Short, plotless, and based on a prompt ("grass") for the rt challenge on LJ.

Climbing a Tree

The tree they had used to sit and study under in school was still there, and why shouldn't it have been? One of the things that Remus liked the most about Hogwarts was the dependability it exuded, so of course the tree had changed little, had only gotten a few imperceptible inches thicker.

The funeral was over; there were still a few people around but they were lingering around where the service had been. Kingsley, Tonks, and the other Aurors had been invited up to dinner in the castle by Gawain Robards. Tonks had said he could go with her if he wanted to; they were allowed guests, but he had declined.

"You're all right?" she had asked.

"Tired," he had assured her. "Dog tired. Couldn't move an inch. Would you mind if I went back to the village?"

She nodded and didn't question him about it, although she did seem a little concerned. "Do you feel up to the walking? Do you want me to call you a carriage to get back into Hogsmeade?"

"No," he had said. "I can manage the walk." She accepted this without question, much to his surprise, because he knew normally she would have compared this statement to his earlier comment of not being able to move an inch. She was in a funny, non-observant mood, he decided, and so was he.

Instead of walking toward the gate he had taken a detour around the lake, watching the squid flop its tentacles languidly. Finally he got to the tree and sat down under it, not because he was tired as he had told Tonks but more to stare at the glassy surface of the lake and the spot where the coffin had been. The grass, which had glared and seemed to stab him directly in the retinas during the funeral, was now turning a dark and deep green in the twilight. It calmed him, just a little.

It was odd, and he really was in an odd mood because he had really been quite tired like he had told Tonks, but he suddenly got the urge to climb the tree, which had always been spectacularly good for that sort of thing, something he remembered as he sat down on a branch about six feet off the ground. Now he had a better view of the treetops and the scene of the funeral was blocked out.

"Hey, you!"

He looked down and saw a bright pink head. It had been so long since he had seen Tonks' hair that color that he didn't recognize her at first.

"Hi!" he called. "Hold on a second, I'm coming down—"

"No, you stay there, I'm coming up." With surprising quickness she drew level with him and crawled to where he was sitting on the branch with considerable agility. She slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow as she sat down.

"Nice to see you again," she said.

"You didn't like the dinner?" he asked.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Hmm."

"And you, all alone, so stiff and sore, right?"

"Right."

"Could barely move an inch, huh?"

"Just barely an inch. The six feet up here, though, they were just fine."

"Really, Remus," she said, sounding irritable. "Deserting me, in the company of Dolores Umbridge, too."

"She was there?"

"Oh yes she was. I'll spare you the unpleasant details of that." She sounded very bitter.

"I'm very sorry," he said, and he truly was, although he was also glad he had declined to go to the dinner in the first place.

"Going tree-climbing is something you should tell me you're doing before sending me off," she continued, sounding less irritable. "I would've joined you in the first place."

Wordlessly she slipped away from him and climbed higher and higher up the tree. She was almost ten feet above him when he started after her.

THE END