A Fine Mingling

"All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on."

-Henry Ellis

Remus opened the door to his flat, listening for evidence of his wife in the silent rooms. Between retrieving Harry, losing Mad Eye, and taking care of the body, the past few hours had been eternal. Remus had been relieved to hear that Tonks had gone home nearly an hour earlier. He had hoped to find her in bed, erasing the night's memories with sleep's blissful oblivion, but he knew his wife. He knew she would be as awake as ever, awaiting his return.

The sound of slippers on the carpet confirmed his suspicion. Remus couldn't help the selfish relief that flooded him when he realized he wasn't alone.

"Sweetheart?" he called, slipping into the easy affection that they shared in private.

"Over here, love." Remus watched Tonks round the corner, his heart breaking. She looked miserable, her body quaking; her eyes red.

He sighed and beckoned her closer. "Come here, love."

He opened his arms and received a chest-ful of her small frame. He felt her break into sobs beneath his chin.

"Shhh, you're okay," he whispered, lifting her from the floor and seating them both on the couch. "We'll be okay." He buried his face in her hair and prayed for a peace that he knew wouldn't come. "You're okay; We'll be okay." It became a mantra, losing its meaning with each repetition.

Tonks's sobs increased, racking both her and Remus' bodies.

"Shhh." Remus tightened his embrace. This wasn't normal. Even when they lost Sirius, Tonks hadn't been this bad.

Remus knew he was missing something, but was at a loss to figure out what. He settled for kissing the top of her head and picking up a new mantra.

He couldn't promise anything else, so he clung to what he could.

"I've got you. I've got you."

— — — — —

Tonks awoke to the lurching of her stomach. She propped herself on an elbow, gulping air in hopes that the nausea would subside.

As the sickness receded, Tonks lowered herself to the mattress, taking inventory of the room—the curtains were drawn, the door was closed, Remus lay sleeping beside her. Everything was in its place, but she couldn't remember any of it.

She immediately regretted searching her memories. The chaos of the previous evening unfolded in her mind like a photo album: the attack, George's accident, Moody's death. Her stomach jolted with another bout of nausea.

And then there was that little bugger.

Tonks was out of bed before she could give it a second thought. Her knees hit the tile just in time for her body to lose control. The heaves were intense and violent, ripping wordless exclamations from her throat. She lost track of the minutes since she had collapsed, didn't know how long she had been clutching the porcelain in front of her. Her mind was divided between the bodily torment and her awareness of the situation. The retching had removed any doubt, but it hadn't removed the complications.

I can't tell Remus. I can't tell Remus. I can't tell Remus.

Yet another mantra, but this one didn't lose its meaning. Even as she was coaxed from the floor with warm hands and soft assurances, the message rang loud and clear. She did not correct his assumption that she was in shock. She did not stop him from slipping to the kitchen to find a calming drought. Tonks simply lay in the quiet, phantom movements in her stomach and dread in her throat.

— — — — —

"Love, stay in bed. You need to rest."

Remus could hear the exasperation in his own voice. Not two hours earlier, Tonks had been near-delirious, lying on the bathroom floor. He knew the last day or so had been hard on her, but he hadn't expected such drastic repercussions. After the emotional night and the sickly morning, Remus was concerned, and Tonks was stubborn.

"Remus, I'm fine." Her jaw was set as she made her way to the wardrobe. "The potion did its job. Relax, will you?" She gave him a playful jab as she walked past, but he took hold of her wrist before she could get too far away.

"Nymphadora," he started.

"Don't call me that." The glare was real this time. Remus knew that she was truly getting irritated, but she wasn't the only one.

"Love," he began again. "You have the day off. Please just rest." He pulled the best face he could, but knew it was fruitless. He felt her hands intertwine behind his neck.

"I'm going to rest," she smiled, "in the kitchen, with you, while we make tea." She kissed him lightly before letting her hands fall. "Now please let me get dressed first."

Remus sat back in defeat as he watched her make her way to the opposite side of the room. She paused to look in the mirror, her brow creasing in thought.

"Everything alright, dear?" he asked, studying her hands as they pulled at her night shirt.

Tonks jerked back, forcibly returning from her musings.

"Yeah." Her gaze lingered on the reflection before meeting his. "I'm fine."

Remus pushed his curiosity to the back of his mind, seeing no choice but to believe her.

— — — — —

Tonks sat on the sofa, biting her lip. Remus would be back any minute. She had to tell him.

But how?

A pang hit her stomach and she took a deep breath. It had only been a day and a half since the nausea had been too much to bear, but it was getting better. She was now able to fight it off, recognizing both the warning signs and her triggers.

But this anxiety was not helping.

She counted the ticks of the clock, begging the repetition to ease her pumping heart. It would be okay. Remus had been great the past few days—he had been great the past few months. Plus, this is what she had wanted: a life with her husband, a family.

A smile took over her face as she pictured a tiny Remus running around the house. She could see him sitting on Remus' lap while he read or sneaking biscuits from the counter. She imagined goodnight kisses and morning hugs. She thought about first steps and trips to Hogwarts. For the first time in days, Tonks smiled without trepidation.

This was a good thing. This was a wonderful thing, and they could do it.

The front door opened and she allowed herself another smile as she stood to greet her husband.

"It's nice to see you happy," he said as he placed the grocery bags on the floor. He crossed the room, causing Tonks to grin even as he stooped to kiss her. "What's got you so pleased?"

Tonks looked into his eyes, her courage growing.

"I have something to tell you."

"Yeah?" He cocked his head. Tonks felt the same old butterflies.

"I'm pregnant."

Bluntness is a virtue, right?

Remus' smile fell.

"What?"

Maybe not.

"We're going to have a baby." Tonks searched his face; her stomach clenched.

Remus shook his head, his lips pursed. Tonks watched him take a step back.

Just before he walked out the door.

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! This is a work in progress, so I'm hoping to get the second (and final) chapter up sometime in the near future. If you're able, please leave a review or shoot me a PM to let me know what I can work on to improve my future writing :)

A/N #2: On a more official note, this was written for Round 3 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. As Captain of the Caerphilly Catapults, I had to write about one member of my OTP (Remus and Tonks, baby!) keeping something from the other. For judging purposes, the word count for this story is 1,190.