Wrath of Love

Word Count: 917

CHASER 3:Write about a light character committing the sin of WRATH or a dark character demonstrating the virtue of FORGIVENESS.

6. (dialogue) "Have I told you that I hate you recently?"

11. (word) risk

12. (setting) number 12, Grimmauld Place

"You have a remarkable propensity for knocking things over, Nymphadora." Remus informed her, smiling in amusement as he watched her flailing hand collide with her glass for the third time that evening. They were the only two left in the dim kitchen of Grimmauld Place, the other occupants either out on Order business or having gone to bed already.

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's Tonks! Stop calling me Nymphadora!"

Remus' eyes were sparkling with mirth as he watched the ends of her hair curl up, red-orange frustration bleeding down through the strands.

"Have I told you that I hate you recently?" She asked jokingly, punching Remus lightly on the arm.

"You do remind me quite frequently, I have to say." Remus replied, raising his glass to his lips to hide his smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

They shared a moment of comfortable, light-hearted silence, both enjoying the other's company. However, the laughter faded from Tonks' face as she drew uncharacteristically serious. Biting her lip, she said, "You know that I don't mean it, right? It was just a joke. I don't… I don't really hate you."

He smiled reassuringly at her. "Of course, I know that. I believe we've become rather good friends, despite the awful circumstances that have brought us together here." He gestured around them at the gloomy surroundings of the kitchen, grim despite every effort of Molly's to make it more homely.

However, far from being comforted, Tonks' face remained a picture of nerves. She picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of her robe as she wondered whether to risk confessing her true feelings. She was almost sure he felt the same way.

"I don't mean like that. Well, I mean, we are friends. But it's just…It's that I want more. I like you. I really like you, Remus. And I think maybe…you like me too."

She looked hopefully at him, a pink blush staining her cheeks as she waited for a response. There was a long, strained silence, Tonks waiting on tenterhooks before Remus finally spoke in a stiff voice. His face had taken on an odd mask-like quality, as if he was afraid of her seeing his true thoughts.

"You can't. You can't feel that way. It can't happen. I-I'm sorry." He pushed back from the table, the chair scraping across the hard floor. "I think I should go."

As she watched him turn to leave, the truth of his rejection finally penetrated her haze of disbelief. A sour, empty feeling in her gut propelled her up out of her own chair, to grasp at the frayed sleeve of his robe to prevent him from leaving. In her haste, the emptied bottle of Firewhiskey crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.

"Wait!" Tonks cried desperately at him. "You can't just- just say that and then leave!"

There was pain splashed across Remus' face and he avoided her demanding gaze as he spoke quietly. "I'm sorry. You don't understand what you are asking of me. Who I am…what I am, I'm…I'm a monster, Nymphadora. You're so young, so…whole. I don't want you to be tainted by this. By me."

She'd grown increasingly angry throughout his little speech, but it was the use of her hated first name that ignited the pool of wrath bubbling up in her stomach.

"DON'T. CALL. ME. NYMPHADORA!" Her cheeks flushed in her anger and her hair turned a shocking scarlet. There was not a hint of the earlier joking tone about her name.

He looked taken aback for a moment, before quickly opening his mouth to apologise. However, she cut across him angrily, preventing him from the polite response. "You've no right to tell me how to feel, Remus! I know about your condition! And I don't care! I still want to be with you anyway! I'm not some child, and you're not my mother! I can make decisions for myself! So don't you dare tell me I can't feel the way I feel about you."

She was breathing hard, teeming with wrath and hurt at his rejection. However, she realised too late that her anger had pushed him further away, and she watched his face shutter, masking the pain as he turned away.

"I'm sorry, Nym-Tonks." He corrected. "I don't want to hurt you and I understand that you're angry, but I won't change my mind on this. I can't."

The anger drained out of her as she watched him go from the kitchen, leaving nothing behind but a feeling of numbness.

Rejection sucks, she thought hollowly, sitting heavily back down in her chair.

Tears welled in her eyes as she sat in alone in the dark kitchen, as the reality of how quickly such a great evening had gone sour hit her. She regretted now that she'd gotten so angry. Maybe she could've talked him round? Maybe she could've made him see that what she felt was real, that he deserved to be happy, that he wasn't a monster?

She scrubbed furiously at her eyes with her sleeve. There was no point moping over this, her dad would say. He'd tell her to get up and go win her man. And she would.

But first, she grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from beside the fireplace, in order to Floor home. First, she needed ice-cream. And maybe to binge-watch some Muggle television with her dad.

Next time, she wouldn't let wrath get the better of her.