Phases of the Moon
Tonks had expected to see Remus again. They never could go long without running into each other, intentionally or unintentionally. But she would never have predicted what she'd find one early morning at sunrise when she answered the pounding at her door.
It sounded like someone was trying to break the front door down. Tonks dragged herself out of bed. It was still dark. She couldn't imagine what someone would want at this hour, but it sounded urgent.
She found a pair of slippers and a bathrobe, both of which had belonged to her mum, and put them on over her nightgown. Then she grabbed her wand (just in case), and hurried down the stairs to the door.
"I'm coming! I'm coming!"
The whole door shook with the pounding, but stopped after she'd turned the lock. Whoever was on the other side must have realized that they'd gotten her attention. She pushed back the safety bolt, grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.
"Remus!"
Worse for wear didn't even begin to cover it. His clothes were ripped, his hair was mattered, and he was covered in blood. Some of it was dry and some was fresh. His right leg looked really bad. She didn't know how he could manage standing on it.
"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I didn't know where else to go . . ."
He collapsed.
"Remus!" she rushed to his side, not paying any notice to the pink color in the sky, signaling that the night was over and the sun was rising. The full moon had passed.
She shook him. "Remus? Come on, Remus." She didn't get any response. "Remus! Oh, God, don't do this to me!" Tears obstructed her vision.
She took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. She couldn't panic. She couldn't help him that way. She just had to remember her auror training. But the death of her parents and the thought that she might lose Remus along with them prevented her from thinking too clearly.
She half dragged, half carried Remus into the house. He groaned as she propped him up against the wall. She glanced at the cut above his right eye. It wasn't bleeding, but he'd need stitches or something. At least he was alive . . . for the moment.
"I'll be right back," she promised as though he could hear her.
She hurried into the bathroom, opened the cupboard and began gathering all that she could into her arms. Her father had never been very good with spells when it came to healing, so he'd kept the cupboard well stocked just in case. She took gauze, bandages, medical tape, the first-aid kit, iodine, Band-Aids, Neosporin . . . anything and everything she could find. She grabbed a few towels as well and then ran back to Remus, dumping her load at his feet.
Tonks wished Remus were awake. His strength was something she had always admired. He was in bad shape now, really bad shape. But she hoped that maybe, just maybe, if he could wake, then some of that strength would transfer to her so she could help him through this. But she was alone now, all alone.
She started on his leg first, using her wand to rip the pant leg even further so that she could assess the damage. She grimaced from her sympathy pains. How did he manage to do this to himself?
She waved her wand with a wide sweeping motion. "Scourgify!"
The blood vanished from Remus's skin and clothes. His leg wasn't as bad as Tonks had thought. She quickly applied pressure with a towel as fresh blood began to flow.
She reached for the bottle of iodine and stopped. What if he was allergic to iodine? Her mother had been.
She stood up. "Hold on." She headed for the bathroom again. She'd only be a moment. Oh, why hadn't she thought to grab it before? "I'll be right back."
She started tearing franticly through the cupboard, knocking things to the floor. "Peroxide, peroxide, I know it's in here." She rummaged through the objects on one shelf, then another, and another. "Oh! Where is it?"
Seconds were slipping by. How long had she been? One minute? Two? Five? She still couldn't find it. She had wanted to clean the wound, but she knew she couldn't waste anymore time here.
She ran back out to Remus and continued to place pressure on his leg. She began to bandage it when she realized that his breathing was coming in soft, pained gasps.
She moved forward and began to unbutton his shirt. "Oh, Remus."
It wasn't too bad, but it didn't look too good either. The left side of his chest was scrapped and bruised. At least, it wasn't bleeding. She gently touched the bruised area. Remus gasped sharply but didn't wake.
"Sorry," she muttered.
He'd probably broken something. She reached for her wand when she noticed his arm sleeve was soaked in blood. Ripping the sleeve to get to the wound faster, she found a large gash running nearly the length of his forearm.
Panic threatened to overtake her. His wounds were extensive! But she forced herself to pull together. Remus was counting on her. She couldn't panic.
She applied pressure to his arm, but she sensed that there was something she was forgetting. Come on, Tonks, think. Basic muggle skills. What were you doing when dad was explaining this to you? Elevate the wounded area. That's what she should do. No problem. She'd just get a pillow and . . . what about his arm?
She decided to lay Remus down, wondering as she moved to do so if she should just put him on the couch. She placed a hand on his back and touched something wet. She pulled her hand back . . . blood.
It was just a few scrapes, nothing major. No need to panic. Keep it together.
But then Remus started to shake.
That's when the panic took hold. She had no clue what that meant or what she should do. She touched his forehead. He felt cold. Despite the weather, she didn't think that was a good sign.
She knew then and there that she couldn't do this on her own. She needed help. She needed it or he was going to die right here in her arms. She wouldn't let that happen. She wasn't going to lose him like she'd lost her parents.
She made her decision, grasped Remus's good arm and disapparated.
In a flash, Tonks was inside St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
"Someone help me!" she screamed.
It was amazing how a team of healers were with her in two seconds flat. One healer conjured a stretcher. Another, a rather unfriendly looking healer, took Remus from her to lay him on the stretcher. It was all very confusing as it happened so fast. Yet another healer came up to her and asked what had happened.
"I-I don't know," she lied, craning her neck to keep Remus in her sight. They couldn't find out what Remus was. They'd throw him out if they did, and all because of that stupid new law Scrimgeour had gotten passed. But she'd bicker about the law later. Right now Remus desperately needed medical attention. "He just showed up on my door step."
"Do you know each other?" asked the healer.
"He's my . . . my brother," she lied again. She knew a thing or two about hospital policy: family first. "W-what's wrong with him? Why is he shaking like that?"
The healer turned to look at Remus. "He's gone into shock." He muttered under his breath. Tonks didn't think it had been meant for her to hear. He turned back to her. "You don't have any idea what might have happened?"
"Morgan!" the unfriendly looking healer yelled, looking up from Remus's body. "We need you over here!"
"No," Tonks answered. "Haven't got a clue."
Morgan thanked her quickly and rushed over to join the other healers at Remus's side. They put their heads together to whisper about something. Morgan looked over his shoulder at Tonks.
She tried to keep as innocent a face as possible. Fear sent a chill running down her back. What would happen if they refused Remus treatment? What would she do then?
Morgan turned back to his colleagues and shook his head. "We don't know that for sure."
There seemed to be some discrepancy. Tonks didn't understand how they could be arguing when a man was dying right in front of them. The unfriendly looking healer was careful to keep his voice low while making wild hand gestures as he talked.
Morgan reprimanded him. "Vorderman! We can't just . . ." His voice trailed off and Tonks couldn't hear him.
There were some more whispers, and then all four healers started down the corridor with Remus.
"Wait!" Tonks shouted as she ran after them.
Morgan broke off from the group to stop her.
"I just want to-"
"You can't come with him," he told her.
"But I-"
"I'm sorry," he said. "But you can't." He turned and ran to join his colleagues, leaving Tonks standing in the corridor and feeling completely helpless.
"Miss? Are you alright?"
"Huh?"
"You're bleeding."
Tonks looked down at her hands. She was covered in blood . . . Remus's blood. "Oh. No, it's not mine." She continued to stare at her hands. How could she not have noticed before? She should probably wash up.
She found a bathroom and received a shock when she looked in the mirror and realized she was walking around the hospital in her nightgown and her mother's bathrobe and slippers. Not to mention she was covered in blood from head to toe. Thank goodness there weren't many people here at this time of day.
She began to scrub her hands. A young witch scrutinized her with concern from the other sink. Tonks paid her no attention.
Werewolf Protection Act my arse, Tonks thought.
It was more like a law that protected against werewolves. All it did was open up more discrimination. Saint Mungo's was the perfect example. They weren't offering treatment to werewolves. They could do that now. If Hogsmeade decided they didn't want werewolves in their village, they could ban Remus from entering. It was extremely unfair and it was all Scrimgeour's doing. He thought that was what the public wanted.
She watched the blood from her hands flow in a steady stream down the drain and thought of that forensic science her father had been so fascinated with. Wizard or not, her father had still been a muggle born, so Tonks had grown up with plenty of muggle influences. What had he told her about blood evidence once? It never went away, that's what he'd said. You could scrub for a lifetime, but investigators could mix some chemicals and still find it. That's how it worked for muggles. She wondered if the same rules applied with magic. Could investigators still find blood on her clothes after she would magic them clean? On her hands? Could they still find Remus's blood? Even if he didn't make it and she woke up crying in the middle of the night because he'd trusted her and she'd failed? Even if-?
A hand grabbed her wrist.
Tonks looked up into the face of the young witch who'd been standing next to her.
"I think you got it all, dear," said the woman gently.
Tonks looked down at her hands. She'd rubbed them raw. "Yeah, I . . . I guess so."
It was three hours before Tonks was allowed to see Remus, but it felt like much longer. After she'd charmed her clothes clean, she hadn't been able to sit still. She'd spent most of the time pacing, chewing on her nails, and ironing her face with her hands. She looked up at each healer that passed, even stopped and asked a few of them if they knew anything. None of them ever did.
"Excuse me, miss?" the plump blonde witch called from behind her desk marked INQUIRES. "Miss? Over here, please."
Puzzled, Tonks walked to the front of the line, squeezing in front of a man whose son was foaming at the mouth. "Excuse me. So sorry. Yes?"
"They told me to look for a woman with pink hair," she said, eyeing Tonks's hair as though she didn't quite care for it. "Who was it you came in with?"
"Remus Lupin," Tonks replied a little nervously.
"Remus Lupin," the blonde witch muttered, running a finger down her list. "Yes, first floor, last door on the left, private ward."
"Private ward?" repeated Tonks, surprised.
"Next!" ordered the blonde witch.
Tonks was pushed aside as the man led the boy with the foaming problem up to the desk.
First floor. Private ward. Tonks's head was spinning. The first floor was for creature induced bites. Why would Remus be there and why in a private ward unless they already knew what he was? But if they did know, why hadn't they thrown him out?
She walked almost in a daze to the room. As she entered, a wave of relief washed over her. Maybe it was because he wasn't covered in blood, or because his hair and clothes were clean, but Remus looked so much better.
Tonks pulled up a chair beside the hospital bed. Remus was still asleep.
"I know you're not going to be happy with me for bringing you here," she said, tears of relief filling her eyes. "But you chose to come to me, so it's your own fault if you're upset."
He could yell at her for hours after today and she wouldn't mind. But she knew he wouldn't yell at her. She'd never known him to yell, not at her at least.
"I'm glad you're okay," she continued. "You really scared me for a moment there."
She didn't get a response from him, but then she hadn't really been expecting one. She watched him for a while, content to watch him sleep peacefully forever.
He uttered a wordless sound. His eyes were still closed.
"Remus?"
She moved in closer to him. He twitched and she brought her face down to his. He made another sound. She grabbed him by his good shoulder and shook him gently. "Remus."
He woke with a start and then immediately jumped at the sight of Tonks's face so close to his.
"Easy," said Tonks. "You were dreaming. Are you alright?"
He looked a little confused. Remus ran a hand over his face.
"I'm fine," he assured her. "I just . . . where are we?"
Tonks sat back in her chair. "Saint Mungo's. I know you didn't want me to bring you here," she said hurriedly before he could protest. "Otherwise you would have apparated here instead of to my place. And . . . while I'm flattered you have so much faith in my muggle healing abilities . . ." She crossed her arms. "I don't really share that faith."
"You would've been fine," he told her.
"I'm not so sure."
"Listen, you-" He stopped himself. He could feel an argument coming on. He and Tonks used to argue all the time and after how well they'd been doing lately, he really didn't want to go there. "They're going to throw me out. You know that, right?"
"I think if they were going to throw you out, they would've done so already. No, listen." Remus had shaken his head. "They put you on the first floor and in a private ward. They must know what you are by now or they wouldn't have-"
BANG!
The door to the ward flew open. In walked a healer carrying the clothes Remus had arrived in (now magically repaired) and waving a paper wildly in the air. Tonks recognized him as Vorderman.
"You, sir," said Vorderman, pointing a finger accusingly at Remus. "Are a menace!"
Tonks stood from her chair, anger suddenly flarring up insider her. "Now wait just one minute!"
"Nymphadora," Remus warned.
"Get out!" Vorderman continued, spit flying from his mouth.
"You can't just-!"
"Nymphadora."
"Out!" Vorderman threw Remus's clothes into his face.
"That was totally uncalled for!" Tonks yelled.
"Nymphadora."
"I said, OUT!" Vorderman was up in her face now.
"You have no right to-!"
"Nymphadora." Remus tried in a harsher tone.
Tonks spun around. Remus had swung his legs over the side of the bed. His clothes were clutched under one arm. She realized he need her help. She shot Vorderman a nasty look before rushing to Remus's side.
Vorderman made sure they left, watching them as they walked through the door.
"That was completely uncalled for," Tonks muttered as they headed for the restroom around the corner. "There was no reason for him to-"
"You shouldn't have irritated him."
"I was sticking up for you!"
"Well, don't!"
Tonks jumped. Remus had never raised his novice at her before.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but Sirius and James never understood it either. It's better to just avoid confrontation when dealing with people like that."
"Remus, he had no right-!"
"He had every right." Remus assured her.
"Just because that stupid law passed doesn't mean it's right! We can fight against it!"
"Who's going to fight against it, Nymphadora? You and me? More than ninety percent of the werewolf population's joined with Voldemort. Scrimgeour knew that law was what the public wanted. That's why he supported it. You'd be hard pressed to find someone who didn't like it."
"The Order doesn't like it." Tonks pointed out.
"Which is about fifty against five million people. Excuse me." He stopped using her as a support and hobbled into the one-person restroom to change his clothes.
Tonks just stood there. She felt like she'd been slapped in the face. The funny thing was that Remus hadn't even touched her.
She cleared her throat. "Do you need some help," she called. "Or are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he called back. He didn't sound like it, but Tonks had the impression he was a little bit irritated with her.
He emerged a few minutes later fully dressed. He left the hospital clothes in a bin situated at the side of the door and the two of them started down the long corridor together in silence. They'd only gone about half way when a shout erupted behind them.
"Wait! Stop! Please, wait!"
Tonks turned around and spotted a healer running toward them steering a wheelchair. "Remus, I think we should see what he wants."
The healer was out of breath when he reached them. Tonks recognized him as Morgan. He tapped the chair with his wand, and the breaks locked into place.
"Hospital policy," he gasped as he gestured toward the chair.
"I don't need-"
"Nonsense, Remus." Tonks said. "Sit down."
Remus sat and Morgan tapped the chair with his wand again.
"I'd like to apologize about Vorderman's behavior," he said as he began pushing Remus down the hall. "He forgets sometimes how this hospital is run, and he . . . well, let's just say he doesn't like anyone who's . . . different." He eyed Tonks's hair and let out a breath. "I better take my time getting back. I can hear him going on about you already."
"Hopefully I gave him more than my hair to go on about."
Remus shook his head.
Morgan smiled. "That was you? I heard the commotion. Sounded like you really went off on him. If he pushes a few more wrong buttons, I might just do the same myself."
They walked in silence for a while.
"It's a shame what the hospital is doing," Morgan continued. "I don't approve of it, personally. I don't believe anyone should be denied medical treatment. But the owner . . . his son was attacked by a werewolf not too long ago, almost bitten. So when that law came out, he acted on it."
"I bet he wouldn't be so discriminating against werewolves if his son had been bitten," said Tonks angrily. "I wish he had been."
There was a screech as Remus put his hands on the wheels to stop them. Morgan hadn't expected it. He, Remus, and the chair nearly toppled over, not that Remus had noticed. He fixed Tonks with a stare that made her blood run cold.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly as she realized what she'd said. She covered her mouth with her hand as though she'd just uttered a swear word. "I didn't mean it. I was just-"
"You don't wish that on anybody," said Remus, slowly uttering every syllable.
"I'm sorry," Tonks repeated. She really was. "I didn't-"
Remus turned away from her and let go of the wheels. Morgan didn't know what else to do so he continued pushing the chair. No one spoke.
"Do you know how to use a phone?" Morgan asked Tonks when they reached the exit.
"Yes."
Morgan pulled a card out of his pocket and gave it to Tonks. "Here." he tapped the card with his wand and flipped it over to show her the number on the back. "That's my home phone. You can reach me faster that way - I'm horrible about checking my owl post before I leave. You know, just incase you need anything in the future. I can't guarantee anything but . . . maybe I can help."
Tonks nodded and took the card from him. "Thanks."
Tonks helped Remus over to the couch once they had arrived back at her place. They didn't speak to each other. She noticed that he seemed to be staring at something over her shoulder.
Tonks turned around and received a shock as she noticed the blood on the wall and floor along with the items she'd taken about of the cupboard. She waved her wand and the blood vanished.
"You're mad at me, aren't you?" she asked nervously, not looking at him.
"I'm not mad."
She turned to face him. "You were."
He nodded. "I was, but-" He'd grabbed the blanket draped over the couch and winced.
Tonks rushed over to him and took his hands in hers. His palms were red and raw from grabbing the wheels of the chair. He'd burned several layers of skin right off.
"I'm sorry," she said.
He shook his head. "That was my own stupidity. I should've pulled the brake instead of grabbing the wheel."
"But I upset you," she insisted. "I made you hurt yourself and I didn't even mean I what I said."
"I know you didn't mean it," he told her. "And I know you're sorry, which is why you're forgiven. Just watch what you say next time."
She nodded, still staring at his hands. She gently kissed each one before giving them back to him. "Ancient remedy."
"Right," he said skeptically. He chose to skip the "we can't be together" argument. He was too tired to deal with it at the moment. He reached for the blanket again. "Do you mind?"
She shook her head. "Get some sleep."
The sun was up and shinning, but she was ready to go back to bed herself.
She gathered up everything on the floor and put it back in the cupboard. When she went to put away the things that had fallen from the shelves, she found the bottle of peroxide on the floor. She'd missed it in her haste.
She walked back out into the living room and was about to go upstairs to bed when Remus groaned and rolled over in his sleep.
Remembering how peaceful he'd seem earlier, she sat down next to him to watch him for a little while. She couldn't get over how much better he looked, and then she noticed that the gash above his eye was no longer there.
She moved closer to him. She was sure it hadn't just been blood. There had really been a gash, but it wasn't there now. It must have been healed magically, but that meant he hadn't done it to himself . . .
She wondered if anything else had healed.
Slowly and carefully so as not to wake him, Tonks began pulling up the sleeve of his left arm. Remus stirred for moment. Tonks froze in place, holding her breath. She waited for a few seconds, but he didn't wake up. She pulled the sleeve up to his elbow. The gash wasn't there.
She pulled the sleeve back down his arm and began unbuttoning his shirt. There was no sign of a wound there either. But she'd noticed other scratches that hadn't healed, which meant they must have been self-induced.
Puzzled, she buttoned up his shirt and turned to his leg. Had he been faking it earlier? She rolled up the pant leg and let out a long breath of air. No, he hadn't been faking it. He'd nearly torn his leg off.
She went into the kitchen and picked up the phone. It stuck her at that moment how surprising it was that Healer Morgan had a phone. Perhaps he was muggle born, or maybe he'd grown up with a muggle born parent like herself.
She dialed the number and waited. Five rings and she got the answer machine.
"Hey, you've reached Morgan. I'm not in right now. You know what to do."
Beep.
"Hi, um, this is Tonks. I don't think you got my name. I was the one with the pink hair. . . . I had a question. Um, give me a call when you get the chance."
She left her number and hung up the phone. She didn't have anything better to do and she was dead tired. Tonks shivered at the thought. No, she wasn't dead tired. She was just tired. She went to bed.
Tonks woke to the sound of the phone ringing on the bed stand. She rolled over rather unenthusiastically and picked it up.
"Hello?" she asked sleepily.
"Is this Tonks?"
She yawned. "Y-yes, who's this?"
"This is Morgan. You had a question?"
"Oh!" Tonks quickly pulled herself into a sitting position. "Yes, I did."
There was the sound of laughter from the other end. "Did I wake you?"
"How'd you know?"
"You sound kind of out of it."
"Yeah, sorry." Tonks rubbed her eyes. "I was catching up on my sleep."
"No need to apologize." Morgan assured her. "What was your question?"
"Well," she hesitated for moment, listening to see if there were any signs that Remus was awake and might walk in on the conversation. She didn't think he'd appreciate that she hadn't asked him about what was going on before calling Morgan. "It's just that I couldn't help but notice that some of Remus's wounds had healed."
"Ah, yes. That was the problem. You see, we were able to heal some of his wounds quite easily, but others . . . Well, Vorderman was certain . . . It's 'Remus,' right? Anyway, he was certain Remus was a werewolf. I wasn't willing to take the chance that he wasn't. It just didn't make sense to me why some wounds could be healed and others couldn't. Vorderman insisted we put him in a private ward, and I wasn't willing to argue. We had a background check done and . . . well, I guess Vorderman got to it first."
"So . . . you're just as clueless as I am?" asked Tonks.
"Yep."
"And you don't have any idea why-?"
"Nope, not a clue. But I take it you didn't ask your brother about it?"
"What? Oh! No, I . . . I didn't."
"I didn't think so. I'd ask him about it though, if I were you."
"Yes, I'll do that as soon as he wakes up. Thank you."
"No problem. Oh, and, um, Tonks?"
"Yes?"
"I don't blame you for lying."
"I - well. . . you wouldn't have treated him if you'd known what he was, right?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Goodbye, Tonks." The line went dead.
Remus was sleeping peacefully when Tonks ventured downstairs to check on him. She decided to leave him that way. After all, he'd been up all night while she'd only been forced to awake a few hours earlier than she would've wanted too. She would leave her questions for later.
Tonks realized she was starving and walked into the kitchen to find something to eat. She opened the refrigerator and pushed aside the milk to get out a container of chicken noodle soup.
She had finally agreed to let Molly in the house when she'd visited two days ago. She'd given Tonks the soup saying, "It's the least I could do."
It was a massive container with enough soup to feed a quidditch team. Tonks hadn't eaten any yet. Her mother had made chicken noodle soup from scratch whenever Tonks hadn't been feeling well. But now Tonks decided she should eat it. It was time she moved on. It was chicken noodle soup for crying out loud! It shouldn't have any sentimental value! Besides, she didn't want it to go bad and it was sure to be better than the take out she'd been eating.
She glanced at the other contents of the fridge as she removed the soup; half a box of pizza a few days old, a half eaten carton of beef and broccoli she'd ordered from that Chinese place the other day . . . She couldn't keep living on this stuff. She needed some real food, but cooking had never been her strong point and she hadn't felt like putting in the effort lately.
She poured herself a bowl of the soup and put it in the microwave to heat it up. She succeeded in burning her fingers when she took it out, forcing her to seek the aid of a couple potholders.
She sat down at the kitchen table to eat alone, but she didn't really feel alone. Remus was in the next room. The house had felt so cold, so empty that it had weighed down on her. But the knowledge of Remus's presence lifted that weight somehow, making the mood of the house feel light and promising.
And of course, homemade chicken noodle soup always helped. It was warm and tasty and went down smoothly. Tonks grabbed a second bowl before putting everything away and going upstairs to her room to change her clothes.
While she was searching through the closet, she found a cane resting against the far wall that had belonged to her father. Most of her parents' belongings were in their bedroom, but a few of them had somehow found a way to her own (including her mother's slippers and bathrobe).
Nothing in her room had changed. Same bed. Same carpet. Same paint on the walls. Her personal things had gone when she'd left, and they'd come back with her return. The only difference was that the belongings she'd left with where not the same one's she'd brought back. The room was the same but she wasn't.
It was fitting in a way. The house was the same, but its inhabitants had changed. Her parents were gone, and she had taken their place. Remus was here, but for how long she didn't know. A part of her wished he could stay . . .
She grabbed the cane, thinking Remus could use it for a while, and started down the hall. She stopped at the master bedroom, her parents' room, and slowly opened the door. It was amazing how empty the room seemed now that they were gone.
She couldn't stand to be in the room for more than a few moments. Her parents had died in there, both of them. Kingsley had spared her the details and the sight, but she didn't know if thanks were in order. Not being able to see it with her own eyes left it all open to imagination.
Each day was a new beginning, a new test for her. She told herself it was just a room. It was all in the mind. There was nothing different about this room than any other one in the house. That's what she told herself, but that didn't mean she was listening.
She took a step inside. Then another and another. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. And then it hit her. The fear touched her and began to take hold. The walls began to close in. Images danced across her mind.
A dark figure.
Flashes of green light.
Her parents' cold and lifeless bodies.
She couldn't breathe. The room began to tip and then spin. Tonks was on all fours, crawling, dragging herself back the way she'd came . . .
She lay on her back in the hallway, gasping for air.
A grievance counselor. Work would pay for one. Tonks had refused. Molly was troublesome enough.
She was checking on Remus for the umpteenth time when Molly's head appeared in the fireplace.
"There you are, Tonks, dear."
"Molly!" Tonks sat down hurriedly in front of her, hoping to block Molly's view. She could only imagine what Molly would say if she were to spot Remus. "W-what a surprise!"
"You said I was welcome to check in on you from time to time."
"Well, yes," said Tonks. She had agreed to it during the last visit. "But I thought you'd at least give me some kind of warning."
She shifted a little to the left. It was impossible to tell if she was blocking Molly's view successfully or not.
Molly simply smiled at her. "Would you mind moving a little to the right, dear?"
"What?" Despite the relationship Tonks had with her, there was no denying that Molly was a mother. It was simply habit for Tonks to try to hide from her what she would hide from her own mum. Tonks had always had great success when it came to hiding things from her mother.
"Come now," said Molly. "I have seven children. I know when someone is trying to hide something from me."
Then again, Tonks's mother had only had one child.
But why hide anything from Molly? Of course, there was always that annoying obsession she had with getting Remus and Tonks together . . .
"Well, if you must know." Tonks moved aside reluctantly so Molly could see. "Remus showed up at the door this morning. H-he was in pretty bad shape. I took him to St. Mungos."
"St. Mungos?" asked Molly, surprised. "But they-"
"I know, Molly, but . . ." Tonks got chills as the events of last night came back to her. She moved from the fireplace to stand where Remus was sleeping, searching for reassurance that he really was okay. "I-I didn't know what else to do. You didn't see him. I thought . . ." Her voice trailed off. He'd scared her so badly. It was going to take a while for it to wear off.
The house suddenly felt too quiet, the way it felt before Remus had arrived. She wished he were awake and talking, anything to make that empty feeling go away.
Molly stepped from the fireplace to stand next to Tonks. "What did you think, dear?"
Tonks swallowed. "I thought - I was afraid I'd lose him." She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that were threatening to come through. What was wrong with her? She was stronger than this. "He collapsed on the doorstep . . . blood everywhere." She wiped at her eyes. "It seems so silly now. I mean, he's fine. Why am I acting like this?"
Molly put an arm around her shoulders and led her into the kitchen. "There, there, dear. You've been through a lot. There's nothing wrong with-"
"But I'm not normally like this!" said Tonks, wanting to scream but keeping her voice low so as not to wake Remus.
"You don't normally get hit with a blow like losing both your parents in a single moment, do you?" said Mrs. Weasley reasonably, easing Tonks into a chair.
Tonks sniffed and nodded.
"There, see? This is all perfectly normal." Molly looked behind her. "Now, about Remus. You could've gone to me for help."
Tonks sat thunderstruck. "I . . . didn't think of that." Why hadn't she thought of that? It seemed so obvious.
"It doesn't really matter now." Molly gave a wave of her hand. "Like you said, he's fine. But how long will he be staying?"
Tonks shrugged, still flabbergasted at her ignorance. "I don't know."
"Well, I suggest you figure it out. This would the perfect time to-"
Tonks blinked, taking in Molly's words. Then she shook her head. "Oh, Molly."
"I just happen to find it convenient that after all that time I spent trying to get the two of you together he decides to go to you when he happens to need a little help."
"Molly-"
"I just think it would be foolish not to take advantage of the situation!" There were stars in her eyes.
"And just what exactly do you have in mind?" asked Tonks, keeping her voice hushed. "Seduction?"
"Well, that would be a start."
"Molly!" Tonks gaped at her. "I was joking!"
"Love is a serious matter." Molly lectured. "Now, if you wish, I know a way to get my hands a love potion that would-"
Tonks stared.
"Just a little one." Molly assured. "I'm sure you could find a way to slip it to him. It would . . . you know . . . amp up the desire-"
Tonks stood, horror-stricken. "I don't want your bloody lust potion!"
"Love potion." Molly corrected. "And it's not mine. I just-"
"Whatever!" Tonks fought to keep her voice low. "I don't want it! Okay? Thank you, but no. Remus and I-"
"Is there a problem, ladies?"
Both women froze. Molly turned a shade of red that rivaled her hair. However, Remus couldn't see it because she had her back to him.
"Remus," said Tonks uncertainly, looking around Molly. "H-how long have you been standing there?"
Remus looked from one woman to the other as he leaned against the doorway. Tonks wondered how he'd managed to make it by himself, and then she noticed the cane in his hand. She must have left it by the couch.
"Not long enough to hear whatever I wasn't supposed to hear," he said finally.
"Well," said Molly, her blush gone. "I'll just leave the two of you to . . ." She trailed off, but Tonks didn't miss the hidden meaning and she doubted Remus had either.
Molly brushed by Remus and went to the fireplace. He watched as she prepared herself to floo home. It wasn't just Molly who was hell bent on getting him and Tonks together. The whole Order was in on it. But Molly had been the most irritating; shoving Tonks in front of him at every chance she got until it came to the point where even Tonks had gotten annoyed with it.
Remus watched Molly leave in a blaze of green flames before turning back to Tonks who was covering her mouth with her hand.
"So, um . . ." She laughed, embarrassed by the situation and unable to contain herself any longer. "I'm sorry - How are you feeling?"
"Better, thank you." He hobbled over to the table with the aid of the cane and took a seat.
"You must be hungry. Here-"
She hurried off to get him a bowl of the soup she'd had earlier. She also grabbed the left over carton of Chinese food for herself.
"This is really good," he said minutes later after she had heated it up for him.
"Oh, I didn't make it," she said as she put the carton into the microwave. "Molly did."
"Ah." He stared at the soup suspiciously.
"Don't worry." Tonks told him. "She didn't put anything in it. I had some earlier."
He seemed to take her word for it. Tonks came over to sit across from him.
"So . . . how's you're arm?"
He paused. "Um . . ."
"It healed, didn't it?"
"Yeah." He pulled back his sleeve as though to make sure. He looked at her. "How did you know?"
"I . . . checked," she admitted. "What happened?"
"I . . ." He ran a hand through his hair. "Can't really . . . remember."
"Is that usually a problem?" she asked curiously. "Remembering?"
"Well, it's kind of like . . ." he shook his head. "You don't really want to know what it's like."
"I asked, didn't I?"
Remus studied her. She met his gaze, unfaltering.
He sighed. "Alright." He looked down at his hands. "When I . . . change," he said slowly. "It's like all rational thought is stripped away. I'm left with two basic needs: Survival and . . ." He stopped.
"Food?" Tonks suggested timidly.
"That's the nice way of putting it." He was starring ahead of him now, but Tonks knew he wasn't looking at anything in the room. He still held his spoon in his hand, slowly rotating it between his fingers.
"When I change back," he continued. "And start to remember, it's like a dream . . . a very real dream. I can never remember everything. But I remember most things like . . ."
"Nearly chewing your leg off?"
Yes, that he remembered. That and . . . there was a flash of something yellow . . . and a strange taste in his mouth . . . He knew that he hadn't made it to the Shrieking Shack. He'd stopped at a pub and - for whatever reason - he hadn't made it to his final destination. Why?
The answer eluded him. Along with the explanation as to how he'd sustained such injuries. It was so strange. A piece of the puzzle was missing.
"Remus?"
He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I really don't remember how I-" He caught a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. He paused to turn his attention to the microwave. "Um . . . Nymphadora?"
Tonks followed his gaze. She cursed loudly and jumped out of her chair. Blue lightening was flashing in the microwave. The timer went off by the time she put her hand on the door handle. She yanked the door open . . . The top of the paper carton was on fire and all because of the thin metal handle attached to it.
She tried to blow the fire out but only managed to make herself look like a blowfish while doing so. Remus chuckled to himself from the table.
"Shut up, Remus. It's not funny."
"Don't you know not to put metal in the microwave?"
"Well, yeah, but I didn't think that little bit would matter." She pulled out her wand and pointed at the flames. "Aguamenti!"
Remus continued to laugh. She sprayed him with a jet from her wand.
"Hey!"
She smiled "Then stop laughing at me."
"I'm not laughing at you."
That was the thing with Remus; he accepted her. Anyone else Tonks knew would've shaken their head or rolled their eyes if they'd been witness to her little lightening show. Molly would've given her a lecture about how she should be more careful. But Remus could find it amusing because he understood that was just the way she was.
He watched as Tonks sat down at the table and began eating out of her burnt carton. The thing with Tonks was that she was refreshingly odd. No matter how many walls she managed to walk into, things she managed to trip over, or stairs she managed to fall down, she just smiled and kept going. He liked that about her.
She could be quite optimistic and Remus suddenly realized that he was usually the opposite. He would normally look at a situation, pick out the worst that could come of it, and decide that if worst came to worst . . . he'd deal with it. He hadn't always been like that . . .
He hoped that the deaths of Tonks's parents wouldn't change her the way that Lily's and James's death had changed him . . .
Remus shook his head, ridding himself of the memories. He wasn't going to worry about last night. He'd figure out what had happened sooner or later. Considering it was the first time he'd actually stopped to think about it, he wasn't too worried that he couldn't remember. Besides, there were other things he had to worry about at the moment.
"Listen," he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I hate to take advantage of your hospitality, but . . ." He tapped his leg. "This would be hard to explain to Marcus." He paused. "I-I was wondering-"
"Feel free to stay as long as you need," she said, saving him the trouble of asking. She was more than happy to let him stay, anything to keep him with her a little longer.
He wasn't sure how he felt about the prospect of staying with Tonks. He could remember a time not too long ago when he and Tonks hadn't been able to be alone together for five minutes without arguing. They'd been doing remarkably well lately, but he wasn't sure how long the peace would last.
"I'll have to let Marcus know I'm here," he told her. And he'll probably wonder why.
"Tell him-" said Tonks as though she had read his thoughts. "Tell him I need you here for . . . for emotional support. He should believe that."
Marcus was watching music videos on the television when he heard the phone ring. He jumped up from the couch and rushed to pick up the phone before the answering machine.
"Hello?" he called into the receiver.
"Marcus, it's me."
"Remus? I was wondering what happened to you. Is your mum sick again?"
Remus paused on his end of the line. How long had he been using that excuse? Since school. He really needed to change it. But he'd never seen the sense of getting rid of something that worked.
"Uh, no," he said. "Actually, I'm with Tonks."
"Oh," said Marcus shortly.
Remus wasn't sure what that 'oh' meant, but he decided not to dwell on it. If Marcus didn't like the idea of him and Tonks being together, that was Marcus's problem, not his.
"Listen," he said hurriedly. "I'm going to be staying with her for a few days. I can't say exactly how long."
"Can I ask why?"
Remus was glad Tonks had supplied him with the answer to the question he'd known he'd receive. "She asked me to come over for emotional support."
"Oh," said Marcus again, sounding relieved this time. "How's she doing?"
"She's doing okay."
They talked for a few minutes more. Then Marcus hung up the phone and went back to the TV, but his mind was elsewhere.
They're just friends. Marcus told himself. He had to admit that he was jealous. He wished he were the one staying with Tonks. It seemed a shame that such an opportunity was being wasted on a man who fell silent under the suggestion of a girlfriend.
But he couldn't be angry with Remus. Without him, Marcus would never have met Tonks in the first place and maybe Remus would be the link to bringing him and Tonks together.
With that happy thought, Marcus turned back to the television. He had no way of knowing that the pink haired woman he found attractive was a witch or that his friend and roommate was not only a magical being but creature as well. And when he retired to bed that night, he was completely ignorant of the Knight Bus roaring past his window.