Chapter Eleven: Of Wolves and Prisoners
Remus did his best to clear his head of Tonks and their bizarre interaction at the grocer. He busied himself heating ghee and in a large pan, while pots of rice and lentils boiled. Once the ghee was hot, he added liberal amounts of cumin, black mustard seeds, curry leaves, smoked paprika, chillies, fennel seeds and garlic. He was vaguely aware that he was technically rushing this step, and the spices were probably meant to be added and gently sautéed in some sort of order. But, philistine that he was, he'd never found fault with his haphazard dal. Perhaps one had to develop a finer palate for Indian food in order to be able to tell the difference.
When kitchen smelled deliciously of spices tempering in fat, he flicked his wand at an onion and watched with satisfaction as it peeled itself. He flicked it again, and it imploded into tiny, perfect little cubes of diced onion. He sent the onion cascading into the pan, feeling particularly grateful to magic for sparing him onion-tears. Once the onion had sautéed, he divided the mixture in half and set one of the halves aside.
Into the other half, he added more paprika and dried chillies. He flicked his wand at the aubergines - perhaps a little more aggressively than necessary, but they had caused him no small amount of grief that afternoon - which split into cubes and merrily leapt into the pan.
He left the start of his eggplant masala to simmer, and returned his attention to the lentils, draining them by hand (doing it by magic always made him nervous - one slip and you lost your entire meal) and adding them to the mixture he'd set aside.
"SIR-I-US! DIN-NER!" Remus bellowed, feeling rather like Molly Weasley.
He added the tinned tomato to his eggplant masala, and noted with approval that Sirius had walked in looking sober and vaguely contrite.
"Drain that rice, would you? And help yourself to some dal," said Remus.
Sirius nodded, draining the rice and scooping a large helping of dal into a bowl while Remus stirred the masala.
They ate their dal virtually in silence - though Sirius did have the grace to compliment its flavour.
"Sorry," grunted Sirius finally, as he plated them both some eggplant masala and rice.
"You must stop treating your unfortunate situation as an Order-wide conspiracy to keep you down, Sirius," Remus said quietly.
"Easy for you to say," muttered Sirius darkly.
Remus flushed.
"Sirius, believe it or not I do understand what it's like to be unemployed, despised and rather at a loose end through no fault of one's own," said Remus curtly.
Sirius laughed in earnest then, a chilling Black family cackle.
"You think being a werewolf is a terrible burden, because you can't keep a decent job? I can't leave fucking house arrest!" Sirius cried. "I have no vocation, no achievements inside the past fourteen years, and no prospect whatsoever of meeting a woman. You put on a tragic hero act, but many of your problems are entirely of your own making!"
"Of my own making!" Remus exclaimed, an ugly flush creeping across his face. "I suppose you think I deserved to get bitten? Everywhere I go, I eventually become unwelcome - everywhere! Perhaps I have not endured anything quite so traumatic as thirteen years in Azkaban, but it's not my fault you were imprisoned without a fair trial!"
"Moony-"
"You're welcome for dinner," said Remus quietly, standing to leave.
Sirius flicked his wand at the kitchen door, slamming it.
"I'm sorry," Sirius moaned. "I just feel left out and useless all the time - especially when you won't even let me help with Order work that doesn't necessitate leaving the house. What's the harm in me helping you analyse your potion ingredients?"
"Temptation - I know you, Sirius. You'd get drawn in, and you'd steal out in the middle of the night to monitor the Yaxley Mansion," said Remus drily, but he didn't move to magically open the kitchen door.
Remus had always forgiven Sirius for his tantrums far too too easily, only now he didn't even wrestle with himself over it. His friend was justifiably angry and understandably distraught - of course it spilled out from time to time. Regardless, Remus was more irritable near Halloween and he suspected that was weighing on Sirius, too. This would be their first Halloween together - Remus wasn't sure whether this would make the anniversary of James's and Lily's deaths somewhat cathartic, or even harder to bear.
"Speaking of temptation," Sirius said, his usual tone returning. "You and Tonks?"
Remus knew he had not successfully concealed his wince.
"I don't know what you mean," said Remus.
Remus recalled Sirius's jocular warning from a month or so prior - how he didn't want a horny old werewolf pawing at his little cousin. He dearly wanted to avoid the embarrassment of another, sterner, blunter warning.
And regardless, it was a warning that he would not need - he recalled her shocked expression in the grocer. He'd let the mild-mannered gentleman mask slip, and lustily gazed at a beautiful woman in a corset. She'd never see him as a good werewolf, devoid of the base nature for which is kind was so reviled, ever again. His 'one of the good ones' reputation was forever tarnished in her eyes.
There had been signs that she was wary of him before, he now realised. He'd ignored them, initially happy to make a new friend and later keen to believe she might be interested. Not that he'd have done anything if she were attracted to him, but a young woman's interest would have been flattering nonetheless. Internally, he winced at his own vanity.
When she'd been stunned during Moody's ridiculous broomstick exercise, he'd levitated her into the corridor to wake her up. She'd taken his arm to walk back to the ballroom, if only because she was still a little unsteady on her feet, but he recalled how hastily she'd dropped it when they reached the door. And that was before she'd even known he was a werewolf! Presumably, she hadn't wanted her new colleagues to see her arm in arm with a shabby thirty-five year old. Surely she'd be thrilled about being seen on the arm of a shabby thirty five year old wolf, sneered a nasty voice in his head.
She'd been very good about discovering that he was a werewolf, but he had caught a flicker of shock in her expression. He had entertained the idea that she might like him, but not be able to act on it due to anti-werewolf sentiment risking her position at the ministry; he now suspected that was a ridiculous fantasy and she had no interest in him. She'd thought he was having wild sex with Sirius, for goodness sake - a fine pair they'd make, a mildly insane Azkaban escapee and a lycanthrope.
"Moony, Tonks was nearly in your lap when I walked into the library. If I didn't know better, I'd say you two dismissed me because I was ruining your little flirt session," said Sirius.
"I wasn't flirting with her, Sirius," said Remus, dry-mouthed.
"No, I'm sure you weren't," Sirius chuckled. "I'm sure you were resolutely not flirting with her, but you still had that look on your face - the one you always wore around Lily."
So they were onto his feelings for Lily. Remus was surprised that Sirius hadn't mentioned the subject since they were reunited, a little over a year ago.
"Yes, well - who didn't love Lily," said Remus hastily.
"Me," replied Sirius bluntly, summoning a bottle of red and two glasses. "At least, not at first. Nor did Alice, nor Dorcas."
"Because Frank loved her, too," Remus noted.
Sirius chuckled, pouring Remus a glass.
"Drink that, and remind me why you never pursued her," said Sirius.
"James was besotted," replied Remus, taking a swig of his wine.
"Oh come now, Moony - I know you're noble, but no one's that selfless," said Sirius.
"I didn't want to have to compete with James," said Remus, a bitter note creeping into his voice. "Partly because I didn't want to ruin our friendship - and partly because I knew that I would lose."
Their conversation bled into Sirius reminiscing about his glory days - as most of their conversations eventually did. Thirteen years in Azkaban had aged his body thirty years, but his mind had remained stuck on twenty-two. Maybe, Remus reflected, Sirius had actually regressed.
Remus was rescued from further discussion of his unrequited love for Lily, and his burgeoning attraction to Tonks, by the creak of the front door opening. He mentally thanked the newcomer for saving him from further embarrassment.
He would shortly withdraw that sentiment.
*****break*****
"Bloody hell," Sirius said, letting out a low whistle. "I assume it's Tonks under all that?"
Tonks smirked.
"Yeah, Remus was a little surprised when he saw me in Diagon," she said.
The man she'd mentioned was staring intently at the dark purple dregs in his wine glass.
"You two ran into each other today?" Sirius's mouth curved upwards, almost cruelly.
"Yeah, I was on an auror job," said Tonks, flinging herself down into a chair, wincing. By way of explanation - for the wince and the bruises visible on her face and arms - she said: "ran into Carrow. And about that - I need to talk to Remus."
"Speak," said Sirius, tilting his head up and back in an unspoken challenge.
"Alone, I'm afraid, Sirius," said Tonks.
She was surprised when, after a tense moment of silent stillness, Sirius rolled his eyes and left the room without further argument.
Remus was still staring at his glass.
"You home, Lupin?" Tonks asked, snapping her fingers.
He looked up at her, his eyes shrouded.
"Gillyweed," said Tonks without preamble. "There was a contraband market in the basement of the Wyvern - I was sent in disguise to check it out. Carrow bought fuckloads of gillyweed."
"Tonks, please can you change back," said Remus, his voice a little stony.
Ah, so he was human in there. She raised an unnaturally dark, thick eyebrow.
"I got the impression you quite liked this look, Remus," she said, smiling as wolfishly as she was able and puffing out her chest.
"I don't know what you mean," said Remus hastily.
"I reckon you do - what's that you've got on the stove? It's not eggplant masala, is it?"
She had meant to mock him by referencing their exchange over the aubergines; instead, she found herself hoping he'd made masala because she said she liked spicy Indian food.
Remus threw her a startled glance.
"May I have some?" Tonks asked.
Remus swallowed.
"Of course," he said politely, summoning a bowl.
"So," said Tonks, digging into her masala. "You're a breast bloke."
Remus spluttered quite gratifyingly, then pressed his lips together and blinked slowly.
Tonks decided to give him a bit of dignity, and turned her attention to her dinner. The masala was really pretty good for a home-cooked job, with loads of black mustard flavour. Might as well offer the embarrassed man a compliment, she thought. The desire to torment him had ebbed rather a lot, now that she was confronted with the reality of his discomfort.
"This is good," she said after hastily shovelling away a few more mouthfuls, hungrier than she realised. "So, I have no idea what Carrow's going to do with all that Gillyweed. Proudfoot reckons he's going to on-sell - that he's a dealer. I'm not too sure about that personally - in light of his and Yaxley's trips to apothecaries, it seems like too big of a coincidence."
"Gillyweed's used in potions?" Remus asked quickly, and Tonks smirked, realising that he was eager to keep the conversation away from breasts.
"Well that's just it - I don't actually know of any potions that incorporate Gillyweed. But I do know that Snape keeps a store of it, so it must be used for something. I mean, I don't reckon he's much of a swimmer - do you?"
"Snape being an avid swimmer is only marginally more likely than Voldemort preparing to take his loyal followers on a beach holiday to explore coral reefs and shipwrecks," replied Remus, amused.
"Well, that means we need to borrow his books more than ever," replied Tonks. "There's obviously some piece of the puzzle we're not getting, and Snape will have some books on the really dark shit."
"What if he reads your mind?" Remus asked bluntly. "He'll see what you really want the books for and he'll go to Dumbledore, who will have a seizure."
"Yeah I thought of that," replied Tonks, her fork held aloft above her masala. "I'll tell him the aurors have busted a smuggling ring, and we think they were brewing illegal potions as well as selling contraband. And I'll just think really, really hard about being briefed for the mission in the Wyvern."
"That won't work if he determinedly rifles through your brain," said Remus, wincing. "He'll push thoughts of the Wyvern aside in a second, and land at Dumbledore instructing you not to tell him about the death eaters and their potion ingredients."
"Maybe, but it's a believable enough story that he might only take a quick peek," said Tonks, hefting up her metamorphosed cleavage on the word "peek".
"I suppose I could tell him I wanted to brew wolfsbane," said Remus, his voice uncertain and his eyes certainly trained on the wall behind her head. "He won't think me capable of such a feat - but as the potion is lethally poisonous when made incorrectly, he would probably quite happily give me all the books I needed."
Tonks snorted with laughter, almost inhaling a little flake of chilli.
"Wouldn't work," she told him. "There's a Wolfsbane recipe in most advanced potions texts. We need books on rarer, darker things. Fuck it! Why can't Dumbledore just say 'oi Snape, don't use legilimency on the Order, we're walling you off from some intel for your own bloody protection'?"
"Because Snape is a suspicious man, and that would cause him to immediately dose all of us with veritaserum, before conducting a thorough legilimentic rifle," chuckled Remus.
"Speaking of a thorough rifling," said Tonks, drawing out the last word a little as she sat back in her chair, her hands behind her head. "Are we going to talk about the grocer?"
"Tonks, please. Let's not," said Remus, apparently dropping the pretence that he 'didn't know what she meant'.
"So there's no specific tall, dark, beautiful woman in your past?" Tonks mused. "You just like tits?"
"I didn't know it was you, Tonks," Remus protested.
That much was pretty bloody obvious.
"I worked that much out," Tonks muttered. "But there are lots of women who look a bit like that hanging around the Wyvern's basement - apparently their inspiration is Bellatrix."
Remus gaped at her, horrified.
"Tonks, do you truly think that I'm the type to pay for it - even if I could afford it?" Remus snapped. "That would be a fine use of Sirius's charity. 'Sirius, lend me another few galleons, I'm off to Knockturn Alley. Women are less likely to reject me when they need my, sorry, your money.' I wonder if they put the price up for werewolves…"
"Not what I meant," said Tonks hastily. And it truly hadn't been what she meant.
"Bellatrix left Hogwarts the year before I arrived," said Remus sternly. "By the time I was thirteen, practically everyone suspected her of being a Death Eater. It would be a long time before she achieved infamy as the reviled torturer of Frank and Alice Longbottom, but she had a reputation for depravity even then. I never had a schoolboy crush on her, amusing though you may find that idea."
For fuck's sake.
"I didn't mean that either, Remus. It was just a throwaway comment - I'm still trying to get my head around the whole idea, to be honest. I ran into Bellatrix on a visit to Azkaban, and she's haunted my nightmares ever since."
Remus's pinched scowl softened, and his eyes grew warm once more.
"I am sorry - Sirius and I had a difficult conversation before you appeared," said Remus. Catching her wince, he said: "your appearance saved me from having to answer some classically Sirius questions, so don't feel so very guilty."
"Alright," said Tonks. "If you turn around, I'll change back. I'll need to strip though, because I re-sized these pants."
Remus eyed her suspiciously, but did as she requested. She removed her corset and pants quickly, and pulled on the comfy old jumper in her bag. The corset she could transfigure back into a shirt and as for the pants, she'd need them off in order to return them to their original size - significantly shorter in length, and slightly wider in the thighs. Then she unmorphed; one spell later, and her pants were her size again. She pulled them on and threw the corset back into her bag. She could worry about performing the complex untransfiguration later.
"Decent?" Remus asked.
"Never," said Tonks, jauntily as she could manage.
He turned around, and smiled sweetly. Perhaps even 'contentedly', nagged Tonks's inner voice. He gazed at her with warm, wide eyes and a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, causing a gentle sort of warmth to spread through her body. The familiar tingling sensation started up somewhere behind her navel - that was no longer a surprise to her. But she was surprised by the gentle, affectionate warmth which spread throughout her chest, causing her to smile involuntarily - a real smile, unforced as the slight arousal building in her lower belly.
"Back to humble old Tonks," she said, gesturing toward herself.
"That's a relief," said Remus. "You know, it really can be very disconcerting to see your mannerisms and hear your voice on a stranger."
"A tall, sexy stranger," said Tonks, batting her eyelashes.
"Quite."
"Hey Remus, d'you reckon I can stay?"
"I'm sure Sirius wouldn't mind," he murmured. "We have about six empty bedrooms. I'll find you some clean sheets."
*****break*****
Tonks trotted after Remus - and his bloody long legs and their longer stride - down the hallway. She'd felt strangely settled in his company, as though she was returning home after a long day. Certainly, her body responded to his - but that happened to her quite frequently. This soft sort of smiling, warm fondness was new.
As Remus hoisted some sheets out of an airing cupboard, he turned to look at her and seemed suddenly embarrassed and guarded again.
"Er…we haven't quite ridded all the guest bedrooms of boggarts, yet. Shall I show you to Harry and Ron's old room?"
"Thanks," she said, smiling openly at him once more.
Remus lead her up three flights of stairs, past the little square landing which allowed the staircase to turn a corner (and on which the last few taxidermied house elf heads were situated), to the second floor. She followed him through the first doorway and watched with amusement as he cast some very proficient household spells, causing the bedsheets to tuck themselves over the mattress in a pristine, hotel-quality fashion.
"You're good at those," she smiled. "I'm horrific. Lack the patience, or the finesse, or something."
"I was a hotel cleaner for three months."
Oh good, she'd made him admit to another employment embarrassment.
"Ah, sorry," said Tonks, thinking the sentiment quite inadequate.
"No need to apologise," said Remus lightly. "It was by choice. I was only in Finland for four months."
"Tell me about it!" Tonks said, a little too eagerly. She was excited at the prospect of teasing a happy memory out of him.
"In the morning," he said softly.
"Bet you won't," she mock-huffed, plonking herself down on the neatly made bed and leaving Remus standing awkwardly in front of her. "Sirius will be annoyed, or Mundungus will send us racing to the Leaky, or Voldemort will apparate onto the pitch during Arsenal's next match and kill a few thousand muggles - I reckon the universe will intervene to stop me from hearing about your four months in Finland."
Remus held up his hands in submission.
"Alright, alright! Tonks, I'll tell you," chuckled Remus. "Shortly after the wizarding war ended, I found myself constantly moving between part time jobs, always having to leave my employment and accomodation once my condition was exposed. I hoped that in time, as the memory of Voldemort's use of werewolves during the war faded, people would become less frightened and more accepting - it was a foolish hope, and it was dashed by eighteen months of continual hirings and firings."
Tonks took this opportunity to reach for his cold-looking, too-big hand, in what she hoped would be a comforting gesture. It didn't really seem to have the desired effect, and she withdrew her hand, feeling foolish. She gestured to a space next to her on the bed, inviting him to do the same.
Remus cleared his throat, and appeared to be pretending not to notice her invitation.
"In 1984, I heard about the Wolfsbane potion. I briefly entertained the notion of buying or brewing it - I am sure I don't need to tell you what a pipe dream that was. But by 1985, I was feeling very low indeed, and I decided to return to Hogwarts to hunt for Wolfsbane ingredients in the forbidden forest."
"You were going to brew it yourself?" Tonks asked, mildly aghast. "Did you know back then that a badly made one'd kill you?"
"Er…yes," Remus replied, looking at the floor.
"You went for the 'cure or death' option, then?" Tonks asked in a low voice.
"Yes," he said, seemingly oddly cheerful about it. "I fancied that life wasn't worth living as an unmedicated werewolf. I often wonder, had I actually brewed a draught of wolfsbane, if I'd have had the courage to drink it. I rather suspect I would not have touched my own concoction."
"Remus, hoping for better days isn't stupid or cowardly, for fuck's-"
"Tonks," he interrupted her interruption, sounding a little more bitter. "Wait until you hear what I did next before you make that judgment. In the forest, I ran into a student - a second year, as it turned out, aged twelve or thirteen. She offered to give me Wolfsbane, and I did not look that particular gift horse in the mouth: I accepted immediately, and we met in the forest regularly."
Tonks recognised all the hallmarks of the lead-up to a bad ending, so she didn't interrupt to tell him that she knew the student and therefore, she knew this part of the story. The girl had been in her year, and in her house.
"I later discovered that she had been giving me her potion, and transforming alone in the shrieking shack, as I had done when I was at Hogwarts. In retrospect, my belief that a twelve year old had access to a limitless supply of an incredibly rare and expensive potion seems…ridiculous to the point of wilful blindness. I willingly deluded myself, because I didn't want to consider the possibility that she was giving me her own potion, or doing something dangerous to get more potion."
"Well Remus, it was Hogwarts - and bloody Snape was already there. It's not barmy to think that if anyone could work out how to brew vats and vats of wolfsbane on the cheap, he could," said Tonks. She knew she was throwing him a lifeline - his view that the student had been offering free, spare wolfsbane did verge on deliberate delusion.
"Anyway - take a seat, for goodness sake - how does this link in to Finland?" Tonks pressed on, eager to keep him from delving back into morose self-pity.
She was pleasantly surprised when he sat down next to her, causing the old mattress to dip slightly, sliding them slightly closer together. The outsides of their thighs pressed warmly against one another. He didn't move away. She fought the urge to tense the muscles running down her inner thighs - it would be obvious in tight leather pants.
"In the summer of 1986, my life…left a lot to be desired. I was in my late twenties at the time; my youthful optimism regarding the emergence of a cure for, or greater tolerance of, my condition had taken rather a beating. However, I had heard about werewolf communes in other countries - these were nothing like Greyback's pack. They were located in remote areas, and all the werewolves would return there to transform among their own kind. For the rest of the month, members were varyingly integrated into mainstream wizarding society. It sounded too good to be true, so I decided to see for myself."
"And?" Tonks asked. "Was it better?"
"Well, the Finnish wolf communes weren't quite as good as all that - but they were a damn sight better than the situation in Britain. Other wizards still looked upon us with suspicion, but nothing like the fear and loathing with which British wizarding society regards us. For example, there were certain jobs from which we could not legally be fired just for being werewolves - boarding school teacher wasn't one though," said Remus, with a slight smile.
"But it wasn't enough to create an entire werewolf army, under someone like Greyback?" Tonks mused.
"Scandinavian 'Greyback' type figures never gather the same following, it's true. It would be wrong to claim there was neither suspicion nor mistrust between some of the werewolves who chose to live rough in the woods all month and those like me, who tried to approximate normal wizards for - as a particularly vivacious young witch once put it - three hundred and fifty three days per year," said Remus softly.
At that, Tonks smiled what she hoped was a beatific smile. She thought she'd quite like to kiss him, but knew that was a terrible idea. To stop Remus from leaving, and because she felt it was important to know more about her cousin's mental state, she spoke.
"When you said you'd risk death for a cure - that's what Sirius is up to now, isn't it?"
Remus looked startled - more by her knowledge of this information than by the information itself, she suspected.
"I mean, his worst fear is going back to Azkaban," continued Tonks. "Back in the summer, when I first met all of you, he said something about preferring to die a hundred painful deaths than to ever be taken back."
Remus nodded.
"So, every time he puts himself forward for missions, he's secretly planning to suicide by auror if he gets caught?" Tonks went for the blunt approach. "He has no intention of being captured, does he? He just reckons being cooped up here is bad enough that a few hours of freedom is worth risking death. Mind you, he'd have to fire off a killing curse in order to be killed by the aurors, instead of just stupefied."
For a while Remus didn't speak. The only sounds were the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the faint creak of mattress springs as Tonks shifted uncomfortably.
"Tonks, please do not take this the wrong way - it will sound patronising, but that's not my intent," said Remus gently. "You cannot imagine the effect that Azkaban has had on Sirius. He is not entirely sane and even if Voldemort were destroyed and Sirius were exonerated tomorrow, I am not confident that he could ever truly recover."
"He's your best mate, you know him loads better than I do," said Tonks. "But Remus, my job has me in Azkaban from time to time - I do have an idea of what the place is like! Aurors take new inmates over the sea crossing to the island - I've done that. I've even been there with my boss to interview lifers - and I admit most of them just rant and rave. I see why Sirius would choose death over Azkaban - but why'd he choose it over house arrest here, where he can still see you and Harry?"
Remus was quiet for a moment, then murmured: "Do you not find it odd that this house still has boggarts?"
"Yes," said Tonks, bluntly. "I assumed you two just couldn't be bothered to banish them all, like I can't be bothered to pick my clothes off my bedroom floor."
Remus smiled, but the expression was devoid of warmth.
"We've been keeping them for a purpose. Are you aware of how I taught Harry to defend himself against the dementors?" Remus asked.
Tonks shook her head.
"Harry's boggart is a dementor - I had him practice the charm on boggarts, as an introductory step."
Tonks blinked as her brain made the connection.
"Sirius's boggart is a dementor, too? And he still can't cast a patronus?" Tonks asked incredulously.
"He mastered the charm in his fourth year - his was an enormous German Shepherd. Since his imprisonment in Azkaban, he hasn't even managed to produce the faintest shimmer of a non-corporeal patronus. I doubt that he ever will."