"I can always depend on Nymphadora to sum things up in a concise manner," Dumbledore said, smiling at the woman who had spoken.
"Tonks," she corrected stubbornly.
The sole female among the group of look-alike redheads rushed forward, her flyaway hair bobbing around a round, kind face. She grabbed Dea's hand before Dea could even move and pressed it between her own. "Well, look at you," she said, her eyes wide. "And here we thought you were gone. I'm so sorry about your mother—my Mum and she were dear friends when they were tots, you know." Her eyes bounced around the room and she straightened with a bit of a "harrumph." "Didn't anyone make some proper tea for the woman? Merlin!" And with that, she swept into the kitchen.
"So what's she got that we can't do without?" A tired-looking man holding what looked to be a very filthy pipe spoke distinctly, patting a hand to his belly. He eyed her speculatively. "We hear you're only a middling witch, with middling powers. Big brains, little wand," he snorted.
"It's the healing." Remus stepped forward, speaking after a long moment of very uncomfortable silence. He shot Severus an annoyed look, then gave one to Dumbledore. Was no one going to speak up for her? "It's as she did with the drapes there. She has only to say the words, not even a particular spell or incantation, and the deed is done." So saying, he brushed a finger over the side of his nose, smiling at her encouragingly.
"So you're a Healer?" The question came from one of the three remaining redheads, a man a bit younger than her with a shaggy head of strawberry-blonde hair and arms the size of tree trunks.
"No." It was Severus who spoke, finally regarding her with an air of objectivity that made her want to squirm. "She hasn't the training of a Healer."
"An unlicensed Healer… I always said this place needed a few more rebels." Another redhead piped up, slipping a hand through an incredible mane of shoulder-length red hair and revealing an earring. He grinned at her roguishly and got an elbow in the ribs from a man who Dea assumed was his father.
"It's like Harry with his broom," the strawberry blonde said. "Just a natural."
"Yes, because everything must always relate back to Potter," Severus rejoined, rolling his eyes.
"You're a right prig, you know that, Snape?" The strawberry blonde leaned forward threateningly, only to be elbowed by both father and brother.
"Stop!" Dumbledore's voice cut through the chatter that was starting to rise again and looked at Dea. "Amadea sent us her plea, it is for her to tell us why she did so." He inclined his 1head toward her, making her nervous indeed.
"Ah…" For a moment she was afraid she'd be completely speechless, but then she looked once more at Remus, who nodded for her to go on. "I've been everywhere in the last twenty years. I've heard things, I've seen things that none of you have been able to see or hear. And Remus is right, the healing is what I have to offer you. It's my understanding that we're in a battle." She locked eyes with Dumbledore then. "And in a battle, soldiers are inevitably wounded. So I can help you in that manner. It also doesn't hurt that the Ministry doesn't know I'm alive, and neither do the Death Eaters."
"Well, some of the Ministry knows now," Tonks said apologetically, shrugging and then jerking her thumb at a redheaded man Dea's age and the man who looked like a giant black pirate.
"And one Death Eater knows now," Severus couldn't help adding.
Are you so determined to cut me with your words? Dea wondered, keeping her eyes away from his.
"I'm still not sure about this." The man with the pipe furrowed his brow a bit and looked at her through watery eyes.
"You had better become sure, Fletcher." The black man spoke, his voice cutting smoothly through the tension. "She was right. She can help."
"Then it's settled." Dumbledore looked around at the other members of the Order who had not spoken and saw nods from nearly all of them. Turning back to her, he spread his hands wide. "Well, then. You are, of course, welcome to stay here if you'd like. I will have your things sent over from Hogwarts."
Dea smiled but her eyes were hard as she looked at Severus. His were not the only words that could cut. "That's quite all right, Professor. I left nothing of mine at Hogwarts."
~~~
He would have preferred to leave but knew there was no way to do so without being painfully obvious. It was supposed to be a meeting, after all, even if all that was going on was more socializing. He watched with hardened eyes as members of the Order introduced themselves to her, some ingratiating, others curious, and a slight few disapproving.
And of course Weasley had to drag his half-brood to her, introducing each of the two sons as though they were something more than… well, than Weasleys.
"Hallo, then! Hi! I'm Arthur Weasley, and my wife Molly's making the tea in there, should be done any second." He pumped her hand enthusiastically and pointed at Bill and Charlie in turn, introducing them.
Dea smiled politely and found her hand being shaken less enthusiastically, albeit more firmly, by each of the two young men.
"You and I related, you know," Arthur confided. "Distant, but still there."
Across the room, Severus's mouth tightened into a line so thin as to disappear entirely. He supposed it should have been one more reason to be grateful for the way things were, but…
But he longed to have that ease with her that everyone else had, the ease of just meeting, the ease of no history. And everyone had that ease with her except for him. And, he amended, Lupin. The last thing Severus wanted was for her to be alone in the malignant hulk of a house with the werewolf, but he had no say in the matter.
And why should I care? Severus prodded himself. He shouldn't, of course, but it didn't change things.
It didn't change the history.
Suddenly not caring for rules or protocol, rudeness or propriety, Severus stood from his chair and departed from the house. She might have nothing left at Hogwarts, but the school was all he had.
~~~
By the time everyone had departed, night had fallen. Good-byes were terse from some, and drawn out from others. The Weasleys had been the last out the door, Molly Weasley particularly hard to shoo out, promising with each breath that she'd be back to check up on things. Arthur had asked endless questions about Muggle life and passing as a Muggle, and the two sons had wanted to know everything about American women.
As the door had shut behind the last of them, with a notably missing Severus, Dea turned to face Dumbledore. "It's not always like this," she stated quietly, meaning it as a question but unable to phrase it as such.
"No, it is not," he agreed. "But we have just lost one of our best, and recruiting someone of quality is a morale booster for them." With a wave of his wand, he unconjured the extra chairs back to their original locations. "The boy, Harry, will be coming soon." He raised his eyes as though searching the sky, though they were under a solid ceiling. "The battle is nigh, Dea. I thank you for your contribution."
"Don't thank me just yet," she said weakly.
He smiled kindly, then Disapparated with a pop, leaving Dea very much alone, and wondering how she had come to be so.
The quiet of the house pressed upon her, the weight of the evening pouring onto her shoulders with it, and she felt her entire body droop. She considered calling out for Remus, trying to determine where in the large house he had disappeared to, but her lips wouldn't form his name. Her independence wouldn't lean.
Sighing, she trudged up the stairs, withdrew her wand and chanted quietly. "Light for me, light from thee, show me which rooms empty be." Several doors glowed a sedate orange and she slipped into one of them, curling up onto the bed fully robed. She'd slept in many a place worse than this, and so it took her only instants to fall asleep from the exhaustion of the night.
And when a wolf crept through the partially open door to lie down at the foot of her bed, she never stirred.