Disclaimer: The characters and places mentioned in this fic are copyright to J.K. Rowling.
A Winter Walk
by Dancingkatz
It was much colder than she liked but she didn't want to be inside with all the students and staff of Hogwarts. She needed to have a long talk with herself and she couldn't do that with all those people around.
Even when she was off duty she couldn't help but watch and worry and make sure that whoever was near her was safe. Auror training did that to you. You were always alert, always constantly vigilant for the look or movement that screamed to you "Danger!" when everyone else was oblivious. It made it hard to think about personal issues, which, she admitted to herself, was probably the main reason she went ahead and did the Training when Uncle Martin told her that she had a place in the Academy class the autumn after she left Hogwarts. Being honest tonight, aren't we?
She scuffed her booted feet in the snow that lingered along the path to the lake. It was funny how new fallen snow looked so pristine and pure. It wasn't until it started melting that you could see the trash, dead leaves, and corruption hidden underneath it. Just like me.
She stopped dead in her tracks, suddenly furious at herself. Oh, stop it Tonks! You not the one who's corrupt. You're just damaged goods. Besides you took care of the problem. It won't happen again. You've made sure of that, even if the bastard that did it is still walking around like he owns the world.
She started walking again since it was too cold to stay in one place for more than a minute or two. She could hear the ice cracking in the branches of the trees in the Forbidden Forest and the gurgle of the lake as the giant squid briefly surfaced and then retreated to its lair. She turned away from the lake and turned at a fork in the path to walk along the edge of the forest.
What was it about the middle of January that made you think about things that you normally avoided thinking about? It seemed to be the seasonal equivalent of the hours between midnight and dawn when, lying in the dark, you could bear to stare the truth in the face. Truth was much harder to look at in broad daylight and in the sunny warmth of summer. Especially when the truth is so ugly.
Some idiot Muggle had written "The truth will set you free." He didn't know what he was talking about. The truth didn't make the chains and shackles around your heart vanish. It didn't heal wounds and make the scars disappear. Somebody, she couldn't remember who, once said "Truth hurts." Now, that was something she could agree with. It hurt so much that everyday she lived a lie just so she could survive with some semblance of functionality.
But she'd been taught, and somehow still believed, that when someone loved somebody else they owed that person the truth. Of course, it was a well-known axiom that if you were truly loved, unpalatable truths wouldn't make your lover disappear over the horizon faster than a Seeker on a new Firebolt.
There's the rub. How can you know if he loves you enough to stay even after all the dirty laundry is hung out to air in plain sight of the neighbors? If he doesn't the only option is to slit your wrists up to the elbow…
"Truth hurts." Well, whoever said that should have added that love hurts just as badly. She snorted in disgust. So much for clearing her mind. She should have taken up Kingsley's offer of a bottle of Old Ogden's fire whisky and she could have gotten all maudlin in the warmth of the staff room instead of freezing out here in the ever increasing wind.
The trouble was, he was in the staff room. Somehow he always seemed to be around the corner or coming out of an unused classroom when she did her rounds.
You're just imagining things, girl. He doesn't even know you exist except as someone who is always falling over things and needing to be picked up and dusted off before he goes back to whatever it was he'd been doing before you fell all over yourself. He's never acted interested in any woman in all the time you've known him. So why do you think he's interested in you?
Because—
She started to shove the words back behind the walls in her mind where she always kept such things but the whatever-it-was urged her to say them. After all, there was no one else who would hear them except herself.
Because I want him to be interested in me.
She continued along the edge of the trees, having left the path entirely, the snow crunching under her boots.
OK, that wasn't so hard now, was it?
She sniffed the cold air. The wind had changed and was carrying the scent of something cooking—rabbit stew. Hagrid must be home in his hut for the evening. The thought of the half-giant made her smile. Last week he'd asked if she'd post a letter to Madame Maxime for him as he was too busy taking care of a new clutch of Flitter-Flatterers to leave the school. His romancing of the Headmistress of Beaubaton's was sweet.
See? If you wanted proof that there's someone for everyone, just look at them! The truth didn't ruin their relationship.
The sound of ice cracking and falling from deeper in the forest brought her thoughts and feet to a halt. She peered into the gloom under the trees, her wand in hand and ready. When she heard nothing else, she relaxed and started walking again.
Three cheers for Hagrid and Maxime. However, her situation was entirely different. She couldn't tell him the truth, much less let him actually see it.
This was getting her nowhere. She really ought to turn around and go back. Besides, it looked like it was going to start snowing again.
By concentrating on the terrain and each separate step she managed to keep the voice in the back of her head silent until she reached the doors to the castle. She'd just reached for the latch when the door was opened and golden light flooded the steps.
Surprised, she slipped and would have fallen except for the strong hand that caught her and pulled up upright against a firm body.
"Dora."
He wrapped his cloak around her and there on the threshold captured her lips with his before drawing her inside.
