A/N: As a Sirius/Remus shipper, I was most displeased to find Tonks whining about Remus at the end of HBP. When I re-read the book this past week, plot bunnies started to jump around in my head and I realized I could make a short drabble out of it all. Also, I didn't want to leave for college without submitting a final fanfiction! I hope this will keep you busy while I pack and move in and get used to Marquette. So, here you are!
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me.
Enjoy!
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"Why do you have to take me here to discuss it?" Nymphodora Tonks demanded as she followed Remus Lupin into the Three Broomsticks. The small pub was dimly lit and packed with witches and wizards who had arrived in Hogsmeade to pay their final respects to Albus Dumbledore. The funeral was planned to take place at Hogwarts the next morning, and the village was busier than it had been all year. "You could have just told me back at the castle, Remus!"Remus turned around quickly, and his eyes locked with hers. "No, I couldn't have." Without explaining any further, he led her to one of the last unoccupied tables in the pub; it was set in a dark corner, a single, lit candle flickering above it. All around them, fellow denizens stared and whispered in hushed tones, undoubtedly recognizing Remus and Tonks as two members of the Order who'd been involved in the fight with the Death Eaters at Hogwarts. Remus pulled out a chair from under the tiny table and gestured for Tonks to have a seat in it; she complied wordlessly, and Remus sat down across from her. "There were too many people there," he said, though Tonks wasn't quite sure she knew what he was referring to.
"You could've –" She broke off, tears welling in her tired eyes. Remus stared at Tonks, feeling miserable and guilty and annoyed all at once, and finally offered her a handkerchief. She dabbed her eyes with it, pushed the lank, mousy hair from her face, and murmured, "Remus…"
"Tonks, you don't understand –" He paused as Madam Rosmerta approached, holding two flagons of what smelled like firewhiskey in her hands.
"On the house," she said, placing the mugs on the polished surface of the table. "You know, for all you've done." Rosmerta sighed sadly, then asked in a strained hush, "Was I really under the Imperius curse?"
Remus nodded and took a sip of firewhiskey. "You were – but come now, Rosmerta! Don't blame yourself." He placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it soothingly. "It could have happened to anyone. You aren't to blame. Thank you for the drinks."
Rosmerta left, failing to stifle a strangled sob, and Remus turned back to Tonks – who was glaring at him lividly. "So! So you can flirt with the waitress, is that what? You're 'too old, too poor, too dangerous' for me – but not for her? Remus, I don't have to sit here and listen to this –" She made to stand and leave, but Remus extended his hand to rest on hers, and she grudgingly sunk back down into her chair.
"Don't be ridiculous, Tonks," Remus grumbled, and he took another gulp of alcohol. "This is all very complicated. Personally, I'm hoping this firewhiskey will make me lucid enough to tell you what I must – although, really, I doubt that it will." He smiled faintly, then moved his gaze to meet with hers. "There's a reason I can't be with you – or any other woman – and I'll tell you why," Remus said, trying not to sound hesitant or scared. "It has nothing to do with the fact that I'm – well, you know, a werewolf. I only wish it were so simple."
Tonks stared at him for a moment, blinking, comprehension dawning on her features. "What? You mean… Oh! Oh."
Remus nodded.
Then, the smallest of smirks twisted at her lips. It was an embarrassed smile. Already, Remus noticed, the color was slowly returning to her face, her hair… "Who is he?"
Remus sighed. "No one, at least not right now – and not for a while, I think."
Tonks frowned, the gears working inside her brain, trying to piece Remus' rather vague explanations together. She glanced up again, an astonished expression tweaking her features, and whispered, "You don't mean – you and Sirius?" Remus nodded again and said nothing. "Oh, Remus!" Tonks tumbled out of her chair, sending it toppling noisily to the floor, and rushed around the perimeter of the table to throw her arms around him, crying, "Oh, Remus, I'm so sorry!"
Remus smiled sheepishly and sadly as he disentangled himself from Tonks' limbs. "Don't be," he murmured. "And don't be embarrassed, either. It's – it's why I've been so distant, since – well, you know. I loved him very much."
Tonks sighed and returned to her seat, ignoring the various stares and looks of interest that were thrown her way. "I feel stupid," she admitted, and took a long swig from her flagon of firewhiskey. When she took her lips from the silver mug, she was smiling. "When I think about it now – oh, it seems so obvious."
"Er… obvious?" Remus asked, looking somewhat horrified.
She shrugged. "Well, okay, maybe not obvious – but it does explain some things…"
Remus decided he really didn't want to know what it explained, but he let Tonks talk, anyway – she was the happiest he'd seen her in months, now that she knew Remus' rejections had nothing to do with herself. They chatted long into the evening, speaking of Sirius and Dumbledore and what challenges Harry Potter would face in the coming months. The alcohol within their flagons was drained and replaced several times as the darkness of night fell and the murmuring crowd within the Three Broomsticks grew thicker. When it came time to leave at last, Remus helped a semi-inebriated Tonks from her chair, and led her carefully through the crowded pub, steering her away from the curious gazes and voiced questions of fellow witches and wizards. "But you'll still hold my hand, how sweet," she hiccoughed.
Remus rolled his eyes and grinned, feeling somewhat drunk himself. "I may like blokes, Tonks, but there's no denying I'm at least a gentleman."
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A/N: Told you it was short! But I felt I had to write this, or else suffer the urge to strangle Tonks... That said, hope you enjoyed it, and drop me a review, even if you do like Tonks! Thanks.
-mo