Tonks was cleaning up the flour she had knocked onto the ground when she heard the sound of someone crying.
She was always bothered by her own clumsiness, annoyed by her ability to spill or break or ruin pretty much anything, but now she was feeling especially frustrated by it. Sirius and Remus were no doubt having an exciting conversation in the back room, and here she was, sweeping up the flour she had knocked over because she couldn't remember the spell for it.
But there was no mistaking the sound she heard as she tried to sweep under one of the cabinets. It was definitely someone crying, probably in the sitting room, and - she couldn't be sure, but it sounded like a man.
"Sirius?" she said tentatively, approaching the sitting room with the broom still in her hand. "Is that you?"
She didn't really think Sirius would be crying, but she didn't think Remus would be, either. Gripping the broom, feeling sort of silly, she took a few more steps closer. "Remus?"
She walked into the sitting room and dropped the broom with a clatter and a puff of flour.
It was Severus Snape, sitting by the fireplace with his head in his hands and his back to her, sobbing like a child.
Very slowly, Tonks started to leave the room. Snape had taught her Potions when she was in Hogwarts, and while she must have, at one point or another, dreamt of seeing him cry, the reality of it was a lot more terrifying than she thought it would be. Snape's shoulders were quivering, and he was bent over himself, his hair dangling forward and his robes bunching around the neck.
She was nearly out of the sitting room when Snape said, "I know you're there."
She rubbed the back of her head. "Oh."
Snape kept his back to her and said, "Hello, Tonks."
His voice was heavy. She thought of the years he had been her teacher and wondered when exactly she had gone from being Miss Tonks to being plain Tonks. "Um, hey." She left out his name because she never knew how to address him. "Are you. . . are you all right?"
He laughed softly. "I'm sitting in Sirius Black's sitting room crying in front of my former student. I advise you to use your judgement."
She nodded. "Right, well, can I get you something?" She stopped just short of calling him "sir."
"I think I'll manage."
"A drink?"
"No."
"Can I do anything for you?"
She could practically hear hims sneering. "I think, Tonks, that if I needed something from you, I would ask you for it instead of sitting by the fire crying."
"Right. Of course."
She started to leave, but Snape's sobs started up again, and she knew she'd hate it if she were left alone to cry. She approached him warily, her hand instinctively going to her wand even though she knew she wasn't really in much danger. "Professor?"
He looked up slowly, and Tonks flinched at the sight of his swollen eyes and wet face. "What do you want, Tonks?"
"I just. . . ." She hesitated. "I don't. . . I don't know what's wrong. And that's okay. You don't have to tell me. But. . . you shouldn't have to cry alone."
With that, she sat down on the floor next to Severus Snape and listened to him cry.