Tonks and Lupin sat silently on a cold, stone bench as the evening sun set. It was a bit chillier than usual for the spring night.
Something about them wasn't right. He wasn't sure what; he wasn't sure why. It just wasn't. He didn't feel the same. He wished he did, but he didn't. No – He couldn't. All he was doing was killing her bit by bit and, it seemed, the only person, he thought, who didn't see that was her.
She didn't care anymore. That much was obvious. The young woman's light had all but been extinguished. The girl who had once beamed with an unrivaled exuberance had leveled into a dull state that showed even into her hair, which had muted from the bright violet it was known for being and into a mousy, light brown. Though she could change her appearance at will, she didn't have the will to. Though she was only a bit over 24, she felt old, she felt tired and worst of all, she felt numb. Slowly but surely, she was finding out that she just wasn't meant for the maternal life. She missed her life as an Auror. She missed the thrill of the chase, as it were, and the only thing she had been chasing the last few weeks or so was her newborn son's never-ceasing trail of used nappies. She had never imagined this life for herself but here it was.
After they had dropped Teddy off at her parents' house, they came here – their spot. She wasn't sure what was about to happen, but this was where all of their biggest conversations had happened, so it had a high probability of being pivotal. How much longer was he going to keep her waiting in silence? She shifted nervously, shivering.
He stared down at his scuffed, brown shoes and pushed up the sleeves of his grey cardigan to his elbows, revealing the still fresh wounds from his most recent transformation. The fact that it had come on the same night as the birth of his son had been enough to show him that this wasn't right. He had to just come out with it, no holds barred. His hands began to shake. He didn't want to cause her any more pain than he already had, but he had never been good with cushioning the blow of words. He'd always found it best, no matter how loquacious the delivery, to just deliver the message. He couldn't even come up with a longwinded way to put it. "I don't love you," he said, hanging his head in his hands.
The girl wanted to cry, but somehow she saw it coming. Somehow, she knew that this wouldn't last. She could tell. "Remus… I—"she began.
"No, not yet, please let me finish." He laced his hands together in front of his face and pressed them against his lips. "I wanted to. It felt so right, but for all the wrong reasons." He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes and trying to explain this gently. "You're my best friend," he said, "and I really tried. We were feeling the same things, but not in the same way. It's not right for me to… to... lead you on like this. And I know it's too late now, especially for something I've known for such a long time."
The tears began to stream down the girl's face. She had never expected to feel this from him. She didn't want to hear anymore and suspected that he didn't even deserve to be heard anymore. Still, he was the father of her child and he seemed to be really hurting too. She stood up and walked a bit away, but still stayed in earshot. Whether she wanted to or not, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe there was something redeeming in what he was about to say.
He stared after her. "I… We were there for each other in a time of need. With Sirius."
Of course. That would have something to do with it, would it not? She should have known better than to expect her dear cousin to not play a part in this. Sure, his death had played a part in bringing them together, but they were really more than that, weren't they?
"I loved him, Tonks," he began, drawing in a deep breath and shaking his head, almost in disbelief of what he was saying.
"I know that, Remus and so did I, but—"
"No, I loved him," he reiterated. "We had never felt that our relationship was anyone's business but our own – because it was our own, nothing more than that. There was no other way to put it. When James tried to label it, he had said 'domestic partnership,' but that wasn't it. We were best friends. We were opposites. We were equals. We were completely different people, going about our lives, not needing to shout our sexual exploits from the rooftops." A teary sort of bittersweetness filled his eyes, one that his wife had never seen before. It wasn't exactly sad, nor was it happy, but moreso fond. She could only wonder if he had ever lit up like that when he spoke of her; as it were, she doubted it very much. "Yes, we made love, but it was passionate and sweet and gentle. I can't explain it. I can't. The words don't seem to fit," he stammered. He was beginning to slip into his own head, running circles around his thoughts. "It was perfect and flawed and just – our own. And I loved him. And, when I thought that he betrayed them, it nearly killed me." He sighed, looking at the ground beneath his feet. "I didn't know what to believe. There was no contrary proof. And that he had obliterated all of those other people." As the man's sentences grew shorter, his pauses grew longer. He felt the hot sting of tears growing in his eyes. "For 12 years, I couldn't think about him without wondering what other horrendous things he was capable of and how it could have been me, and how I had been so…" he broke away, looking for the word, "intimate… with him. Could I have been that blind? I thought he was this infallible person – this unreal being of insight and worldliness, no matter how asinine his tendencies could be. With his family background, he should have been in Slytherin, but he wasn't and you know how much that means when you're at school. He had the capability to be everything that I hated in a human being, but still he was everything I loved. And he was so much more than even that. And some part of me still felt that he was that, but he was carted off to Azkaban, at fault for a massacre and selling out our best friends. No one knew, not even me, that he wasn't their secret keeper. How could we know that it wasn't him? James trusted him supremely, maybe more than he trusted Lily. It should have been him. And when I saw Peter's name on the map, I knew that he had to be innocent. If he had really been dead, he couldn't have been on the map. And with him alive, it meant that Sirius hadn't killed him." He was near incoherent, now – and talking himself in circles – So, he took a moment to settle himself down before he spoke again. "When it was finally shown that he was, in fact, innocent, I found that I still wanted to hate him for abandoning me. He could have made me believe him. Still, I wasn't sure how much of it was misplaced blame. I hated myself for spending all of those years hating him. But, that night in the shrieking shack, when I felt his arms around me, it didn't matter anymore. I knew that everything would be right again. And it was for a short while, until it was permanently ripped out from beneath me." He took a staggering breath and wiped away his, now ever-present, tears. Why did it matter anymore? "I don't know, Tonks," he looked up at the young woman who stood, arms folded with her back to him. "I really tried. I wanted to love you the same way but I just can't. We were mourning the same person and we were there together and you are so much like him in ways, but still you and I are so much alike. It should have worked perfectly, but I can't lie to you anymore. I can't lie to myself and I'm sorry."
Tonks turned around to him and took a deep steadying breath in an effort to still the tears which were becoming sobs. Her breath caught in her chest as she began to speak. "Remus, I… Why didn't you tell me before?" she asked.
"I just… I wanted to give us a fair try. It seemed so right."
"After everything, this was just a test run?" She was beginning to fume. For the first time in recent memory, though, the tips of her hair started to become a flaming red. "You married me, and we had a child… all for a try." Her hair had become an all-over violent scarlet, prematurely indicating the blush that was sure to come over her face. She was angry, and rightfully so. "Two years, we've been together. In two years, you couldn't find time to mention to me 'Oh, by the way, I used to date your cousin,' which, probably wouldn't have phased me much, but to follow it up with 'yeah, your male cousin.' That probably would have been vital information, don't you think? Let's face it, Remus. Do you think that I would have thrown my life away like this if I had seen that this outcome was a possibility?" He stared up at her. "Well, do you?"
He looked away. "No," he started. "And I never asked you to in the first place."
"No, no you're right about that," she said, clearly still angry but resigned to the fact that this was not a fight that she could win. Was it inconvenient, yes, but it was what it was. Just as she was getting ready to apparate back to her parents' house, they both felt the Galleon in their pockets heat up. They pulled them from their pockets, near simultaneously and read the code around the edge of the coin: "Lightning has struck." Instinctively, Tonks reached for Remus' hand and with a snap, they were in Hogsmeade.
As the battle commenced, somehow, Remus and Tonks found themselves not leaving the other but for a moment. It was much more out of habit and instinct now than anything else, but somehow, they still felt more comfortable with the other near.
The members of the Order of the Phoenix spread themselves out throughout the grounds, forming a defensive border to the students within.
She harbored a glimpse at the battered man on her left and reached a hand to him, hoping to feel his fingers meet hers. He reached back, but as he did, he saw a bit of the shield charm fall away and as such broke his gaze and readied himself for the battle at hand.
No matter what feelings changed between them, it didn't change the fact that they were parents. They meant something to one another. They had a son and they needed to fight this war for him.
And they did. The pair fought valiantly, laying innumerable death eaters unconscious in their stead. Only when Bellatrix Lestrange sauntered toward them did the tone change. "Well, well. If it isn't my niece and her husband. How are things, Nymphadora?" she spat. With the sound of her given name fresh in her ears, Tonks whipped her wand at the crazed woman in front of her, sending her flying backwards, accompanied by another blast from Lupin. "Ooh… And how will the cub react to Mummy and Daddy ganging up on poor, defenseless Auntie Bellatrix?" she shrieked, pouting.
"Not that he'll ever know you," Tonks yelled.
"Oh… pity. I guess he'll never really know you either," she responded. "Avada Kedavra." As fast as the blast of green light had split from her wand, Remus dove in front of Tonks. It was the only thing he could think of to do. Just as quickly, he lay motionless on the stone courtyard. Bellatrix let out a raucous laugh as her niece bent over the body of her husband. "I guess I'll have to try again now, Nymphadora. I hope poor sister Andromeda won't think too poorly of me," she taunted. She really didn't want this to happen without a fight. She rather enjoyed the hunt more than the kill.
Tonks stood up, rage welling in her eyes. She shot a bright red beam at the dark witch. "Crucio."
"You're not trying hard enough," she cooed as she writhed. "Didn't Mummy Dearest tell you – your Auntie Bellatrix loves pain." She stood up, legs still shaking. "Let me show you, Nymphadora – CRUCIO!" As she did, Tonks crumpled to the ground next to Lupin's lifeless body. "See? Isn't that how it's supposed to be? Or did they not show you the Unforgivables at the Auror office?"
Consciousness slipping from her grasp, Tonks plead with all her might for Bellatrix to stop and she did, only for a moment before sending a final ray of bright green toward her niece, stripping the light from her eyes.
Despite the evening's prior events, somehow it still seemed fitting that the two would fall from this life together.