Where Monsters Lie
By Isisuf
Pairing – Remus/Tonks
Warnings - adult themes, violence, gore, sex, cursing
Disclaimer – I don't own any of this and, sadly, never will.
Summary –Remus returns to England after a six-years of trying to escape the memories of his relationship with Tonks. Though Voldemort was defeated seven years ago, some Death Eaters are still on the loose and a crisis occurs in which Remus finds himself fighting side-by-side with the one woman he's tried so hard to forget.
Author's Notes – Thank you to my betas, adianavy and anotherdreamer5. I poured a lot of myself into this story and I'd greatly appreciate some feedback. Thank you for reading. Updates will be sporadic.
Chapter One
In the seven years since Voldemort's defeat, little had changed in Diagon Alley. The cobblestone streets bore no evidence of the wizards and witches who had trod upon them over the years. Flourish & Blotts, Gringrotts Bank and even Ollivander's Wands, minus the unfortunate Mr. Ollivander, continued serving London's magical community as they had for centuries.
But, Diagon Alley had never changed much, despite the passage of time or turbulent events it went through. The wars with the giants in the 6th and 7th centuries, the goblin rebellions in the 17th century and even both wars with Lord Voldemort had not managed to make a lasting mark on the wizarding world's economic mainstay. And so, it should have come as no surprise to Remus Lupin that during his six-year absence, in a time of relative quiet, little had changed. For some reason though, it was more familiar than he had expected.
He had known it would not be easy to come back. Precious few things in his life had ever been easy. But, he certainly hadn't expected it to be quite this hard. Everywhere he looked, he saw her – dragging him into the Leaky Cauldron for a round of butterbeers, mocking the ridiculous fashions of the day in the window of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, laughing at Fred and George's latest prank props at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
When he'd left six years ago, desperate to keep himself from further hurting the only woman he'd ever loved, he hadn't realized that her memory would haunt him every day. It was only now that he was beginning to understand that it always would.
Six long years had taken their toll on the middle-aged werewolf, even more so than the war-ravaged years prior. He'd been running from himself as much as from her memory and the memory of what he'd done. The problem, he'd found, was that it was rather impossible to run from oneself. He'd left England and devoted himself to a lonely life of mastering the art of crafting wolfsbane potion and researching alternative treatments. A grumpy loner locked away with nothing but potion ingredients and ancient texts, Remus had never felt quite so sympathetic toward Severus Snape in his life.
The fall of Voldemort had not, of course, ended the struggle against dark magic. Evil always had and always would exist. They had been sure the last of the Death Eaters would be rounded up within months. Seven years later, there were still a great many on the loose and all indications were that the once-loyal servants of Voldemort had begun banding together once again. It was for this reason that Headmistress Minerva McGonagall and Order of the Phoenix leader Harry Potter had requested his return. Remus was nothing if not loyal. So, despite his reservations and better judgment, he had returned from his self-imposed exile after six hard years.
And so, here he was, back where he saw the ghosts of them on every street corner, in every store, his arm around her waist, her delicate hands lightly fingering the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He was certain it would slowly kill him or land him in St. Mungo's.
The thoughts of them were so vibrant, weighing so heavy on his tired mind, that he was almost grateful when a small boy ran out of the apothecary shop and collided with him, tripping over a raised piece of cobblestone.
"Are you okay?" Remus asked, kneeling down to the boy's level and offering him a hand up.
The small boy took Remus' proffered hand and raised himself up, dusting off his knees.
"I'm okay, mister. Sorry for runnin' into you," he smiled.
Remus smiled back at the oddly familiar child and ruffled the kid's short brown hair.
"You be careful. I'm glad you're all right," he said.
The child's grin grew larger as he stared with big blue eyes at Remus. Suddenly, the boy blinked and his blue eyes turned to a light amber brown.
"I trip a lot," the boy confided in him. "Mummy says its genectic."
"Genetic," Remus corrected, staring at the boy bewildered.
He was sure the boy's eyes had been blue… bright blue. But they certainly weren't now. The child's amber-brown eyes twinkled as though he had some hidden secret and an impossibly wide grin promised that he really wasn't very good at keeping secrets.
"John!" A woman's voice shouted frantically.
"I'm here, mummy," the boy shouted back.
Remus' eyes went from the perplexing child up to the boy's mother.
His breath caught in his throat.
"John! You know better than to run off like that, what if –" her voice died as he saw him.
"Remus," she whispered.
Remus opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came. Age had done nothing to mar her unique beauty, but he had a feeling that her abilities as a metamorphmagus had nothing to do with that fact. Simply put, she had aged and aged well. At 33 now, hints of a few wrinkles were beginning to show around her eyes, but they suited her somehow. Her short pink hair was exactly has he remembered it, though he could have sworn it dulled some as she noticed him. And, her stormy eyes reflected far more emotion than she would be comfortable knowing he'd seen.
"Mummy, do you know this person?" the little boy asked, grabbing Tonks' hand.
"I used to," she replied sadly and something in Remus' heart broke at the words.
"I ran into this guy. He's nice," announced the child.
Tonks tore her eyes from Remus to look down at the little boy with a mostly forced smile.
"By 'ran into' I suppose you mean literally? Fell flat on your bum and all?" she asked with strained amusement.
"Uh huh," the boy nodded. "But he was real nice. He helped me up and he smiled at me."
Her eyes flickered to Remus hesitantly before looking back down at her son. Her son. Tonks had a son. The thought hit him like the Hogwarts Express. Tonks, his Tonks, the woman whose memory had plagued him for six years, had a child.
"Hey, little man. Why don't you go with Aunt Ginny and Aunt Hermione for some ice cream?" she asked her son.
Remus glanced past Tonks and her son to spy Ginny Weasley – no wait; it was Ginny Potter, now – standing next to Hermione Weasley. Both women smiled hesitantly and almost sympathetically at him, Ginny holding the hand of a little boy who looked to be slightly younger than Tonks' son and Hermione holding an infant dressed all in pink.
Aunt Ginny. Aunt Hermione. Well of course, they were sisters-in-law now, weren't they? Aunt Ginny… Aunt Hermione. Did that mean one of the Weasley boys was the father of Tonks' son? Had Charlie or Fred or George swept in after he left? Had one of them held her hand while she'd been at St. Mungo's recovering from the gouge in her side he'd so unwittingly given her? Had one of them been there for her when he couldn't? When he wouldn't? Certainly someone had, John was proof enough of that, but he couldn't help but feel his jaw clench painfully as he thought of one of the Weasley boys kissing her, touching her, making her scream their name in a breathless prayer.
"Chocolate! Can I have chocolate, mummy?" John squealed.
"Sure, just don't leave Aunt Ginny and Hermione's sides, okay? I'll meet you in a few minutes," she told him as he ran eagerly to his aunts and grabbed Ginny's free hand.
Somehow, Remus found his voice.
"He's beautiful, Nym," he said.
A pained look overtook her face and wasn't sure if it was because he'd spoken, because he'd inadvertently fallen back to calling her Nym, or because he was simply there.
"Tonks…" he corrected himself.
"Thank you," she replied, but her face looked no less pained and he wasn't sure if she was thanking him for calling her son beautiful or for correcting himself on her name.
There was an awkward silence for a moment as they stared at each other, three meters apart, but with so much distance between them.
"How old is he?" Remus asked her.
"He's five," she replied quickly and quietly.
"Five…" he breathed.
Five meant she hadn't waited more than a few months before moving on. Five meant he'd probably been in Poland, researching the history of the development of wolfsbane potion, still hoping that one day he'd be safe enough to be back with her, when she'd given birth to him. Five meant that she'd certainly haunted him more than he'd haunted her.
"He's a good kid," she said suddenly, the silence weighing too heavily on them both. "He's got my clumsiness and my restlessness, but he's a good kid."
"He's a metamorph," Remus stated.
She looked at him quizzically. "How did you know?"
"His eyes changed… when I was helping him up," Remus said softly.
Tonks nodded, chewing her lip.
"He's taken to copying people's eye colors," she said. "Its good practice for him, I suppose. He's got far more control over it than I did at his age, or so my mother tells me."
Remus nodded and gulped, willing himself to look away from her. He couldn't. Something about her drew him in, as it always had. She, however, apparently found herself able to tear her eyes from him. She looked to her feet and traced the edge of the cobblestone with her toes.
"So, you're back."
It wasn't a question.
"Harry and Minerva asked me to come. They said they need my help," he replied, almost apologetically. "I'm meeting Harry shortly at the Leaky Cauldron."
"Of course," she whispered. "Of course, they needed you, so you're back."
"It's… it's good to see you, Tonks," he told her, sounding as though every word pained him to say.
She looked up at him, searching for something.
"Is it really?" she asked bluntly, clearly disbelieving him.
No, it's not, he thought. I see you everywhere. Every day. And it kills me more each time. I can't do this. I don't know how.
"You… you look great," was all he said.
She nodded, pursing her lips, and he could have sworn he'd seen her eyes water some.
"Right," she muttered. "Well, I should get back to my son."
"Oh," he said. "Right, sure."
"I suppose I'll see you at the Order meeting tonight?" she asked him.
"Yes," he replied.
"We rotate where we hold meetings, now. Tonight's meeting is at my flat," she informed him.
"Your flat?" he asked.
"Yes. I moved when you… well, I moved. I suppose Harry will give you the address when you meet with him," she said and paused for a moment. "It really is good to see you, Remus."
She didn't wait for him to say it back. She turned and left without another word and it was only once her pale pink hair ducked into Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour that he found himself able to breathe again.