A/N: *Tonks and Remus relationship as portrayed in the movies RANT* Now that that's over with, this is the Half Blood Prince Christmas Eve/Day gathering (kinda meshed the scenes, I realized too late) had Molly successfully lured Tonks to attend. Angsty, but not so much that Tonks would have worn her hair in a mullet (seriously, who thought that one up? Completely unattractive on Nat Tena. If you're going for rocker hair, then give her awesome rocker hair! No! No... I will not rant any further). Remus' POV. Enjoy :)
Thanks Skylar97 for being a first set of eyes on this :)
Disclaimer: JK Rowling is a genius. I merely play with what she's already provided.
"Has anyone seen Tonks lately?" Molly Weasley inquired over the chatter and the low, lilting voice of Celestina Warbeck as she poked her head out of the Burrow's kitchen. She had just completed her third round of serving hors d'oeuvres to the Order members who had taken over the brightly decorated living room and seemed to have realized the young witch's absence only after she had returned to her culinary domain. "The punch is nearly done and she has to be here for the Christmas toast."
He'd been doing his best to avoid Nymphadora during the special gathering of friends and family, and it seemed that she had been attempting to do the same. Unfortunately, as his fellows looked about in confusion for their friend, it appeared that he was the only one who had actually noticed her quietly slip away.
"She went upstairs a little while ago, Molly," Remus finally said when no one could produce an answer. Molly's face fell slightly, "Oh, the dear thing, perhaps I should have waited to give her gift to her at a more private time. Remus, could you go and get her? I'll have the punch ready by the time you come down."
He sighed inwardly, realizing that he was strategically in the worst spot of the room to have admitted his knowledge: closest to the stairs, not comfortably seated, but leaning casually against the wall. It would not do to protest however, not with the pointed look Molly was giving him, so he nodded and heaved himself toward the worn wooden steps. No one other than the Order's mothering force knew what had been going on between them. Or what was no longer going on between them. It was difficult to see how hard she was taking his rejection. Nymphadora Tonks, who had always stuck out among the rest of the Order members with her bright personality and matching hair, had entered the Christmas gathering a dull brunette and with small, tentative smiles in greeting, then had melded into the background as everyone settled in to talk. She had not escaped Remus' attention, though, and he continuously glanced covertly in her direction to see if anyone else would notice how lonely she looked sitting by herself on the fireplace hearth, Bill and Fleur on the couch to her right, the teenagers to her left in chairs or on the floor playing a game of Exploding Snap.
"Gifts!" Molly had demanded as soon as the turkey had been set to cook unattended. With a wave of her wand, packages in cheery wrappings had appeared in the middle of the room, mostly for the children, but there were two large boxes designated to Nymphadora, much to her surprise. Remus had known what they were for months - his friend had been so boastful about them - and felt conflicting emotions flare up. As the paper fell away from the shorter and fatter of the pair, Nymphadora's expression had been one of shock.
"A guitar amplifier?" she had looked up into the faces of those around her, searching for the one who may have given it to her. Their eyes had met momentarily, by accident, and she'd quickly looked away. It'd been hard enough just being around her, but in those fleeting seconds he'd seen in her dark grey eyes just how badly he'd hurt her, and it made him feel truly remorseful for his decision. He was trying to protect her, but had caused her great harm in the process. She was urged on to open the second package. Shock quickly morphed into the biggest and most beautiful smile he had possibly ever seen on her face. She had torn the box open and carefully lifted out a brilliant purple and pink tiger-striped guitar to cradle it in her arms. "It's a bass. I've always wanted a bass, but who...?"
Molly had stepped forward with a gentle smile, "They're from Sirius."
The room quieted, Celestina's crooning had not matched the mood of the atmosphere as the group grew somber in remembrance their first loss in the war against Voldemort.
"He bought them for you early in the spring. He was planning on giving them to you for your birthday and wanted to hide them here rather than at... headquarters," Molly's voice had faltered a bit, but she gathered herself together again. "I'm sorry we forgot to bring them out for your birthday, but late is better than never!"
Nymphadora's eyes had started to tear up, but her smile was genuine as she whispered, "Thanks, Molly."
Her gaze had dropped down to her gift and she'd swallowed hard, letting her fingers trace the patterns on the surface as the wooden wireless radio paused between songs.
"Well, can you make some noise on that thing, Tonks?" Fred had asked to break the silence and immediately she was bombarded with requests to play something.
"All right, all right! Shut it, everyone! One at a time," she had said with a grin reminiscent of her old self.
But it hadn't lasted. When she'd finished a few tunes, she'd excused herself to the loo. After a time she had emerged, everyone had gone back to their conversations and didn't notice her slip off into the background once more, eyes slightly red as though she had finally released the cry building inside of her. She had toyed with her gifts a while by herself, then had almost inaudibly excused herself to find a quieter place to play.
His thoughts returned to the present as Remus found himself at the top of the Weasleys' staircase where a small landing brought him to face a solitary door, the attic entry. It was cracked open and the softest sound of music drifted out. Silently, he pushed open the door just enough to peer inside. Nymphadora sat cross-legged on top of an old trunk with her back to the door, strumming. She struck a wrong chord, and abruptly stopped, revised her fingering and retried. Satisfied with the sound, she briefly practiced the chord change twice, then went back to the beginning of her melody. And then she began to sing slowly as she played, hesitating as she worked through chords, and barely louder than the vibrating strings.
"Sayin' 'I love you' is not the words I want to hear from you / It's not that I want you not to say but if you only knew / How easy it would be to show me how you feel / More than words is all you have to do to make it real / Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me / 'Cause I'd already know."
Her voice dropped out, allowing the guitar to shine in a solo, then she started to sing again, a little faster, a little more confident on the strings.
"What would you do if my heart was torn in two / More than words to show you feel / That your love for me is..."
Her voice hitched, bringing Remus' attention up from where he'd been mindlessly staring at the floor as he'd allowed himself to get lost in the sound of her heartfelt words. Her whole body shook almost imperceptibly and then the quiet sounds of crying could be heard. His heart clenched, and although he knew he shouldn't, he found his feet carrying him to her. He went down on his haunches before her, gently took the guitar from trembling hands and set it back in its open case. He meant only to take her hands, but instead found her arms being thrown around his neck as she sobbed into his shoulder and clutched him desperately. It was overwhelming having not been around her for so long to suddenly be bombarded with the feel of her body, her scent, her pretty heart-shaped face, the sound of her voice.
Don't hold her, he told himself sternly although it was a fight to comply. He wanted to comfort her, but he knew he couldn't, not in the way she wanted, not in the way he would have if they were still nothing more than friends. Finally he took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her away from him, she wouldn't look at him.
"You know I just want to protect you."
She nodded pitifully and wiped at her nose with her sweater sleeve. Remus pulled out his handkerchief for her, which she used and then crumpled between her fingers, tears still sliding down her cheeks. As he watched her, he wondered which was hurting him more: the ache of need in his own heart, the simple want to spend every second of his life with her, or knowing that it was his fault that she was feeling the same pain.
She remained quiet giving Remus a sense that he needed to offer more comfort, "And I want you to have the best life you can possibly -"
"Stop."
He shut his mouth as her burning eyes evenly met his, "I'm tired of hearing your excuses, Remus. I'm tired of telling you that I don't give a crap about how old you are and I don't care that you have no hope of making Britain's Most Desirable. I could live in the most expensive mansion with the richest man alive and I wouldn't be as happy as if I were living in some rundown shack with you, just scraping by on my salary. You are my best friend, Remus. I want you."
"And if I were to find you torn to shreds the morning after a full moon with your blood on my face and hands, I would go mad," he came back gentle but adamant with his prepared answer.
"Then I will go to Hogwarts, drag Snape by his nose to his old classroom room, and make him teach me how to brew wolfsbane potion!" she burst out angrily. "And if I'm no good at it, I'll make him brew it for us unless he wants Peeves and me to come at him with shampoo."
How badly he wanted to smile, even a little bit, but he knew it would make her think that she was starting to crack his resolve, so he kept his face expressionless and quietly extended Molly's invitation to the toast, signaling that their conversation was over. He was afraid she'd get angrier, but instead her face fell as did her gaze and she would not look at him anymore.
"Give my apologies to everyone," she said quietly, gathering her things. "I have to go."
Without waiting for a confirmation that he would do as she asked, she disappeared with a crack. Remus stood for a moment allowing the weight of her words hit him as he always did after their arguments, wishing so badly that he could convince himself that she was right. But then the image formed in his mind against his will: Nymphadora lying white and red and maimed on the floor, gutted and bled out, terror frozen on her savaged face. He loved her too much to let that happen to her, even if ensuring her safety meant that he had to break both of their hearts.
