Tonks didn't really wake up on Saturday morning, for that would mean she'd actually been asleep. As had become habit of late, the first thing she did was go to her mirror to check whether her hair had changed colour in the night. She was met with the usual disappointment. Still brown.
In the kitchen she set out some food for Moody and then made coffee and sat on the sofa just holding it, the warmth was vaguely comforting but she was perpetually queasy these days so it wasn't particularly appetising. There was a tap at her window and she sighed, how many more invites would she turn down under the guise of being busy with work before she accepted that her friends would just have to see her in this state?
Most of the Auror office had learnt by now that she was having difficulty morphing. To begin with she tried to style it out, act as though it was a conscious choice. But eventually she'd had to turn down an undercover assignment and word had spread through the department like fiendfyre. It didn't help that since Scrimgeour had become Minister of Magic, Robards had taken over as Head of Aurors. Scrimgeour hadn't exactly been warm and friendly but he was fair. With Scrimgeour, if you get the job done, you're an asset to the Auror department, that's that. But Robards enjoyed the power of his new role a little too much. Robards had always been jealous of Mad-Eye's achievements and now Mad-Eye was gone, Robards liked the excuse to take out his jealousy on the Junior Auror Mad-Eye had famously favoured - her. Robards willingly turned a blind eye whenever she was the object of any kind of sexism or teasing. She never thought she'd miss Rufus Scrimgeour but at least when he was here, no one would say anything about her in front of him.
The tapping at the window grew more persistent and she moved to let him in, groaning when she saw it was her mum's owl. Her parents were insisting that she go to lunch tomorrow, it wasn't a choice. She grimaced as she realised that she hadn't gone to see her parents since she'd stopped morphing. She thought back to earlier in the week when she'd cried all over Molly. She hadn't meant to, she hated crying in front of people. It had been bad enough having Molly pat her hand and look at her like a kicked puppy while she herself pretended her devastation was all to do with Sirius. And then Harry had arrived, and she felt appalled with herself. What right did she have to be crying? She was an Auror, she'd signed up for this. Harry was a kid and yet he was handling all this far better than she was.
Her mother's owl nipped her hand a little too hard to get her attention, she started and looked down seeing that it had drawn blood. She rolled her eyes at the bird and instinctively went to morph the cut away before she remembered that wasn't an option and grunted in frustration. Knowing that if she didn't take matters into her own hands, her mother would spend tomorrow getting far too excited over having the chance to finally cut her daughter's hair, Tonks's plans for spending her Saturday doing absolutely nothing were scuppered.
She set out for Diagon Alley hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't run into anyone she knew. She started in Flourish and Blotts since this was at least a shop she felt comfortable setting foot in. However, her uneasiness started to resurface as she headed over to the little shelf for 'witches and wives', scowling at the dated sexism. She didn't want to stay too long, it would be absolute torture if anyone saw her browsing books on cosmetic and domestic spells, so she grabbed a couple of books that looked vaguely useful without dwelling on it, paid without engaging in the shop assistant's friendly chatter and headed out to find the other items which she was feeling terribly unsure about.
By the time she got back to her flat she was exhausted, but the difficult part hadn't even started yet. She shut herself in the bathroom (she didn't like the way Moody was eyeing her suspiciously) and set out all her purchases, scanning the pages of the books, feeling somewhat bemused. It had struck her that she had friends who would gladly help her, but her pride prevented her from reaching out. She'd gotten herself into this mess and she would fix it herself.
She scrutinized her face in the mirror, she was pale and so had selected one of the lightest shades of face makeup. She poured some of the cream into her hand and used the brush to start spreading it over her face. It was a strange sensation and she soon found the brush was rather inefficient in spreading the cream out evenly so gave up and used her fingers instead. She studied her face in the mirror once more and thought that the end result rather paled in comparison to simply morphing away any blemishes but it didn't look too bad, the main issue was that it felt downright uncomfortable to be covered in what was essentially paint. Then she boldly picked up the mascara and coated her eyelashes with it, after a couple of strokes she poked her eye and yelped at the pain. She set the mascara down as her eyes started to tear up, she rubbed it against the pain and when she looked back to the mirror she saw black tear marks streaking down her face. She gritted her teeth, she'd had a feeling makeup wouldn't be for her. She found the makeup remover spell in one of her books and immediately felt relieved to have it off her face. "Ok so you don't need makeup" she told herself, "who are you trying to impress anyway?"
Next she found a hair removal spell and started on her legs. It worked insofar as the hair disappeared but it left her leg red and sore so she decided to try the ointment she'd purchased on the other leg. It had been difficult to get round the back of her leg and she was sure she'd missed some patches but at least it didn't hurt.
She used to enjoy morphing her fingernails different colours. She was far from a colourful mood at present but with brown hair and colourless fingernails she didn't feel like herself, so she attempted to charm her fingernails black. It came out patchy and washed out so she used the ever stay nail polish instead. She wished straight away that she hadn't bothered. Whilst her fingernails were indeed black, so was the skin all around her nails and whilst the 'ever stay' was supposed to be a good thing, she found herself incredibly frustrated that she now couldn't get it off.
By now she was far too irritated to even attempt to cut her own hair. Instead, she made a few attempts at a ponytail with her newly purchased hair ties and then proceeded to collapse on the floor and burst into tears. Be they tears of frustration at her inability to carry out simple tasks that the girls in her dormitory had mastered in fourth year, or tears of sleep deprivation and unrequited love, she wasn't quite sure.
Luckily, her attention was soon diverted from her self-pity as a silver lynx appeared before her, it's light was blinding and she rubbed her eyes as Kingsley's voice filled the little bathroom.
"Tonks, can you make it to Malfoy Manor in the next 20 minutes? Bill and I are held up but Dolohov's en route. Send word asap"
Tonks took a deep breath, this was good, a distraction was what she needed. She closed her eyes and pushed the pain to one side, instead immersing herself in how warm and peaceful it felt to be in Remus's arms. That sparkle in his eyes whenever they pulled apart from a kiss. Lying with her head on his lap on the beach. Curled up naked under the duvet... she waved her wand as she felt the happiness flood through her but when she opened her eyes she gasped, the silver light that flooded the room was not emanating from her jackrabbit as she expected. Instead, something much bigger stood in its place. Her shock caused the patronus to dissipate quickly and she stood staring at the empty space for a while, wondering whether she had truly lost her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Now wasn't the time to lose her head, she needed to send word back to Kingsley to let him know she was on her way. She closed her eyes again, this time carefully selecting memories from a time before Remus. Her Auror graduation was normally her go to, the look of pride she'd seen on Mad-Eye's face when he thought no one was looking, the surprise on the faces of certain individuals who'd thought she'd never make it, the feeling that she was powerful and could do anything she put her mind to, the knowledge that she could and would make a difference in the world...
She felt the warm glow start in her core and emanate out of her wand and into the room. She opened her eyes. She hadn't imagined it. The wolf was standing in front of her and she could feel it's connection to her in the same way she always had with her jackrabbit. Knowing she didn't have time for speculation over this right now, she sent her new patronus off with her message and summoned her boots. It was only as she was pulling on her robes that she realised, she felt a sort of lightness in her that hadn't been there ever since Remus had left. This proved that they were meant to be together. This gave her hope.
Remus trailed slightly behind his little 'scavenging group' as they called it, feeling a deep sense of unease at what he was about to do. But even as his brain desperately scrambled to formulate a way out, he knew he didn't have a choice. Benedict, Nelson and Perdita were the newest werewolves in the pack, all having been turned in the last couple of years. This meant that once Darius and Julian had brought Remus to meet them all and he'd introduced himself, he'd been immediately recognised as the werewolf who'd taught at Hogwarts. He'd never intended to lie and pretend that he hadn't tried to live among wizards, but his history of having lived among wizards so long cast distrust on him from a number of the pack. As such, Benedict had been tasked with shadowing Remus whilst he settled in, to check he wasn't a Ministry spy. His whole life, Remus had been accustomed to having a lot of alone time, indeed with a brain that seemed to work overtime as his did, he found alone time was a necessity. He'd never understood how James and Sirius could manage being around people constantly and not get worn out. Thankfully Benedict wasn't one for conversation, but still Remus felt the pressure of being watched so closely. Whenever his thoughts turned to the Order or Harry he felt agitated as though he'd betray them simply by thinking of them whilst Benedict eyed him from afar. And even worse was when his thoughts turned to Dora, which happened far too frequently, almost constantly in fact. It felt like the height of betrayal to bring thoughts of something so perfect and pure into a place such as this.
The hunt for food was a good way for him to gain some trust. Unfortunately, Remus knew enough about how werewolf packs operated to know that 'hunt' and 'scavenge' most commonly meant 'steal'. They'd taken him to the village yesterday and he'd found himself unable to steal anything. This had resulted in an increased sense of distrust from those who already doubted him and meant he hadn't gotten to eat. So today he'd come with the group again, reminding himself that although he'd never once used poverty as an excuse for theft, he had to do this, it was for the greater good.
When they reached the village, Remus eyed the road of small ill kept cottages. A little way down the street a mother entered through a door with 3 young children and Remus felt a pang as he thought of the Weasley's struggling to make ends meet for their family. He gritted his teeth, no longer sure whether he was up for the task. Then an idea hit him as he remembered the route he'd taken through the town when he'd first arrived. A little way from here was a much wealthier street. He made up his mind, if he was going to steal, he would at least do it from those who had a little excess money. He turned to Benedict who'd been eyeing him suspiciously, "the houses down that way will have better loot" Remus tried to justify his plan.
"They also have high gates and are almost impossible to get into" Nelson told him.
Remus shrugged, "I'll take my chances"
Of course his shadow had to accompany him. "You get me caught, there'll be hell to pay Lupin" Benedict growled as Remus surveyed the wealthier looking houses and planned his route in.
Remus was confident in his ability to sneak anywhere and felt sure that with his experience stealing food from the Hogwarts kitchens in his marauder days, stealing from muggles would be easy enough.
20 minutes later found Remus and Benedict hurrying back towards the woods with 4 fat steaks, a packet of sausages, a loaf of finest quality freshly baked bread and a sack of potatoes. As they feasted that night, Remus got many a thump on the back and even a grizzled smile from the Alpha, Cyprian. Remus knew he should be pleased, he couldn't do what he'd come here to do until he'd gained their trust. But that night as he lay wide awake, staring up at the stars and his thoughts turned once more to Dora, he felt sick to his stomach at the realisation that after mere days in this place, he was already starting to lose the little humanity he'd maintained throughout his years of monthly transformations. When he eventually drifted off, his dreams were filled with those beautiful wide dark eyes, smiling up at him in that way she used to that made his heart stop. But then her smile turned to a look of disgust as she realised the truth of what he really was, and Remus woke in a cold sweat.
Remus got up early the next day, a plan ready formed. He scoured the woods for materials and returned as the first pack members were starting their day, arms full of scraps of rope and piles of ivy that he'd cut down with great difficulty.
"What's all that for?" Asked Christopher, at 15 he was the youngest pack member. Remus hadn't been able to help but notice how the boy's eyes had widened in intrigue when he'd heard that Remus had taught at Hogwarts. Remus had to fight the pang of guilt every time he saw the boy, that Christopher hadn't had the same privilege that he himself had as a werewolf child.
"Fishing net" Remus grunted under the weight of his materials.
Over the coming days Remus spent hours on end working on his fishing net. At first they told him he was wasting his time. Then Benedict got bored of watching him and decided a shadow was no longer necessary. Soon they got angry, that the time he was spending on his little project should be spent doing something more beneficial. Eventually they thought he'd gone insane. But whatever comments were thrown his way he kept working, determined to create a net big enough to yield fish for everyone. After 2 weeks it was finished. Remus set the net in the lake and went back 3 times a day to check it for fish. There was nothing there the first time he checked, nor the second, nor the third. Each time he puzzled over it, making amendments, sometimes getting frustrated but also getting more determined as time went on.
His first transformation in the camp came and went. Hard as he tried to push thoughts of her as far from away from the mind of the wolf as possible, his last human thought was of her, sunlight hitting her bright pink hair as she sat eating ice cream amongst flowers on the Grimauld Place roof. When he woke, he could almost feel the way she ran her fingers through his hair with a feather light touch as he lay under blankets on the Grimauld Place sofa the day after full moon. But then he realised he was shaking and running a fever, his whole right forearm was throbbing, his vision blurred with dots as he tried to lift his head and look down to see the blood pouring out of it. He promptly vomited and blacked out.
He awoke in the same pool of vomit, on the same patch of grass. There was no Sirius to clear it up and carry him to bed. He grunted and rolled onto his hands and knees still shaking and weak. He crawled all the way through to the clearing until he reached the lake. A few of the other pack members had the same idea but he ignored them as he plunged himself into the water, his whole body screaming in pain against the shock of the ice-cold water. He stayed there a while, letting the sensation overcome him and then his stomach growled at him and he sighed, remembering the project he'd spent the last 3 weeks on. He felt no hope at the prospect that perhaps the net had finally worked as he dragged himself over to where he'd laid the net. It was heavy, so heavy and he fell more than once as his weak and aching muscles protested against the exertion. Eventually he fell to the ground once more, vision blurring again. He'd managed to shift the net just a little and he stared in disbelief. He could have sworn he saw a fish squirming when the net shifted. He called out to the others for help. Most of them ignored him. He kept struggling with the net and soon the 15-year-old Christopher had come to join him. They struggled and struggled but gradually they got more and more pack members attention. By the time 5 of them were working on the net, they finally succeeded. There was a shout of laughter and Remus stared stunned at the net that lay before him. There had to be at least 20 fat bream caught in the net, enough for a post moon breakfast for everyone.