Harry, Ron and Hermione discuss the true nature of the relationship between the two puppies that keep me up all night. Written after HBP, before I knew JK would actually go and marry poor Tonks to Moony.
Dedicated to my good friend, Dorian-Crow (sceptical extraordinaire). Yes, I believe. I affirm it, I support it, and I shall defend it to death. Here you have some of my reasons, in the words of sweet Hermione (always up to go beyond the surface).
Obvious
"Of course not!"
"Please, Ron! How much proof do you need?"
"At least one that's real."
Hermione scowls. This discussion is taking too long, but for once it doesn't bother Harry. He's also interested in it.
"I've given you plenty," she sounds annoyed. "There's nothing I can do if you don't want to see the obvious."
Ron looks at her as if she was a new experiment from Hagrid's breed.
"You're insane, Hermione. There's nothing obvious... What about Tonks, eh... eh?
Hermione rolls her eyes.
"Precisely, Ron. That's exactly what we're discussing."
It's true. That's how it all started. Harry finds it completely surreal that anyone can have a conversation like this after Dumbledore's funeral, while he still holds in his hand the fake Horcrux that cost his life.
It's surreal, and he suspects not exactly proper. But it doesn't really matter. Because walking towards the castle, they saw Lupin and Tonks from afar, and Ron asked "do you think those two are together already?" and Hermione scowled, with that know-it-all expression that she has –the one that says 'I can't believe you just said that' and 'have you never read Hogwarts A History?'
And then the world ended.
"Try to remember, Ron... You never noticed the way they talked to each other? The level of intimacy they shared?"
"They were friends! Of course they trusted each other!"
"It was more than 'trust', Ron... Harry and you trust each other. More than you trust me, that's obvious. But I don't see Harry jumping into your sentences as if they were his. I don't see Harry holding you back on the verge of a rage attack that leaves you completely white with a 'sit down, Ron' and without raising an eyebrow."
"They had known each other forever! And Sirius practically lived on the verge of a rage attack. Lupin must've known how to handle it, after all those years, don't you think?"
"I don't see Harry watching over you with that look when you have an argument."
And the emphasis on that forces Harry to make the effort of remembering exactly which look is Hermione referring to. They're talking about the fight between Sirius and Mrs. Weasley at the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The first time they were allowed to question the members of the Order about their work. He remembers all their heads kept jumping from one to the other, like it was a tennis match... even Ginny's, slightly open-mouthed, from the spot where she knelt playing with Crookshanks –don't think of Ginny-... but Lupin's eyes were fixed on Sirius. He seemed to be controlling everything from his seat. Every gesture, the intonation of every word. He did more than paying attention, more than prepare to hold back a disaster.
Oh... that look.
He hadn't paid much attention to it. But yes, he had to admit there was something undoubtedly possessive in that look. In that whole argument. In the way Lupin didn't intervene, respecting Sirius' space, but watched over. In the way he did intervene in the moment of greatest tension, to order his godfather –order his godfather- to sit down. In the easy way in which one complemented the other's speech. Without asking for permission. Without interrupting. As if two different voices gave the very same speech.
"In fact, I'm not even sure it was a secret. Just because they didn't go around kissing in the corners of Grimmauld Place, it doesn't mean they were hiding it. They even gave the Christmas presents together."
"Yeah... because the normal thing would've been that Sirius Black took a nice walk visiting stores in Diagon Alley and looking for a gift for Harry, right?" replies Ron, with sarcasm.
"Well, no. Of course not. But there are ways. He bought the Firebolt when he had all of the Dementors behind, if you don't remember."
"But Dumbledore had asked him to stay in the house," cuts Harry.
"Even so, he could have asked Lupin to buy the presents for him. They had no need to give them together."
"Well... they were friends. Sirius knew Lupin didn't have the money to make presents himself. It sounds logical to me."
"Yes, that might be it," reckons Hermione. "Anyway, that's not the reason why I believe they were together. Only the reason why I thought maybe their relationship was something public."
"And which's your unarguable reason to believe they were together, if we can hear it?" asked Ron, annoyed.
"Well... a lot of things, actually. Subtle things. Looks, intonations... You must have noticed their communication had hues more couple-like than friend-like..."
"Sirius and Lupin, Hermione! How can you think that? Has nobody taught you to respect the dead? We come from a funeral and you're speaking of..."
"Of a couple that loved each other very much, Ron. I'm not saying anything wrong. I'm not accusing them of a crime."
"They're not even here to defend themselves."
"Defend from what? I'm not saying anything wrong. And I don't believe any of them would consider it an insult, really. In fact, I think Sirius would have liked Harry to know."
"To know what? There's nothing to know!"
"That Sirius wasn't as lonely as we thought he was, that he had someone that loved him, that Lupin is more that just a 'friend of his parents', that Harry is not alone in the loss of Sirius..."
... That my godfather shagged my teacher.
In fact, Harry agrees with Ron. All the evidence is circumstantial. All of Hermione's arguments can be brought down. But at the beginning of this discussion, when Ron asked what she meant with that know-it-all look, Hermione answered "well, isn't it obvious?" with a superiority look on her face. And Harry couldn't help remembering those same words, that same look, in a different conversation.
They were in third year. Lupin was their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher –the best they'd ever had. He seemed to be always ill and Harry and Ron were afraid Snape might be trying something to take his job.
"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably.
"Nothing," replied Hermione in a lofty voice.
"Yes, you were. I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you -"
"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, with that look of superiority.
"She doesn't know," said Ron, staring after her when she left.
But she did, didn't she?
As exasperating as Hermione can be, Harry has to admit she has the ability to observe, link, disarticulate and comprehend things that Ron and him wouldn't notice if they kicked them in the head. Well, isn't it obvious? No. It never seemed obvious to him. But the fact that it did to Hermione is more than enough to plant the seed of a doubt.
"And what about Tonks? How do you explain that, eh?" Ron attacks once again, using his most solid argument.
"That's what I've been trying to get into your head for half an hour, Ron. I don't think they're together."
"They were holding hands."
"Yes... I found that strange, too," she replies intrigued. "But it has been a very emotional moment for all of us... Maybe Lupin was trying to comfort her... I don't know."
"Comfort her? Where were you while we watched the last chapter of Witches in Love at the hospital wing?"
"Where were you, Ron? Because from where I was, what I could see was Tonks practically begging a man to be with her, while he repeated every three sentences they shouldn't be together. 'Too old', 'too poor', 'too dangerous'... 'too uninterested', I'd say."
"That's not fair. We all know Lupin. He feels bad about the whole being a werewolf thing. That doesn't mean he doesn't like Tonks."
"No... But it doesn't mean he likes her, either. And as I said, I personally believe that Lupin's tastes differ greatly from cheery pink haired young witches."
"But," cuts Harry, thoughtful, "one thing doesn't cut out the other, right? I mean... even if it were true..."
"What?" Ron looks horrified.
"Even if Lupin was... you know... if he liked Sirius... that doesn't mean he can't like cheery pink haired young witches, too... not really."
"Harry!" yells Ron, who seems on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
"Well, no," replies Hermione, ignoring Ron. "But I haven't said Lupin 'liked' Sirius, Harry. I think it was much, much bigger that that."
Ron mumbles something that sounds like 'mad, completely mad' and Harry discovers that, from that point of view, the picture doesn't look so terrible. And why not? If he thinks calmly about it, he may like the idea of not being alone in this terrible loss of the only 'family' he knew. It's sad, yes. But they have each other. The sole survivors of that strange family that were the Marauders.
"The way they looked at each other, the way they completed each other, the intimacy they shared... Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban, Harry. Twelve years. And you saw them in the Shrieking Shack yourself... I don't think they 'liked each other'. I think they were in love. In fact, I believe that in twelve years, they never stopped being in love."
The shapes of Lupin and Tonks have disappeared in the distance, and suddenly their memory becomes as strange to Harry as it is to Hermione.
"Think about it, Harry... Lupin knew all along that Sirius was an Animagus. That he knew secret passages in the castle that no one else knew about. And he never said a word."
"'Cause he didn't want to loose Dumbledore's trust," cuts Ron, firm as rock in his position. "He said it himself."
"Yes, he did. But I don't believe him. Sirius entered your bedroom, Ron. Harry's bedroom. Do you really think Lupin would've kept something that important to himself in a situation like that only to avoid 'loosing Dumbledore's trust'? Do you think he would've risked Harry's life for fear of rejection? Because I think we know the courage of Lupin better than that."
Ron grunts, but concedes her point.
"That doesn't prove anything. I told you, they were friends. Brothers. If someone told me Harry committed a crime, I wouldn't believe it. And if all the proofs pointed to him, I still wouldn't believe it. And if Harry managed to escape Azkaban, I would do anything in my hands to keep him from ever being found by the Dementors."
Harry looks at him. He knows it's true. He knows he would do the same for Ron. For both of them.
"I know you would," says Hermione, with a certain pride in her eyes. "And I think that's exactly what would have happened if we were speaking of Sirius and Harry's dad. But, in case you don't remember it, Lupin did believe Sirius was guilty. And Sirius didn't tell him about the change with Pettigrew because he thought Lupin was the spy. They did mistrust each other. A lot. And that's my point exactly. It wasn't friendship that kept them connected. It wasn't loyalty. There was some force, beyond trust, that didn't allow Lupin to do anything that might hurt Sirius."
"Because he was his friend! For all they had been through together!"
"Pettigrew was his friend, too! They went through the same things together! Do you remember his reaction when he found out that he was the traitor and not Sirius? He was going to kill him, Ron! Professor Lupin! The same that wasn't capable of exposing Sirius as an Animagus when he thought he was guilty!
The scene comes to Harry's mind as clear as if he was there, at the Shrieking Shack, the night he found the truth about the Marauders.
"Where is he, Sirius?" said Lupin, in a very tense voice.
Very slowly, Sirius raised a hand and pointed Pettigrew. But Harry didn't understand it then.
"But then..." muttered Lupin, and he was staring at Sirius so intently he seemed to be trying to read his mind... "why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless... Unless he was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?"
And then he saw Lupin walk to Sirius' side, seize his hand, and embrace him. Like brothers. Like two men lost in a shipwreck, trying not to drown. Like dear life.
"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, finding himself discovered, imploring. "You don't believe this... wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"
"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter. I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?"
"Forgive me, Remus."
"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend. And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"
"Of course," replied Sirius, and the ghost of a grin came across his face.
The trust, never truly lost. The scarce need for forgiveness... Twelve years in hell, and Lupin's apology seemed to make everything right.
"You don't understand! He would have killed me, Sirius!"
"Then you should have died! Died rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you!"
Sirius' words kept sinking, even after three years. Harry understood them to an unexplainable point. As we would have done for you. The Marauders. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Harry, Ron and Hermione.
Ron and Hermione keep arguing as they move across the castle, and Harry imagines two different faces in a similar dynamic, rolled eyes and self-confident expressions stretching through the corners of time. Two different voices, both with a sharp answer on the tip of the tongue, ready to fly like an arrow. Sirius, with seventeen years and that impossible energy that seemed able to unleash the fury of the elements. Always ready to attack a Slytherin. Acting without thinking of the consequences. Loyal 'til death or hell. Stubborn as a mule. Lupin, young but marked by the scars and the weariness, starting to show some white hair. Gryffindor Prefect, model student, respectful of the rules. Unable to control two friends that seem to live to get in trouble. Unable to control his own desire to take part of the adventure.
He smiles.
Ron's ears are red like tomatoes as he yells with his hands up high, and Hermione's eyes spark with fury. And now Harry can see that which hides behind the screams and the rage... and maybe also behind the controlled looks of an educated Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, the complementary and synchronized sentences of two life-long friends, a joint present and a faith that couldn't be brought down by mistrust... And he knows Dumbledore was right. Love is the only force capable of beating the darkness that threatens the world. Because whatever the end is, whatever history says, it was love that saved him from death at the age of one, and from unhappiness, ten years later. And love is the force that will guide him through this war, that will give sense to the battle.
Ginny, he can't help thinking. They pass by a mirror, on their way to the Gryffindor Tower, and he is suddenly surprised by how much he looks like his father. The glasses, the hair, the Quidditch, the courage to do the right thing. He thinks of his mother, redhead and full of life, brilliant, capable of facing death without fear and give her life for love. Ginny. Ron and Hermione walk a few steps ahead, loyal like no others; and Harry knows they'll be by his side no matter what.
Like Sirius and Lupin, for his father.
He gives Hermione's theory one more thought. Maybe. Maybe just like Sirius and Lupin.