25 December 1996
The village of Hogsmeade was beautifully festive during the holidays. Garlands of holly and wreaths of gold-and-silver decorated almost every storefront, and an overwhelming scent of cinnamon, cloves, and gingerbread mingled with the chilly winter breeze, wafting through the air. But as Tonks stared out of the kitchen window of her little cottage, towards the High Street, she was thinking only of how much she missed her small, cozy London flat and its proximity to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place…of Order meetings that had turned into birthday parties…of long evenings spent laughing in the basement kitchen with Remus and Sirius…
Suddenly, Tonks gave a little start, sitting up straight and tightening her grip on the mug of now-lukewarm tea pressed between her palms. She was being ungrateful. She ought to feel blessed, proud—how often did an Auror who was only two years out of the Academy get assigned to protect one of the most important Wizarding dwellings in Britain? She had earned Robards's trust and respect—and after all, John Dawlish, Henry Proudfoot, and Deirdre Savage had proven themselves to be enjoyable company…
But when she closed her eyes, all she could see was the haunted look on Sirius's wasted, once-handsome face…the cold, hateful rage in Bellatrix's eyes…Remus—
Remus.
Tonks gripped her mug yet more tightly, narrowing her eyes as she gazed out at the snowy village street. He would be at the Burrow now, wouldn't he? Perhaps a little more worn, a little shabbier than usual, after several months underground—but his face as kind and warm, as ever. Tonks closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. He wasn't even around, and still, Remus knew exactly how to make her furious.
Setting her mug down on the windowsill, Tonks buried her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. Then, she combed her fingers through her thin, brown hair and let out a slow, deep breath.
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the front door.
Tonks stood up so abruptly that her elbow knocked into her mug of tea. With an earsplitting clatter, the mug fell to the floor and exploded into a million shards of glass, scattering everywhere. Swearing under her breath, Tonks waved her wand and vanished the mess, before sprinting out of the kitchen and into the sitting room, pressing her ear to the wooden door.
"Who is it?" she asked loudly, her heart pounding. "Declare yourself!"
"Alastor Moody," came the gruff response. "More commonly known as Mad-Eye, I'm the reason that you, Nymphadora Tonks, managed to pass your Stealth and Tracking exam."
Tonks seized the doorknob and swung the door open, her eyes wide. "Mad-Eye!" she gasped. "Is everything all right? The Order—did something—?"
"Relax," Mad-Eye growled, stumping into the cottage and kicking the door shut with his good leg. "Everyone's fine."
Tonks stared at him, slightly open-mouthed. Then, she gave her head a little shake and stood up straight. "Aren't you going to check that I'm really me?" she demanded, lifting her chin.
Mad-Eye snorted. "Normally, I would," he muttered. "But anyone within twenty miles of this place probably heard the sound of breaking china just now." Shaking his head, Mad-Eye began clunking towards the sofa by the fireplace. "I see all the help I gave you in Stealth and Tracking came to nothing."
Tonks rolled her eyes, trailing after Mad-Eye into the sitting room. "What're you doing here?" she asked him suspiciously, raising her wand and flicking it at the fireplace. With a low rumble, it blazed to life. Leaning over the grate, she began rearranging the firewood.
"Lupin sent me a letter, told me you were spending Christmas alone," Mad-Eye grunted, and Tonks could feel his magical eye boring into her back. "He asked me to look in on you."
Tonks stiffened. Then, very slowly, she straightened and faced Mad-Eye, her eyes narrowed. "Why didn't he just come himself?" she asked coolly.
Mad-Eye didn't respond, busying himself with examining his battered, old wristwatch. Tonks rolled her eyes again, releasing an impatient breath. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked him abruptly. "I've just made tea."
"I didn't limp all the way across Scotland for tea," Mad-Eye growled. "I'd like a real drink, thank you very much."
Tonks snorted, heading towards the kitchen. A few moments later, she returned to the sitting room with two scotch glasses and a bottle of Ogden's. Setting the glasses down on the coffee table, she uncorked the Firewhisky and began pouring a generous amount into each glass.
"Steady on, there," Mad-Eye barked, his magical eye latching onto her. "I've seen how you get after a couple sips of wine."
"I've spent the past six months drinking Dawlish and Proudfoot under the table every weekend," Tonks retorted, picking up her glass and sinking into the seat next to Mad-Eye's on the sofa. "It builds tolerance."
Both of Mad-Eye's eyes narrowed in her direction, but Tonks determinedly avoided his gaze, as she raised her glass and took a long swig. The amber liquid scorched her throat, burning some feeling back into her, dispelling some of her numb emptiness and exhaustion. Taking a slow, deep breath, Tonks leaned back against the sofa cushions and looked at Mad-Eye. He had picked up his own scotch glass and was now sniffing its contents cautiously.
"Have you finally retired the hipflask, then?" Tonks asked him dryly, swilling her Firewhisky around in her glass.
"No," Mad-Eye said shortly, patting his belt—and sure enough, Tonks saw his infamous flask hanging off of it. "But I trust you."
Tonks looked up and met his gaze. Both of his eyes were still staring at her, far too closely, and something about the stark honesty in Mad-Eye's tone caused Tonks to feel an inexplicable pang of shame. Swallowing heavily, Tonks averted her eyes and lifted her glass of Firewhisky to her lips, taking another sip.
"So," Mad-Eye grunted, after several moments of silence. "How's your assignment going? Aside from your weekly drinking rituals, that is."
Tonks felt the faintest trace of a smile tug at the corners of her lips, but she couldn't quite manage it. "Fine," she shrugged, staring down at her Firewhisky. "There hasn't been much trouble around here—well, apart from what happened to that seventh year girl, Katie Bell. And of course, Dung and his stolen goods."
Mad-Eye snorted. "Mangy berk," he muttered darkly, shaking his head. Then, he looked sharply at Tonks. "But don't go getting lulled into a false sense of security just because it's been quiet for a while—"
"I know, Mad-Eye," Tonks sighed tiredly, rolling her eyes. "Constant vigilance."
Mad-Eye gave a gruff, humorless bark of laughter. "Well, at least something I've been telling you for the past five years has rubbed off."
"Cheers," Tonks mumbled, lifting her scotch glass. Then, she raised it to her lips and took a lengthy sip. Another long silence fell over the sitting room.
Then, suddenly— "You don't look good, Tonks," Mad-Eye said abruptly.
Tonks looked up, her cheeks burning. Glaring at Mad-Eye, she demanded fiercely, "Excuse me?"
"Don't play games with me, Nymphadora," Mad-Eye growled. "You look like one good hex could finish you off. What's this about?"
Tonks felt a flicker of familiar frustration at his use of her first name, but she couldn't seem to summon the energy to reprimand him, as she normally would have. Gritting her teeth, Tonks raised her glass and drained it. Then, slamming it onto the coffee table, she reached again for the bottle of Firewhisky—but Mad-Eye snatched it out of the way before she could touch it.
"I think you've had enough," he barked, holding the bottle out of her reach.
Tonks leaped to her feet, accidentally knocking several cushions off of the sofa in the process. "Give that back, Mad-Eye," she snarled, her teeth clenched.
Mad-Eye didn't even flinch. "No," he told her firmly. "Not until you tell me what the matter is."
"What the matter is?" Tonks demanded shrilly, with a hysterical laugh. "What the matter is? Everything's the matter, Mad-Eye! I spent most of the summer recovering from a spell that nearly blasted my ribs apart—cast by my mother's sister! And thanks to my stupidity, my cousin died! And now, I've spent the past six months watching Scrimgeour and Robards put innocent men behind bars!" she yelled in a strangled voice, seizing hanks of her mousy brown hair. "And if all that wasn't bad enough, the stupid, selfless arse that I happen to have the misfortune of being in love with has decided that he wants to dedicate his time to persuading a bunch of scared and confused werewolves to join our side—right under Fenrir Greyback's nose! And if he dies trying? It doesn't matter to him! Because he is so damn convinced that he's too old, too poor, and too dangerous for happiness!"
Mad-Eye listened to all of this with an unreadable expression. Breathing heavily and positively shaking with anger and frustration, Tonks dropped her arms and collapsed backwards onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands. A long, unbearably ringing silence spread across the room and lingered densely in the air.
It was a good ten minutes before Mad-Eye finally cleared his throat. "Tonks, have you ever wondered why—when there were half a dozen other trainees in your year to choose from, most of whom, frankly, had much better preliminary exam scores than you—that I chose to mentor you at the Academy?"
Tonks stiffened, but didn't lift her head from her hands. There was a brief pause. Then— "Because you thought you might like a good project?" she mumbled, her voice muffled against her palms.
"No," Mad-Eye replied harshly, and his tone was so sharp that Tonks raised her head, startled. He was gazing unblinkingly at her, both of his eyes blazing. "It's because I knew you had something that the rest of them didn't. And the fact that you're still standing after the year you've had proves that I was right."
An enormous lump emerged in Tonks's throat, and her eyes began to burn with tears. She swallowed heavily. "I feel like a bloody mess," she muttered.
Mad-Eye leaned back in his seat, taking a swig of Firewhisky. "Do you know what my old man always used to say to me?"
In spite of herself, Tonks smirked faintly. "Constant vigilance?" she guessed.
Mad-Eye snorted. "No, I came up with that one on my own," he told her. "But my dad always said that real courage isn't about keeping your heart intact. It's ripping your heart from your chest and saying, 'Here—hold onto this for me.'"
Tonks raised her eyebrows. "Your dad used to say that to you?"
"Yeah, well, he went a bit mad near the end," Mad-Eye grunted thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on his scotch glass.
For the first time in what felt like years, Tonks laughed—a real laugh, that bubbled in her stomach, warming her insides—and a tiny bit of the leaden weight in her chest dissolved.
Mad-Eye looked at her, a small smile twisting itself onto his scarred, grizzly face. "You've done your part, lass," he said gruffly. "It's Lupin's turn."
Tonks pressed her lips together. "And what if he doesn't?" she asked quietly.
"Then, we'll move on," Mad-Eye said simply.
To some people, the words might have seemed cruel. But this was Mad-Eye, and Mad-Eye was nothing if not honest. He never tried to make things easier for himself—or for Tonks, and she had always loved him for it. Swallowing heavily, Tonks nodded. Then, she scooted closer to him on the sofa and tucked her head against his shoulder, drawing her knees up and curling into his side. Mad-Eye let out a disgruntled noise, but otherwise didn't protest, and Tonks smiled to herself.
"Happy Christmas, you barmy, old codger," she whispered.
Author's Note:
This is my second Christmas story in the past few days, which should tell you how desperate I am for the holidays. XD Anyway, I've always wanted to explore Mad-Eye and Tonks's relationship, because they were said to be close. In my head canon, Mad-Eye is the one who walks Tonks down the aisle, since Tonks doesn't tell her parents about her marriage until after the fact lol.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! This was definitely a difficult Christmas (and year) for Tonks. And I do believe that a lot of it had to do with Remus, but I ALSO think that there were a lot of other things weighing her down that year, and I hope I managed to get that across! Let me know what you thought! :)
Also, this was written for the One Prompt After Another Loop Challenge on HPFC.
Ari