Dear Journal-
To my annoyance, no amount of begging and pleading my case could sway Moody into helping me get out of hospital. He was stubbornly convinced that it was the best place for me, and said he wouldn't hear of it. He said he was sorry for my loss, but it was no excuse for such irrational behavior. It would be neither constant nor vigilant.
Then, as luck would have it, Moody was called away to help Dumbledore, and good old Dung showed up. I don't think I'd ever been so pleased to see him. A person of loose moral character was just what the healer ordered, and I was able to enlist his underhandedness to help me get out a little early. I morphed into another patient, while Dung created a distraction. Perfect.
I don't know what drew me to it, but as soon as I escaped from St. Mungo's, the first place that I went to was the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. Sirius had told me that that it used to be Remus's old, um, hide-a-way, so I apparated there straight away. At first, I just stood outside it. It's a ruddy old dilapidated-looking house. Splintery, faded old boards were nailed up over all the dirty, shattered windows. Rusty panels hung off at the hinges. It looks like no one had lived there for about a hundred years, it's enough to give you some serious goose pimples.
I've seen it before, of course, my friends at school had dared me to go inside. But that was when I thought it was 'the most haunted site in England', before I knew the truth. Dumbledore had it build ages ago, when Remus was in school. He was taken there for his monthly transformations, to make sure he didn't hurt anyone, and to ensure his secret. Imagine what the reaction would have been if his classmates had found out they'd been going to school with a werewolf. Poor Remus. Life must have been so hard for him. Not that this day had brought any brightness. I remembered my task, stopped gawking at the façade, and pushed my nerves up to apparate inside.
I did, and sure enough, there he was, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. I think I scared the shit out of him. He seemed quite taken aback that he would find anything human there. What happened next is weird to describe.
He looked up immediately and saw me; we both froze. I took in the state he was in after losing his best friend, his last surviving schoolmate, the last faithful marauder. He looked completely torn apart. I could tell from his face, he was touched, and at the same time upset that someone had intruded on his private display of grief. But I knew why I was there, I knew I had a purpose in seeking him out. I was worried about him, damn it. He didn't need to be alone right then, what he needed was a friend, and I needed to know that he was going to be ok. As ok as ok could be, considering that we had both just lost Sirius.
Approaching him in this state seemed difficult, but I did what came naturally to me, considering my feelings for this man. I went and sat down next to him. I put my arm around him, and he looked at me through reddened eyes. At first, I could tell he was evaluating me, judging me. He searched my eyes wearily for any traces of pity, what he would hate to see, and when he found them clean, he drew me into a silent hug that time stood still for.
We just sat on that bed, the bed he slept on as a teenager, and held on to each other, grief erasing formality, self-consciousness. My head was tucked into his shoulder and I rubbed his back. I felt his tears fall against my temple and I'm sure he felt mine. He rocked me gently, making me feel so close to him. I didn't know that grief could be so intimate. Yet it was painful, to let out the emotions that had been quietly swelling up inside me all day. I could finally weep unrestrainedly, it felt like such a beautiful release. The pair of us, it was like we had become the sole source of gravity for the other person, and without one another, we would surely fly from this world.
It was sometime after the sun had started to set before he spoke. He said he checked up on me in St. Mungo's before he came to Hogsmeade, but I was still asleep. He asked me how I was feeling and he became instantly concerned when I told him that I had Dung sneak me out early. Guiltily, he looked me deep in the eye, felt my forehead, checked my pulse, and squeezed up and down my arms diagnostically. It almost made me laugh, and I assured him I was fine. Still, he seemed to think it best that we return to Grimmauld place. Headquarters. Where everyone was going to be. For some reason I didn't want to face them. It would make it real again...I dunno.
He took my hand, squeezed it reassuringly and we apparated. Ok, so maybe I wasn't feeling totally fine, because the strain of apparating a third time made me black out, and I collapsed when we landed at Grimmauld place. I think Remus swept me up and he must have carried me to the couch in the drawing room. Dung poked his head in, which was the wrong thing to do, and Remus cursed him out a bit. Something about he nearly helped me splinch myself. That stunned me, he's usually so easy-going on his friends. But it's been a tense time for everyone. All that commotion brought Molly into the room, who looked me over. The poor woman looked as strained as I must have been. I later learned that her two youngest children were also injured at the department of mysteries, Ginny and Ron. They're both ok, though, thank Merlin. To my great relief, she determined that I didn't need to go back to hospital, and that all I needed was a long rest.
At her words, Remus's tired, weary face drew close to mine, and he picked me up once more, to bring me upstairs to sleep, unwilling to hear any argument from me. I wasn't about to issue one; I really did feel ready for bed at that point. He took me to a guestroom and set me down. He transfigured my clothes (which I had transfigured earlier from the hospital gown) into pajamas.
He looked troubled and told me that I never should have snuck out of St. Mungo's. He said he wasn't worth it and I laughed at him. It was completely worth it, I told him. Just the knowing that he was ok was merit enough. He planted a kiss on my forehead, his closeness bringing his wonderful woodsy smell, relaxing me enough to send me to the brink of sleep. He sat down in a bedside chair, and my awareness of existence came to a close for that day. He was still there when I woke up.
That was a pleasant surprise. I can't believe he spent the whole night there, it must have been terribly uncomfortable. He was still asleep when I came to, or at least I thought he was. His face was relaxed, he was leaning back in the chair, his breaths rising and falling rhythmically. I said his name, testing him, and he lifted his eyelids.
"Wotcher, Remus."
"Hmm?" He stirred. "Tonks. How are you feeling?"
"Much better," I smiled. "Much better."
We had a memorial service the following week. The whole order was there, and then some. I was late because I brought my parents.
I apparated to their house so I could hook up their flu, which they had long ago disconnected. I knew it would be hard for my mum to go there again. It was hard for me the first time back. I was late because we argued a bit. Mum never likes the way I wear my hair.
When we got there, and they found Dumbledore and started talking with him. I spotted Remus from across the room. He sat looking reflectively out of the window. Once again, I went to sit down beside him. He didn't look at me at first, but he took my hand and said, "Sirius loved you well, you know. He always said how proud you made him." Then he looked me in the eye, and they held a special warmth, as if his thoughts were light years away. I watched him with interest and he continued.
"You know, some time ago, a rather long time ago, when the four of us were at Hogwarts, spending long nights out by the lake, watching the giant squid roll by in the moonlight, he asked me that if anything were to happen to him, he wished me to look after you. I promised him that I would." He paused and stared contemplatively out into space. "He really cared for you, you know. Always thought of you as a sister. Then, just last week, before we apparated to the mission, he reminded me of that promise. And I intent to keep it."
That stirred up some feelings in me, on a day that they were already difficult to control. I wanted to tell Remus that I was grown now, and that I didn't need a guardian, but I didn't want to take away from the promise he made to my cousin. And I didn't even know exactly what he meant. On what level did he intend to uphold this vow? Up to what degree did I want him to? Was he saying this just out of remorse? It's Remus, for Merlin's sake. The man I've had a wholly unruly crush on for years. How was this going to affect our friendship? I chastised myself for letting these thoughts flood me at Sirius's 'funeral', and I decided I'd have to push all that aside for now. At what Remus told me, it touched me to know that my cousin cared for me so much. He gave me a hug and the ceremony commenced.
It's been a long time since I lost a family member. And before, it was complicated, with our disjointed relation to the family. Mum marrying a muggle, and then producing a half-blood like me didn't exactly get us invited to Christmas dinner at the Black house. Still, they were family, and I noted when one of them died. Then when I think that it was my own Aunt that killed him…she killed her cousin. How can you murder a member of your own family? What kind of family does that! None that I want to be a part of, and I've never been more glad to have been excluded from the righteous bastards. If we didn't need Grimmauld place for Headquarters, I'd burn it to the ground without a second thought. I think Sirius would have approved.
The world is a different place now than it was last week. The ministry has finally realized the truth. It's funny, but because of that, it's become more real to me. Our little underground rebellion doesn't have to be quite so secretive anymore. Well, Moody's not going to change, bless him, but at least Dumbledore can cooperate with Fudge now. Speaking of which, I found out yesterday that I'll be getting my job back. But with Sirius gone, that good news rings rather hollow.
I wonder what the coming year holds for us. Until next time, journal, I am sincerely yours...
N. Tonks