I can't take you that way.
I'm going to lead your life astray.
You may find the bed you lay
Is nothing but a horse's sleigh.
--
Dinner Invitation
--
Their romance hadn't begun innocently.
It had begun in the Weasley Burrow's backyard, two weeks after Sirius' death, up against a taller, shadowy portion of the garden wall. Both awkward, both dangerously depressed, both completely and utterly smashed—they would have gone through all the disastrous motions if Molly hadn't come out just when Lupin had managed to command his stumbling fingers to loosen Tonks' bra. Molly had stared at them with flared, angry nostrils, breathing harshly because of–
"– such indecency! In MY house, and after I invited you both to join us for dinner! There are children here for Merlin's sake! Oh, what would –"
Foggily, Lupin remembered telling Molly quite plaintively to calm down. He should have stopped there, but he continued, in a deceptively clear, reasonable tone, that they weren't disturbing anyone, were they? It was dark, they were hidden, and hadn't he been ordered to help Tonks cheer up a bit just over an hour ago? Of course, he quite ruined the effect of the act by choosing that moment to attempt to step forward where he lost his balance and went sprawling to the grassy ground while Tonks, an arm thrown over her exposed chest, toppled over with hysterical giggles.
By that time, Molly was hollering at them, Arthur had ventured out to see who his wife was yelling at this time, and a few of the Weasley children and Hermonie were in the doorway with sleepy and bewildered looks on their faces. The children couldn't see what was actually occurring because Lupin was now sitting up on the grass, pants and shirt mercifully in place although mysteriously missing his robes and shoes, and Molly had moved to block Tonks from their view while stooping to pick the large bottle of –
"– fire whiskey! Of all people, Remus! I would have thought that you would have enough sense to know that does absolutely nothing! Honestly, you're supposed to be the intelligent one; what are you doing sticking your hands –"
Arthur took that as his cue to speak very loudly and herd the children back to bed with the unconvincing phrases about letting adults to their business.
"Hey!" Lupin managed to get to his bare feet and make peace motions with his hands while looking drunkenly indignant; "You know, some people consider that technique to be a work of art! I mean, well, there isn't… Hey, I shouldn't be arguing with you about this. Tonks and I are quite old enough to drink and swear and do animal things all we want! I mean, if you wanted us to be quiet or to go somewhere else, you could have just come out here and nicely said so."
But when they'd both turned around to take this idea to Tonks, Tonks had apparently gotten dressed and had gone. In the morning when she dropped by, it turned out she hadn't been drunk at all, but she had had to relay the entire night's experience to Lupin word for word, play by play, because he'd been so intoxicated he couldn't remember any of it. And Remus had clenched his hands in shame and horror (at night, in the moonlight! Him—drunk! What if, oh, Merlin, what if?) and told her he was very, very sorry, but they could never work.
Why? Because he was dangerous.
Why? Because he was always tethering on the poverty line.
Why? Because he was older and he was worn and he had lost so much that he couldn't bear to loose anything else. But, of course, he didn't tell her most of that.
She had stared at him, long and hard, and he knew at once that fire whiskey really didn't do anything to help sort things out.
The children remained confused after waking to see their former professor slumped and silent on the couch, Tonks upset and more clumsy than usual in the kitchen, and both Molly and Arthur in thoroughly exasperated moods. The later confused them the most because it was rare that Molly and Arthur were plainly exasperated about the same thing.
Then Amelia Bones had turned up dead and Lupin came very close to loosing his careful control not to grab onto Tonks for dear life when he ran, his head exploding marvelously, into the kitchen to devour The Daily Prophet's article.
Because someone good was dead.
Because he felt the hate bubbling up again, ready to devour his soul, more cancerous than any poison.
Because she—this one, his mind had screamed—was too precious to lose because everyone who touched Remus Lupin was doomed to be hurt.
No, Lupin thought ruefully, their romance hadn't begun innocently at all.
--
Sentomegami
2005 July 18