Sacrifices
A/N: It's been months since I last posted a Remus/Tonks fic here. I suck. This is a one-shot to be inserted a few hours after Christmas dinner at The Burrow. Thanks to JenniGellerBing for the beta! Reviews would be greatly appreciated!
WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE.
Remus wrapped the worn traveling cloak closer to his body in a futile attempt to protect himself against the freezing rain. With each step he took, the wind pushed back against him until every moment became a struggle to remain standing, as if the wind was warning him to stay away. But even as it howled failure in his ears, Remus pushed on, determined to find Tonks and the answers to his burning questions on this stormy night.
Row upon row of darkened storefronts passed before his eyes. The blackness of the moonless night had grown so thick that Remus was forced to hold his wand out in front of him, illuminating the stone path below his feet and the droplets of rain as they angrily pelted the earth.
Just as Remus was about to declare the mission a failure – just as he was about to Apparate to his flat for a long night of staring morosely into his fireplace, clutching a bottle of firewhiskey to his chest – he caught a glimpse of the Hog's Head in the distance, its rusted sign creaking angrily against the wind.
Remus was surprised to see her familiar form hunched over a table in the corner of the pub. He remembered vividly the night he had offered Tonks a glass of scotch and she had turned it down with a laugh. I don't drink much, she had admitted. If you think I'm clumsy when I'm sober, you should see me pissed! That night felt like it was ages ago, and, in a way, it had been: before Sirius had died, before Remus had begun living underground… before he had broken Tonks' heart.
Upon entering the pub, the two heavily cloaked customers sitting at the bar paid no heed to his sudden appearance. In a hushed tone, Remus ordered firewhiskey and tried not to concentrate on the grungy state of the glass as he took a tentative sip. The liquid warmed him, despite his drenched robes that clung to his shivering body, and he took a seat opposite Tonks. She stared morosely into the depths of her drink instead of meeting his eyes.
"What are you doing here? You do know it's Christmas?"
"Yes. Do you?"
Tonks shrugged. "I wasn't in much of a mood to celebrate."
Her refusal to look at him stung, but he pushed forward, knowing that he was entering dangerous territory; unsure of whether he would be able to leave without feeling her addicting lips against his once more. "You were missed at dinner tonight. Molly was worried about you."
"Was she?" Tonks asked vaguely, before draining the remainder of her glass with a grimace. "You know," she conituned with forced airiness, "we haven't seen each other in a while, have we?"
This time it was Remus' turn to look down at his drink. "No, I suppose we haven't."
"It was a few days after we warned Harry's Muggles not to mess with him at the station. That was six months ago, Remus. Do you remember what happened that day? You told me you were going to live with the werewolves – with the man who bit you, for Merlin's sake! And then you just left…"
"I didn't just leave," he replied with quiet stubbornness.
"No," she answered bitterly. "No. I'd told you that, if you cared about me at all, you'd stay. You didn't stay."
"That doesn't mean I don't care about you." She laughed bitterly, shaking her head so hard that her mousy brown hair covered her eyes. "I had to this for –"
"Yourself."
"No!" he hissed. "I did it for the Order, Tonks! We all have to make sacrifices!"
"And it just so happened that you volunteered for this position a day after I'd admitted my feelings for you… a day after we kissed? You were scared, Remus."
"No."
She smiled a twisted, sarcastic shadow of a grin. "So you just wanted to hurt me, yeah?"
He took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes tightly, searching desperately for a way around the truth. He didn't want to hurt Tonks, but it seemed that, no matter what he did, she would end up in pain. The price of getting close to me, he thought bitterly. But it was a question of emotional pain versus physical, and he would much rather see her depressed than find her dead. "No."
For a few moments, they sat in silence, the air heavy with unsaid words. "Did you just come here to check up on me, then? I'm a big girl, I can handle being alone," she replied in her most condescending of tones. However, the catch in her voice proved that she was anything but patronizing him.
He wanted to admit that he was worried about her, that it was Christmas and the last person on earth who deserved to be alone on this night was Tonks. And yet, all the same, he knew that she wanted no part of his concern. No, she wanted what he couldn't offer her – she wanted something real and whole; a fairytale of a life she could have with anyone but him. Why does she have to be so stubborn? he wondered with a dizzying combination of frustration and adoration.
"I hear you've been looking after Harry. I appreciate that." She didn't acknowledge his statement, so Remus pressed on. "Actually, he informed me of something very intriguing. Your Patronus… it changed forms?" He watched as Tonks clenched her jaw, the uncertainty written plainly on her face. Finally, finding no way around the already exposed truth, she nodded. "I see," Remus continued. "He said it was a large, four-legged creature."
She ducked her head in shame. "So he suspects…?"
"I don't think so. He never said what he thought it was, but I've a feeling he's thinking of another man who could transform into a large, four-legged creature, as well."
Tonks grimaced. "I was fighting off a Dementor and it took me by surprise. I didn't mean for it to happen."
"No one ever does," he agreed.
"So you've come to ask about my Patronus, then?"
"Yes… and no. Well, I… I've been thinking about you a lot. I'm – I'm worried."
"You shouldn't be."
"You're not yourself, Tonks. Molly tells me you haven't been for quite some time."
"It's just this bloody hair," she muttered, her fingers self-consciously running through the long locks.
He tilted his head to the side, examining her. "It's not just the hair. You need to move on, Tonks. Forget about me, all right?" he begged in what he hoped to be a convinced tone. "There are plenty of other men –"
"NO!" she yelled, whirling on him with a wild look in her eyes. "Don't you think I want to forget about you, Remus? Do you think I like feeling like this? Do you really think I enjoy the way I can hardly breathe when I think about you? It doesn't work like that. I'm not the one who made a choice here; you did."
"Look, you're young, you don't understand. All right, so a werewolf might seem exotic and exciting now, but believe me, a few months from now, you'll be glad you –"
Tonks shook her head. "I can't believe you think that low of me!"
"I didn't mean –"
"That just proves you're afraid."
"Excuse me?"
"A few months from now, you'll be glad," she repeated. "I'd be glad to have rid myself of you, you say."
"Not exact –"
"You're afraid to let me in because you're convinced I'm going to leave," she replied with growing enthusiasm. "But Remus, I've stuck around this long!"
"I'm dangerous. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I hurt you."
"So you're afraid to hurt me? That's still afraid," she pointed out.
"No –"
"But you're hurting me right now…"
"That's different."
"How?"
He hesitated. "You'll see… eventually."
"You act like I'm so much younger than you! In years, I guess I am. But I've seen things, Remus… maybe I haven't seen all that you've seen, but I'm not nearly as ignorant as you'd like to believe."
Remus' fingers curled around his long since emptied glass as he studied her in silence. The bartender, taking advantage of the lull in their conversation, brought over drink refills and left again without another word. Remus grimaced, regretting that the last of his pocket money would be spent on alcohol. Then again, he realized, there would not be much need for money when he returned underground; the one bright side to that otherwise dreary arrangement.
Tonks turned away from Remus slightly as she sipped her drink, facing the window instead. He took the time to memorize her profile; the way a slight pink had crept upon her cheeks, the curve of her forehead, her pointed chin, the dark bags beneath her gray eyes…
"You are so stubborn!" she exclaimed suddenly, startling him out of his daze. "Why?"
"I could ask you the very same question."
He thought that he saw a flash of a real smile, a hint of the old Tonks that had so readily laughed and smiled in his presence, brightening even his gloomiest of moments. But just as soon, it was gone, leaving only this unfamiliar, saddened woman in its place.
Feeling defeated, Remus attempted to stand, but Tonks grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward on his chair. She leaned toward him without relaxing her grip on him, and she brushed a finger against the slight stubble forming on his cheeks. He fought to resist the impulse to shudder, but couldn't avoid the way his eyes drifted closed, reveling in the feel of her touch. Her hand found its way to his chin and some uncontrollable magnetic force brought his face just centimeters from hers. Every ounce of his willpower was screaming against it, yet he couldn't help allowing his lips to slip, very softly, against hers. A tiny smile formed on her lips and she whispered, "Just let it happen."
For one wild moment, he allowed his trust to wander into feeling, into the moment, into her, and it felt utterly liberating. Their teeth crashed and tongues battled in a desperate release of six long months of yearning. Her lips traveled the length of his chin, searing against his burning skin before meeting his mouth again. Somehow, his fingers had drifted through her hair, brushed along the slight curves of her slim body, and finally settled on her hips. His mind went pleasantly blank in a way that he'd only experienced once before – on that faithful June night, when he had sat too close to her on that hot pink sofa in her flat – and all he could focus on was this dizzying embrace and the rhythmic thumping of his heart in his chest.
But then it was over. Her lips were gone and he fell, head first, back into reality - stinging, stifling. One look into her hopeful eyes sent his heart diving in a way that even the fading effects of alcohol could not prevent. It only took a few moments for her to read the remorseful look on his features; inwardly, he cursed himself for being the cause of her face to drop like that.
Remus noted the way his fingers unconsciously dug into her hips and grudgingly released his grip. She watched him with pursed lips, her eyes wide and begging. But Remus tore his eyes away, and, without another word, turned to leave. He heard the wooden legs of her chair scrape against the stone floor and turned around just in time for her to fling herself at him. Hands clasped around his neck, she brought his head down for the most passionate kiss he had ever experienced – an embrace full of wonder and longing and emotion. He knew, as he returned the kiss, that he could no longer feign indifference to the beautiful young woman pressing herself enticingly against the length of his body. She was everything he could have ever wanted; she was everything he could never have.
"I can't," he said in a strangled voice, pulling away, forcing her hands to unclench around his neck.
"You can!" she replied breathlessly.
"No." He stumbled backward a few steps, desperately separating himself from the heat radiating from her body. "You'll understand soon. Trust me," he added with a catch.
With one last glance, he attempted to burn her features in his mind – those sad, gray eyes; her bright pink lips, swollen from kisses; the way she scrunched her face against the tears – and then he was facing the cold, wet darkness of winter again.
Fin