A/N: The little Bowtruckle is really growing on me. Though I technically gave it my Bowtruckle's name that I have at home here in my writing office, I regret nothing lol. Here in this chapter was kind of start to see a slightly less moody version of Remus and hopefully a bit of a softer side.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Somehow, Remus could not shake the feeling the look of cautious apprehension and nervousness that the young witch was currently shooting his way, was all his fault. He had no idea what to do in order to help Nymphadora, and if he wouldn't have spent so much time in St. Mungo's cafeteria for their Healers, fretting over what she might like to eat for breakfast, considering she'd eaten nothing the night before, then he might have been able to better prevent…this.
For how had a Bowtruckle gotten into her room? To the best of his knowledge, pets were not permitted within St. Mungo's. He could have sworn he heard voices coming from the other side of this door. Had someone managed to sneak past the security measures while he'd been gone and see her?
Lupin furrowed his brows into a frown, taking note of her terrified face. He saw the very blood drain from her face, making the young witch even paler.
Remus marveled at how Nymphadora could be so timid and afraid at the sight of him and noticed the hint of unease in her voice as she softly spoke up.
"I—I thought that…you were downstairs," she whispered in a voice that was barely audible, and he would have missed it had he not been hanging onto her every word. "But…I am…grateful to see you this morning, Lupin. I...I am...glad you came," she whispered through gritted teeth, every word sounding like it was causing her great pain just to speak, and suddenly, Remus felt guilty.
He should not be here. He should leave, allow her to rest, and yet...somehow, he felt compelled to stay just right where he was.
Lupin could hear the young witch's spasmodic breathing, and his eyes widened just slightly at hearing his surname pour unprompted from her lips.
He could not deny that it sounded succulent, for her voice was soft, reserved, shy around him, almost, though she had no reason to be nervous.
Remus was not at all prepared for the sight that met his eyes the minute he crossed the threshold into Nymphadora Tonks's private room in St. Mungo's, as his gaze drifted upwards and came to rest on the small Bowtruckle on her hand. "H—how did you happen to come across a Bowtruckle, Tonks? Animals aren't allowed in here."
He watched with a scrutinizing gaze as a light pink blush speckled along her cheeks, flushing them with color, returning a little bit of color to her face.
"I… he's my…my friend," Tonks whispered, sounding suddenly ashamed. "He…he needs me. Ptelea has…attachment issues, see, and has taken a liking to me, I'm afraid. I could not leave him in the care of Dumbledore, Remus."
Remus felt his shoulders slump in relief. It must have been Albus that she was talking to then.
"You…you talked to him? Or was that the Bowtruckle?"
Tonks bit the inside wall of her cheek, hoping that her eyes did not betray her sudden fear at Remus finding out that Snape had just been in her room uninvited, for if he were to learn of their conversation, the man would probably instinctively go into the same pattern of behavior he exhibited last night, a fierce, and in her mind, unnecessary possessive protectiveness for her.
One glance up at Remus Lupin was more than enough.
No. I can't. "I—yes," she answered, perhaps a little too quickly. "Dumbledore…"
Remus narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows, feeling certain, judging by her sudden nervous demeanor that Miss Tonks was hiding something, though he would be the first to admit that if he were to try to press her for an answer, the results would be disastrous, given her emotionally fragile state.
Though his partner did not appear to want to meet his questioning gaze, for her skittish hauntingly beautiful gray eyes darted to the left and right, to anywhere but at Remus in a sudden panic. Remus furrowed his brows into a frown as he realized the wound near her right collarbone had reopened.
"You're bleeding," he pointed out by way of further introduction. He tried his best to mask the concern that he was sure was evident on his features.
"Mmm?" Tonks blinked owlishly at her partner before glancing down, and she felt her face drain of color. Damn, she thought, locking her jaw in anger. It must have happened when Snape was…his fingers must have brushed against the cut I got from the tree from last night, she pondered and frowned.
The marking was crude, just barely little more than a slash mark, grotesque and had started to smell, though for the moment, Tonks did not seem concerned, at least not until he set the tray of food on the nearby side table closest to the door.
"I—I didn't know what you'd like to eat in case you might be hungry when you woke this morning, so I brought…never mind, but you're hurt," Remus protested, and Tonks blinked owlishly at the young wizard as the man shifted the tray of medical supplies under one arm and closed off the gap of space, moving to occupy the very same chair that Severus Snape had just sat in.
Lupin could tell by the way Nymphadora Tonks's body instinctively flinched as he reached out a slightly shaking hand to inspect the wound on her collarbone, that the young Auror thought that he would try to hurt her now.
A tiny noise reached his eardrums and he perked up at the unusual noise and sat up in his chair and his gaze drifted to the top of his own hand as he gingerly lowered it, stunned, blinking at what was happening, at a complete loss for words and how to respond to what was currently transpiring right now.
"I…." Remus stammered, his voice trailing off as he gingerly lifted his hand to study it, for Tonks's mysteriously-appearing Bowtruckle had taken the liberty of hopping onto his palm and was glowering at him with narrowed, beady black eyes.
He stared, eyes widening in shock as the fiery little creature stuck out its tongue and blew a raspberry at him, to which elicited a smirk from Tonks. He felt as though he could do nothing but gawk at the Bowtruckle.
"Ptelea, be nice to Remus. He's my new partner. He's not so bad, are you?" she scolded, chastising the minuscule creature as she held out her index finger, and for just a brief moment, the skin of her finger brushed against his palm and it felt as fire, her fingertips leaving sparks of flame in their wake, and Remus was not even aware he'd drawn in a hissed breath and held it, surprised by the sudden, though not entirely unwanted contact. It felt…rather nice.
As Tonks silently held out her hand and rested it against Lupin's, creating a sort of barrier to allow Ptelea to seamlessly walk across Remus's hand to hers.
And every bit of Lupin protested violently when she unexpectedly drew her finger away, to place the little Bowtruckle on her shoulder, where the little creature continued to eye Remus with no small amount of distrust in its eyes.
This is…new. I don't think you've ever had a Bowtruckle dislike you, James's voice offered from the recesses of his mind. Padfoot sounded like he was fighting back his urge to laugh, and he could have sworn he heard Lily giggle.
Oh, but I think it's rather sweet, isn't it, Rem? Maybe Ptelea is your chance, Remus. If you can get the Bowtruckle to like you well enough, then maybe Miss Tonks will too. It's worth a shot, it can't hurt to try, Remus…
Remus exhaled a shaking breath through his nose. As usual, Lily was right, though James was right in this was the first encounter he could honestly say that he'd had with a Bowtruckle where the creature did not like him.
A breath ago he was but almost in heaven, where he felt apathetic with all the hurt and traumas that had been hurting and haunting his heart, and now this foreign feeling of warmth beginning to spread to the confines of his chest was about to abandon him again. Not if he could help it. Remus let out a sigh.
"Does he blow raspberries at everyone he meets?" He could not help but ask, nor did he bother to stifle the light little chuckle that escaped his lips.
"Only the people he doesn't like. He—he doesn't take kindly to strangers, but once he warms up to you, he likes you just fine. He'll like you well enough, just give him a bit of time, few days, and he'll come around. He hated Snape, but I hope with you he'll behave himself, eventually, as long as you give him no reason to dislike you. He's quite protective of me, you know," she offered, her lips turning up in a small half-smile.
Tonks smiled. Perhaps the first real, genuine smile he had seen in the short few precious hours of knowing his new partner, and he could not help but think of how that smile of hers was the prettiest thing he'd seen in a while. It extended into her gray eyes and deep into her soul.
The way her lips lifted upward. The way her one dimple tended to crinkle just slightly. The way her teeth were perfectly aligned.
The warm glow her brief moment of happiness gave off that briefly transported Remus back to a time when he was the happiest, and he was traversing the Hogwarts grounds with James, Sirius, Lily, and Peter, and he could not shake the sense of how she smelled of autumn from his nostrils, and nor did Lupin want to. Tonks smelled of pinewood and eucalyptus, of honeysuckle, of the grass, everything that nature had to offer.
It was only when the scent of the forest faded from his nostrils, and the thick coppery scent of the crimson blood from her wound at her collarbone reminded Remus that Tonks had somehow managed to re-injure herself. He blinked and blushed in embarrassment, annoyed with himself for having been caught so rudely staring at her smile as he had. What was wrong with him?
How could he have been so selfish? Here she was, in dire need of medical attention, and he was lost staring at her smile and into those haunting gray orbs of hers that sucked him in. He cursed himself internally and ground his teeth in a rare moment of agitation.
"Allow me to see the wound, Tonks. Please," he said. Though his voice was soft, there was a harsh curtness to it. "Let me help you. I'm your partner."
Tonks flinched at the hardened edges in his tone, and it didn't take a genius to know that he was still on edge over the events that transpired last night, and she wondered if it was at all possible for his soft voice to become any quieter? She guessed that it must have because that's exactly how he sounded.
So far, in their initial interactions with one another, now that the end of the fifth day of his circle was ended, he seemed much more relaxed than he had last night, and now was quickly proving himself to be a soft-spoken person around her. Nervous, a bit shy and reserved, and he enjoyed looking at her.
She supposed that the last observation should have raised a red flag in the back of her mind, but for whatever unfamiliar reason unknown to her, it didn't.
More so than Remus Lupin seemed to enjoy talking, which Tonks secretly thought a shame, for his voice was smooth, rich, and melodious.
The kind of voice a man ought to have, she thought, biting her bottom lip, and sticking it out in a slight pout.
Though right now, as she lifted up her good arm not currently bound in the arm sling while her previously Splinched arm healed itself, Tonks didn't want to let Remus anywhere near her re-opened wound on her collarbone, a hand clasped over the slash markings, the flesh grotesque and blood once again, as it had last night, seeped through her digits.
"No, Lupin," Tonks heard herself whisper hoarsely. "I—it's fine, really. It's not as bad as it looks," the young witch added offhandedly, and bit the wall of her cheek to still her cry of pained agony. Just barely succeeding, and she flinched as she felt the little pattering's of Ptelea as her pet Bowtruckle moved to stand protectively on her left shoulder and blew another raspberry at Remus.
"Your hand," he murmured lowly, his tone shifting to one of concern for the moment rather than annoyance, for which Tonks was a little relieved.
"Mmm?" Tonks managed to mutter under her breath, and she glanced down at her wand hand, which trembled uncontrollably. She flushed and promptly turned her head to the left, looking away. "Oh," she stammered, feeling the heat creep to her cheeks. "I—it's my wand hand, they…they think that I've suffered some form of—of nerve damage or something when I…fell. I don't know if it...if it will ever go back the way that it was. The...the Healer, he said that...that I might shake every now and again for the rest of my life."
Her voice cracked and Remus could tell she was blinking back tears.
The tremors in her hand were almost uncontrollable as it shook maddeningly, and Remus could tell it caused Nymphadora no small amount of pain as she struggled to curl her fingers in a fist to attempt to stop it happening.
Remus was loathed to hear the faltering crack and dip in the young witch's voice, and he could tell that fiery spasms of pain were jolting up her hand, judging by the way they shook uncontrollably. "Are you all right?"
Tonks blinked. His voice was soft, kind, and laced to the brim with concern. For her. "I…no," she whispered, hating hearing how her voice shook as she blinked back briny tears. She lifted her trembling hand at eye-level to better study the tremors as another spasm wracked her entire body, shaking it.
"But you will be. There are…exercises that you can try. Rehabilitation that we can try. You'll be lifting your wand again in no time, Tonks. I promise. I will even help you. Let me," he reassured her softly, hoping that his voice did not betray his true emotions, for he did not think he could bear to see his new partner shed tears, as a single tear escaped her left lid, rolling down her cheek.
Remus quickly looked away and pretended that he had not noticed it, though he had seen the anguish in the young pink-haired witch's glistening gray orbs, and he could not seem to stop the small sigh of frustration as he dared to scoot his chair a fraction of an inch closer towards the young woman's bed.
Though he hesitated in his movements, ignoring Ptelea the Bowtruckle's little squeaks of protests as it hopped on top of his hand and began jumping up and down, tugging on his fingers in protest, as though it thought it could stop him. Remus smiled at the little creature's fierce and unwavering loyalty to her.
"Ptelea, enough," scolded Tonks, scrunching her nose in an adorable little pout that sent a swell of warmth through Lupin's chest inexplicably, and he felt himself smile at the Bowtruckle's antics towards him. He'd never seen anything like it, as she knelt her head slightly as she scrutinized the Bowtruckle's attempted aggressive behavior. "This sort of behavior is beneath you. Cut it out! Ptelea…Remus isn't going to bully you, now come on…stop this!"
Ptelea responded in kind to his owner's scolding by blowing a raspberry at Tonks, which earned a snort from Tonks and a soft, bemused smile from Lupin.
"He must like you a lot to be so protective of you," Remus offered, not knowing that, at the time, he was not exactly talking about her Bowtruckle.
Lupin offered the pink-haired young witch a soft smile and gingerly held out his hand as steadily as he could to transport the Bowtruckle back to Tonks.
He chuckled to himself as the little creature hopped up onto his partner's head and seemed to burrow and nestle itself within her thick pink pixie cut, though that did not stop Ptelea from poking his head out, a shock of vibrant green against deep magenta pink, narrowing its eyes, and blowing a raspberry.
"It really does care for you, doesn't it? I don't think I've ever seen a more loyal Bowtruckle so attached to another human being before. It's…truly something," he confessed, reaching up a hand to scratch an itch behind his ear.
Tonks rested her head back against her two fluffed up pillows in surprise, not sure how to place the present expression that was etched on Lupin's face.
A look of utter amusement intermingled with something that she could only describe as admiration, though whether that was for her or her Bowtruckle, Tonks couldn't say. Right now, however, her mind was on other things, such as the darkening look in Remus Lupin's kind brown eyes as he scooted his chair even closer, his hand outstretched, heading for her collarbone.
"He—he does," Tonks whispered faintly, shirking away from his touch, and she furrowed her brows in a frown and scooted towards the other side of her bed in a sudden frenzied panic as Lupin took advantage of the opportunity to attempt to scoot a little bit closer with his chair to better tend to her wound on her collarbone. "Wh—what do you think you're doing, Lupin? Stay away from me, I—I don't want you touching it, it's fine, I—if you touch it, then you'll only make it bleed worse!" Tonks yelled, hating hearing how her voice broke, how it was fearful, and tinged with a touch of sadness.
She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat and her tongue felt dry. Remus said nothing in response to her desperate plea, which only reconfirmed her suspicions that she had, perhaps, just now crossed some invisible line with Lupin just now by wanting him to keep his distance and not tend to her injury.
As she dared to meet Lupin's gaze, the coals in her eyes smoked, added with fuel, as she knew, somewhat ashamed, that she didn't want him touching it. When Remus finally spoke to her, his tone was not accusing, but awestruck.
"Your eyes," he breathed. "They're…" Lupin paused, seeming to struggle for a moment to find his words. "Gray, and full of heat," he said softly.
Tonks wiggled a brow in his general direction, wondering if his off-handed remark was just a ploy to distract her so he'd catch her off-guard.
Well. It worked. But not a second time. Lupin's own eyes seemed to dip into hers, his hand outstretched towards her collarbone only slightly lowered.
"Mmm." Tonks's frown deepened, and she felt the Bowtruckle dare to poke his head out again from underneath a lock of her hair. "Hate to break it to you, Shakespeare, but smoke isn't full of heat. It's an effect of heat, Lupin," Tonks corrected, yet it was hard to take his bitter tone seriously after his quip.
"That works too." Remus offered her a small, half-smile that reached his brown eyes. "They have a tendency to get darker, grayer when you're angry."
Tonks scowled and pursed her lips into a thin line. "Like you would notice," she snapped, feeling her defenses rise.
This was just a trick. It had to be. What else could it be? He was only talking to her right now, so she'd lower her guard and he'd treat her wound.
Remus lifted his gaze just slightly and met her gaze. "Like I wouldn't," he retorted coldly, somewhat dismissively, though he did not avert his gaze at all.
Tonks's frown only deepened at her new partner's comment, bristling as he resumed reaching to try to inspect the gash on her collarbone. It hurt as hell.
But that didn't mean she wanted him touching it. Tonks growled and bared her teeth in a wild frenzy, and reached for the nearest thing on the nightstand by her bed on the opposite side that she could reach to entice the man to keep his distance, the one hand not bound in her arm sling clutching onto her collarbone in a futile attempt to keep blood from dripping on the bed.
Desperately, she reached for the little vial that Severus Snape had left her. There were three of them, and she reached for the one closest to her grasping palm, and as she drew back her arm and hefted it as far as she could, it sailed against the room and cracked against the white wall, and Remus let out a growl as he felt her palm smack against his arm as he rose from his chair and strode towards her, a look of utter annoyance now on his handsome, lined features.
Remus's light brown eyes had turned into darkened slits, and he towered over the young pink-haired witch as he moved to the other side of her bed, closing off the gap of space in between the two of them, grabbing her wrist.
Yet, Lupin froze, his trembling hand not relinquishing his grip upon the young witch's uninjured shoulder, as if a binding spell had pressed his hand over the top of Tonks's, and he made no move to remove his hand from on top hers.
His lined face was tarnished with wrath and annoyance at the young Auror's stubbornness that reminded him a little bit of Sirius back at Grimmauld Place, and her staunch refusal to accept his aid, but which slowly faded at the sight of Nymphadora Tonks's hollowed gaze, as though she were exhausted.
Easy, Moony, James's voice cautioned him, sounding sterner with him than usual. There's a good chance she's still on edge from what happened last night. Go slow. Don't lose your temper over something so small as this.
Remus bit the inside wall of his cheek as he could not seem to tear his gaze away from Tonks.
He could feel his breaths intensifying as he looked at her. Tonks's dry, cracked lips were parted slightly, though she did not speak, and she had this uncanny ability to pierce right through his eyes and into his soul without even knowing the effect she had impaled upon his fragile heart.
Lupin withdrew just slightly, and allowed his grip upon the young woman's skinny, delicate wrist to slacken, just enough and he sighed in agitation. "You need to allow me to help you, Tonks. Otherwise, it will get infected. And if that happens, it won't do you or me any good, will it?"
Remus lowered his voice an octave, doing his best to quell the tremors that lay within his voice, and his hands balled into fists by his side as they shook with the vestiges of his last thread of patience as he waited for her to respond.
Tonks froze, her gray eyes widening as round as a dinner plate. She drew in a sharp breath that pained her lungs as she met her new partner's gaze.
The pink-haired young Auror was not sure she could place the stare he was currently giving her. A mixture of frustration, concern, fear, and…something else she could not quite place, glistening in his brown eyes.
She drew in a sharp breath of cold air, just as a gust of wind wafted in through the open window, and she felt the familiar sharp pang of pain in her chest. "Damn," she swore through gritted teeth, clutching at her heart. She was breathing, she could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest, but the air just wouldn't return to her lungs, like her lungs were slowly filling with water.
Next came the rising panic that began in the pit of her stomach, the immense feeling of dizziness accompanied by a horrible churning feeling of nausea that twisted her insides, and it was always a gamble if she would get sick.
Though she could currently taste the acidic bile coating the back of her throat. Inflating her lungs felt like pushing up against a chunk of stone on her chest. She sucked in the air around her as if it were chocolate, her weakness.
Yet here, she was, cowering at the edge of her bed in an unfamiliar private room in St. Mungo's, however temporary this little arrangement was, and she wasn't able to breathe, and Remus was eyeing her with no small amount of concern in his eyes. She let out a pained gasp that sent a swell of pain down her spine and caused the stab wound at her ribcage to flare up in agony.
Tonks shot out an arm forward, meant to keep Remus Lupin away from her, though she was surprised to see that it had quite the opposite effect, as the man's arms shot out the moment he spotted the strength rapidly leaving her, and he didn't hesitate to help her sit up straighter.
"Deep breaths, nice and slow, come on..." he encouraged, and she was relieved to see that his frustrations with her practically vanished the minute she turned her head to the side to cough. "That's it…"
Clenching her eyes shut, she did as Lupin advised and tried to force her breathing to return to normal, though her efforts were proving fruitless. "I…"
"Are you hurt? Is this another panic attack? Do you have asthma?" There was no mistaking the concerned undertones of the man's usually calm voice.
He's worried for you, Dora…He's already proven himself to be different than that wanker, Snape, hasn't he? Ollie's voice spoke to her in his calm voice.
Tonks's eyes flung wide open at hearing his voice, and before the young Auror could answer Lupin, she broke out in a ragged coughing fit and clutched at the wound site near her ribcage where Crouch had stabbed her in a mad rage, as if someone had punched her in the stomach and curled in on herself.
"Tonks? Are you sick? Is this another attack? Talk to me, Nymphadora."
He saw the young witch briefly shoot him a look of daggers at the use of her first name in full, though he'd forgotten her preference in his moment of concern for her well-being, not knowing how to help her.
Remus felt his concern for his new partner escalate to an entirely new plane of existence, as he perched himself on the edge of her bed's mattress. Lupin placed a firm, steady hand on her uninjured shoulder, and he pondered over how to help her now.
Water, Moony, barked James's voice, sounding highly irritated and appalled that Remus hadn't been able to figure this one out for himself.
Remus glanced wildly around the room and then remembered the glass of water he'd brought along with an apple, a Chocolate Frog, and a couple of pieces of unbuttered toast since he didn't know what condition her stomach was in.
Shooting a brief thanks in his mind to James's suggestion, he bolted from his spot on her bed and crossed over the room's threshold to the other side, and returned with the water clutched in hand, careful not to spill any.
Lupin, as Tonks dared to meet his concerned gaze, felt the feeble muscle within the confines of his chest give a painful little quiver, and a strange, blazing heat immediately rose to his face and pulsated through the rest of his body.
Remus reached out a gentle but slightly shaking hand and felt her forehead. He frowned. It was growing warm. He heard her breaths hitch and through the close distance between them, Lupin could have sworn he'd heard the young witch's heartbeats pick up the pace and thrum against her chest.
Worry wormed its way into his stomach, twisting and churning his insides into hard coils and making him feel slightly ill himself as he glanced at her pallid features. The way that her pink lips were pursed into a line, how her gray eyes had dulled, that gray fire billowing within her soul now an ember, suggested to Lupin the very worst.
Nymphadora was having a relapse.
Merlin's beard! Why could he not have simply stayed put by her side? He shouldn't have listened to Dumbledore last night and gone back to Sirius's.
If he would have discarded Albus's orders and simply stayed here, with her, even if he had to sleep in the chair he was currently sitting in, then if it meant she would have not had to suffer like this. Then he would endure it.
Remus resisted the urge to growl in frustration. "Tonks? Are you hurt?" Lupin was careful to mind his choice of words and speak with the utmost of care so as to not seem at all like he was coming across as demanding or hurt.
Her gaze was seemingly fixated in a furrowed frown upon the open window. Remus gently removed his hand from her uninjured shoulder, his gaze drifting towards the grotesque slash just above Tonks's left collarbone.
"Let me help you," he urged. Now he was practically begging her, and even he could hear the desperation that had crept its way into his voice as it cracked and faltered. Lupin let his hand lower just a fraction of an inch towards her outstretched hand meant to stop him from taking so much as another move towards her wound.
But he did not relinquish his hold on her wrist clutched in his hand. Instead, he found his gaze drawn to it and though the pale, delicate appendage perhaps the most beautiful and interesting thing that he had ever laid eyes on.
Remus let out a tired sounding sigh as he ran the pad of this thumb over a nasty looking scar just above her first knuckle. "Tonks, I…" He trailed off, looking away for a moment before returning his gaze back to her.
"Yes?" Tonks whispered the question and was biting her bottom lip.
"You are all right?" Lupin asked Tonks, and there was no mistaking the amount of trepidation and fear laced throughout his voice. His voice softened, and had Tonks not been staring at him with those doe-like wide eyes brimming with a pure innocence that he previously was led to believe did not exist in this world, he would have chosen not to speak at all, but something about her compelled him to. "What's happening to you? Why can't you breathe, Tonks?"
Tonks could not help but stare at her new partner with widened eyes brimming of intrigue and wonder and confusion until she thought her head would explode. So that was the root cause of the issue. The direct cause for his sullenness last night, and why he had seemed reluctant to open to her thus far.
He was worried about her. Tonks sighed softly and resisted the urge to crinkle her nose, not wanting to give Remus the wrong impression right now.
In truth, Tonks wasn't ready to discuss in detail what had happened to her last night. Crouch's wild, the frenzied look was still too fresh of a memory.
The event as a whole had been terrifying. Crouch attempting to rape her, kissing her, at that she really did shudder in disgust as a tremor of revulsion went down her spine as her gray eyes clouded over, though one glance at Lupin was enough to know that he knew she was thinking of Crouch, and not of him.
The young Auror emanated a tense, soft exhale through her nose and gingerly placed her good hand on his shoulder, giving it what she hoped was a light, reassuring squeeze meant to convey comfort, to let him know she was fine, though she visibly winced when she pulled her hand away, and there was a faint red stain in the shape of her own fingerprints on the poor man's sweater.
"Oh," she whispered, eyes wide in horror. "I—I didn't mean to, I…"
But Remus offered a kind smile and held up a hand to stop her, pulling his wand out of his pants pocket and pointed the tip at the crimson, garish stain.
"Scourgify!" he murmured, though never once removing his gaze from Tonks, whose face had reddened in embarrassment. He gave a quick nod of approval as he glanced down and saw the stain had completely vanished. "There. Good as new. No harm was done, and even if it didn't come out that way, there are other ways. Now," he added, his tone adapting a more somber tone as his twinkling light brown eyes narrowed slightly, "allow me to see the wound."
His tone had hardened and coming from her new partner, it was not necessarily a request. Tonks could tell his patience was slowly but surely draining. Still, it did not stop the young witch from trying to deflect him.
"N—no, I—I am fine, Lupin, right now, I'm more concerned about you," Tonks pressured, finally noticing how, when he leaned forward slightly to better look her in the eyes, it looked as though he'd not slept a wink last night.
For his face was much too pale and the circles under his eyes prominent.
And then, as he processed her words, Lupin's head snapped up so fast that Tonks had to quickly move her head back to avoid connecting with it.
She stared, stunned at his abrupt shift in mood.
"How…how can you be so calm about this, Tonks?" Remus snapped, giving her an incredulous look, as though she had sprouted horns on top of her head. Remus did not exactly shout at her, though his voice sounded rougher and coarser than before, his tone clipped. "Crouch could have killed you last night, and yet, you are more concerned over my own well-being. Why?" he demanded hotly, his face paling rapidly.
Tonks bit the inside wall of her cheek. What was she going to say to that? Oh, because I had a lucid hallucination of your face when Crouch was holding me captive that gave me the strength to fight back? And then you saved my life and got me to St. Mungo's just in time, and now, I owe you a life debt?
Oh, yes. That would go over swimmingly well. And after that, they could make friendship bracelets. Tonks furrowed her brows in confusion. She could not dare to voice that particular thought. This was, technically, after all, her first official day of getting to know her new partner, and such a revelation might very well scare him away.
"Because…you saved my life, Remus," Tonks insisted softly, lowering her voice to a hushed, shy whisper. Tonks knew that she just had to make Remus see her side of the situation. "And I owe you…"
"You owe me nothing." Remus's words were sharp and came off perhaps curter than he would have liked, for the wizard blinked, seemingly startled by her confession, though the look of shock on his lined but handsome face was quickly replaced by one of eerily cold indifference, a bitterness.
"Wha…?" Tonks blinked owlishly at Lupin, confused by the change.
The confusion must have been evident on her face, as plain as the nose on her face, for Remus scowled, pursing his lips into a thin line, and elaborated.
"You and I are partners. Were the roles reserved, I know that you would do the same. But…I do not think that I deserve your friendship," he stated coldly, turning his head away from the Auror and hung his head in shame, a seemingly stubborn lock of his light brown bangs to hang over his eyes, shielding his view from Tonks, and those eyes of his from the young witch's.
Tonks's frown deepened. She felt quite she had misheard the man. Though Remus did not give her a chance to argue her point, for he lifted his head and returned his gaze to her. "Nor do I even deserve your trust after last night. I—I have done nothing but cause you hardship in the span of a single day. If not for me, I could have…I could have gotten you here sooner…."
The anger from Remus Lupin's eyes showed the scared man within, the man who was taught to fight and seemingly starved of the friendship he craved.
Tonks considered herself a good judge of character, and as an Auror, she had to be good at reading a person's emotions, and right now, she could see the pain beneath it, and his soul drowning in this persona Remus Lupin had created to fit a world of indifference, no doubt brought on by the restrictions of lycanthropy, how the wizarding world made it difficult for a man like him to get a job that provided a steady stream of income and allowed him to keep it.
But Tonks knew she couldn't help someone like that, not unless the tears and other emotions would come, and Remus Lupin truly allowed himself to feel it, and he realized for himself without her prompting him what was really going on underneath the surface. And she could not fight it for him. I can't…
It would take such a toll on her to do so. The best she could for her new partner was offer a void, to let his shadow box until he craved that sunlight.
That hot fire-seed of anger rose within the confines of her chest, but Tonks quelled it back and bit her tongue in agitation, refusing to let Remus see it. Why was Remus putting the blame on himself for what had happened to her? Why was he feeling like he was the one responsible for what happened?
He was not the one who had pursued Barty Crouch Jr., after all. He was not the one who had talked back to Snape and provoked the man to the point of being unable to stand his insufferable company any longer, and now look!
All of what had happened to her last night was entirely her fault, and Crouch's. Not Remus's. Hers and hers alone, and look at what had happened to her.
Tonks heaved a frustrated sigh as she lifted her trembling, nerve-damaged wand hand to her face to study it, and then gazed at her arm in its splint.
This was what had become of her utter foolishness and lack of regard for her own life.
"Don't start this, Lupin, please," Tonks pleaded, reaching out with her hand and gripping onto the man's shoulders, forcing the man to meet her stony gaze. "Do not believe for even one second that this was your fault! The blame lies with me and with me alone. What happened is my fault…"
Remus's light brown eyes widened at the young witch's agitation. This was perhaps the first time seeing his new partner so…furious in a lucid state before, and he immediately concluded that he did not like this. "Tonks, I don't—" he murmured softly, surprised at the young Auror's insistence, though the young witch immediately held up a hand, cutting him off.
"No, Lupin!" Tonks interrupted violently, shaking her head wildly and staring down at her lap. "I should not have gone out on my own. I know that. I—I didn't think this thing through, and my actions have consequences, and this…and this…" she added, gesturing with a jerk of her head towards her wounded arm in a sling and her shaking, nerve-damaged wand hand, "are my consequences. This is my burden to bear. My punishment for last night."
By this point in their conversation, hot tears pricked at the corners of her vision, threatening to pour over if she couldn't maintain a firm handle on her emotions, which the barrier she had put up, those stone walls around her heart, she could feel them start to inexplicably crack and crumble around this man.
Remus opened his mouth to speak, but a curt tapping on the closed door of her room interrupted whatever he had been about to say next.
Lupin scowled, looking thoroughly annoyed at the interruption, though he reluctantly got up to open the door, flinging it wide open in irritation, casting a sideways glance at Tonks out of the corner of his eye and regarded the newest arrival, and felt his eyes widen in sudden shock and shame for his irritation at the interruption in his conversation with Tonks.
"Professor Dumbledore, what a pleasant surprise to see you here this morning," Lupin breathed, immediately taking a step back and allowing the Hogwarts Headmaster entrance into Nymphadora's room. "We did not e—expect you," he began hesitantly, biting the wall of his cheek.
"It is no trouble," Professor Dumbledore announced jovially, his beard twitching without prompting, though as the smile did not quite reach his eyes.
"Sir?" Tonks prompted in a weak, hushed whisper as she regarded the Hogwarts Professor from her perch on the bed. If the older wizard considered her injuries, he made no comment on them. "Wh—what can I do for you?"
"Oh," Dumbledore began, sounding rather distant as he twiddled his thumbs and rested his hands in his lap, smoothing the creases in his set of gray robes. "I merely wished to pop in for a spell and to see if you were awake…Ah," he remarked, a soft smile twitching behind his gray beard. "I see that your Bowtruckle was safely returned to you. I must confess, I will miss his company. Your Ptelea is unlike any of his species that I have encountered before. He is quite taken with you, Miss Tonks. Continue to care for him."
Tonks gave a mute nod just as the little Bowtruckle poked its head out from where it had claimed a resting spot under a particularly thick lock of Tonks's hair, and Remus could have sworn, though he could not be sure, that he saw the little twig offer a tiny wave and a smile to the Hogwarts Professor.
Professor Dumbledore's words seemed sincere. Though the man's voice suggested the underlying hint of something else.
Lupin furrowed his brows into a frown. "Sir?" he prompted urgently.
Albus glanced up and peered at the pair of new partners over the rim of his spectacles with a suddenly somber expression etched on his weathered and lined face. "You have a visitor waiting outside to see you, Miss Tonks…."
Tonks froze, feeling her face drain of color as she desperately wracked her brain trying to think who might possibly be here to see her. Her parents would have sent along an owl or a Patronus to inform her they were coming.
She had no real friends at the Auror Office to speak of. Her closest friends and thing she had to a family were her fellow Order members, so who...?
"Who is it, sir?" she asked, sticking out her bottom lip in a slight pout, suddenly not sure if she wanted to know the answer to her own question.
Professor Dumbledore lifted his head and regarded the pair in silence. It seemed to take the man an eternity to find his voice again.
"Dolores Umbridge."