Okay, so I wrote this fic at three AM, so it may not be as good as some of my others. So… yeah. Read, review, etc. Smiles and huggles to all who review!
As always,
i gf
Nymphadora Tonks sat in her mother's sitting room, gazing at the dying fire; the embers crackled and glowed, emitting just enough heat to warm her vermilion painted toes. A glass of red wine was balanced by the cup between her middle and ring fingers; she took a long sip, feeling a tear trickle down her cheek.
It was Christmas eve, no time to feel so sad, and she knew it. But, honestly! He loved her! She loved him! Why wasn't she sharing his camp bed at the Burrow right now???
It was because he was trying to protect her, she knew. But from what? His age? His poorness? His… lupine qualities? She had told him, thousands of times, that she DIDN'T CARE, not one bit, but he wouldn't listen. He never did. He just wanted her to be safe and happy.
What he didn't understand was that it was HIM that would make her feel safe. It was HIM that would make her feel happy. He just wouldn't pay any mind to it, convinced that his view of things were correct.
She took another long sip from her wine glass, slumping in her chair slightly. She knew she was getting tipsy, but she was so beyond caring; she even embraced the thought of being drunk. Which she never did, she hated that annoying unaware feeling. But, she might as well lose her sense if she was forced to spend her holidays alone.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. She jumped, drifting out of her reverie. Swiveling her head towards the noise, she pulled herself out of the armchair she had been lounging in and began dragging herself to the front hallway.
Who could it be, at this hour? She wondered. Her father was in Bath with his Muggle sister and her family, her mother was ill with the flu, and all of Andromeda's friends knew that she was bedridden. No one knew that Tonks herself was staying with her mother instead of her own place. So, who could it be? If it were a Death Eater…
She drew her wand cautiously as she slowly made her way to the front door…
Remus was sitting on a stool in the Weasley's kitchen, observing the various other occupants of the household. Ron and Hermione were curled up in the same armchair, doing some bit of homework. As he watched, Ron slowly put his arm around her shoulder; she blushed and smiled, trying to concentrate on the chapter they were reading. Harry and Ginny were sitting on the hearth rug, knees touching, making paper chains to hang from the ceiling. Bill and Fleur were snogging shamelessly under a sprig of mistletoe; in fact, his shirt was halfway off and they were slowly retreating to the empty pantry. Molly and Arthur were sitting on the couch, stroking each other's hair and laughing quietly at a radio talk show. Charlie and his girlfriend LizAnne had already retired to the bedroom, probably doing unmentionable things that shall not be mentioned. Fred, George, their girlfriends Kirsten and Lola, Crookshanks, his lady cat BeBe, Lee Jordan, Oliver Wood, and their girlfriends Aimee and Julia were all playing Spin the Bottle in the corner; how the cats were participating, he didn't know, but they were side by side in their circle. As he watched, Lee leaned in towards Kirsten and open-mouthedly kissed her, to George's utter horror. He laughed at his expression when he pulled away.
All couples. He was the only odd one out.
Well, you had the option to be one of the couples…
Shut up, he told his conscience.
But you could have…
He sighed. He knew it was true, but honestly! Did she really want him, the man that was much too old for her, the werewolf, for Pete's sake? He wanted her, but why she would want him was beyond his thoughts.
You
could still have her, you know.
I know I could, but I'm choosing not to.
Why?
Because. It is sick and wrong and not right. She'd be happier without me.
You know that's not true. You know that she'd do anything for you, and if she did not get her way, she'd be eternally sad and longing for you. Don't even try to deny that one, Remus Lupin.
He sighed. He knew that she wanted him, but he almost wished it wasn't so.
An idea hit him then, probably conjured by the back of his conscience. He knew that she was staying with her mum over Christmas, taking care of her while she was bedridden. If her mother was truly too sick to move, then she really wouldn't mind if someone came to visit her daughter, now would she…?
Abruptly, not even sure if he was in control of his actions anymore, he stood. Molly glanced over, the only person emerging from the barrier of peace to see what he was up to.
"Where're you off to, Remus?" He was pulling on his cloak, snatching his wand from his bag by the door.
"Out. I'll be back in a bit, all right?"
"Don't be too long, dear, you can't be tired for Christmas morning. And make sure you wear enough clothes. It's dreadful out there." He nodded, smiling at her. And with that, he stepped into the cold night, concentrating on where he wanted to go.
With a whoosh of his coat and the turn of his heel, the Burrow was gone, and he was standing on the stoop of a very large house, marked Number 6, Poppyseed Way. Taking a deep breath, he tapped thrice on the door.
There was a creak of floorboards, then slow footsteps towards the door. The knob turned, and he saw a grayish blue eye peeking out of the slight crack the door had made.
"Who's that? Who's there? I'm armed, so watch it." God, her voice… he'd forgotten how pretty it was. Even if it was a bit slurred and croaky.
"Dora? It's me, Remus." He paused, gauging her reaction. Her eye widened, then she spoke again.
"Hangonamo." The eye disappeared, and he heard the sound of many locks and deadbolts being undone. Then she opened the door wider and leaned against the frame, crossing her arms across her chest. Her appearance was short, with graying brown mousy hair, gray eyes, and very thin. She also looked very cold, standing there in only PJ pants and a tattered concert t-shirt.
"What do you want, Rem? It's nearly eleven thirty on Christmas eve. Shouldn't you be at the Burrow?" He nodded.
"Yes, I should be, but I… Can I come in? You look so cold…" She was suppressing shivers, and nodded, pressing her lips together to stop them from chattering.
"Yeah, but I haven't got much to sup on, there might be some stale crackers in the kitchen, though." She turned, heading towards the pantry. He slipped into the sitting room, settling on a green armchair. She had obviously been camping out on a purple recliner across from him; a half-full glass rested near a bottle of red wine, and an empty chocolate box sat on the floor along with empty ice cream cartons, stepped on. A paperback book lay over the arm of the chair, holding her spot. Tilting his head slightly, he saw that it was titled 'Winning Pierre; a Newcastle Romance'.
She returned, tossing a box of saltines at him, plopping down onto her purple recliner.
"Now whaddya want, Remus?" He sighed, opening the box and popping a cracker into his mouth. Swallowing, he answered her question.
"Honestly? I don't know, Dora. I just… I just really wanted to see you, to talk to you. I know that… that I ended things, it's just that I-I couldn't stay away. You know? And it's Christmas Eve, and I knew you'd be all alone… I just wanted to see you, I guess." He looked at the floor, chewing on a second cracker. There was a long silence before she spoke.
"Well, Rem, I know how you feel. I mean… I've been dying to see you too, but I'm not sure I understand. Didn't you break up with me…?" He blushed ever so slightly, but looked her in the eye.
"Yes, I did, but I did not do it for depleting feelings for you. I broke it off because… because, well, you know. We just can't be together."
That's when she exploded.
"Remus John Lupin!!! Now, you listen here! I am so fucking sick of your goddamn 'we can't be together' shit! You need to get your effing act together, hear??? You say that you love me, then you go off saying 'Oh sorry, I'm totally for you, but we can't be together, cool?' I bet you don't even love me, you fucking bastard! Where've you been all this time? Out with some of your lady friends? Or getting call girls to do your dirty work, because obviously I'm not good enough!!!" Tears were now streaming freely down her face, and her voice was rising into hysterical octaves. In a wild flailing of her arms, punctuating when necessary, her wine glass crashed onto the carpet. She didn't even glance towards it.
"Dora, it's not like that… you know it…"
"Oh, I know it? I know it????? No Remus, YOU need to know it! You don't even care how I feel! You don't even know! I love you so much that it hurts sometimes, no, all the time, and you don't even care! You broke up with me! Then you say…" she choked on her words, sobbing, her voice growing softer "…you say that you love me too. But you don't. You obviously don't." She buried her face into her hands, her whole body shaking, crying so hard she was gasping for breath.
He couldn't take it anymore. He got up and kneeled by her, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Please… Dora…" She looked up, not even pausing before she threw her arms around his neck and crushed her mouth to his.
He tried to push her away, with every inch of life left in him. He tried. But he couldn't do it. It was not that she was stronger than him; no, not that at all. He couldn't push her away because he loved her, too. More than she knew, more than Arthur or Molly knew, more than his mates knew, more than anyone knew. He had passed his intense love for her off as a childish romance, one night stand type thing; he had been lying, lying so much it was frightening. He loved her like the flower loves the sun after a flood, if not more.
He fell on top of her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, moaning as he surrendered. As she kissed him violently, he heard her sobs cease into nothingness. After many minutes of exploring, loving, caressing, he pulled away, gasping for air.
"Nymphadora… Tonks… Don't you ever say that I don't… don't love you. I-I love you. So much…" She wildly flailed for his grip again. When their lips had almost touched, she whispered her professed passion.
"I love you too."
Eventually, he carried her to her bedroom, throwing her onto the bed and continuing to show her exactly how strong his love for her was. And she replied loving him like she never had before.
When they showed up at the Burrow the next morning, hand in hand, no one had to ask what had occurred the previous night.
It was a Christmas to remember.
Yay, so fluffeh! Kind of late for this, but Merry Christmas to All!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-i gf
