Warning: OotP spoilers! Harry Potter belongs to the lovely and talented J.K. Rowling; I own nada.
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Chapter 1
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We're the same and
you don't even know it
We're afraid and we try not to show it and you're
Tired and I am too so there's only one thing you
Can do you've got to hold me ~Nina Gordon
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They tried to talk to him. Everyone, that is. He was running out of grateful smiles for the "If you ever need to talk"s and "I know how you feel"s and "Are you okay?"s. Yes, he was okay. He was fine. His best friend is dead, his only family, the only reason that he even iwanted/i to be alive, the only reason he woke up in the mornings.
But he wasn't crying his heart out about it. It's not like he'd been throwing things or kicking and screaming or even having nightmares. Not really. He wasn't denying his best friend was dead. Sure, his worn, beaten robes fit even more loosely on him than it had before. And he was paler. And didn't smile anymore. But he woke up in the mornings. He did his job for the Order. That was enough, wasn't it? He was fine.
"Are you okay, dear?" Remus glanced up from his thoughts, and vaguely saw Molly's worried face. iNO/i, a part of him wanted to scream, iNo, I'm not/i.
"Yes. I'm fine. Excuse me," he mumbled indifferently as he left the kitchen table, his dinner untouched, trying not to feel guilty for brushing Molly off so coldly.
He ran to his room, and shut the door behind him. He panted, feeling safe, feeling protected from those sorrowful eyes and knowing voices.
"I'm fine," he whispered, to no one in particular.
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She stared after him, his quickly retreating back, his forced gait, his clenched fists, his cold meatloaf and warm pumpkin juice. "He needs to talk to someone," she said in a small voice, as she stared down at her own dinner, which she was triumphant to declare, was almost half eaten, and the rest rearranged on her plate to look as if she had been famished.
She heard a sigh, and looked up at Kingsley's weary face. "He just needs some time to himself," he said in his deep voice, a voice that made everything sound sincere and comforting.
"He's had time. He needs to talk to someone," she heard herself repeat, "He'll kill himself holding it all in." She was surprised at herself for saying this, surprised she had managed to notice so much about him, when it seemed for the past month, the only thing on her mind was that night at the Ministry. The night that Sirius…
"Stay out of it, Tonks," she heard Moody say gruffly, "Just leave him be."
Can't anyone else see he's in pain? Was she the only one who sees his dead, hollow eyes? The increasing specks of gray in his hair, of darkness under his eyes, of lines on his face?
"Right," she said. "I think I'll go to bed early. Good night." She left the table slowly, and trudged up the stairs, her mind wild with thoughts, but her legs feeling like they'll buckle at any moment and leave her crippled and useless.
She stopped outside Remus' room, not realizing she had. She knocked, not knowing what she had to say. Her heart rattled inside her chest, not understanding why.
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Wouldn't Remus and Tonks rock together?
Should I continue? Please review if you have the time!