Chapter 9
House on Fire
All muggle born. She thought.
Her mind had given way to dreams about exploding bridges and hoards of dead bodies. The carnage began to change the longer Tonks slept and soon it included all forms of life—all kind s of humans ranging from wizards to muggles and then encompassing mammals, birds and fish. The lowliest of creatures could not escape the coming doom that seemed just beyond the horizon. Images of fish dragged from their watery homes and left to suffocate on a hot sidewalk filled her mind. Birds were being ripped from the sky, horses were being trampled, spines were shattered, joints were smashed and skulls splintered under great weight. The pictures in her mind moved quickly and made their meaning plane: in the coming war, things would never be the same. War was not something that was supposed to happen. It was unnatural and its repercussions would pull the world out of alignment.
She woke up in a cold sweat, having pulled her whole body tightly into a ball and held onto anything within reach distance. Her fingers ached from gripping the sheets and slowly Tonks let them loose and attempted to flex them; it felt her joints had not stretched in years. It was then she turned her attention to the other side of bed and found it empty. Tonks searched through her memory and vaguely remembered Remus kissing her and telling her he had to leave but just for a while. It had been nearly two in the afternoon when he had left and while vacations were a lovely excursion from the regular routine, Tonks knew the call of duty always sounded.
She tried to close her eyes but visions of brain chunks or headless bodies swarmed in to greet her. So instead, she laid on her back for a long while, just staring at the ceiling. For an hour or two she just laid there, occasionally thinking about what she would do if she had the strength to get up or how lovely it would be to find sleep without nightmares.
All Muggle born. Tonks thought. Time crept by and slowly sleep deprivation had driven the demons away. She slept dreamlessly.
It was dark when she awoke and by that time hunger was now working away at Tonks. She drowsily rose and went to the kitchen. She made a simple dinner of salad and chicken but her mind still refused to fight off what she had seen. War was a word that had slipped through the mouths of millions of people but its meaning had gotten lost along the way. Now Tonks felt as though she had slipped into its grasps and seen the damages it could do. There are always casualties in war but just whose head is put on the chopping block? Tonks could see a field of faceless bodies but what if in the midst of those bodies lay those most dear to her? The war that Moody had been spouting about for so long was finally coming home. A flood Death Eaters were on the loose and were busy hunting all that Tonks loved. Again she tried to count out all the muggle borns she knew.
Her father. Poor Ted. Tonks pictured a giant box somewhere—a place she could put her father as to protect him. It could have a bed and a sink and toilet. It would have everything he'd need and she'd bury her father and check on him often. She'd let him come out when the cost was clear and all was over. Tonks then had to stop and really think about her father—a heftily built man who, while somewhat afraid of confrontation, would not easily sit aside and watch the war play out.
A few friends passed through Tonks' mind as well. Some good friends from work and a few from school. If she was put to it, who could she get along without? Such an idea was heinous to think of—putting a price or worth on someone. But in time the truth crept into Tonks' mind; faced with the choice between saving her father or Daisy Dallit (an old friend from her second year at Hogwarts), Ted came first. There were priorities in the end. The sad part was that if Tonks was standing in the fire and had enough time to grab one person, she would reach for those dearest to her first. She would have to. It was instinct. To hear anyone scream was horrible but this was her father she was talking about…her beloved even.
Shaken a bit, Tonks tried to keep her mind busy. She ran about the kitchen and made more dinner though she was not in the least hungry. The food began to pile up and soon she was digging out long lost doggy bags Andromeda had given her months ago for some unknown reason. Tonks began filling the bags with helping after helping of food. She cooked up some more of the chicken and then mashed potatoes. She baked a few dozen cookies. Molly had sent along a few jars of jam some weeks back and so Tonks dug those out and made a heaping bunch of jam sandwiches. Soon, the bags were filled with food. But Tonks was still anxious. She busied herself then with planning who would get all these bags of treats.
Many people gave Tonks odd looks as she appeared on their doorstep with doggy bags of food. Gallian gave the oddest look of all, "You know it's nearly eight at night," he said, "I've eaten dinner already."
"Everyone can do with some food!" Tonks smiled weakly before heading over to her parents' house.
"You made us food?" Andromeda seemed shocked as she accepted the doggy bag.
"Got bored I guess."
Andromeda pushed the food back into her daughter's arms, "Well, thank you, Nymphadora, but you're living on your own now. You need the food more than we do."
"But I want you to have it," Tonks shoved the bag back.
"We have plenty!" her mother pushed back. Then an idea struck her. She stared Tonks up and down, "What did you do to it?"
Tonks laughed, "You think I did something to it! I just made a bunch of food…and here you are! Enjoy! It means I love you!"
Andromeda was about to cut in when her husband's voice from far within the house cut her off, "Just accept the food! You know how she is!"
The last place on her list to visit was Grimmauld Place. She knocked quietly and was let in by Sirius who (not surprisingly) was wide awake despite it being nearly ten at night.
"To what do I owe the invitation?" he asked, giving Tonks another of his famous winks.
She held up the overstuffed doggy bag, "I got a bit bored today and made some food. Too much. I've been playing delivery woman for some two hours now."
"All well and good," Sirius said, accepting the bag and taking a peek inside, "Peanut butter cookies. How did you know they were my favorite?"
"Are they?"
Sirius reached inside and stole a handful of the cookies but ignored the question. Still digging, his face drooped a bit and he looked up at Tonks, almost disappointed, "No chocolate? Not even a chocolate chip cookie. How do you expect to be Mrs. Remus Lupin one day when you can't even make a good chocolate cookie?"
Tonks smiled at him, "You know he carries chocolate with him because of demeantors and-"
"Bullshit!" Sirius yelled out, stuffing more cookies into his mouth, "…he carries chocolate with him because he's addicted. How many dementors do you think he runs into on a daily basis?"
"You know it's not just dementors," Tonks said, "Rubbing chocolate on unicorn bites can help in the swelling."
Rolling his eyes, Sirius chuckled, "Enough of that. I suppose I shouldn't speak ill of the dead."
"Dead?"
Pointing to the narrow stairs, Sirius said, "He must be dead. Or something. Tired at least. Now that I think of it, he did come home right late this morning. Must have been with someone..." his sly eyes landed on Tonks for a moment, "I thought he could tame a unicorn. Guess not. Anyway, haven't gotten a word out of him all day. He won't eat either. He just sits up in his room."
Tonks' brow furrowed. This didn't sound like simply fatigue to her. This seemed like right out depression. With yet another sly wink from Sirius, she made her way up the stairs to Remus' room. She knocked and when no answer came, she simply let herself in.
Remus was in bed now, sitting up on top of the covers with a book but his gaze completely missed the pages. He looked worse than tired and Tonks quickly guessed he hadn't gotten any sleep even with the full moon and everything that had happened yesterday and that morning. Remus didn't even flinch when the door opened and Tonks walked in. She had to call out his name before he fell out of his shocked appearance.
"Dora…" he attempted to smile.
"Hello, my loveliness," Tonks cooed, sitting on the bed beside him, "Is everything okay?"
The effort to appear happy was there but it was all too obvious how fake it was. Remus couldn't even get words out; he merely nodded.
"You're not very convincing," Tonks said, reaching for his hand, "Sirius says…he says you haven't eaten anything today."
"Just tired," Remus shrugged, "You may remember what went on this morning."
"I remember lots of touching and kissing," Tonks knew he was trying to be sly and romantic—try to get off the subject and talk about lovely things. Like that morning when he had been relaxed and comfortable enough to say what he had wanted. When he had been smooth and sweet—not worn and fatigued like he was now. It was all different now; there was something Remus knew that was keeping him from being happy like he had been.
Still he reached his hand out and touched Tonks' neck as if trying to resurrect that morning.
"What's wrong?" she repeated herself.
The question was just enough of something to stop Remus from pretending or perhaps he knew Tonks enough to know she wouldn't fall for his façade. His hands fell away from her and he looked toward the far dresser. Tonks' eyes followed his gaze where she found a single envelope lying amongst Remus' few possessions. She stood and went for it. All there was inside was a single sheet of paper that read five words: werewolves don't make good lovers.
Anger was the obvious thing to go to. A flood of it filled Tonks before the fear set in—she thought about that morning and her bedroom and the thing she had let Remus do. The ideas of people watching them swept in. Peeping Toms. Standing on tiptoes to see into windows and then run home to write nasty letters.
A long while went by with Tonks just staring at the paper before Remus said, "I found it in my coat pocket while I was out at Knockturn Alley this morning. I think someone slipped in my pocket while I wasn't looking."
Tonks turned with the paper still in her hands, "Scrimgeour?"
Remus' face was not scared like it was when she had first come in. He didn't have to pretend anymore and (like Tonks) his emotions fled back to anger. His features were hard and fixed and it appeared he was going to burst—explode into fury and maybe go into a speech about the injustice of it all. Who was watching them? Was someone watching them? Was this Scrimgeour? Or was this just someone who detested wolves? Tonks watched Remus rise to his feet and waited for some brave words to be spoken. But despite his determined look, all he said was, "You're not safe."
She faltered, "I'm not safe? What the hell are you talking about? I'm not the one getting letters. You're the one that's not safe."
"But they're talking about you," Remus said, suddenly pacing once again, "They're talking about you and me. I've been a werewolf nearly all my life but for the first time I'm a wolf with a…a girl. A perfectly innocent and whole girl. They don't like it."
"Who doesn't like it?" Tonks yelled, "What are you talking about?"
"Everyone," he continued to pace, "No one likes it. What we're doing."
"Well, unfortunately for them, I don't give a damn what they think," Tonks tried to think quickly, "Scrimgeour," she finally said, "Scrimgeour has been laying off on us and now he's back on this whole Blasamore thing. He's trying to scare you."
Remus smiled a bit, "He's doing a good job at it. But it's not just Scrimgeour who has a problem with me-"
"Who else does? Who else would send you nasty notes?"
"Anyone who knows I'm a werewolf," Remus said, very matter of fact, "You don't understand the way these people work, Dora. I'm…I'm a monster. To them I am at least. They see you and me and they're trying to scare me and spook me and…"
Tonks was having trouble watching Remus continue in this frantic pacing. She pulled at his hand and led him to the bed where she forced him to sit, "Then we just need to show them that we're not scared or spooked."
"You're in danger," he said.
Rolling her eyes, Tonks went on, "You worry about yourself and I'll worry about me," she sat down beside him, "You're sure this isn't just some…some sick joke…I mean…Sirius?"
She thought for a second he'd be angry with such a suggestion but to Tonks' great surprise, Remus merely shook his head, "No. He wouldn't do that. I trust him. He has an odd sense of humor at times but…no…"
It seems perhaps the idea might have slipped past Remus as well.
"We just need to figure out if it's Scrimgeour," Tonks said, "If it is, then…then we have a problem because…he's a problem I guess. But if it's not…then it's just some dumb git who we shouldn't worry about."
Remus turned his whole attention back to Tonks, "You're in danger," he repeated himself, "You've never had a death threat, have you? You just…you don't know what these people are capable of."
The full impact of it all hit Tonks then. It wasn't just the fact she had no idea who his parents were; there was a score of other things she had no idea of about Remus. Death threats? What had given Remus this frantic pace in his walk now and had caused his hands to shake as they were now. She was reminded of the time she saw him crying over Blasamore's wolf heads. He sat beside her now, filled with stories she had never heard of, stories that had been too sad or gruesome to be told.
Tonks worked her hand into Remus' fist and held on tightly, "Who…who sent you death threats?"
Remus' hand, now alleviated from its fist, laid limp within Tonks grasp. He took a breath, attempting to pull himself together again and said, "I'm a werewolf, Dora. People want me dead. And you? You're just as much a werewolf being with me. To them at least. What would a perfectly healthy and normal witch be doing with a werewolf? When people like this come along…" his eyes fell to the letter that was still in Tonks' grip, "…when people like this show up and…you just have to go."
"Go?" Tonks asked, "Go where?"
"Away," he breathed, "Away. For a while. Sometimes forever. Lived up in Ireland for a while. I was told they were more welcoming and then I…I crossed paths with the wrong man. And I left. Never been back since."
Tonks stopped gripping Remus' hand, trying to figure out what he was saying, "You're…you're…leaving?"
He shook his head, "No. I mean…I should…but I can't…I just…" Remus rose again and started his pacing, "I don't know what to do."
"It could just be Scrimgeour," Tonks tried again.
"And if it's not?"
"You forget you have the Order on your side," Tonks attempted at smiling, "Sirius is quite a fighter and I'm not too bad with a wand myself as you might remember."
But Remus didn't brighten up at this. His head continued to hang and still, he went on pacing. If anything, this news brought him even farther down. Remus stopped at the dresser and leaned against it before deciding to address Tonks, "You're far too trusting, Dora," he said, "The Order…is full of good people. They are dedicated to fighting Death Eaters but they're not all…dedicated to werewolf activism as you might think."
"So Dumbledore will make them!" Tonks was creating an angry fist now, crumbling the note in her hand. When none of this made Remus talk, she said, "Where would you go? Back to the wolves? Just away? To separate yourself? How much safer are you going to be out there by yourself?"
"I don't want to go anywhere but-"
"But what, Remus?" Tonks demanded, "You're always throwing yourself into some death trap. Over what? Scrimgeour's stupid talk and a stupid letter? Please tell me you're not really thinking of leaving. Have you told Sirius any of this?"
Now Remus was rolling his eyes, "And what would Sirius have to say about this?"
"He'd probably tell you you're an idiot if you leave," she stared him down hard, "Please tell me you're not going. Wait. Just wait. It could just be Scrimgeour."
He couldn't meet her eyes when he said, "I usually just go."
"Well, you didn't have Sirius for all those years and you didn't have me," Tonks huffed, "And we won't let you go. You can't just run away like that."
Without meaning to, Tonks had set something on fire inside of Remus. A wave of something broke out and he was pushing himself off the dresser to stand at full height. He stared intently at her and said the words very clearly, even forcefully, "I don't run away. I never run away."
Tonks raised an eyebrow, "I just mean you just-"
"No," Remus said harshly, "I don't run away. You can't say I run away because I don't. I have never run away."
Blinking, Tonks had no idea what to say, "I…I didn't mean…I just thought…"
But Remus was walking towards the door and was gone before she could think of what to do. The heavy sound of his angry footsteps trailed up to his room where Tonks still stood there, a bit afraid of what she had just seen. Below she heard Sirius remark about Remus finally being out of bed but heard no reply from her beloved. Quickly, she collected herself and realized the letter was still in her gripped hand. Part of her wanted to tear it up but instead Tonks laid it back inside its enveloped and left it on the dresser before following in Remus' wake.
When she made her way to the kitchen, he and Sirius were at the table, busily eating but Remus still had a look of dislike smeared across his face. Tonks wondered recklessly what she had said to upset him so. She attempted to sit and eat something with the two and while Remus did perk up a bit, there was still a very distant air about him. They shared a loose hand squeeze before Tonks said her good byes, insisting it was late and she was tired.
Their late dinner passed mirthlessly before Sirius excused himself to another round of torturing Kreacher. He had attempted to pick at Remus for what was bothering him but he quickly learned that Remus simply wasn't giving.
The next day, Remus was in this mood again. Now instead of being cooped up in his room, he sat in the kitchen. He kept his one hand in a pocket, desperately holding the box, as if his life depended on it and in a way, Remus felt it did. His mind ticked away at what he could do if he just pawned the box off or sold it away to someone else. Sitting at the table now, Remus was bitter with filled with an anger he didn't let show too often. But years and years of picking had made Remus sore and (despite his desperate attempts to hide it) bitter at times. It was a red eyed beast that lurked within the pit of Remus' stomach and liked to remind him of just how unfair life had been to him.
Still he sat there and continued to hold onto the box as if throwing it away for some coins meant throwing away what it meant. It was just a box with just a simple treasure inside. It didn't really mean anything. But now as he battled his own rage and resentment, Remus felt that little box (and all its possibilities) meant the world.
Thoughts were cut short then though when from the fireplace came a small voice.
"Sirius…?"
Remus turned to the fireplace where a small patch of green flames had erupted and there in the middle of them was the face of Harry Potter.
