A/N: SHE UPDATED? WHAT? This is the real chapter 11, by the way, sorry if your alerts updated weird last time. :(

Hey, I'm working hard. :) Or maybe hardly working... Haha. Draco is back next chapter! We miss him.
(I like using cliffhangers. Lol. :P)

Chapter 11
Last Resorts and Second Chances

Ginny sighed; she knelt down to level her eyes with Tonks' blue ones—well, they were blue today. The woman seemed to have a contact and dye fetish, as far as the redhead was concerned, as her appearance changed every few weeks.

"Tonks, dear. You almost told him? What stopped you?"

The pink-haired woman blubbered for a moment, blowing her nose into another tissue before peering up at Ginny meekly.

"I – he answered his cell phone and we got interrupted and then he had go to see Professor Firenze and then you guys came and it just… ah, I just didn't have time or the courage to say it."

The woman frowned minutely and sat down beside the woman, against the wall. "It's alright… it's not like he rejected you, Tonks." She said sympathetically, squeezing one of the student's hands. "Just try again. Look, me and Harry'll leave, alright?"

"I don't know if I can…" replied the woman hoarsely, "I don't… want him to look at him with those eyes and say 'Tonks, I'm glad you feel that way about me… but I don't think I'm the right person.'" She looked up at Ginny. "I don't want to hear that, Gins, I really… really don't."

"Tonks, you'll have to tell him one day, or get over him." Ginny replied with a sigh. "They're not great alternates, but you'll have to do one of them. Pining doesn't work and it'll just make you hurt. Trust me, I know." She gave a small, crooked smile. "Cheer up."

The psychology student nodded, and smiled back, handing the pack of tissues back to her friend.

"I'm going to go into that classroom and tell Remus that I love him."

It was that exact moment – to Tonk's dismay – that the door opened, revealing a rather stunned Professor and Doctor.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sirius frowned and hiccupped, looking at his phone in disapproval.

Harry had turned his cell off.

Which means Sirius had no means of contacting him about that five hundred… The landlady wasn't getting quieter, unfortunately, and had to resorted to screeching and throwing things at him when he had gone down to ask her for an extension.

He was late for about 3 months… The five hundred dollars wouldn't cover all of it but he'd work a few nights and patch it up, and it'd definitely shut Umbridge up. Crazy lady, for God's sakes.

Walking around the mountains of dirty laundry and garbage, he returned to his recliner and grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge next to the seat. Popping the lid with his tongue (one of his many talents), Sirius started to chug, feeling the warmth and familiar buzz return to his head. Why did Harry hate alcohol? It was such a great thing.

Why did Harry hate him?

He never really figured it out – it wasn't like he was rude or anything (usually quite the opposite), and he even invited Harry to his place every so often. Not that the doctor accepted – but still, it was a nice gesture, right? And asking for the money… well, Harry was a famous doctor and had oodles of cash, so why not borrow a bit here and there? Surely five hundred wouldn't make a dent in his wallet.

He stared at the beer bottle for a long second before placing it with the many others on top of the fridge, and resorted to staring at the ceiling. The alcohol had not fully set in, he knew, because he was feeling self-pity and guilt by the truckloads here. Sighing, Sirius leaned back on the comfortable chair and shifted his glance thoughtfully to the bottles on the fridge. How could something so beautiful be the source of his problems?

Sirius sometimes thought about other things – like how he could be in his 50's and not have a decent job or a family, and why he had never planned ahead. But then again, there were things that he thought would be there forever… Like James, Regulus, or the family's business and riches. The Black Empire had disowned him when he refused to attend or even consider going overseas for university; no – he was staying right here with his friends, but it proved to be his undoing.

Everything got taken away from him at one point or another – he should just learn that. Harry'll soon hate him so much that he'll refuse to talk to him, unless he did something to change his ways.

But going sober was so complicated… and detoxing was painful. He knew firsthand, of course, through the multiple times he had tried to quit.

So he had two choices… Harry or alcohol?

It was such a hard decision too.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tonks stood up, her eyes wide with panic. Oh – shit! This was not the way she had wanted to confess!

"O-oh p-profes-um, that wasn't – well it was but, oh god I don't know, a-ah—"

Ginny was frowning, annoyed to her shoulders by the imprudence. Really – men were so stupid! She gave a small glare at Harry who smiled meekly and hopped quickly out of the way, hoping to get away from the situation before it became too awkward.

Lupin looked a little less shocked now – more thoughtful and sad than anything. The man rubbed his brow, partially in expectance and partially in vexation that this was happening now.

"Tonks, may I have a word? I'm sorry Harry and Ginny, I'd like to talk to Nymphadora in private."

Even in her panic, the bright-haired woman scowled at her first name but did not dare to speak as her professor guided her into his classroom. Harry and Ginny watched the door close with a click behind the two. There was a terse silence – the tension was almost palpable.

Finally, Ginny spoke. "Harry…"

"Hmm?"

"You're an idiot."

"What did I do?" he asked, indignant and the confused. "It wasn't my idea to open the door, you know."

Ginny scowled. "Well you knew about her feelings! You should've known she was breaking down outside, and prevented it somehow! Just a few seconds, I swear, and it would've been fine."

"I can't prevent the professor from opening his own goddamn door, Ginny!" replied Harry with sparks. He couldn't believe this. It was his fault that Tonks confessed early?

"Well you could've tried!" She shouted back, her voice cracking a little, surprising the doctor. Ginny frowned and folded her arms, appalled at her own outburst, and said more quietly, "She didn't want to confess like that…"

"I imagined so," said Harry with a shrug, "but what's done is done… They're talking right now, so we can only hope for the best…"

"Do you think he likes her in that way at all?" asked Ginny, her teeth starting to worry her lips – it was a nervous habit Harry knew quite well.

He gave a side-glance at the door. "I dunno, to be honest. He doesn't really go for looks, and I know he's concerned about that age gap. But he's got to be blind to not have noticed this before, so he has to have thought about it."

Ginny sighed, and Harry could feel her shoulders droop beside him. "I just want the best for her, Harry, she's loved Lupin for a really long time… It'll crush her if he doesn't have similar feelings."

"I know," he said quietly, "I hope the Professor knows what's riding on this."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As they entered the classroom, Lupin felt a little overwhelmed. His suspicions were true – Tonks had feelings for him – but now as he sat her down in front of his desk and looked at the woman before him, his words seemed useless.

"Tonks – " he started, unsure of how to say what he felt. He liked her, really, he did, but… there were too many things that was wrong about the relationship, too taboo, too psychologically detrimental.

"Professor – Remus," she interrupts, her tone a weak, pleading one, "if you don't… think that way about me, please just… tell me. Flat out."

Remus didn't know how to handle this, because she sounded like she was going to shatter and he doesn't want her to break into so many pieces – but he can't just reply 'Yes' and have a torrid relationship with one of his students. It wasn't something he was willing to indulge in.

"Tonks," he tried again, pulling the woman's hands into his with a small, sad smile. "truth be told – I do like you, but… I am too old, too boring and too busy to keep you completely happy – you deserve someone much better than me."

"Why would you tell me that?" whispers Tonks, her hair falling over her face as tears brimmed in her eyes. "You tell me you like me… but you can't be with me? Why, professor… why…" She crumpled in front of him, and Remus frowns, trying not to let his own sorrow show. He did not have his dilemma often – people did not usually fall for him… he was not one of those people. He pulled Tonks into his arms and even though his conscience complains – holds her while she cries on his shoulder. Tonks only cries harder, her breath coming in sharp rasps. The older man offers her a tissue sympathetically and Tonks takes it with muffled thanks, blowing her nose.

The professor patted her awkwardly – Remus could practically hear her heart breaking. It distressed him but he knew the situation was out of his hands, because no matter what, he won't break the one rule he has set for himself.

He's found out the hard way that falling in love wasn't worth it.

Remus knew with a small pang of pain that he was probably being unfair, at least, to Tonks. She didn't deserve this, and he didn't deserve what she was offering.

The woman stood up shakily – Remus rushed to steady her but she refused, pushing away his limbs with clumsy defiance. He sighed, knowing the only emotion she could be feeling now was anger; so he backed away, allowing her an exit.

Tonks took it, walking out of the classroom without a word.

Remus sighs; he wasn't sure what he said or did was right. Being a psychology teacher wasn't helping him much in this situation.

The door opens and then slams shut; he winces at the sound, and wondered how Harry and Ginny will take it. He hoped they won't think less of him with this, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it would.

The man sighed and leaned back on the chair. He stared at the ceiling, and waited.

Outside, Ginny and Harry watched in horror as Tonks exited and slammed the door, walking quickly down the hallway with no word to either Ginny or Harry. They looked each other in confusion before Harry attempted to get up, only to find Ginny stopping him.

"What – Gins, but Tonks – " he said, but the woman shook her head wearily.

"Don't." she replied quietly. "Something obviously happened, just leave Tonks alone for a bit. Just… don't, Harry."

He relented and nodded. "What about the Professor?"

Ginny shrugged, "He's an adult Harry, and a psychology professor. I think he'll be alright."

"Being a psychology teacher doesn't help him very much, Gins, especially with a girl like Tonks."

"I can see a major doesn't help," snapped the woman, replying with a little more spite than she intended. She clamped her mouth shut as Harry raised a brow and gave her a strange look, but had the grace to blush slightly.

"You alright, Ginny?"

"Yeah, sorry. Just a little stressed."

He shrugs, appeased by the answer. It made sense – but if Ginny had a real problem, he knew she'd ask him. Stress, home-sickness… they were small, but the two helped each other cope with the every-day things.

"Should we go back now? I mean… our visit was cut short by um… this."

Ginny nodded and they make their way back to the land rover. The woman still seemed a little preoccupied and she was frowning, biting her lip in thought. Harry thought it best not to disturb her, so they had a particularly speechless and silent trip back to the complex.

She slid out of the jeep and into the apartment complex without a word, leaving Harry lightly puzzled. He took a shower, feeling the virulent beads of water on his skin, fiddling the knob for the perfect temperature. He reflected on the day, which was rather packed – but not without its surprises, and on Ginny's strange behavior. Maybe it was just that time of month?

The man stretched on the bed, reviewing his schedule. His weekend was coming to an end already… it was a shame. Tomorrow… would just be relaxation. The doctor changed into comfortable slacks, lounging around and just enjoying his city, watching cars travel up and down the street and the skyscrapers dazzle outside his window.

Harry remembered drifting off to bed – he had really only intended to lie in bed and think for a while – but he felt his eyelids grow heavy with every passing minute and finally seceded to sleep.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Remus frowned, searching for his keys in one of the many pockets of his jacket, hearing the jangle within the crevices somewhere. He grumbled as he passed a group of young adults giggling, and one of them had the nerve to offer him a drink, which he politely refused. Why did the University have to be built next to a chain of bars? He didn't particularly indulge in drinking, but when he had been in University, he had a rather high alcohol tolerance so Remus was always the designated driver while James, Sirius and Peter had all been to drunk to see straight…

Finding the keys eventually, he crossed the street to the Columbia parking lot, searching for his car in the Staff Reserved area. As he approached his battered chevy, he heard a rumbling giggle behind him.

"Moony!" The voice belonged to a man – eerily familiar, and only a few called him that. The professor didn't particularly want to turn around and see who it was (he had a good idea anyways), so he continued to fiddle with his keys in the scant light, looking for the right one. Maybe he'd go away if ignored?

Not a chance of that. The giggle crescendoed and a hand gripped his shoulder. "Moony, s'it you? Hahaha…" He broke off into a fit of laughter. The professor sighed and turned around, dislodging the limb.

"Sirius." He said it wearily – obviously having expected this for a while now, but dreaded what could happen.

"Yep, thas'name." Replied the man with a grin and a wink and Remus can't help but smile slightly, but it's erased after he realizes his former friend is wandering the streets alone with a beer bottle and apparently nothing else.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with barely-masked exasperation, trying not to sound too bitter.

Sirius shrugs and looks at the bottle in his hand with unfocused eyes, but returns his gaze to Lupin. "I'unno. I think m'crazy landlady evicted me but I can't be sure…" He squinted in the air, as if staring at nothing would help his mind re-organize itself.

It doesn't though – and Sirius realizes it too and scowls.

Lupin kneaded the bridge of his nose – he knew what was going to happen. "You got evicted? I thought you were paying your rent?"

"Well ye – but Harry hasn't given me th'cash so she kicked me out…"

They both paused, looking at each other for a few awkward seconds. Remus took the few seconds to analyze his old friend. Sirius hadn't bothered with shaving or cutting his hair, it seemed, because he sported stubble and a five o'clock shadow and his black hair trailed off around his shoulder blades, sporting the occasional gray hair. He was reminiscent of a homeless man… which, ironically, was what he was at the moment.

"So uh – Rem, could I, uh, crashwichuforawhile?" He bunches the last few words together and exhales, looking hopeful. Sirius knew Remus was a kind, sympathetic person who would help an old university buddy –

"No."

"Huh – what?" sputtered Sirius. "Why not?"

"Because you're a 55 year old alcoholic that needs to depend on others for rent, food and a living." Said the professor coolly, attempting to establish a mask. It doesn't work very well, and Remus knows. Sirius was never one for masks, being one that could see through his.

Sirius frowned, stiffening a little. His giggles had disappeared quickly with the intoxication, but his words were still slurred.

"Yeah but Rem, I need help! Immagonna go sober righ'after this, 'n I have a job! C'mon Moony, help me out?"

"No, Sirius, because you're going to have to realize that people aren't waiting on your every whim." He said firmly but he felt guilty for refusing his friend, but Sirius had to learn, and he wasn't going to secede to his wishes.

"One night? Jusso I can find 'nother place to go. Or you could drive me to a shelter…"

"No, Sirius."

"Pleas-s-s-e?" He whined, looking hurt, and Remus frowned, remembering how Sirius Black looked startling akin to a shaggy dog. Padfoot, he thought with amusement. The nickname always suited him.

"Moony! Rem! ...Remus?" Sirius tried, as if saying the professor's different names could sway his decision.

"I said no," repeated Lupin. How long was this going to be? How long did he have to refuse until Sirius understood the word?

"Just t'night! C'mon Moony, what happened to you? You were n'ver like this… Just help me out once."

The psychology professor felt a headache coming on, but he was too tired to stand there and duke it out with Sirius Black. He never won in their arguments, anyways, because Padfoot was too spontaneous and ridiculous and unreasonable.

"One night." Said Remus with a resigned sigh. He just caved and he knew it. Why did it always turn out this way?

"One night," repeated Sirius with a near howl, reaching over to hug his old friend, but the university professor stopped him curtly and pointed to the bottle.

"I hope you're recycling that," he said with a tired smile, unlocking the car.

"You're a nut," replied Sirius with a pout, "but I'll do it since it's for you, Moony."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Harry woke up the next morning feeling a lot better than he had in a few days – his head was clear, there were no headaches and he didn't have a sore bone in his body. The doctor looked up and swore quietly – he had left the lights on when he drifted off – and dragged his body to the switch. Harry stood there for a few minutes, staring at his room and silently comparing it to the meager cell he'd be returning to tomorrow.

The doctor heaved a dolorous sigh and tried not to think about it.

He was just out of it, he reassured himself before brushing his teeth and hair, trying to think of what to do today. He entertained the notion of contacting Zabini again for a questionnaire, but quickly expels that idea. He 'wasn't a dog to be called on for information' (the businessman had told him with a cool tone at their luncheon) and Zabini had assured him that he would find Harry if he needed him.

It wasn't a comforting thought, really.

After pulling on a comfortable t-shirt and a new pair of slacks, he made his way to Ginny's and rapped on the door to ask if she'd be interested walking to Central Park. They did it periodically on weekends, simply because Ginny was a big fan of 'active living' and they'd started visiting the New York tourist spot ever since Harry gave up running.

There was silence – not even shuffling could be heard. Harry scowled and relented; fine, he'll just go alone… It didn't really bother him much, though – she had probably gone out or doing extra work at the clinic or something. It may have concerned him more if he didn't have other more pressing matters on his mind – Malfoy, Mattewan, Dumbledore, all those stupid little pieces of the killer's past that were lost somewhere in the psychopath's conscience were good examples.

Harry wondered vaguely about his client, his thoughts still hazy from sleep. Malfoy wasn't hard to figure out – well, he shouldn't be. There was truly nothing about the blond that was strange or out of place – maybe he was the one making it complicated? It was bizarre reasoning but in Harry's defense, he wasn't quite awake yet.

Clambering down the hallway, the doctor reasoned to himself that he did not want to be stuck with Malfoy for longer than necessary. Complicating things was not something he wanted to indulge in.

Taking himself down the elevator, the doctor decided to abandon all thoughts of jobs and obligation. Thinking too much never killed anyone, but he wasn't going to take the chance today.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A hand was hovering above the phone tentatively; a silver beard twitched as its owner frowned.

Dumbledore's azure eyes scanned his surroundings – he doesn't want to pick up the phone and call this man because no matter what he says, the dean always feels something unnatural and ominous surrounding him.

The doctor tucks away those feelings, eyes grim. He was the best, however. There was no denying that.

He punched in the numbers slowly, waiting for the customary tone to ring in his ear. The elder's eyes followed the name displayed on the LCD screen, a tiny prick of irrational fear burning a hole through his stomach.

Tom Riddle.