The Defenition of a Phoenix, a harry potter fanfic

The Definition of a Phoenix

A/N: Ciao all, first attempt at a RJL/NT fic, actually first attempt at a Harry Potter fic at all, so no flames please, but constructive criticism is very welcome. (Please review!) Um…MAJOR SPOILERS for HBP, so if you've gotten this far without having finished the book, I implore you to go back and read something safer until you've finished Book Six. PLEASE. I mean it. It's worth it to be surprised by the end of HBP.

Um…usual stuff about not owning the characters or concept, and I've got a direct quote from the book, which is obviously the big long one in italics. If it's illegal, someone please review and let me know, but I really don't intend to make money off of it and I know perfectly well it's not mine and I've even cited it in what I hope is proper MLA format at the bottom if it makes you feel better…yeah. Onwards to the story. Again, please, please review!

As the echoes of Minerva McGonagall's and Harry Potter's footsteps faded from the Hogwarts hospital wing, Remus Lupin lifted his head from between his hands and looked at the other occupants of the room. All but Tonks had returned their attention to Bill Weasley's prone form. The metamorphmagus, however, was still staring at him, her eyes—a brilliant blue that night—narrowed. He knew that he had to come to a decision quickly, but did not know if he could face either alternative under the circumstances.

At that instant the phoenix song that was keening over the grounds took a particularly melancholy turn. Lupin had just sunk his head into his hands again when the song brought to mind Minerva's words.

"Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world." (1)

He let you teach here when there was nowhere else to go, Lupin reminded himself. He let you attend Hogwarts when you could not have under any other headmaster. He trustedyou for your entire life, even after you told him about Sirius. So if trust is so important, why do you place her trust at less value than his?"

Lupin raised his head again and stood up so suddenly that Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting next to her son's bed a few feet away, jumped slightly at the sound. The werewolf felt the heat of embarrassment rising to his cheeks as he walked over to Tonks and said quietly,

"Er, Tonks, may I have a private word? In the hallway?"

The young woman looked at him, considered for a moment, and followed him out of the hospital wing without saying a word. There was a moment of awkward silence. Then Lupin forced himself to meet Tonks' eyes.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, his voice hoarser than usual.

Tonks shut her eyes and turned away, an expression of bitter anger and disappointment making itself at home on her features. "I—" she broke off. "Why can you not understand that I. do. not. care?"

Lupin gaped at her. It took him a few seconds to realize what she was talking about. The werewolf smiled a little as he put his hands on her shoulders, feeling her tense at his touch, and turned her back around to face him. "No, that's not what I meant. I meant—I meant that I'm sorry for not trusting you. For realizing that if I truly care about and respect and perhaps even l-love you—and I do—that I need to respect that you can make your own choices." He paused, swallowed, and continued with a tremor in his voice. "Er—would you like to—er—meetmeattheLeakyCauldronatsixtomorrowevening?" It all came out in a rush. "Er—just to—you know, talk over Butterbeer?"

Tonks shrieked and threw her arms around his neck.

The shriek brought Mr. and Mrs. Weasley clattering to the door. They saw their friends embracing, Lupin's eyes shut tight and Tonks now crying, both of them overcome by the sheer number of emotions they had been asked to feel that night. Tonks felt the Weasleys' eyes and pulled apart from the hug.

"It's OK, Molly," the metamorphmagus hiccupped. "It's only that he asked me to m-m-meet him at the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow evening at six and I've done so much damn feeling tonight that I can't express any of it the right way anymore."

The two women returned to the hospital wing, arm in arm and both now sobbing. Mr. Weasley stepped out into the hall and clapped Lupin on the shoulder, a small smile in his eyes. "You did the right thing, Remus," the red-haired wizard said. "You and Tonks will be very happy together. And Dumbledore would have been very happy for you both."

Lupin was staring fixedly at a point on the floor. "Arthur, I am thirty-six years old and that—that was the first time that I have ever succeeded in asking a woman out," he said, his voice barely audible.

Mr. Weasley chuckled. "I don't know if it counts. She's been asking you out regularly for a year now, Remus."

Suddenly, inexplicably, everything was very funny. Both wizards were laughing so hard that they got stitches in their sides. As he wiped ways the tears of mirth rolling down his cheeks, the werewolf began paying attention to the phoenix song for the first time in several minutes. Although the music was still terribly desolate and filled with grief at Dumbledore's passing, Lupin wondered, just for a fleeting instant, whether it might, just might, hold a note of hope for the future.