Loyalties
by : epiphanies
"I should have known, Tonks."
A young woman rolled her eyes, not facing the owner of the heavy voice which had just echoed from a modest kitchen dinette.
"Don't be ridiculous," she rounded on him, placing her hands on her hips that reminded the man she spoke to secretly of Mrs. Weasley. She sat down across from him and wouldn't let his eyes wander from her own.
"Remus," she said gently, reaching across the table for his hands as they clutched idly at the tablecloth, "you couldn't have known. We all believed Dumbledore, he had never given us a reason not to."
"But what if-"
"'If Dumbledore believes it, it's good enough for us.' Remember?"
Remus hung his head much lower and moaned quietly, "How naive we were..."
"Dumbledore had never steered us wrong, Remus. We don't know, but perhaps he hasn't yet."
"Except in his death, of course." Remus replied loftily, though not replacing his weary eyes.
Tonks shrugged a little bit, and tried to massage Remus' pale hands in soothing.
"We don't know, Remus. Perhaps... perhaps he meant to die. Perhaps it was the only way of showing Snape for what he truly is. Perhaps it was the ultimate test that needed to be taken to find out where his loyalties lay."
Remus snatched his hands away from her.
"How could he have turned his coat so often? How could he have fooled us, all of us-"
He stopped short, his fists clenching and unclenching on the table, to become still again as he closed his eyes.
"All of us except Sirius," he said quietly, "and Harry."
Tonks felt a sick feeling rise in her middle. She had met Snape only a few times, the last being their encounter at the beginning of the past school year. Snide as always... but more cruel?
"There is nobody to blame for Dumbledore's death," she said quietly, standing up to move around the table and crouch in front of Remus, looking up at him with pleading yet firm eyes, "except for Snape. It was not foreseeable, Remus. The highest intelligence, the smarmiest intuition, the quickest reflexes, nothing could have saved him. He was the finest wizard in the world and though it isn't fair that he died at the hand of that filthy twisted turncoat, we can't erase it. We can venge it, though, Remus. We can beat it, like he would have wanted us to. We aren't alone," she finished softly, patting his knees where her hands rested, "and never will be alone, as long as we remember him, cherish his memory and believe that we have the ability to do whatever we can."
She laughed haltingly at the look he gave her.
"What?" she propelled herself upward from his knees and he stood with her, looking rather windswept all of a sudden. She smiled, "You think because I'm clumsy I can't mutter out an inspirational speech or two?"
Remus smiled, and at that moment, it was a genuine smile. His eyes, though still weary, seemed younger in her presence.
"I hope that you are right, my dear," he said quietly, linking both of his hands in hers and looking seriously into her face, "and please just remember one thing?"
"What's that?" she frowned.
He closed his eyes and leaned into her so that their foreheads were touching.
"Never try out a speech like that if I haven't had my potion."
She laughed and wrapped her arms around him.
The world had considerably darkened since the death of the greatest wizard of all time, yes, but Tonks felt that, at that moment, Dumbledore had given them all the gift to the occasional ball of light: the knowledge and persuasion that in a world where there exists so much darkness, friendships and trust may light the way to a future- a future which may hold hardships, loss, tears, frenzy and pain, but may also be a home to all of the things a single person can gather if they live a full and rewarding life.
"To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."
May You Rest in Peace, Albus Dumbledore.
end.
