SPOILERS FOR DEATHLY HOLLOWS

What happened in the life of Lupin and Tonks surrounding Lupin's appearance at No. 12 Grimmauld Place in Book Seven.

The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.

Protego!

CRACK!

Late Afternoon, the Day after the Wedding

Andromeda froze just inside the door. The bag of groceries fell from her hand. She narrowly avoided tripping on the fruit rolling across the mat as she staggered back against the wall for support. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and launched herself down the hallway. She had returned home to one of the most frightening sounds a person could hear in these dark times: the sound of sobbing.

Andromeda Tonks, née Black, had lived through the first war with Voldemort, and she knew well that the only thing worse than sobs were screams, and the only thing worse than that was silence. Her wand was clenched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles had gone white. By the time she reached her daughter's room she was panting, despite being only forty-six and still in decent shape; it wasn't so much the strain of sprinting as it was the fear that had taken her breath.

She burst in to see Nymphadora curled on her bed, clutching a pillow, and howling, tears pouring down her face. Andromeda was at her daughter's side so fast she might have Apparated. Wrapping her arms (still holding her wand, just in case) tightly around Nymphadora's shaking shoulders, she pulled her daughter close.

"What is it? What's happened?" She could hardly bear to ask the question; it burst from her almost unwillingly, hysterically.

"R-remus," Dora sobbed, "he's g-gone!" She wailed, burying her face in her mother's shoulder.

Andromeda's head reeled so that she could hardly think. Remus Lupin, gone? Surely such things were all too possible these days—once again—but now?"How?" she asked, her voice small. "Was it—did they come for him here? Was it because—are they hunting Half-Breeds now? How did they find him…?"

Dora shook her head, and Andromeda noticed that it was an ordinary brown. Far from being pleased at seeing something she so often badgered her only child about, however, Andromeda could think of few things that would have caused her throat to tighten so much as the absence of that horrid bubblegum pink.

"Not dead," her daughter snuffled viciously into her shoulder, "gone."

It took some time for Andromeda to work out just what this meant. "For the…doing something for the…for the Order?" she asked in a voice that was unrecognizably high-pitched.

Nymphadora shook her head, mute save for her crying.

Andromeda felt something go cold inside her. "He left?" she hissed, and if she could have seen herself at that moment, she was have been terrified at how very like her older sister she looked.

Dora gave a hiccoughing kind of sob that sounded like it might have meant "yes."

"Heleft," Andromeda said again, shock and rage warring within her for dominance. She knew it had been a mistake—certainly Remus had seemed a perfectly nice fellow, but still, awerewolf, how could Nymphadora have ever thought…

She didn't realize that she had apparently spoken this aloud until she felt her daughter jerk away from her. "Don't you dare!" she snapped, her eyes fierce through their curtain of liquid.

"Well honestly!" Andromeda snapped, "running off like that! Suppose he couldn't take the responsibility! Worried they'll be putting the Curse on him next, I imagine! Goodness know that Bell—Les—that woman would love to punish him for, for daring to sully her precious family with Half-Breed blood! Couldn't take the strain, I suppose!" She was fuming, her dark eyes snapping with rage. A few red sparks jutted out of the tip of her wand and she hastily put it away before she scorched her daughter's comforter.

Dora's face was very white and her expression stony. "I know exactly why he's gone," she said flatly.

"The wild side showing through then, is it?"

Nymphadora glowered at nothing in particular, one hand on her stomach. "It's because he's a moron and he thinks we'll be better off without him."

"I think he's just showing his true colors at last," Andromeda snarled unkindly. "Running off and abandoning you at the first sign of trouble. Even a wolf will mate for life and look after the cubs, but I suppose when you're only half of something you just end up with the bad half…"

"Don't you dare!" Dora shrieked. "Don't you dare say that! After what your parents did when you married dad, how could you—could you—hypocrite! I can't believe you! You're horrible!" and she burst into renewed sobs, throwing herself down on the bed.

Andromeda leaned forward, stroking her daughter's shaking shoulders. "There there, sweetie, don't take on so," she babbled helplessly. "We'll think of something, you'll be all right. And you know, he might be right, you might be better off—"

"I—will—not!" Dora roared and knocked her mother's arm away. "You sound like your sisters!"

Andromeda gasped and rocked back on the bed. "I most certainly do not!" she snapped. "I always thought he was quite nice, you know that, I never said a thing about his, his problem, but well, clearly there's some fact behind all rumors, this deplorable behavior just confirms it…"

"Fact behind all rumors!" Dora echoed shrilly, spinning around to face her mother. "And I suppose Mudbloods aren't as good as pure wizards then!"

"I never—never—Nymphadora!"

"Don't call me that!"

The two women glared at one another so fiercely the air hummed. The tension snapped violently as the bedroom door slammed open once more, this time admitting a sweaty, pale, and panting Ted Tonks.

"What's happened?" he gasped.

Nymphadora flung herself onto the bed with renewed sobs.

"What is it?" her father asked anxiously, rushing into the room.

"Remus has left," Andromeda said coldly.

"Oh, Dora!" Ted crushed his daughter in a fierce hug. She clung to the plump wizard, tears streaming ferociously down her pale cheeks. "But he'll be back, surely?" He looked back and forth between his wife and daughter for answers, but Nymphadora was sobbing too hard to speak.

Andromeda replied instead, "I highly doubt it." She sniffed imperiously. "Clearly there is a reason werewolves enjoy such appalling reputations."

"Andromeda!" Ted snapped, glaring at his wife. "Stop acting like a Black."

She recoiled as if slapped. "I—never—" she gasped, white-faced.

Ted shook his head. "It's entirely possible that we'll be babysitting color-changing cubs in the future," he said primly, "so you had best get over your werewolf prejudice at once. I know," his voice became much gentler, "there are quite a lot of horrible ideas your family tried to shove into your head, 'Dromeda, but you've just got to remember that the Blacks are nutters and get rid of them."

He turned to his daughter, whose sobs were gradually growing fainter. "And Dora, shh, don't take on so. Remus is a good man, I'm sure he means well by this silly behavior, but he'll be back, don't you worry." He patted her on the back and helped her sit up again.

Nymphadora's fists were clenched so tightly they were trembling and tears continued to pour down her cheeks. She sniffed mightily. "He's…so…stupid!"

Ted chuckled. "I know, honey. People get like that when they're in love, you know." He winked at his wife, who was struggling between indignation and mortification.

"Perhaps," Andromeda offered in apology, "perhaps your father and I could try to find him and convince him to come back."

Ted shook his head. "Might be better not to look for him. We've all got Death Eaters tailing us whenever we leave the house, and trying to follow Remus might make it look like he's up to something risky."

Nymphadora's lips compressed to a thin white line. "He can take care of himself," she murmured unhappily, as if someone had Imperiused the admission out of her.

"He's a very good wizard," Andromeda added, extending the olive branch farther.

Dora kept her face turned away from her mother. Then she sniffed and nodded sharply. "Yes, he is."

Andromeda sighed, her shoulders sagging in relief. Ted gave her an encouraging smile over their daughter's mousy brown head. "He'll come back soon enough, shamefaced and apologetic," Ted assured them jovially.

"You just have a little rest," Andromeda suggested. "I'll have dinner ready soon, you just relax until then, dear." Nymphadora still didn't look at her mother, but she did nod politely.

Mr. and Mrs. Tonks stood up carefully and stepped to the door. They looked back at their daughter who was biting her lip but no longer crying. She looked pale but almost calm, although there was still no hint of bubblegum and her face was splotchy from tears. Her parents exchanged worried smiles and turned to go.

"Oh," Dora yelled suddenly, "I am going to kill him!"

...

Lupin stormed out of Grimmauld Place so angry he almost forgot to Disapparate on the top step. He jerked from his rage as the Death Eater leaning on the fence started up in surprise and reached for their wands. His was still in his hand and he snapped off a nasty jinx before he turned sharply into the dark compression of space.

Fortunately Lupin was good at Apparating, because it was risky to attempt it with concentration as scattered as his was right now. He didn't feel splinched as he popped back in, and all his body parts were still attached. Swearing unintelligibly under his breath, he had stalked halfway down the street before he realized where he was.

He stopped so suddenly he might have run into a Shield Charm. Somehow he had ended up at Godric's Hollow. He stared around at the cottages that had once been so familiar—it was almost like coming home, but in a painful, twisting way. He saw the black, broken mass that had once been James and Lily's home and he moaned out loud.

Tearing his eyes away from the horrible marker, Lupin spun and, with a loud CRACK, he vanished.

...

Andromeda watched her daughter uneasily out of the corner of her eye. Nymphadora had lost patience with her mother's "smothering spying," as she'd snapped on more than one occasion over the past week. She was trying very hard to seem cheerful, talking brightly as she helped chop herbs.

"Oh—sorry—" Dora picked the scattered gurdyroots off the floor, knocking against the table on her way back to her feet. Her daughter's forced smile made Andromeda's heart ache. She sniffed and wiped dull eyes, then turned back to the herbs with a laugh. "Good thing I didn't turn the other way, wasn't it? Maybe you'd better slide the cauldron over a bit, mum—there, that should be safe!"

Nymphadora's hair gave the lie to her pretense. No matter how hard she smiled, it remained a dull, mousy brown.

Ted raced into the kitchen as the wall clock began to shrill. Someone had just crossed the protective barriers around the house, and while that could have just meant one of their friends or a member of the Order had decided to stop in, in times such as these it meant wands out and ready.

There was a bit of jockeying for position as they hurried out the kitchen door and into the yard; Dora and Dromeda were both trying to keep the other in the center of the trio for protection.

"Mum," Dora snapped under her breath, "I'm an Auror."

"You're also pregnant," Andromeda replied shortly. "Stay behind dad and I."

Ted very prudently smiled at the two women and said nothing.

They held their wands tightly, but unobtrusively down at their sides. A lone figure was walking slowly up the yard.

Nymphadora suddenly gave a small shriek that was hardly more than a gasp and raced forward. Andromeda and Ted had their wands up and pointed before they realized who their daughter was running towards.

Remus Lupin looked pale and stiff and seemed unable to pull his eyes away from his shoes. Dora launched herself at him furiously, her hair a bright blur of color. She sobbed softly and buried her face in his shoulder. Lupin stood frozen a moment, as if he had forgotten how to move, before his arms jerked up and closed around her.

His lips moved stiffly. "Dora, I," he started, but she pulled back. He hair burned angry red and spiky.

"You idiot!" she screamed, shoving him away from her. Lupin stumbled and fell backwards. She glared down at him furiously. "I cannot believe you! How could you? I hate you!"

"I'm so sorry," he began.

"I could kill you! You're such a moron!" She turned away, crossing her arms tightly. Angry red sparks shot out of the wand she hadn't remembered to put away.

"I know," Lupin murmured quietly, his face burning with shame. "I'm so sorry, Dora, I can't possibly…you have no idea how…sorry I…" His voice trailed off and he shook his head, unable to find the words to explain.

"Well," said Dora cheerfully, "as long as you know already." She reached down and hauled a bemused Lupin to his feet. Her hair was bubblegum pink again as she wrapped her arms tightly around the werewolf. This time he returned the hug fiercely, relief and regret and shame and love mixed so clearly on his face that the two watching from the kitchen doorway didn't need to hear the words he whispered in their daughter's ear to know what he was saying.

Ted stepped back inside, motioning Andromeda after him, and gently closed the door. He was beaming. Andromeda suddenly had visions of clumsy Technicolor puppies crawling around her neat living room. She glanced at Ted, and smiled happily.