It had all started with him being stubborn and driven, possessed by the suffocating feelings of worthlessness and insecurity. At the time, he'd swallowed down the hurt, the pain, the new surge of hatred, all for what he held in his mind as the 'greater good'. In his head, he was making a clear, rational decision, no matter how badly it tore him to pieces on the inside.
"It can't work…" Remus had told her, refusing to look to her eyes. Part of him knew how much more of a pitiful creature that made him- he didn't even give the poor girl the respect of acknowledgement. He knew that if he did that, he'd swallow his words in a heartbeat and reject them all together.
"I'm too old, too poor, too dangerous for you." He said, seemingly cold and detached. She'd just stood there, a shiny glaze of tears threatening to leave her eyes. It jarred him even more, because Nymphadora Tonks, auror and Metamorphmagus extraordinaire, did not cry. She was too fierce, too stubborn, too strong to cry.
It was so, so depressing for him that she would cry over a pathetic creature such as himself. Someone far too old, way too poor, and terribly too dangerous.
It was even more surprising that this time around, she hadn't said a word to him. Just stared him down with those green, red-rimmed eyes, as if willing him to say another word against her. Finally, when the tension began to overwhelm even Remus, she moved. A part of him expected her to kiss him, he thought guiltily; he would've relished it before scolding it, a small bit of indulgence. But instead, she walked smoothly out of the room, the only sign of their interaction a small sniffle on her part.
Remus let his breath out, and let it all in. It hurt, a nasty weight on his chest. She didn't deserve this treatment. No, she deserved some handsome, young wizard, just as smart and quick-witted as herself. She definitely did not deserve to be condemned to a life alongside a creature such as himself.
She would bounce back, eventually. He hoped that whenever she did, he would either be dead or long gone, out of reach from every owl on the damned planet. But she would eventually find someone worth her time.
He wouldn't move on, but he decision was for the best. He wouldn't waste any more of his life selfishly bringing those he loved into his misery.
Grimmauld Place was quiet and dead the weeks following.
He knew it was because the presence of a certain bubbly auror was gone, but he instead placed the blame on other factors. It was a frosty winter outside, the sun refusing to perform its duties. Sirius had been gloomy as ever, seemingly caught up in the past once again. Molly had yet to bring another care package or organize another Order dinner, so they were left without the comfort of chaotic companionship.
Remus didn't eat much, but he assured himself that it was simply because the full moon was only a week away. Nothing sounded quite right, and even his beloved tea and cocoa became unappealing to him. It was just the moon, he lied to himself.
It became a nauseating routine of trying- and failing- to sleep, waking and half-heartedly sipping tea, and spending the day trying to fill a void he'd thrown himself half-heartedly into. And then it was back to bed, only to lay awake and stare at the peeling paint of the ceilings.
One day Remus had dragged himself out of bed to seek out a cup of tea, only to hear a jarring voice drifting out of the library.
"No, Sirius, I'm here to drop off the papers from Dumbledore." The voice, annoyed, strained, and oh so sweet, broke Remus's attempts at ignorance. His heart lurched, painfully aching in his chest. He hadn't realized how much he missed her until he heard her voice again, a beautiful sound to his ears.
He'd kill to have her by his side, telling him again of some shenanigans in her department or some epic Quidditch play she'd witnessed in the tournaments. Things he had little to no interest in, but when she was speaking, it was as if it were gospel.
"Why'd he make you bring it all the way here then?" Sirius answered, and Remus could practically see the signature smirk on his face. Remus found himself in the bend of the hallway, unable to see the conversation take place, but able to clearly paint the picture in his mind. He'd regret it later, but he'd became desperately hungry for her in the absence. Selfish, he told himself, selfish yet again.
"I don't know, you git." Tonks said, practically seething. "I'm just doing what he says."
"He was hoping you'd run into my moody little werewolf friend." Sirius responded cheekily. Remus squeezed his eyes shut, wincing.
"I've no idea why." Tonks said brazenly, not a hint of involvement in her voice. Had you been an outsider listening in, her auror training would've made one believe that she had but a clue what her involvement with Remus Lupin could be. But sadly, Remus was the farthest thing from a outsider in this situation, and he couldn't help the stab of hurt that went through him.
Remus heard the rustle of clothing, the sound of a coat being wrangled on; a rush of terror overtook him. God, how he wanted to see her, her pretty, heart-shaped face and the glint of youth in her eyes, but at the same time he never wanted to see her again. She had far, far too much control over him, and thank the gods she had not found that out yet.
"Tonks," Sirius said, the playful tone absent from his voice. "Really, are you alright?"
There was silence, as two sets of ears awaited her answer.
"I'll be fine on my own."
And with that, she left with a crack of an apparition, leaving Remus to lick his wounds.
After three weeks, an owl finally came, delivering a friendly message.
It was Molly Weasley, inviting both Remus and Sirius to a dinner at the Burrow tomorrow evening. Although it detailed nothing but a hearty, happy feast, they both knew the underlying message: it was an Order meeting.
There had been little need to meet as of recently, so the return of some semblance of routine comforted Remus. He'd have a reason to get out of bed in the mornings, to shave, to take care of himself again. He could drown himself in more missions of the Order, suffocate himself in the distraction of forced duty. He knew she would never be completely out of his mind, but he could subdue that part of him with work instead.
The sad thing was the realization that Tonks would be there as well. He scolded himself- of course she would attend, being such a bright, gifted Auror as herself. Her life did not end when he excused himself from it, quite the opposite of what it did to Remus's own life.
The letter rekindled his overwhelming emotions once more, reminding himself that he was in fact, doing terribly.
The full moon was awful this month, leaving him a weak, muddled man. Something inside him ached dearly, and he realized bitterly that it was some repressed need for her. Some ugly, repressed animal part of him needed her, needed her to fill the empty spot in his bed and the vacant hole in his heart. The full moon left him feeling more like an animal.
The realization that the wolf wanted her just as badly as he did left Remus even more confident in his decision. He was some animal deep down, a wolf seeking for a mate. He wondered, numbly, if he could even love someone correctly. Perhaps that had been stolen from him when he became a wolf.
And once again, Remus Lupin found out that he was the perfect criteria for a man Nymphadora Tonks did not need.
I'll be fine on my own, she'd said.
Remus had heard her correctly, he knew. His senses had never failed him; they always peaked before a moon, and he had heard every movement, every little sound from the library that day. He'd even smelled the scent of her wafting through the hallways, a temptation of youth.
But clearly something had been lost in the translation, if his eyes did not fail him now.
Charlie Weasley could hardly keep his hands off the witch, entwining their fingers, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, twirling a lock of her bubblegum-pink hair around a finger. Tonks seemed indifferent to the flirtation, just grinning back up at the Weasley boy, gently shoving his hand away from her face in a playful motion.
Remus was bitter. He could practically taste the emotion in his mouth, a nasty lump in his throat that he could easily identify as unrestrained, ugly jealousy. It burned inside him.
"I didn't have too much time to cook up a full meal, now, since I was given a very short notice-" Molly began, rushing through the dining room, a large pot in her hands while three more floated behind her, following her every move.
"And I apologize for that, again. Your hospitality never fails us." Kingsley said, a slight grin on his face as he watched the witch place dinner in front of her awaiting guests.
The table was filled to the brim, with at least twenty members seated around its surface. Remus had found himself across the room from the pair he was trying desperately to not acknowledge, seated between Sirius and one of the older Weasley brothers that he could not place for the life of him.
"So, you seen Harry play any Quidditch lately, Moony?" Sirius asked, completely out of the blue; Remus understood the distraction when he heard it.
He didn't need a distraction. He was fine. He made his decision, and he was completely fine with it. It was logical, and it was obvious that Tonks had agreed with him after a few weeks.
God, only a few weeks. A few weeks, and this happens.
"Remus?" Sirius asked again, his expression turning worried.
"Fine." Remus answered, a bit loudly. "I'm fine, Sirius."
"That's not what I asked, and it's not the truth, but I suppose I gotta take what I can get." Sirius replied, stirring his soup around with little interest. He seemed almost amused with the entire situation, and that royally pissed his companion off.
Remus shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth, swallowing the burning liquid without a taste. He saw Tonks giggling out of the corner of his eye, her hand clasped over her mouth as she watched Charlie gesture wildly. Remus forced his focus on his friend instead.
"I know I'm rather pretty, but It'd be great if you'd stop admiring me." Sirius said cheekily, sipping on a flask from God knows where. He'd made himself quite at home at the Burrow's mismatched dining table, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. He was as happy as Remus had seen him in ages, a youthful glimmer in his eyes, and it couldn't help but heal Remus's sour mood a small fraction.
"Don't flatter yourself." Remus grumbled, crumpling the napkin in his lap anxiously. He wanted out of the situation dearly, wanted to hole up in his room at Grimmauld Place and lick his open wounds until the pain was bearable.
"Lighten up, buttercup." Sirius told him, a wicked grin painting his features, his hair wild around his face. He looked like a perfect portrait of his younger self, eager to engage in activities that would only aid his expulsion from school. There was something else glinting in his dark eyes, though, something Remus couldn't put his finger on.
"You did put yourself in this situation, after all."
There it was- the glint in his eyes, the coldness of his statement, the blank grin he gave Remus. He was enraged on the inside, and it hit Remus that perhaps Sirius's moodiness over the course of the past few weeks were provoked by his best friend, instead of just his normal bouts of depression.
No, Remus realized, Sirius was furious. Furious that he had rejected his cousin, furious that he had declared a love unrequited when it was in fact very, very requited. And, if Remus knew Sirius Black at all, he was furious that his best friend had allowed himself to cut himself off, once again, by the hands of his own worthlessness and self-repulsion.
Instead of an equally frosty reply, or a rare surge of anger, Remus instead took a sip of his tea, his mind a mess. Somewhere down the table, Charlie had slung an arm around a Metamorphmagus, pulling her small frame into the crook of his shoulder as they both chuckled over an elaborate hoax described by Fred Weasley. Remus drank more tea.
He could see it behind his eyelids, a constant imagination in his head. He could picture them embarking on dates, dining at fancy restaurants and wrangling rare creatures. Training dragons and seeing the opera on the weekends. Remus could picture Charlie kissing her, hands tangled in her hair as it ran through the colors of the rainbow, a brilliant shade of pink fading into greens, blues, and reds, until landing on an elated yellow. Could picture them falling into bed, him slipping off her dress as she muttered his name like a vow.
"I must go." Remus announced quickly, standing so suddenly that his chair was almost toppled over. His eyes were large, his breath quick and his appearance even shabbier than normal, and to the rest of his fellow wizards, he seemed to be in shambles. The room was deadly silent.
"Remus, honey, are you not feeling-" Molly, ever the guardian, began to inquire, before being cut off quickly.
"The moon." Remus said, hating himself even more as he kept talking. He never talked about his condition; they accepted him here, but he wondered just how far that acceptance would stretch. "It is still, ah, bothering me after my moon."
The silence was made even more uncomfortable and awkward, and he found himself wanting to lash out violently. He was a fool, even when he made the right decision, the one best for everyone's wellbeing. Still a pathetic fool.
He swiftly left the room, going to reclaim his coat from the hangar by the doorway. He faintly heard the sound of silverware clinking again as the guests began to enjoy their dinner once more.
"Sorry," He heard Sirius say to the table. "He's a bit- ah, what's the word- moody as of late."
Lupin apparition with a sharp crack, a snarl on his lips.