Chapter Ten

The sun peeks through the boarded windows of the parlor room in Number 12 Grimmauld place. I can see the small beams dance across the floor as theymake their way to the sofa where my eyes flutter open and I think I amin one of my dreams.

Your arms are folded around me and it's the only thing that is currently keeping me from falling off of the sofa, where we're lying. Both of us. Now you can see why it feels like a dream.

Though we're not lying on the sofa like…that. (If that were the case Grimmuald place's spare bedroom would be much more comfortable). And of course you haven't exactly given up being stupidly stubborn. You've just…postponed it for a bit.

When you wake up it will be back to the usual: "I'm too old for you, I'm dangerous, I'll ruin your life"etc. The fact that I know all of your arguments by heart and haven't left yet, should give you some indication of who you're dealing with.

Though I suppose the fact that you haven't given in yet should tell me a thing or two about who I'm dealing with: A good hearted, intelligent, gentleman with major self esteem issues and a bit of a nobility complex.

I wish I could see your face. I can't turn around to look at you, because I know that the moment I do you will wake up and the dream will end. I need it to go on a little longer.

I freeze as you take in a rather sharp breath, but in the end you simply pull me a bit closer to your chest where I can feel the steady breathing of a still deep sleep.

I suppose it's foolish of me to think that you would wake so soon after the night you've just been through. I'm surprised that I'm awake after the day I spent in a worried nail biting frenzy first at my cottage in Hogsmede, then in Hogwarts (in front of Harry Potter of all people. The kid must think I've gone completely mad). And then here at Grimmauld place because I had no where else to go.

Molly knew of course. She always knows. She floo called the fire at number twelve just five minutes after I apparated. She said she had a feeling I would come here first, then she insisted on coming through to wait with me. Arthur joined us once he got off work. I suppose that was around seven o'clock. A good half hour before you…

When you came into that parlor, with your face, arms, neck, scratched and your clothes torn, soaked to the bone, I have to admit I was horrified.

I was relieved of course. I had imagined…I thought he had killed you. I always knew, or thought I knew what Greyback was capable of.

Still, I don't think I had quite prepared myself for what horrible pain he could inflict. I know you didn't speak much about it, but I could see it in your eyes. This pain delved far beyond words. You carried the type of wound that could wretch the soul from a man's body.

I know now, what pain is. I wish I didn't.

I feel the rumbling of your chest as you groan once again. Your body is squirming against mine and you give a sigh.

'Nymph-dora,' I hear you mutter as your lips smack together, and I can tell that this time, your eyes will fly open and it will be the end.

Sure enough, not a moment passes before I hear you exclaim:

'Tonks!'

Your arms move from their place around my waist and I tumble from the edge of the sofa on to the floor.

In the old days you might have apologized and given me your hand in order to help me up. But now, you look at me as though my very presence had burned you.

'What are you doing here?'

'Molly and Arthur needed to go back to the Burrow. I…we didn't think you should be alone.'

'I'm fine.'

'Yeah I can see that.'

I wish I didn't sound so bitter, echoing the words you said to me at Christmas. I keep trying to tell myself that you don't mean it really, that you're just trying to protect me. That you have to put up this barrier between us because you think it will keep me safe.

You can't see that you need this; just as much as I need you.

'I've dealt with worse on my own before.'

'I know.'

'Then why are you here?'

'Because…'

I think of finishing the sentence with 'I wanted to take care of you', but it sounds a bit condescending. And saying 'because I love you', is right out. Even if it is true. I'd rather have an argument than force you to go back into your self deprecation mode. That's the only place talk of love seems to lead.

'Because… no one should have to be in this house alone. I know I wouldn't want to.'

To my surprise you give me a half smile.

'There is something foreboding about this place even after the work the order has done on it.'

'We were lucky that mad portrait didn't wake up. Then we really would have had our hands full.'

You smile out right now, and it's nice to be able to have something resembling a normal conversation with you again.

'Were you here all day yesterday?'

'Not all day. I was at Hogsmede in the morning. I didn't come here until around five o'clock.'

'After you'd finished your Auror duties?'

'Yes,' I lie.

Telling you that I took the day off work, that I only took the road to the castle in order to ask Dumbledore if you were all right, feels a bit too close to a love confession. And that won't do either of us any good at all.

'You would have heard any news at your flat in Hogsmede. You didn't have to come here. As you said, no one would want to be in this house if they didn't have to be.'

'I said no one would want to be alone in this house. I wasn't. Molly and Arthur were here.'

'You didn't have to come at all.'

'Why are you harping on about this? Can't you accept the fact that there are people whocareabout you? People who want you to be safe?'

I'm the one who begins the argument as usual. Still, as I keep telling myself, it's your fault. Why do you have to question everything? Why can't you have simply said "thank you" like anyone else?

There is a silence. You give a wince of pain as you attempt to sit up on the sofa.

'I suppose I am not quite accustom to this sort of attention. I'm so used to dealing with these things on my own.'

You seem sad as you say this. I reach out my hand to touch your arm; to comfort you. You shirk away from me, giving me a brave sort of half smirk.

Eventually, you pull your aching limbs from the sofa cushions and delicately begin to fold the blanket. I reach up to the arm of the sofa and pull myself up from the floor.

'Molly said she would come back around noon to check on you,' I say because I can't think of anything else. 'She'll probably cook something for us then.'

I watch as you place the blanket over the back side of the sofa.

'You should have been gone by now. Won't they miss you in Hogsmede?'

'I called in sick.' I almost add "again" before I remember what I haven't told you. Instead I elaborate 'Sumpter's taking over my post.'

'You didn't have to do that.'

'Why not? I was here any way.'

You pause and then surprisingly let out a chuckle.

'We seem to be going around in circles don't we?'

'Don't blame me.' I'm only half joking.

'I don't.'

I watch as your knees seem to fold underneath you. You collapse in a sitting position on the sofa.

'Are you all right?' I ask with too much concern in my voice. I know you'll hear it. I want you to.

'Fine…I'm fine…' You attempt to wave me off as I walk over to the sofa. I put my stubbornness to good use and sit down next to you, placing my hand on your knee. You wince and jerk away.

'Your legs are still sore. You shouldn't get up for a while.'

'I have to. I need to see Dumbledore.'

'Can't it wait?'

'No. It's been two days since…Dumbledore needs to hear from me…what happened.'

You're ducking your head down and refusing to meet my eyes. As if you are ashamed. I don't know what to make of this. What did happen that night? I know you would not tell me. Even if I asked.

'Why can't you just send your patronus to him from here?'

'A patronus would not do my message justice. I need to speak with him in person.'

I should move away from you. I can hold a simple conversation while doing something productive like…I don't know…straightening up the parlor, can't I? No. Apparently I can't. I stay on the sofa, as do you.

'He might not be there. He wasn't at the castle when I…when I was patrolling yesterday.'

You look at me suspiciously for a moment. I don't know why I'm so afraid for you to guess the truth. You already know that you've affected me. What's one more piece of crumpled paper on a completely out of control blaze?

'Still, I have to take my chances.'

All the same, you stay seated on the couch and seem in no hurry to move again. I silently try to work out how best to ask my next question.

'Is…does he…know now?' I ask tentatively. Silence.

'I mean…does Greyback know that you're…one of us?'

'I'm not sure about that,' you answer evenly. 'But I do know that he won't be letting me back into the colony any time soon. Those scratches on my arm last night were eviction marks.'

'Oh. So that means you…won't be going back?' I try as hard as I can not to sound hopeful. Still I'm not sure I've done a grand job of it.

You stare at me for a moment then heave a sigh and run one hand through your matted hair.

'That's what I need to see Dumbledore about. I'm not sure whether or not he will need me back in the colony in light of…what's happened.'

'Dumbledore wouldn't send you back there. He couldn't! Not after...'

'Tonks, I am the only person with inside information on Greyback. If I'm no longer within his circle…'

'But you said that Greyback had evicted you!' I say this almost triumphantly. I've found a chink in your aged argument.

'Not entirely,' I feel my face fall and my stomach drop. It seems I began celebrating far too soon.

'Those marks were…a warning. If I return, the colony will shun me, I will live and sleep on the outskirts until…'

'Until what?'

'…Until I prove myself to them. To him.'

'What does that mean?'

You turn your head away from me. I know that I should not make you tell me. I know that I can guess the answer that you will give. But my old nature gets the better of me and I have to hear it from you.

'I will have to go on the hunt with the rest of the pack.' You say as evenly as you can. It's very difficult I can tell.

'I'll have to kill.'

Silence. I wasn't prepared for the words to be so haunting. You look back at me wearing an entirely humorless smile.

'Dumbledore wouldn't...' I hear myself choke as though I've forgotten how to breathe. 'He couldn't make you…'

'It's not about me Tonks, it's about what's best for the Order. If Dumbledore asks me…I have no choice.'

Your voice begins to break and you continue to avert your eyes. Still, something tells me you're bluffing. Perhaps not completelybut apart of you is trying to scare me. Trying to make me believe all the cock and bull about you being a 'dark creature'.

Well, I've got news for you Remus Lupin. I still won't bite.

Instead of saying this, I look at you in silence for a moment before throwing my arms around your neck. Just like I did last night.

'Tonks…Tonks, you shouldn't…' You try half heartedly to push me away. I hold on tighter and, just slightly, lean in to nuzzle your neck. This seems to break your resolve. Ah, the power of being a woman, I can't help but think as I hear you heave a sigh.

It's not long before you hesitantly move to put your arms around my shoulders. And not long after that, you pull me close to you entwining your fingers with my hair. I'm not sure how long we stay this way. I know we'll break apart eventually. We have to. But it feels nice for now.

I feel you begin to speak before I hear the words.

'Oh, how I've missed…' You cut yourself off very suddenly as tough you've very nearly said something you shouldn't.

'What've you missed?' I ask. Instead of raising my eyes, I lean in to place a light kiss along your jaw. You're posture has stiffened, your arms have moved from my hair to my shoulders, pushing me away from you. This time I don't fight it.

Your hands return to your sides and you shift away from me on the sofa.

'I have missed a lot of things. Having a roof, sleeping on something other than rock and a tattered blanket…'

'But that's not what you were going to say was it?'

You turn and give me a tight lipped smile.

'It doesn't matter.'

You move to stand up from the couch. I think of stopping you. Your legs do need rest. But I know it won't do any good. So, for now I leave it.

'Molly should be here soon. I suppose I'd best stay for lunch. But then Ihave to see Dumbledore.'

I should say something to this. You expect me to. I can see you waiting at the threshold to the door of the kitchen waiting…but my throat doesn't seem to be working properly. I can't speak. No…no, it's not that I can't speak, I just…won't. For what seems like the first time in my life, I have nothing to say.

You seem to sense my hesitation and use it to retreat into the kitchen.

I'm not quite certain who won that particular little battle in our own private war, I'm not entirely sure that I care. All of a sudden, an inspiring sort of calm has come over me. A great sense of peace, which instructs me to do only one thing.

Wait…