part one
-:-
if you're down on your luck don't get down on yourself
it won't do you no good
'cause i've been there before, fought 100 wars
but i'm still fighting for you
—Eloise, The Lumineers
-:-
Remus John Lupin is born on March 10th, 1960.
He never wants anything other than to be wanted.
-:-
Nymphadora Tonks is born on October 20th, 1973.
She never wants anything more than to be needed.
-:-
He finds his place at Hogwarts quickly.
They call themselves the Marauders—four boys that represent each respective house.
Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs (intelligence, cleverness, bravery, and loyalty).
Deep inside, though, they are all purely Gryffindor (except for one, whose identity remains concealed far too long).
-:-
His friends—they discover his secret. They claim that don't mind, though. In fact, two of them find it cool. The third waivers slightly. But he eventually says, "Of course it doesn't matter, Remus," and so it's all okay.
Until they decide to follow him to the place of the black event, and truth is revealed (though they put it down to smarts—"Nice, Wormy! You can sneak all over and spy for us!")
(You're not really a rat, Peter, don't worry.)
-:-
His Hogwarts years go by in a flash. He's a role model student, with the exception of a couple detentions, courtesy of James and Sirius, but he doesn't get a great job, like they all expect.
(Of course he doesn't. He's a werewolf, what did he expect?)
-:-
He leaves his only true home since being attacked with four friends: James Potter (only the good die young), Sirius Black (one wrong accusation), Lily Evans (a mother's love), and Peter Pettigrew (too little, too late).
-:-
For months, he basically goes from job to shack to job and wears rags and tries to stay alive.
Of course, it's never that major of a problem—he has friends, great ones, and they're all there to help.
Until they aren't. (Dead, dead, dead, Azkaban.)
-:-
And now the world crumbles beneath his feet.
-:-
But he is still standing, because there is no justice in this world (he just wants to be with them—does it matter what it takes to get there?).
-:-
She is the daughter of a Muggle-born Ravenclaw and a pureblood Slytherin that turned out to be a Gryffindor at heart.
No one is surprised in the least when the hat cries out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
-:-
She doesn't fit in very well—she doesn't really care, though. She likes being called by her last name, she likes having hair that changes each day.
Some say she should've been a Slytherin, for the cunning she shows, while others claim she belongs in Gryffindor for the nerve that is evident in her immediately.
But she just flips her pink hair and says, "I'm where I'm supposed to be. Hufflepuff is the greatest house—you watch, Crabbe," she adds, noticing the boy in green and silver scoff, "you'll see."
-:-
They do see. It takes a boy being murdered in a graveyard, her own death, three children of heroes being placed in Helga's mighty terrain, but they do see, eventually.
The badgers of Hogwarts are not to be taken for granted.
-:-
She graduates from Hogwarts with three friends: Charlie Weasley (gone—Romania), Jacob Malley (gone—dead), and Morgan Farborg (gone—no one knows).
-:-
At this point, she is a headstrong young woman that's really a little girl with rainbow hair at heart, and she's going to be an Auror.
She'll fight, though she doesn't have a reason yet.
-:-
He's all but disappeared from the surface of the world.
His ghosts follow him. His own demons cackle in his ears.
At Diagon Alley one year, he hears a conversation that is either a gift or curse. (He's not sure.)
-:-
"Have you heard? Harry Potter escaped from the Chamber of Secrets, and he saved a little girl—the youngest Beasley, what's her name again?"
"It's Weasley, Debbie, and her name is Jenny."
"So you have heard!"
"Yes, of course I've heard. There's not a place you can go and not hear about that boy—the Philosopher's Stone, and now this—"
"Oh, Kevin, do you think one day I'll get to meet him? He's just so brave!"
"Debbie, darling, I sincerely doubt it. He's twelve, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is already out for his blood."
"But—but You Know Who is gone, Kevin! Harry Potter killed him!"
"I don't believe that—You Know Who wasn't really—he wasn't human, was he? How could he be killed? Especially by a baby!"
"Oh, it's true, Kevin. Harry Potter is a hero!"
"Maybe he is now, but sweetie, I hope he lives to turn thirteen."
-:-
Their voices continue, but Remus is already streaking out of the shop, his eyes reflecting the wolf he is inside.
Harry Potter—her eyes—his hair—Chamber—You Know Who—twelve—dead.
-:-
One owl to Dumbledore and he's up for his first full-time job since he worked at Flourish and Blotts for a whole of two months—before someone found his Wolfsbane Potion and he was fired quicker than you could say, "Werewolf."
-:-
Remus Lupin is back in the storyline, for good this time.
-:-
She's in the middle of her training during his year as a professor, but she hears all about it; all it takes is looking at a newspaper heading.
"Sirius Black: Harry Potter's Godfather, Innocent, or Insane?", "Hogwarts Professor, A Werewolf?", "Has Dumbledore Gone Senile?", "'Peter Pettigrew Is Alive,' Potter Pleads."
-:-
An innocent boy is killed and Voldemort is born (again) and no one will listen to the truth and Harry is traumatized.
-:-
On the bright side, it's her last year of Auror training!
-:-
The Order of Phoenix starts again. They don't have half as many as they used to, but they're twice as motivated and thrice as threatened.
-:-
She's finished her training—it was hard and awful and she barely passed, but that doesn't matter.
All that matters is that this little Hufflepuff is about to become more than just a background character.
-:-
They meet at Grimmuald Place.
Two stories collide, fireworks explode, true love at first sight—no.
He's too old, too poor, and much too dangerous for that.
-:-
1995 goes by in a blur. Order meetings, missions, moping.
Sirius is back, and that is really the only thing (coupled with Harry being alive and somewhat happy) that keeps him going—reliving old times.
Memories of happiness are all he has left.
-:-
It takes a few months.
One day, he's Remus and he's shy and he's sweet, but she doesn't really know anything about him, other than he's strong, but she doesn't really care to know his life story, anyway.
-:-
A few months later, she's toast, and she knows it.
-:-
He's a thirty-five-year-old werewolf that's lost his whole world. He's gray; black and white.
She's a headstrong young woman of twenty-two that thinks she can become his whole world. Her hair is purple and blue and pink and yellow and red; she's nothing if not colorful.
-:-
"No," he says immediately. "Nymphadora, I—"
"My name is Tonks," she snaps.
"Of course—I'm sorry, Tonks," he corrects himself, "but I'm not good for you."
"I'm a grown woman, Remus, and I can decide for myself whether—" she starts heatedly, but then she looks up and he's already gone.
-:-
It's after Sirius dies that everything really goes sour.
-:-
It's her first on-call, immediate mission.
She's free and powerful and soaring, despite the danger. Then Bellatrix (that bitch) attacks her.
-:-
Once awoken at St. Mungo's, she thinks that it didn't go too bad, considering, when a nurse hands her a letter with the news.
And she feels like a piece of her world has died (but nothing like what he's gone—going—through).
"Oh, Remus," she whispers, a tear dripping onto the parchment. "Oh, Harry."
-:-
They're sitting on one of Grimmuald's Place's many couches. Maybe it's just the firewhiskey she's just had, but all of a sudden, she finds herself wanting to tell him what she's thinking.
So she does. "I'm scared, Remus."
He looks up at her, appalled, but there's something else in his eyes she can't identify. "Don't worry," he says. "We're—I'm—fighting for you."
-:-
Then, Voldemort is in the open and the kids are sitting in Hogwarts and he won't listen and everything that can goes wrong.
-:-
Tower—Harry—Albus—weak—potion?—Severus—falling—flying—dead.
-:-
Tears are coming (really, she's cried more since meeting Remus than she has her whole life), and he still won't listen.
Something snaps, and she's grabbing his shirt and saying, "I don't care!" and she really doesn't—about his issues and about the kids seeing them.
They would've found out anyway, if she has her way (which she will).
-:-
The night before Dumbledore's funeral, Charlie Weasley arrives at the Burrow (they're all staying there—they need the support).
She hugs him tightly and says, "I missed you."
"Missed you, too, Nymph," he smiles, and the corners of her mouth lift slightly at the old nickname.
She sits down and grabs one of Molly's muffins eagerly. Charlie sits down across from her and flashes her that heartbreaker grin, that he's flashed dozens of girls, but it doesn't make her stomach flutter like it used to.
Then Remus walks in. She can't hold back the way her eyes light up when they fall upon him.
Charlie sends her a questioning look, which she ignores
-:-
"Fine, Dora—fine, I admit it—I'm in love you! Does that change anything?"
"Yes," she chokes, emotion coming up quickly. "It changes everything."
Then she hurls herself at him and kisses him full on the mouth, and it makes an entire flock of butterflies erupt in her stomach (nice try, Charlie).
-:-
And then her hair turns pink again, and she beams brighter than she thinks she's ever beamed before.
-:-
part two
-:-
and I don't know what to say
since the twist of fate
'cause we're going down
and the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now
—The Story of Us, Taylor Swift
-:-
Tonks squeals as he picks her up and spins her around and around and around.
The ring on her left hand gleams in the golden light, and she cherishes this moment in which her husband allows himself to just be—be happy and whole and human.
-:-
Two weeks and a day. That is how long they stay in the little cottage, where he teaches her how to hike and they lay in the snow and kiss and touch and shine and smile.
-:-
"It's magic," she says, looking up at him, eyes wide and hopeful.
"What is?" he asks, looking up from his hurried breakfast of jam on toast.
"This—this person in my stomach." Her eyes have diamonds in the corners now, her eyes are aquamarines, and her hair is as emerald as Harry's eyes.
She has never been more beautiful, glittering and glimmering.
"You mean—a baby?" He puts down his newspaper and stands up so fast his chair falls over.
She wipes her eyes and holds out her hands—the universal sign for I need a hug.
"I'm pregnant, Remus," she says and he runs over to her and hugs her, hard enough to make her back hit the wall, but he doesn't care, because his face is already in her sparkling emerald hair.
-:-
War goes on.
They sit in their little country and touch her stomach gently, feeling the future.
-:-
Her father is killed.
She cries and cries and cries.
She wails and weeps and sobs.
Sparkling gems fall from her eyes like they're falling out of a mine.
He captures each one.
-:-
"If it's a boy," she finally gasps, after days and days, "I want to name him Teddy, after my—after my dad."
She sniffles and he hugs her and wonders how he got so lucky as to find her.
-:-
Teddy Remus Lupin is born on April 3rd, 1998.
He never wants anything more than a mummy and daddy.
-:-
"He's beautiful," she whispers, looking at the baby in her arms.
He kisses her forehead. "He takes after you," he says, gazing at the little boy's ever-changing hair adoringly.
-:-
"I have a son," he mumbles to himself one night in front of the fireplace, after Dora and Teddy have gone to bed.
"If you could see me now, Prongs."
-:-
Teddy is not even one month old when it happens.
"I'm sorry," he says to her, ignoring the plea in her eyes. "I'm going. But you can't—you cannot follow me. Stay with Teddy, Dora, please."
"I will," she answers easily, glancing at the crib where the blue-eyed boy is sleeping peacefully, unaware of the war that is coming to a peak on the other side of the door.
"No," he says, and his voice is hard. "Promise me."
She falters, looking again at the baby's crib. "I promise."
His eyes are still suspicious, but he kisses her and looks at Teddy and whispers, "I'll be back," before his cloak whisks out the door.
-:-
"I should stay," she says, pulling a petal off of the rose she'd managed to scrounge up by scouring every room of her mom's house.
(Andromeda is sleeping. They didn't tell her of the battle that is raging on outside.)
"I should go." Another petal comes off.
"I should stay." Another.
"I should go." Another. One more.
"I should stay." All the petals are gone. Her mind is made.
"I love you, Teddy," she whispers, kissing his forehead.
Then she gathers her wand, pulls on her coat, scribbles a note to her mother with four words on it: Love you. Battle. Tonks, and waves one last time to the boy.
"Forever, Teddy," she mumbles as she opens the door. "Mummy loves you forever."
She's gone.
-:-
She fights, and she has a million reasons.
(Teddy's life, a million times over.)
-:-
He doesn't know it, but Teddy Lupin is an hour away from becoming an orphan.
-:-
"Dora!" he roars, running to where she's standing, frozen. "Dora, move—"
It's too late.
-:-
The green light illuminates her body. For a moment, they are suspended in time, him staring at her, horror struck.
Then she falls, he hears screams, and her killer is gone (but he knows who it was).
His angel made of jewels and rainbows has crumbled, but he's a werewolf, damn it, and like hell is she going to die in vain.
-:-
"I'm sorry, Teddy," he whispers right before the curse hits him and he flies, up, up, up, to where she's waiting for him.
-:-
Remus—Tonks—Great Hall—side by side—oh, no—not them, not them—what about Teddy?—no, no, no—peace now—no—dead.
-:-
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Written For:
- White (positive) on Empress Empoleon's Colors Challenge on HPFC.
- Round One on love from elysium's Canon Competition on HPFC.
- Aster on Slytherin Cat's Greenhouses Competition on HPFC.
- Wormwood on AStitchedUpHeart's Create-A-Potion Challenge on HPFC.
- Molly Weasley, Victoire Weasley, Fred Weasley, and Fabian Prewett on Bad Mum's Weasley-Potter-Prewett Challenge on HPFC.
Don't favorite/alert without reviewing, please and thank you.