Hello everyone. I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Thanks to iambananas for the review. Please enjoy!
Winter had come softly this year, creeping in on cat's feet and leaving behind no tracks. The Death Eaters had not been so subtle. A recent attack on Godric's Hollow had left several well-known witches and wizards dead, including two who had graduated Hogwarts in the same year as Sirius and Remus. Sirius had not taken the news well and had retreated into his bedroom with a small stash of firewhiskey and had not been seen since. The other Order members had gone home-home to their families, to their husbands and wives and children. Mad-Eye had gone off somewhere, to a Muggle pub to loose himself in the drink.
A true Irishmen, thought Remus sadly. He had no one to go home to. More precisely, he had no home to go to. He contented himself to sitting on some moldy sofa in the dim parlor, heavy curtains drawn shut against the grim weather outside. Remus could feel grief gnawing at him, tearing apart his insides with cold teeth. After a while he could no longer bear the silent tomb of a house, so he put on his coat and went out into the frozen street.
Remus walked in a daze through the streets of London, stumbling like a drunk through icy gutters and across the white pavements until he reached a Muggle pub with a blinking neon sign. It was nearly empty at this time of night, save for a few old drunks getting pissed at one end of the bar. Remus took a seat opposite them, far from their ramblings about the good old days before the war, or perhaps it was during the war, he felt too tired and sad to care.
Robert and Mathilda Hobbler had been close friends throughout the years, supportive of Dumbledore and anti-Death Eater until the end. Robert had worked at the Daily Prophet, writing pro-Dumbledore articles, which, Remus mused, had probably alerted the Death Eaters to his existence. Mathilda had worked in the Ministry, some desk job within the Aurors' office.
"What can I get you, mate?" The bartender leaned over, rag in hand. Remus started slightly.
"Oh, ermā¦" he hardly thought that it would be appropriate to ask for firewhiskey. "A whiskey, please."
The bartender nodded, bending behind the bar and retrieving a dusty bottle and glass. He tipped a healthy amount of the golden liquid into the grimy glass and set in it front of Remus.
"Drink up, mate. It'll take your worries away."
Spoken like a true alcoholic, thought Remus, who had witnessed more than his fair share of family members drink themselves to waste. He threw caution to the winds and drank the whiskey. The drink seared his throat, not quite the same burn as firewhiskey, but one that scalded away the pain at any rate. When he set the empty glass on the bar, the faithful bartender plied him with more whiskey. This continued until Remus felt fairly tipsy and the grief that had been weighing down his heart had started to lift.
"You can't make it stop, Remus."
He started a little from his half-drunk reverie and turned around to find a young woman with mousy brown hair standing behind him, hands in her pockets.
"Who are you?" He muttered in confusion. Remus felt sure that he had never seen the girl before in her life. She fit firmly into the everyman category: short dark hair, a thin mouth and eyes that seemed sad and a little lost.
"It's Tonks."
Of course. She had changed her appearance to reflect the grief demonstrated by the rest of the Order.
"Did Molly send you?" He asked, hoping that Mrs. Weasley hadn't ordered the young woman to follow him. It was quite enough to have her constantly encouraging him to eat and commenting on his thin appearance. But Tonks shook her head.
"I wanted to make sure you were alright. You know, that you didn't do anything stupid."
A tiny flame of anger flared within him. Remus was not a fool, unlike James and Sirius he refused to give into his impulses.
"I don't need to be babysat," he snapped. "I'm not going to throw myself off a bridge."
Far from appearing hurt, Tonks simply shrugged and slid onto the stool next to him. Her face was mild, though not without pain and when she spoke her voice was calm.
"I didn't think you would. Sirius always said that you were theā¦levelheaded one."
Remus flashed back to his schooldays and the rest of the Marauders mocking his 'prudish' behavior. Any road, he wouldn't end up floating in the river or drinking himself senseless in some back ally.
"If you're going to get pissed, might as well be somewhere with a roof," Tonks said, breaking the silence. Remus eyed the whiskey bottle before him and took a long pull at it. The liquor burned his throat, bringing tears to his eyes.
"It won't take away the pain, you know." Tonks drew a light circle in the ring of condensation that the bottle had left on the damp bar. "Did you know them well?"
Remus nodded. He was remembering the cloudy walks down the Herbology greenhouses with both of the future Hobblers. Mathilda had been excellent at Potions, and while never on the same level as Severus or Lily, the cheerful witch had always been able to offer help to the Marauders.
"Yes. They were good people. Didn't deserve it."
"Does anyone really?" Tonks inquired mildly. Remus shook his head.
"Death Eaters. Voldemort."
Tonks gently pried the bottle from his fingers and took a light pull of whiskey before replacing it on the bar.
"I think you've had enough," she murmured, taking his hand. And Remus found that he did not at all mind being lead away by her, and when they walked out into the icy night, he found that the small heat of her fingers on his was strangly comforting.
She tucked herself under his arm, pressing her thin frame against him.
"It will all be alright, Remus."
And there, in the cold night illuminated by the street-lamps, he knew that somehow, it would be.
Sorry for the short chapter. I promise to make the next one a little longer.
