Title: Not Meant to Happen

Pairings: Remus/Tonks

Rating: PG

Timeline: Companion to the chapters 39 and 40 of Brave New Hope

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belokgs to J.K. Rowling, not me - my writing is not for profit.

Summary: Tonks has something important to tell her husband.

A/N: Because so many things happen at the same time and not all of them fit in the main plotlines of the Brave New... Series, I decided that this would be the best way to give you a little peak into some of my secondary characters' (punctually also the main ones) lives. That said, from time to time, some out-takes may make an appearance :D Here's the first, featuring Remus and Tonks.

July 1997

There was something odd going on with his wife, Remus thought as he observed the woman in question with narrowed eyes from the small cooking area of their sitting room… Something odd and downright… disturbing. What that 'something' was, though, he simply had no clue about…

Someone from an outsider's point of view might have not noticed it at all – after all, it did seem like a pretty normal evening: they'd quietly made it back home after a rather disappointing Order's meeting at the Burrow, had dinner after Remus had put something together for them to eat and then he'd gotten in charge of the cleaning – which was usually Tonks's task but which, given her having been a bit under the weather lately, had been taken over by her (very devoted, slightly overprotective) husband. All in all, the poster-picture of normal.

Except it wasn't.

Starting with Tonks having spent all day avoiding his questions concerning her trip to St. Mungo's that morning, passing through her uncharacteristic lack of attention during the Order meeting that afternoon and ending with the fact that she was humming while filling auror paperwork on the sofa – an activity generally filled with all sorts of curses against said paperwork and whomever had assigned her to do it in the first place – there were plenty of alerting signals. Something was definitely up, Remus thought.

Maybe he was overreacting, he admitted to himself in his usual diplomatic self. After all, it was clear Dora looked better than she'd had in days – her face was much more colourful now, as opposed to the pale, ghoulish person who's walked around their flat lately, not to mention her hair, that night presenting a dark pink tone closer to her usual bubblegum pink than it had been in days due to her lack of ability to morph when feeling ill. She had even managed to, so far, keep her dinner down, which was quite a victory, bearing in mind how hard an achievement that had been in the past few days. Those were obvious reasons to be cheerful, no doubt, but there was something… overboard about her behaviour. He loved seeing her happy more than anything else in the world – no one, especially not himself, could deny that. Still, she was too happy. Even for her, especially when that was combined with all the secrecy that had been surrounding her all day.

His eyes remained on her through the following minutes while he waited for the kitchen to finish cleaning itself by magic, waiting for some sort of gesture or action that would reveal whatever she was up to. But it just went on: she just kept smiling in a absent-mindedly open fashion and humming The Weird Sister's latest single under her breath as she filled in her usually so-hated paperwork – which, that day, was distinctively larger in quantity than usual. Kingsley had, after all, kept her on desk duty lately due to her health issues and, secretly, at Remus's request too.

Maybe that was it, he thought, a bit nervously – maybe she'd found out he'd gone to Kingsley and asked him to keep her grounded. Maybe all that smiling and cheery behaviour was her rejoicing at the thought of whatever vendetta she had plotted against him – she might be one of the nicest people he knew but, Merlin, she could be mean when someone pushed her enough into it. Likely, it was the Black side of her genetics kicking in that made her that way…

After taking a moment to check if the kitchen was perfectly tidy already, Remus took a deep breath and approached the sofa she was sitting on. What was it they said about taking the erumpent by the horns? He thought, swallowing hard. "You seem distinctively jolly tonight," he observed.

Tonks looked at him and smiled. It wasn't a plotting smile or a mean one, so that gave him hope that he wasn't about to get into trouble. He was just obsessing, he told himself as his wife put down the piece of parchment she'd been holding. "I have reasons to," she replied. "Among which there's the fact that there was no puking whatsoever today. Not since this morning, at least. It's a reason to celebrate all around, don't you think?"

Alright, so she was glad to be doing better. That was it… "The guys at St. Mungo's certainly know what they're doing," Remus observed. "Though you still haven't shared what they told you exactly."

She simply nodded before patting the sofa cushion by her side. "Take a seat, Remus."

He raised his eyebrows but complied. Take a seat wasn't usually the way to start a pleasant conversation… "Dora…"

"So, how was your day?" she asked, interrupting him as she swung her legs onto his own, shifting into a lounging position.

He frowned. "Dora, I don't think this is the time…"

"Hey, let me decide when it's the time and it isn't," she told him. "I just need a moment, okay? So, go ahead and tell me how your day was while I have my moment." She used her hand to tuck a strand of her dark pink, chin-length hair behind her ear in a rather casual fashion. "Well, I'm listening."

Remus sighed absently but proceeded to indulge her. "It was a perfectly calm day, as usual. I left home early, dropped you off at your parents' place, as you probably remember."

"Tricked me into visiting my Mom, ganged up with her against me and stood idly by as she dragged me kicking and screaming to St. Mungo's sounds more like it," she pointed out, narrowing her eyes as resentfully as being aware of how much she owed to that visit to the hospital allowed her.

"We did it for your own good," Remus replied, his hands absently rubbing her legs resting on his lap. He couldn't say he and his in-laws had the closest relationship ever known to the world. In a way, he understood it perfectly – nobody planned to have their only child married to a guy thirteen years older, with a dangerous affliction as baggage and a long history of being completely penniless most of the time (regardless that wasn't quite an issue anymore). Still, when it came to Tonks's own good, there was no doubt any resentment would be ignored in her favour. It was all for her own good. "Don't be stubborn Nymphadora."

She narrowed her eyes again at the mention of her full name but didn't say a word – it wasn't the time. "So, after you and my mother stabbed me on the back, what did you do?"

He had to chuckle at her drama. "Well, I went to work at the twins' shop, put out a fire for them before the clock reached eleven – no permanent damage, by the way, only minor hair charring on George's part – and pushed some paperwork for the launch of their new range of products. Oh, and simultaneously to all this I spent all day trying to get a hold of you at the aurors' department – strangely, one of the trainees kept indicating you were taking a break every time I called." He looked at her pointedly. "An awful lot of breaks you're taking these days, hum, Dora?"

"Hey, you're the one who's been telling me to take it easy for my own good," Tonks justified mildly. It was true she had gotten that poor, young trainee to cover for her – the kid was so green and excited about actually working with the real aurors that he would have donated a kidney with no questions asked if any of them asked him to – but, in all honesty, the news she had to give him weren't the kind someone broke via a floo call.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure it was all about taking it easy for your heath's sake," he said dryly. "But, also, I did floo your mother hoping she could fill me in your trip to the hospital since you were so… absent. She basically told me to go lump it, by the way."

"She told you what I told her to tell you," Tonks pointed out.

Remus sighed. "Merlin, Dora, what's so bad that you can't tell me? Is it… contagious or something? If it is and you're afraid I'm infected already, I'm sure I can live with it."

"What? No, it's not contagious!" Tonks said, her tone and expression making it sound like he'd just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. "And if it was, I'm pretty sure your kind is completely immune."

He frowned at her use of the words. 'Your kind'. It wasn't that they offended him. He thought them himself more often than he liked to admit. Certainly more than his wife cared for, which only made them sound more foreign coming from her lips. "You mean werewolves?" he asked in a low tone just to make sure he was getting it right. It was true Werewolves were much more resistant to certain afflictions and injuries than most people. It was likely the one… 'advantage' of being one, as opposed to the hundreds… no, thousands of reasons why that was a fate he wouldn't wish to anyone, not even his worst enemy.

She gave him another 'are you stupid?' look. "No! I meant guys. As in male specimens of the human kind. When do I ever refer werewolves as 'your kind', you big lump?"

Well, that sounded more like her, he easily recognized. "Well, you're not being particularly clear right now, are you, Dora?" he defended himself. "Can you just get to the point? I mean, is this all…is this about your…?" He vaguely pointed at her middle and looked away. "You know."

Not very far from the mark, are you? She thought. "My lady parts? That's what you're asking?" she asked, half-amused at seeing him blush. "Why, you're just adorable when you get all embarrassed, Remus."

He didn't smile in return, slightly annoyed at her teasing. "Dora, can you please just answer the question? What happened at St. Mungo's?"

She sighed. Alright, so the teasing was mostly her way of keeping the nerves from freaking her out too much, Tonks admitted to herself. It wasn't every day she had to break such news to her husband. That she was knocked up. And the closer she got to doing it, the louder her heart beat, the tighter her throat became…

"Well," she started, "they gave me this potion for the nausea – it should cure the most of it."

"The most of it?" he asked, worried. "Can't it cure it all?"

"Not really," she mumbled slowly, starting to feel jumpy and uncomfortable to the point of shifting back into a sitting position. "This sort of… hum… illness takes some time to… well, cure."

"Merlin, Dora, what are you trying to say?" he asked, now alarmingly concerned. The worst scenarios were crossing his mind and he couldn't tell which one was more horrific than the other. "How long is that 'some time'?"

She swallowed hard. It was then. She couldn't bring herself to just say it – the nerves were too many. He'd have to meet her halfway. "At this rate I'd say… seven months and three weeks," she declared, doing the math. "Give or take a few. It's not always accurate, really."

He just looked at her and she could tell he was completely clueless at the number she'd thrown at him. Likely, he was trying to figure out where she'd gotten such a precise prediction for a 'cure'. That was just like Remus. Being perceptive when one didn't want him to and thick as a brick wall when one wished he'd figure it all out.

"Wh… what…?"

She huffed. "Merlin, you're gonna make me say it, aren't you?" she asked in frustration. "I'm not ill. I'm pregnant."

And so it was out. The shift on his facial expression was impossible not to notice. From confusion to pure, full-blown panic. Panic that Tonks couldn't help matching herself… Because it was normal, right? A pregnancy… a baby… It was a big change. An huge one, for two people who'd only come to terms with their feelings for each other little more than a year before – especially considering one of those two people, namely one commonly referred as her husband, always avoided the matter of children like it was the black plague. So, yes, panic had to be a perfectly normal reaction, bearing in mind the circumstances.

"Hum, Remus?" she said, barely letting it out in a whisper. "Please say something."

He didn't. Not for several seconds, at least. "This wasn't meant to happen," he mumbled.

Tonks frowned slightly but sighed, recognizing the whole pregnancy had come in a very, very unfortunate time. She wished circumstances were better – usually, she tended to think that anyone had to be mad to bring a child into a full-blown war. Mad or really unlucky. Yet, she didn't feel unlucky. Part of her already felt so attached to that little peanut-sized being lying deep down in her womb that she'd do anything for it despite having just learned of its existence that morning. It terrified her and made her feel like the happiest person on Earth at the same time. "I know," she finally said, not really noticing that, by her side, Remus was deep in panic mode again. "We're always so careful with this kind of… protection thing. But I guess nothing is foolproof – taking potions, casting spells… For all that's worth, I really had no clue I… had a bun in the oven until the guys at St. Mungo's told me. I really thought I had some sort of stomach bug. A literal one. So, welcome to the 'I'm shocked' club. And, for Merlin's sake, try not to leave me talking to myself!" she complained when she noticed he was barely listening to her.

He just turned to her and didn't say anything. His face was expressionless. "This wasn't meant to happened."

"You've already said that!" she told him, frustrated. "Say something new! A sentence with more than five words, preferably. You're freaking me out!"

"What do you want me to say?" he replied, his voice just a little higher than before and full of frustration.

"That you're happy. That you're not. That you don't care either way!" she told him, now close to yelling. "You never say a bloody word about how you feel about having children, so right now I need anything! Anything that lets me know how you feel about this and doesn't consist of you pointing out that 'this wasn't meant to happen'!"

"It wasn't!" he replied, verging exasperation as he got up. "None of this was supposed to happen. My kind doesn't breed. My kind doesn't even marry, for Merlin's sake! This shouldn't have happened, Dora."

Tonks didn't notice how tightly she had her lips pressed together until she felt herself very nearly biting her upper lip open. That wasn't happening. That couldn't be happening. Not to her. Not to them. "So, not only don't you want this baby but also you're sorry you married me," she said very slowly, like she was trying to understand it herself. "That's just great. Bloody spectacular, really," she told him sarcastically.

"I didn't say that," he replied quietly. But in a way, he had, hadn't he? It was just a matter of semantics. "But I never should have put you in this position. I never should have put you in this risk. Look what it led to!"

"What it led to? I'm pregnant! Women have been getting pregnant from millennia!"

"Not from my kind," he said, watching as colour slowly drained from her hair and covered her face, only illustrating her anger further.

"Stop calling it 'your kind'!" she yelled. "Just because, a night every month you turn furry and a bit rabid, it doesn't make you any less human than I am! So stop using that as an excuse!"

"You really don't understand, Dora, do you? It's called a curse for a reason," he spat back. A curse that, for all he knew, could be hereditary. Only Merlin knew what she might be carrying. How badly it could tear her apart. How it would be his fault…

He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe as horrific thoughts that somehow could beat the ones that had ran though his mind back when he was wondering what terrible illness could be afflicting her crossed his mind. He couldn't bear looking at her with those images in his head, with that look of utter disappointment in her face. He wanted to hold her and apologize for his words but couldn't bring himself to. He simply couldn't deal with anything and her presence wasn't helping at all.

The solution was simple and raw. He had to go. Where and for how long, though, were mysteries to him… With that conclusion, he turned on his heels and walked away. Just walked.

"Where are you going now, damn it?"

"Away," he responded shortly, making his way to the door of the flat.

"Away where?"

"I don't know," he replied.

"You can't just leave like this!" she told him angrily asked then as he opened the door and stepped out. "You can't just walk away when you want to without a bloody word! Damn it, Remus are you coming…?"

She didn't have a chance to finish as he vanished in front of her eyes before she could. She couldn't believe it. She honestly couldn't. The whole scene replayed in her head and it just made her want to laugh. Laugh at how ridiculous it was. Because Remus wasn't that guy. He wasn't the one who walked out on his pregnant wife. It seemed like something straight out of those radio soap operas she knew Kingeley's elderly assistant wept for every afternoon at four.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, she told herself, covering her mouth with a hand as she choked back a sob while still staring at the spot where her husband had stood minutes before.

She closed her eyes and only then felt the tears falling. Her eyelids remained closed and closed. She didn't dare opening them. Because then she'd know it wasn't all just a bad dream.


His watch told him one hour and a half had passed since he'd left. It felt like days. Long tortuous ones.

Remus wasn't sure why he'd come there out of all places. His parents' old cottage in the woods. The place he had inhabited until little more than one year before, when Tonks had finally managed to break through his defences. The place where he came every full moon to lock himself up and transform into his most dangerous form. Perhaps his true form, he considered.

Falling in love with Nymphadora Tonks, such a bright, original person, had been unexpected and unwelcome at first. Letting her into his life had been a struggle against his most cautious side. Marrying her had been an impulse that he'd mostly seen as a blessing until that day – secretly, he'd always wondered if he'd done the right thing. If what they had was worth making her an outcast.

So many doubts… and they had all crashed into him that evening in the form of their child. He didn't know what to think of it, how to feel about it. Terrified. Panicked. That was for sure. Either about what it might be or about whether he'd make a good father or not. If, for some miracle, that child turned out to be normal, it would be an outcast too. The child of a werewolf, of a monster… Merlin, maybe Tonks and that baby were better off without him around. Maybe him not going back would be the best solution for everyone – he'd be one less influence in screwing up his child…

A loud sound that seemed like some sort of crack interrupted his thoughts, making him look around. He recognized it – the sound of a house-elf materializing out of thin air. But before he had the chance to spot it, a twin sound came and he was all alone. The only thing different in the room afterwards was the little red envelope resting on the nearby table.

He got up from the battered sofa he'd been sitting on and circled it, approaching the table. It was a howler, he realized in surprise. Someone had sent him a howler. But who? He wondered. Dora? He didn't have to wonder further as, as soon as he touched the envelope, it started to float on air and opened. He only had the time to sit down, preparing himself for the loud wave of noise.

And, surprisingly, it wasn't his wife's voice that came.

"I simply can't believe what I've just heard about you, Moony!" it yelled, shocking him beyond words. The voice was undeniably familiar and, for a fraction of a second, he could swear it belonged to his late best friend. James Potter.

It didn't, he concluded at some point – not only because the dead couldn't possibly send anyone a howler but also because he noted the pitch of that voice was slightly lower. It wasn't James – it was Harry.

"You left Tonks? Tonks and your kid? How can you possibly do such a thing to her? Leave her to raise another fatherless kid by choice? I don't care whatever the reason is – I'm sure nothing short of a life or death situation is enough to justify it."

The words hit him like a curse and, by Merlin, they couldn't belong to the Harry he knew. They had to belong to someone wiser, older… with much more baggage to carry.

"Knowing that when people like my parents gave their life to same their child's, you could gave up on yours so easily… It makes me ashamed. It would make my father ashamed to know one of his best friends, the person who I admired so much as a person and a teacher, a role model could actually be such a coward."

The voice ceased along with the flames that turned the massage into dust and Remus just sat there, frozen. He hadn't imagined it. The howling. He'd felt the very floor trembling beneath his feet. It hadn't been his conscience but it could have so easily been… Because, deep down, it didn't tell him anything he didn't subconsciously know. He was a coward. Just a coward. He'd left the woman he loved. He'd left the child they'd made. He'd considered never coming back…

He didn't recognize that person – that part of him. It made him sick. And, as opposed to him, there was Harry: he didn't even know that baby Dora was carrying and he was already fighting for it… for the innocent. Maybe he saw himself in it – the fatherless kid. After all, until Sirius had come around, there had barely ever been a father-like figure in Harry's life. Seeing him sticking up for his unborn child made Remus proud of his late best friend's son. It also made him feel like the worst person in the world.

And it all made him realize one thing: by walking out he might have just made the worst mistake of his life…

A/N2: Hope you liked my first attempt at writing an out-take. I loved doing it :D Feedback is welcome! Review!