Disclaimer; If I was JK certian people would NOT be dead.
Entitled Sigh No More by Mumford and Sons after listening to it on repeat. Please forgive my spelling errors, it was written in the dead of night.
This wasn't the end, I told myself over and over as he left.
He had punched a hole straight through my chest, and it felt like he had ripped out my throat which his oh so very human hands. There was an aching in my gut and I wanted to run to my, no, our tiny bathroom and throw up. My tounge quivvered and I clasped my hands behind my back so he wouldn't see them shake.
It wasn't possible, watching him gather up his things as I stood limp in the doorway. I offered him sad words, angry yells, tearful sobs, and yet he did not waver from the task he had set himself.
He was breaking us.
First he tried to pull an, "It's for the best." Then came, "It's not you, it's me." And finally, "I don't love you Dora!" But the very fact that he had called me that helped me see through his lies.
"I can see what you're doing Remus." I told him. "And it won't work."
He didn't respond, just continued to throw things into that tiny suitcase. I walked over and grabbed one of his jumpers from the top of the pile, smoothed out the creases, and went back over to our wardrobe. I heard him stop shuffling around behind me, and I felt his gaze on my back as I hung it up deliberately in between one of my bold print dresses, and an old leather jacket. The pale faded colour of his clothing looked good next to my bright colours. It had made me smile the first time I had seen our coats side by side at one meeting so long ago.
"Dora." His voice was hollow and weak. I turned to face him, ready to fight once more.
His face was weary, his eyes seemed dark and unseeing, yet I saw them glitter. He hadn't shaved this morning, and his hair was dishevelled from when he had raked worn hands through it. He reached one of those hands towards me now, and I took it.
His arms wrapped around me, and I let myself be enveloped by him. This is not the end, I told myself, so don't be stupid and try to remember his exact scent, or the feel of his lips to your forehead, or how his breath stirs your hair.
"Why are you making this so difficult?" he breathed.
"Because you have to stop this. You have to stop deciding for me."
"But…"
"No Remus, I am an adult. I am an Auror. I am a member of the Order. Stop treating me like some stupid girl who doesn't understand consequences!" I pulled back, and I knew I had just ruined our tiny moment of calm. We had been through this argument before, and he would never sway to any of my reasons. He was too noble for his own good.
His voice was quieter than mine, as if he was pulling me back down from my anger. "I never thought you were anything less than an extremely capable woman Nymphadora. But you know why I have to leave."
"I know why you are going, but you don't have to do this." I waved an arm at the bed with the suitcase resting on top.
My action must have alerted him to our embrace, and he stepped back out of my grasp.
"I do." He walked over to the suitcase and took it in one hand, swinging it down.
"Funny," My face contorted in the irony, "I had imagined you saying that in a very different situation."
"What?"
"I found the box Remus." I sighed, moving towards him. "I was putting away some washing for once, and I found the ring box in the sock drawer last week." I sat on our bed heavily, finally glad to tell him. After a day or so of sheer delight, the panic had set in. Why hadn't he asked me yet? Neither of us were getting any younger, or safer.
And then, coming home today to find him packing had made perfect sense.
Caught out, he stuttered. "I… Dora… You see…" His hand raked through dull brown hair once more. "Did you look in the box?"
I shook my head. "I was waiting for you to ask."
"And what would you have said?"
"Yes, of course."
"Without even looking in the box?"
"Remus-" I stopped as he plunged a hand deep into his trouser pocket, and brought out a small velvet box.
He offered it to me, but his face was twisted in anger and pain. "It's empty Dora."
I popped it open, and sure enough, no ring was sitting on the plush cushion inside.
"I have no money. I have nothing. How could we have a life with nothing?"
I snapped the box shut and stood up, rounding on him. "You stupid prick. You think I wanted a ring? You think I stayed up for nights wondering about what it would look like, or how big our house could be, or how much stuff I could own?! Do you really think I am that shallow?!"
I waved the box in his face, "This is a symbol. It's a promise, a sign of love. I don't want anything else from you. Two words and a scrap of paper is all I thought about. It could be written on toilet paper for all I care!"
"It's not enough." He looked up from inspecting a very interesting speck of frayed carpet near my feet.
"You are enough!" I screamed at him. "You have always, and always will be, more than what I could ever want. Can't you get that through your thick noble skull?"
I thought that I may have gotten through to him, he stepped forward and cupped his hand around my cheek. "And you," his eyes searched mine, "will always be far too good for me. You don't deserve a life of poverty and shame."
He dropped his hand. While I was still feeling the heat from his touch he had picked up the case, and begun the walk to the front door.
"Remus," I choked, feeling as if he was raming his painful words right into my voice box. "Please."
Tears that has threatened to spill earlier would no longer be kept at bay. I clutched at his sleeve. "Don't do this to us."
"There never should have been an us. I'm sorry for everything I have put you through Tonks," I recoiled at his use of my surname. "But you have to move on."
"No." The word was a whisper on my lips.
"You'll hear from me through the Order no doubt, but don't try and contact me other wise. It'll be too dangerous for you to even approach the camp. Promise me." His hand found mine for the last two words, and I nodded dumbly, although both my heart and my head were screaming to find some loop hole in this contract.
He was out the door when I had gathered this breath between tears to speak properly. "There will come a time Remus, when I will be wearing jeans, and you will wear your old jacket, and we will sign a scrap of paper, and drink cheap firewhiskey to Sirius's memory. This," I held up the small velvet box, "this box is not empty. It's filled with the future, with our future together. This is your promise. And that is mine."
I waited for him to turn back, to drop his case and come running back inside. We would laugh about the whole stupid nonsense in years to come. He would apologise for being so dramatic, and I would cringe thinking back on my words.
But he didn't flinch at my words. He didn't even look back over his shoulder to give me once last sad glance. However, his hand hesitated for that fraction of a second longer than necessary on the door handle as he shut it behind him.
I knew a lot about Remus Lupin, he was not a coward, he was not a good cook, and he did not hesitate. He thought things through down to the finest detail, to the smallest point.
And so, I would not give up on us just yet. I wiped away the tears that had blurred my vision and rolled the empty ring box around in my hand. I sunk down to my knees and leaned against the kitchen counter.
No, this was not the end.
After all, he'd just left his best jumper in my wardrobe.
Sorry it's so depressing. But there is hope :)
Love that will not betray you, dismay or enslave you,
It will set you free.