Something Radiates – Chapter 3

The Conversation

It had been four days since Remus' release from St. Mungo's, but he had scarcely been seen around Headquarters. Instead, he had taken to spending hours at a time locked up in his bedroom with one of the Blacks' many yellowing books. When desiring a change in surroundings, he adopted Sirius' idea of hiding in Buckbeak's room. Although the hippogriff proved to be a rather impossible conversationalist, time spent with him was less lonely, all the same. Remus could not Disapparate from the house, due to his injuries that were still in the process of healing, but he would rather starve than endure another painful minute of, "All right, Remus?" sympathetic head shakes, and, in particular, the angry tuts issuing from Molly's mouth.

However, hunger proved to finally outweigh Remus' pride and, when it was well past midnight, Remus crept down the stairs, mindful of the sleeping portraits decorating the corridor walls. Just as Remus made to turn the corner, he heard voices and stopped short. He could have sworn he had just heard his name. For once, he was thankful that his animal-like hearing abilities were still at their sensitive point, due to the waning moon. Wedging himself between a cabinet and the wall, he listened, shielded by the dark.

"I don't know," said Arthur in a low voice, "He won't come out of his room –"

"Except to visit the hippogriff," added Molly scornfully.

"Ah yes," he conceded, "But how do you propose we approach him?"

"We don't," Moody replied in a rough voice, "He's a man of pride. Approaching him would just drive him off even more."

"So then we have to wait for him to approach us? How's he going to –"

"SHH!" hissed Molly.

"All right," added Kingsley in his low voice, "Our problem is going to be keeping Remus safe now."

"Suppose so," said Arthur, "If he stays at Headquarters, he'll be safe."

"If," Molly emphasized, "We're assuming he does stay."

"If we tell him the truth –"

"For heaven's sake, Arthur! You think Death Eaters chasing after Remus is going to be enough to keep him from leaving?" She paused. "It happened to Sirius and it will happen to Remus, as well."

"Molly –"

"I thought he was different – we all did. Thought he could keep his head –"

"We have no right to judge," Kingsley reminded her, "He's lost everyone."

"He has us," said Molly in a quiet voice.

"It's not the same."

"But –"

"Right," Moody interrupted, "Let's get back to the problem, shall we?"

Arthur sighed. "Look, of course he'll be upset, but he's – he's a logical man and he will understand. They're going to want revenge. He's killed one of Voldemort's most loyal supporters," Molly shushed him, but Arthur went on. "That won't go unnoticed. He can't -"

At that precise moment, a thud coming from the hall, where Remus was hiding, made the group suddenly fall silent, as well as almost startle Remus out of his hiding place. Remus watched the figure lift itself from the ground and turn the corner, but it was not until she spoke that he realized who it was.

"What are you talking about?"

"Remus," said Moody plainly.

"Really?" Tonks asked thoughtfully, "That's odd."

"What's odd?"

"Well, it's just that you lot here are discussing Remus, when you could just talk to him directly."

"Well," Moody reminded her, "He hasn't come out of his room, has he?"

"Actually," she said squarely, "Remus is just around the corner, over there."

He could almost hear the smug smile on her lips as an awkward silence fell upon the group. One by one, each mumbled hasty excuses to leave and, with a loud "pop," left Tonks alone in the kitchen, sipping tea.

-

When Remus finally dragged himself from his hiding place, he paced his bedroom, pausing only to stare blankly from the second-story window as dawn broke out against the night sky. Swallowing became difficult. So, he had killed Bellatrix. He was not sure how to feel. He supposed feeling satisfied was not completely appropriate, considering the fact that he had killed someone. But, by all rights, he should not have been feeling what he was feeling at that very moment – remorse. How could he feel guilty for the murder of a woman who had tried to kill him? All personal threats aside, though, this woman was the paradigm of evil. She tortured the innocent into insanity, murdered his best friend…

Sirius, he reminded himself, you did this for Sirius.

The guilt eased, just a bit, at that thought. He had avenged his late friend – something any self-respecting man would have done for his best friend – something Sirius would have done for him.

Indeed, he had been questioning her fate ever since the night he had left the hospital. He had not been able to bring himself ask, though, for he did not want to seem at all satisfied by her fate. In a way, he realized bitterly, overhearing that conversation had been an asset, although, he also could not help but feel like a child, being smothered by overprotective adults. Molly was right, though. He was not planning on remaining idle in that murky house. He did not wish to suffer the same fate as Sirius – where only the sweet release of death had freed him of his confines.

Hatred suddenly mingled with guilt, and he felt as if something very heavy had been placed upon his chest. He sat down at the very edge of his bed, closed his eyes, and took in a few deep breaths, counting to ten before letting the air out of his lungs once again. The last thing he needed was to have this looming over his head for the rest of his life, and yet, he did not know how to stop dwelling on all the death and betrayal that had plagued those close to him. Remus was not cut out for war. He would much rather sit in a comfortable chair with a steaming cup of tea and read one of his favorite books. He longed to feel at ease with life once more, but knew that his days of carefree innocence had ended long ago.

Remus was jostled out of his thoughts by a soft tapping on his bedroom door. He sighed. What did they want at this hour? He wondered if pretending to be asleep would send whoever was on the other side of the door the message, but, after a moment of silence, the knocking became more insistent. With a groan, he rose from the bed slowly, still aching from his injuries, and opened the door.

He was not really surprised to see Tonks on the other side. In fact, he had been expected her to visit sooner, but, ever since her first hospital visit, she had been careful to avoid any conversation with him that went beyond the formalities of greeting. However, this time, she smiled warmly at him and asked if she could enter his room. Stepping away from the door, Remus allowed her entry and, to be polite, took the tray of steaming tea she had been holding. Tonks sat down on the moldy chair across from his bed. Remus placed the tray carefully on his bed-side table.

"Don't mind yourself, it's got an anti-spilling charm on it." She grinned. "I've learned to always do that the hard way. Spilling hot tea on yourself is anything but fun."

He smiled and nodded politely, sitting down warily on the edge of his bed. She reached over and handed him a cut of tea, as well as some biscuits from a plate on the tray.

"Eat," she commanded, "Don't think for a second I haven't noticed you skipping meals."

He nodded and, at a loss of anything else to do, began to nibble on a biscuit. She smiled at him over her teacup. They drank in silence for a few minutes, studying each other when they thought the other was not watching.

"It's late," Remus said suddenly.

Tonks looked down at her watch. "Actually, it's quite early."

Remus allowed his eyes to stray to her wrist and he smiled a bit. The watch had a hot pink leather band, with a metallic pink face.

It suits her perfectly, he decided, amused.

"Very interesting watch."

"Thank you! It was a gift from my dad. Wicked, isn't it?"

"Indeed."

Silence again. Remus stuffed an entire biscuit into his mouth, willing himself not to choke, just to give him something to do, aside from stare at Tonks. He knew she had a particular reason for visiting him, and it was not just to bring him tea. He wished she would just come out and say it.

"So," he asked, rather bitterly, "Here babysitting, then?"

"What?" asked Tonks, surprised.

"It's all right, you can admit it – you've got to look after old Lupin - don't think he can keep his head anymore…"

"Remus –"

"It's all right, Tonks, really," he forced a smile. "I dare say I don't blame you."

"You're cracked Remus. I'm just here to talk."

"You've been avoiding me all week; why come talk now?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "That's not fair Remus. You left me with a lot to think about, that's all."

"So I did," he mused.

"Look, – it's not that I blame you for wanting revenge, but, well – I can't say that the fact that you were willing to die doesn't hurt."

"I suppose it does. I'm sorry, Tonks."

"No, you're not."

He frowned. She was right, of course. He wasn't sorry. She would be better off if he had died. They all would have been. No use trying to care for an old werewolf, after all, especially not one that had been hurt so many times.

"Did you mean it?" she asked quietly.

"Mean what?"

"What you said…in that letter."

"That I care for you."

"Yes. That. Did you mean it?"

He paused, thoughtfully. "Yes."

Silence fell upon them again. Remus gulped down his remaining, cooled tea, purposely avoiding her eyes.

"I care about you, too, you know."

He smiled slightly, but did not meet her gaze. She continued:

"We all care about you. It's for your own safety, the precautions."

"Stop."

"But –"

"Just leave it."

"Remus, don't do this."

He raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"Push us away."

"I'm not."

"You are. We care about you. I care about you…a lot more than you realize," her voice dropped to a whisper, "I can't bear the thought of you…trying to –"

"Tonks."

"What?"

"Good night."

She paused. "What?"

He stood up and opened the door. She seemed confused by his abrupt end of their conversation.

"I said, 'goodnight, Tonks'." It's late – or early – and you should sleep."

She struggled to gain her composure. "Right, well - you know where to find me. Goodnight, Remus!"

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Then, she left, closing the door behind her. Remus placed a hand to his cheek and sat down on the bed absently, only realizing, two minutes later, that his cheek was still tingling from her kiss. He dropped his hand from his cheek hastily. He rubbed a pillow against his tingling skin, hoping to forget the feeling of her lips against his cheek, disgusted with himself.

There was a lot he would not allow himself to think about today.

A/N: Heh, sorry, I know I'm being slow about this, but, well... I enjoy dragging things out. I guess I'm just annoying like that. ;D Thanks again for the wonderful reviews on the previous chapter. They really made my week. And, as always, much love to my beta, Yen, for being the bestest friend a gal like me could ever have. TBC...