Until the End of It Page 5
Chapter 1 – Don't Think I'm not strong
Alternating shouts of "Reparo!" and "Evanesco!" could be heard from the top of the Astronomy Tower, with a "Scourgify" thrown in every now and again. Nymphadora Tonks stood in the centre of the massive, once splendid room, working to restore its beauty and former glory. It appeared she was successful. Under her careful, determined efforts, evidence of the previous day's activities slowly disappeared from the room. While her talents with household spells were sadly lacking, Tonks more than made up for it with her restoration skills; thanks to hours spent with her father renovating various parts of her rambling childhood home.
The physical activity proved therapeutic, allowing her to channel her myriad of emotions toward something constructive. Despite efforts to keep her mind blank, her thoughts skimmed through the events of the day just past. It was difficult to believe it had only been twenty-four hours since a full scale battle had ravaged the Astronomy Tower – since Greyback attacked Bill, since Dumbledore died, since Snape turned traitor and Remus….
No.
Tonks shook her head hard, trying to clear unwanted thoughts.
Tonks mentally replayed the scene in the Hospital Wing, deliberately tormenting herself, subconsciously cementing the wall that had been steadily building around her heart all day. Her lips twisted in a bittersweet smile as she recalled how Fleur confronted the Weasley matriarch. She had always known Fleur was a woman of substance, even if it wasn't always clear just how much. Tonks and Charlie had been close in school, and she was close to the older Weasley brothers. Despite their well-deserved rakish reputations, neither would fall completely for a woman without real personality. Bill had chosen well, as had Fleur. Bill wouldn't be deserting her after she went to battle with his mother.
It really wasn't fair! She chuckled wryly; nothing seemed fair at this point. It wasn't fair that Harry should lose yet another adult he cared about. It wasn't fair that Dumbledore was murdered. It wasn't fair that Bill… handsome, charming, wonderful, Bill … was mutilated by a bloodthirsty beast. And it most certainly wasn't fair that Snape and Malfoy got away scot-free after murdering one of the greatest wizards to have ever lived. She felt the familiar sensation of heaviness in her chest.
Her cheeks burned as she recalled laying herself bare for Remus once again, only this time with witnesses. The pity emanating from everyone who witnessed Remus's rebuff added insult to injury. She had seen a glimmer of apology in his eyes when he deigned to look at her for a split second, before coldly turning away. It was exhausting – the battle she constantly engaged in with Remus, fighting to be part of his life, to justify her love.
Tonks froze. She never thought of it in quite that way before, but it made an eerie kind of sense. In every raging fight, every pleading argument, every minor disagreement, she was essentially trying to justify her love for him. It sounded absurd since he continued to maintain that he wasn't good enough for her. From the moment they crossed the line beyond platonic friendship, she had let Remus lead the way. He was the only man who had gotten past all her charmingly forged defences, seen beyond the lively, easygoing manner to the vulnerability and depth beneath. Tonks's eyes closed in remembered pain, of Remus's hoarse voice asking her to let him in, to trust him. And she still did, without hesitation.
Remus was a man of principles, and it was something she loved most about him. But he had chosen to hide behind his principles, rather than take a chance on something rare and precious. She knew he genuinely believed his lycanthropy would hurt her, ruin her life, career and alienate her family. But he couldn't seem to understand that she was already in grave danger, as a half-blood, daughter of a blood traitor, and of course, and Auror. Throw in metamorphmagus skills into the mix, and she was never going to earn invitations to the A list dinners.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the sparkling surface of one of the long windows of the towers, which gave her pause. The lank mousy hair, pallid skin, non-descript features in a haggard face gaunt from too many missed meals and intense physical training. Disguise and concealment were what she loved most about her morphing abilities. She had been able to hide unhappiness, heartbreak and evidence of tears with a simply shift of appearance. But somehow, her morphing skills had frozen after Remus left to live with the werewolves, and her unhappiness had manifested itself into her very skin. She literally looked as pathetic as she felt.
"For Merlin's sake, Tonks, get a grip!" She bit out in self-deprecation, "There is a war on, and you have already wasted too much time in self-pity and tears? Enough is enough. It is past time to move on."
Tonks took a deep breath, letting it course through her lungs, into her veins. Her eyes took on a steely glint, chin coming up in defiance of her aching heart. Remus's rather public rejection in the Hospital Wing that morning had succeeded where months of his absence and silence had not. The last spark of hope she had managed to salvage through the year, flickered and winked out. In its place, blessed numbness set in, bringing with it a calm strength, completely at odds with Tonks's natural exuberance.
She shut her eyes tightly and summoned her inner magic carefully to the surface, attempting a change of appearance. A surge of magic rose within her, as she felt the familiar sensation of her features shifting. A wave of nausea and exhaustion washed over her, and for a moment she felt rather light-headed, swaying slightly, before righting herself. Tentatively she touched her nose, a genuine smile touching her lips when her fingers found a snout. That was one of her favourite noses when she was younger, it so annoyed her mother. Not having morphed for so long, her magic must have reached for something familiar. Closing her eyes once more, Tonks let her features relax, and fit themselves to their natural shape.
Shaking her head, Tonks resolutely pushed aside her thoughts and brought her mind back to the task at hand. She studied the room with a critical eye. Despite her relaxed and casual approach to life, she was a perfectionist where work was concerned. Pivoting slowly, she scrutinised every nook and corner, her wand at the ready should any flaw in the foundations or speck of dirt dare remain.
"Whatever it is that put that look on your face, I hope it had the good sense to eradicate itself." A hoarse voice, laced with amusement spoke up from the doorway, interrupting her in mid-turn.
Undeterred, Tonks waved her wand one last time along the ledge of the window, leaving it sparkling. Satisfied with a job well done, Tonks turned, strapping her wand back into its holster.
Remus faltered slightly, warily taking in her oddly detached manner. "I…er… just wanted to see how you were. After our discussion earlier…"
"I would hardly call that a discussion, Remus." Tonks cut in, sounding almost pleasant, which only served to heighten his sense of unease. "And as you can see, I'm perfectly alright, bumps and bruises notwithstanding."
Remus ran a critical eye over her, taking inventory of the slender, tightly toned figure in dirty, stained army fatigues, her muddy combat boots, the various scrapes and bruises decorating her bare arms and graceful neck. He winced inwardly at a particularly nasty looking bruise on her temple and a long jagged cut along her right cheekbone that was caked with dirt. Tiredness was etched deeply into her delicate, heart-shaped face, and her large grey eyes looked bigger with the circles under them, giving her a gamine quality. Grey eyes….he suddenly realised that she had reverted to her true appearance. Gone was the lank, mousy brown hair, and non-descript features she had worn for the better part of the year Also missing, was the wounded expression her eyes had taken on when they were trained on him. In its place was a look he couldn't quite describe, which made him very, very nervous.
It took him a few seconds to realise Tonks was trying to get his attention "Was there something you wanted, Remus?" she asked, a trifle impatiently. "If not, I'm going to call it a night and wash off the day's filth. If you could, please let Kingsley know that the Tower is in pristine condition and no incriminating evidence will be found." Worriedly, Remus noticed Tonks was favouring her left side and walking with a barely visible limp.
"Tonks, are you sure you are okay?" Remus asked, gently. "It has been a long, difficult day." Ignoring her tiredly huffed, sardonic chuckle, he pressed on cautiously, "Perhaps you should let Poppy look you over; you were, after all, in the thick of things."
Sighing, Tonks turned back to the rumpled, shaggy haired man casting aspersions on her appearance and well-being. "Yes, Remus, I am fine. As you say, it has been a miserable day. I really just want to get out of these filthy clothes and get some rest. Poppy, has enough on her hands to be concerned with minor injuries. My Auror kit should have some healing potions. Thank you, for your concern," she finished, formally.
"I am always concerned about you, Tonks, even if it isn't always evident from my manner," Remus said, soberly.
"Frankly, Remus, I don't quite know what to make of your manner anymore." Tonks sighed. "We've said all we need to on the matter and I really don't want to rehash the immense stupidity of your decisions anymore." Her tone was mild in contrast to the harsh words.
"Tonks, you have to know this isn't easy for me either. Is it so wrong to want to keep you safe?" Remus's voice was soft, his eyes pleading with her.
Tonks sighed and faced him fully, her jaw set. "Remus, let me ask you something. At the risk of stating the obvious, we are fighting a war. Have you any idea what we're fighting for?" She stared him down, one elegant brow arched.
Remus looked startled. "Tonks…what..?" he shook his head uncomprehendingly
"Just humour me, all right?" She said patiently. "What, do you think this war is all about? Break it down for me, please."
"Well, everyone has a different stake in the matter. Much as I despise the terms, Muggleborns and half-bloods simply want to stay safe, and…" he broke off at her quelling look. "Right, in a nutshell, it is about blood purity, and the right to live your life free of prejudice." His expression changed, comprehension beginning to dawn in his eyes.
Tonks smiled wryly "Exactly. Living life without prejudice. Doesn't it seem rather hypocritical, then, to give those snot-nosed, prejudiced arseholes exactly what they want? To say: 'I am a werewolf and a danger to all around me, therefore I will allow them to oppress me and prevent me being happy,' when in fact we are attempting to stamp out barriers against all sub-human species?" she emphasised the word with undisguised disgust.
Remus blinked owlishly at her, and opted for his usual neutral stance, "I hardly think that is relevant to this discussion, Tonks," he said mildly.
His words prompted a derisive laugh from her. "Of course you don't. For an intelligent man, Remus, you can be quite hopelessly dim-witted, no offence intended," she added when he opened his mouth to argue.
"Remus, we are embroiled in a war to battle prejudice, eliminate discrimination and temper injustice. If we win, we could abolish all laws imposing barriers for all classified sub-human species, including the anti-werewolf legislation." She held up a hand to block his protests. "It's a long way into the future, I know. Provided…we all survive this war. And therein lies the kicker!" she smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"None of us knows with absolute certainty what the future holds. I could die in an Auror raid tomorrow for all we know." Remus's breath hissed at her bleak statement, unsure if he was more disturbed by the words, or the succinct way she delivered them.
Tonks pinned him with a level gaze. "I think we all got a taste of our mortality tonight, Remus." Tonks spoke as she walked toward the exit "I'm done fighting a lost cause; I've got too much else to pour my energy into." She stopped right in front of him, her eyes boring into his. "So, I'm going to give you what you want. I'm going to leave you alone." So saying, she continued on, unhurriedly, toward the open doorway.
Remus watched her go, stunned at the turn of events. He trailed behind her, watching as she began the treacherous trek down the stairs, surprisingly surefooted, despite her injuries. He felt surreal, his insides twisting and aching horribly. Deep down inside, he had grown to count on Tonks's unwavering love and support, no matter how many times he had turned her away. There was something profoundly different about her, and it wasn't just her appearance. It was a relief to see that she had her morphing abilities back, even though she retained her natural form. Descending the stairs, several storeys behind Tonks, Remus kept her within sight, his unease stemming from beyond his own despair. He had stopped denying his own feelings to himself long ago, whilst living among the savagery of Fenir's pack and missing her with a vengeance that shocked even him.
Sudden movement jerked him into attentiveness. He watched in horror as Tonks put a hand to her middle, stumbled, and fell an entire flight of stairs landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom. Galvanised into action, he sprinted agilely down the stairs, coming to a stop before her prone form, his breath suspended as he looked at her. She was deathly still. His own mind rebelled at the use of that word, and his heart roared at the possibility. A trembling hand reached out to touch the spot where her neck met shoulder, desperately seeking signs of life. He released a ragged, pain-filled breath as a thready but unmistakable pulse leapt beneath his fingers. She was alive… Dear God, she was alive. Fumbling for his wand, he sent his Patronus to the Hospital Wing, his panicked mind somehow managing to recall that it would be a bad idea to move her just yet. He sank down to the floor, his trembling fingers smoothing her hair off her face and returning over and over to the pulse, as he indulged in the worst activity for a man on the verge of nervous collapse – he waited.
AN: In case there is any confusion, I refuse to believe Tonks is naturally mousy – I believe her appearance is a result of her state of mind.
The chapter title is from Madison Avenue's "Don't call me Baby"
Don't
think that I'm not strong
I'm the one to take you on
Don't underestimate me boy
I'll make you sorry you were born
Remus, the poor old-fashioned dear, does rather underestimate the irrepresible Ms Tonks.