saying – don’t give up on him, would you?”
Tonks finally found her advantage, pressed it, and landed Sirius on his back, his feet swept out from under him, just as he’d done to her before. He blinked up at her in consternation. Tonks grinned down at him, then leaned in to give him a hand up.
“Not bad, little cousin,” he grumbled.
“Yeah, being an Auror and all does help,” she said, still grinning cheekily at him. “And Sirius? Thanks for the advice, but I can sort out my own life.”
He looked like he was about to say something more, but just then Moody called from the front of the room, “Switch partners!”
Tonks nodded at Sirius, turned to look around for a new partner – and came face to face with Remus.
He looked as startled as she felt, but there was no time to try to switch again, as Moody was already calling, “Ready? Begin on the count of three.”
Tonks and Remus nodded at each other, wands raised, and Moody called, “Go!”
Tonks was so focused on being sure to duel Remus the same way she would duel anyone else, not giving him any special advantages or breaks, that it took her a while to realise he wasn’t doing the same. Oh, he did a good job of looking like he was duelling, with plenty of parrying and wand-waving, but he had yet to cast a single offensive spell.
“Remus,” she gritted out, trying and failing not to get angry, “Stop the mollycoddling and hex me.”
“No,” he ground out, sounding just as frustrated. “I can’t aim to harm you, Dora.”
“Then what’s the point? What are we doing here?” She’d stopped casting spells, since he wasn’t doing it either, but that felt even more ridiculous, to be doing nothing more than dancing around with her wand in the air.
“Keeping up appearances, I suppose,” Remus said, still waving his wand around in a fair approximation of a man duelling.
Keeping up appearances. Was that all he ever did?
“Okay, well, since we’re apparently having a chat instead of duelling, let me tell you that your appearances are getting awfully confusing. You act like we’re close, then you act like you hardly know me, then you kiss me out of nowhere – what do you want from me Remus?”
“I–” He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“You know it's got to the point where Sirius just asked me if we’d split up? I told him I wasn’t entirely sure we were even together in the first place, because I can’t tell what’s going on behind that façade of yours.”
Remus quailed under her gaze, dropping his eyes. “I'm sorry.”
“And don’t ever look away when duelling,” Tonks growled. He looked back up, startled, to find her wand inches from his nose. “I’m not going to hex you, because you apparently can’t be bothered to hex me, but don’t ever let down your guard like that in a real duel.”
“I won’t,” he said, sounding surprised by her intensity.
“I'm so tired of trying to figure out what you want,” Tonks pushed on. “You want to be together, but you don't want anyone to know; you want a relationship but without having to let yourself get too close. It doesn't work that way.”
“I'll try harder –”
“No.” She stepped in close to him, wand still wielded. “I don’t want you to ‘try’ to do something if it’s not what you really want. If you can't do it, or don't want to do it, then don't, okay?”
Remus seemed to find his voice at last. “No, it’s not like that. I want this –” His voice dropped to a whisper, aware of the other pairs in close proximity, as the two of them continued to circle each other, not duelling. “I want this, with you, more than I can say. I want it, and I’m terrified by it. I am terrified by the idea of bringing harm to you.”
“And I’ve told you I think that’s ridiculous.”
“I can’t change the way I feel!”
“I need a break.” The words spilled from her lips.
Remus took a half-step backwards. “What?”
Tonks clenched her wand tighter in her hand. “Work is so full-on right now, you have no idea, then there’s everything for the Order too, and it’s making me nuts trying to figure you out. I can’t do all of that at once. I need… I need a break from us seeing each other.”
She saw him swallow, wrestling to keep that kind, blank neutrality on his face. “If that’s…if that’s what you need, then yes, of course.”
“Ugh, Remus!” she burst out, then quelled her voice again. She had to resist casting a hex right in his face – with her wand outstretched and him being so very maddening, the temptation was strong. “Would you just be angry, if you’re angry? Stop saying things are all right, if they’re not. Say what you feel for once!”
“I’m…not angry,” Remus said, seeming to struggle with the words. They were circling each other more slowly now, locked in something that was both less and more than a practise duel. “What I am is disappointed in myself. I care very much for you, and I’m not doing a good job of showing you that.”
Damn the man, he was so difficult to stay cross with.
“Time!” Moody called from somewhere across the room. “Put down your wands.”
Tonks lowered her wand, still staring at Remus. She felt winded, though all they’d done was talk and waltz in a circle.
Remus stared back at her.
“Let’s just…not see each other for a bit. I need to get my head clear,” Tonks said, aching even as she said it.
Remus bowed his head. “All right.”
Others began to move past them, towards the stairs that led back up to the kitchen.
Furtively, Tonks reached out and squeezed Remus’ hand, quick and hard. It was all she could do not to give in and say, I’ll see you soon, okay? But she’d meant what she said – she needed to figure out on her own where she stood.
She forced herself not to look back at him as she found her way to the stairs.
– – – – –
For Remus, the next weeks were ones of frustration and monotony. There were meetings, there was duelling practice, he did some research for Dumbledore. And threaded through it all, there were the awkward moments when he and Tonks inevitably crossed paths within the Order.
The worst part was knowing he'd simply let her walk away from him.
He’d had something wonderful, and he’d let it slip away, because…
Well, because he’d had good reasons to hold back.
That didn’t make it any easier.
There was tension in the air among all of them, an unspoken sense that whatever was coming was coming fast. The news from Hogwarts, of Dolores Umbridge's tightening grip on power, was disturbing. The lack of news from Voldemort was even more alarming. He was planning something, and not even Snape had been able to find out what.
One evening, Arthur dropped by Headquarters unannounced and he and Remus spent a couple hours just talking, trying, with limited success, not to give voice their fears. If even even-keeled Arthur was afraid, Remus thought afterwards, they really were in trouble.
And still, there was nothing they could do but train, and steel themselves for the battles to come, and hope it would be enough.
– – – – –
For Sirius, the next weeks dragged unbearably.
Everyone was on edge, but with fewer and fewer useful tasks into which to channel their nervous energy. Remus was home in London more often now, which should have been a welcome change for housebound Sirius, but these days Remus mostly skulked around the place, trying but failing to hide his dour mood now that he was inexplicably not together with Tonks.
Sirius, whose mood was perpetually dour and who depended on Remus' even temper more than he liked to admit, found this exceptionally trying.
They snapped at each other without meaning to. Sirius found himself irritated by the way Remus spun his spoon absentmindedly in the sugar bowl at breakfast, and by his insistence on acting as if life were normal, when it wasn't.
On top of it all, Harry hadn't written in over three weeks, which struck Sirius as dire. Hardly a week had gone by all year without at least a short missive scrawled on a scrap of parchment, even as his godson had less and less positive news to share.
"If anything happens to Harry, I'm going up there," Sirius informed Remus one evening in early April. They were in the basement kitchen, drinking tea and killing time in a way that had become all too familiar. "Dumbledore's rules be damned, I'm not sitting here if he needs me."
"No, Sirius," Remus repeated, reminding Sirius ever more of a man reprimanding a dog or a recalcitrant child. "Umbridge isn't worth risking your life over."
"Who cares," Sirius growled. "How much is my life worth at this point, anyway? Cooped up in this house, doing nothing? Wasting everybody's time and space? How much have I got to lose?"
"Don't be stupid," Remus said shortly.
"I'm being stupid? Says the man who's had a beautiful woman throwing herself at him for the last year, but insists on ignoring her?"
From across the table, Remus glared. "It's really not your concern."
"Except it is my concern, because I have to watch you mope, and I have to watch her looking tragic whenever she comes over. What do you think you're playing at?"
"I am not playing at anything! I'm trying to protect her. Or maybe it's not worth trying to explain that to you, since you never do take safety and sense into consideration, do you?"
"Oh, yes, noble, noble Remus. It's all for her good, isn't it, and never because Remus himself is scared?"
"Damn it, Sirius!" Remus shoved back his chair and rose, his tea forgotten on the table. "I've never said I was a good man. That was always you putting words in my mouth."
Sirius pushed himself to his feet too, unaccountably angry, all of his frustration directed at Remus. "Well, would it kill you to try? Why do you insist on destroying every good thing you have?"
"I do not –"
"Tonks is the best thing that's ever happened to you, and yes, I'm including James and all of us in that! She made you happy. I can't believe I have to sit here and watch you throw that away!”
“I’m not –”
“You are. This is that Ravenclaw girl all over again, and that woman when we were in the Order the first time, and everyone you’ve ever almost-but-not-quite-really-dated because oh, surely it wasn’t going to work out anyway. The common factor is you, Remus. You’re the reason it never works out, because you can’t be arsed to try.”
Remus’ gaze was icy. “If I’m such a lost cause, Sirius, then do feel free to stop poking your nose in.”
“All you have to do, all you have to do to be happy is reach out and take it!” Sirius was gripping the tabletop so hard he could barely feel his knuckles, and Remus was glaring back at him. “For a man who’s got everything he’s ever wanted right in front of him, you’re sure blasé about just throwing it away.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus said tightly, still standing a step away from the table, tensed as if to spring, or to run away.
The force of Sirius’ frustration had him leaning across the table towards Remus. “I know exactly what I’m talking about! You’re a coward. You’re a fucking coward. You would rather wait and wait, and hedge your bets until it’s far too late, than ever do something.”
“Oh, because your rash brand of decision-making has served you so well, I suppose!” Remus snapped. “Acting first and thinking later, that’s worked out well for you in the past, has it, Sirius?”
Sirius reeled back, feeling the words in the centre of his chest like a punch.
No, listen, James, it’s brilliant, we’ll switch who’s Secret Keeper and not tell anyone. We can do it tonight.
Take my motorbike, then, Hagrid. There’s just something I’ve got to do first.
“Fuck. You,” Sirius said very clearly, suddenly icy calm.
Remus’ eyes widened. “Sirius, I’m –”
“No. Go to hell.”
Sirius turned and stalked up the stairs, breath coming hard as he stomped one foot after the other, taking the stairs two and three at a time. Away, he just wanted to get away. But of course there was nowhere to go.
He made it as far as the landing between his and his brother's childhood bedrooms before he heard Remus' steps behind him. Sirius stopped with his hand on the doorknob to his old room, unwilling to turn and face Remus.
“Sirius, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Sirius tightened his shoulders and clenched his jaw, and didn’t turn around.
“Truly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It wasn’t your fault that…any of it. It wasn’t your fault.”
Sirius begged to differ – it was his fault, it would always be his fault – but he felt too weary to have that argument now.
“No harm done,” he said shortly, staring at the wood grain of the door in front of him, clenching the doorknob in his hand. “We’re old punching bags for each other, aren’t we?”
“And you’re right,” Remus continued, very quietly, behind him. “I’m a coward and I always have been. I was never like you or James.”
Sirius sighed and felt his shoulders slump in submission. “Oh, shut up. You’re not a coward. There are a whole lot of things I could call you, but that’s not one of them.”
“Sirius, please turn around. I hate having a conversation with your back.”
Sirius growled, but obeyed. The two of them surveyed each other, one from the landing, the other from midway up the flight of stairs. Slowly, as if afraid to startle Sirius with any sudden movements, Remus ascended the rest of the way and sat down on the top step. He ran his hands through his hair, his time-honoured gesture of not knowing what to say.
Sirius leaned back against the bedroom door and looked down at Remus. He looked so tired. When had they got old and tired? Not to mention there was Andromeda, with a daughter already old enough to be causing Remus grief.
“You’re right,” Remus said. “I am terrified, and it’s paralysed me. I’ve made a mess of things with Dora because of it. But I am trying to protect her. Say whatever else you want about me and you won’t be wrong, but that much is true. I care about her too much to put her in danger.”
Sirius crossed his arms. “It’s all danger. You can end up losing everything, at any moment. If we’ve learned anything, isn’t it that? But that’s not a reason not to try.”
“It’s not that simple –”
“Except it is. I swear, I’d kill for the opportunities you take for granted. Watching you waltz in and out of here, going where you please, falling in love –” Sirius broke off, not trusting his voice to take him further.
Remus stared up at him, eyes widening. “Sirius – I’m sorry, I should have thought –”
“No,” Sirius said gruffly. “No, that’s not the point. You don’t have to feel bad for the fact that you get to have a life! I’m just saying – you have this incredible opportunity. So fucking take it.”
Remus dropped his head into his hands. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked, voice muffled behind his palms.
Feeling weary, too weary to even keep standing, Sirius dropped down next to Remus on the top step and leaned against the wall. The wallpaper against his cheek was an ugly, faded olive green.
“Go talk to her,” Sirius said. “And figure it out together. Only thing you can do, really.” He prodded Remus’ shoulder, trying to push him up.
Remus looked at him in confusion and said, "What, right now?"
"Yes, right now. Because by tomorrow you'll have lost your nerve again, and we’ll have go through all of this all over again, and frankly I don’t have the energy, do you?"
Remus groaned.
"I'm serious," Sirius said. "In fact, I'm going to see you out, and seal the door, and I'm not letting you back in until you've had a proper conversation with Tonks."
Then he escorted Remus downstairs and did just that.
– – – – –
Remus paced Tonks’ street a good number of times before he finally approached the door to her building, and even then, he hesitated to ring the buzzer. What would she say? She was the one who had asked for a break – ought he to disturb her now? How much of his back-and-forth was she willing to put up with, anyway?
"Yes?" came her voice over the building's Muggle intercom when he finally rang the bell. It was well into evening by now, but he hadn't even thought to worry he might disturb her. They each knew each other's schedules too well for that.
"It's Remus," Remus said.
There was a pause. "Hey."
"Can we talk?"
There was a longer pause, and Remus felt his stomach clench. Tonks’ voice when she finally answered was cautious. "What about?"
"Er. Well. I was talking to Sirius just now… rowing, actually, I suppose I’d have to say. And he thinks I’m wasting an extraordinary opportunity with you – which he’s not wrong about – but the upshot of the discussion was… he's not going to let me back into the house until I've talked to you."
He heard her little huff of laughter over the intercom. "I see."
"So… can I come in?"
"Oh, I don't know. I'm going to have to think about that for a bit." Now she was deliberately teasing him.
Remus leaned one arm against the intercom panel and fought down giddiness. When, he wondered, had it got this far, that just the tinny sound of this woman's voice as she bantered with him from several storeys up made his heart swoop and sail?
"That's fine. I'll just stand here," he said, playing along, trying to sound martyr-like.
There was definitely a bit of a smile in her voice this time. "I'm buzzing you in. But don't get any ideas, buster."
The door buzzed open and Remus took the stairs two at a time. When he reached Tonks' floor, she was leaning in the doorframe, watching him approach.
"Poor Remus," she said. "Locked out, huh?" She was smiling wryly, but there was still something reserved about her posture, and he stopped somewhat short of her door.
"I know that expression so well," she mused, holding his gaze. "That's 'sheepish Remus,' come to apologise for whatever it is he feels he has to apologise for this time." Before he could come up with a reply to that, she sighed and offered, "Would you like to come in?"
He studied her face. "Not if you look that unhappy about it."
"No, it's okay," she said. "Really. Come in."
She stepped back to let him pass, and Remus entered the flat, breathing in its familiar scent, taking in the sight of the familiar, simple room. It felt alarmingly like coming home.
Tonks put her hand on his arm to steer him into the kitchen, the gesture easy and habitual, and parked him on one of the two chairs at the tiny table in her even tinier kitchen. She turned to put tea on, one of those herbal infusions she liked and he had never quite got the hang of, then leaned one hip against the counter and surveyed him. "Okay, so what is it we’re supposed to be talking about?"
Remus gazed back at her, at a loss again. "Maybe it would be easier if you start?"
"Nuh-uh, this is your conversation, so you start it." Tonks pressed a teacup into his hand, then slid into the seat opposite him. Remus bent his head over his cup and inhaled. Rosehips. "You can do this," she said, her voice going gentler. “You have stuff you want to say to me, clearly. So…say it. You’re not going to make me angry just by saying what you feel." She reached across the table and took his hand.
It was the hardest thing, somehow, to put feelings into words and release them into the world.
"I'm afraid of so many things," Remus started. Tonks’ eyes on him were so kind. "I’ve always erred on the side of caution. And a lot of times that was necessary. It was safer for me to live that way, given...what I am. But always safe and always afraid, that’s no way to live, and I know that, but – it’s hard to know how to be any other way. Above all, Dora, I am so terrified of doing something that would be wrong for you."
"Because Merlin forbid I be allowed to make my own decisions about that," she murmured.
"I know, I'm unfair to you. You're wiser in many ways than I'll ever be."
"I don't know about that."
"You know how to open your heart. I'm still working on that." The impulse to look away, to run away, was so strong, but Remus forced himself to keep meeting her gaze. "Dora, I have a lot left to learn. But I'm trying."
"Don't make me any promises right now," she whispered. "I don't think I can take it."
"I'm not. I won't."
"Because I have to tell you, I’m not particularly keen on you being all logical and explaining yourself and convincing me this can work, if you’re only going to change again next week."
Remus felt his body slump in on itself. "I probably will do that."
"Remus –"
"No, you're right. I always end up hurting you, one way or another, and that's precisely why I keep trying to distance myself. But I keep coming back, too, because I'm a little too selfish to stay away."
"But there's no reason you have to stay away!"
"Maybe after all this is over," Remus said. "After the war is over, when things aren't so precarious…"
"No." Tonks shook her head so emphatically, the motion of her body shook the rickety table beneath their joined hands. "That's not how it works, you don't save up the good things for later. Live your life now. You never know what will happen, later."
Remus looked at Tonks sitting there across from him, so good and earnest and whole, and his heart ached inside his chest. "Sirius said pretty much the same thing," he told her, his voice hoarse.
"Sirius," she informed him, "is surprisingly wise, when he wants to be." She squeezed his fingers in hers. "Listen, do you remember I told you once I wasn't sure if we would still be friends, if we weren't a couple?"
"I do."
"I was wrong. I need you as my friend, Remus. I need you in my life. I do want to be with you, I really, really do, but first I need to know you’re someone I can count on to just…be there. So can we – I don’t know, can we be friends, to start with? And kind of…work our way up from there?"
Remus swallowed down a lump rising in his throat, that she would still offer that. "Yes. Of course."
Tonks smiled softly, but she kept her tone light. "Sounds like we've got a deal. Shake on it?"
Feeling a bit silly, Remus shook her hand once, then let it go. "I’m terribly lucky to have you as a friend," he said. He’d meant to match her light tone, but it came out very earnest.
A trace of sadness flitted across Tonks’ face, but was subsumed again by her warm smile. "And I feel lucky to know you. Really. Sounds like sort of a stupid thing to say after all this, doesn’t it? But I think we are, actually. We’re lucky."
Remus smiled back, but before he could say anything, there was a flash of flame in the air between them, and a single golden phoenix feather dropped out of nothingness onto the kitchen table. Remus stared at it for a long moment, though he knew perfectly well what it meant.
He looked up at Tonks, seeing surprise and confusion on her face. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I have to go."
– – – – –
(continue to CHAPTER 16)
Note: Dear lovely readers! I want to let you know now that I'll probably take a couple weeks' break in posting over the holidays; I'm going to be traveling, hosting visitors, celebrating my last New Year's Eve in the city where I've lived for 7+ years and then, for my final trick, pulling off a trans-Atlantic move! (And of course: participating in the fest at
rt_morelove!) So posting this story might have to pause, just for a couple weeks. Don't worry; the story is completely written, I just might not have time to post the next chapters over the holidays. I'll let you know more exactly how the schedule will look, when I post next week as usual. Thanks as always for following along this far!
