Chapter Eleven

And Loved the Sorrows of Your Changing Face

For Merlin's sake, when will they learn not to ring the bloody doorbell?

Remus opened the door irritably to find Andromeda Tonks, wearing an apprehensive look and clutching a scrap of parchment. She flashed her stellar smile, and slipped quickly inside the house. Remus walked back to the shrieking portrait, preparing to slam the curtains shut, but Andromeda stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder, nudging him aside.

"Hello, Aunt Wallburga."

"Blood traitor! Slut! Whore! Filthy, defiled, Mudblood-loving little strumpet!

"Well, a whore, am I? That's rich, Auntie. Tell me, did you ever determine which of the Bettany brothers actually fathered Regulus? But I suppose even adultery is acceptable if the results are pureblood."

"You dare to set your muddy feet into my house and then insult me? Tainted, foul…"

After a wave of Andromeda's wand and an inaudible incantation, Mrs. Black was utterly silenced, though her livid face still screamed silently

"If I remember correctly, the kitchen is down this hall." Andromeda walked briskly toward the kitchen, leaving Remus grinning in her wake.

"Oh, brilliant, you've made the coffee already," she said as she reached into the sideboard for a pair of cups. He poured for both of them and she sat down at the table, looking up at him expectantly.

"We, er…have tried all sorts of Silencing Charms on that portrait, but none of them worked, just made her louder."

"Well, that one is more of a curse, and a bit dodgy, too. If she had been a living being it would have melted her vocal cords. I highly doubt you would have been taught that one at Hogwarts." Her face settled into what could only be described as a self-satisfied smirk.

Remus stared in shock. "Right, then. Will it be permanent, one hopes?"

"On a living being, yes, but these paintings do tend to self-repair. I give it about twelve hours." She sipped her coffee and sighed in appreciation. "This is just what I needed. I never did trust a man who makes a weak cup of coffee, Remus. I think I may just like you."

A very brief flash of sadness clouded Remus' eyes, which she misinterpreted.

"I am sorry about losing my temper back there. I always hated that old woman, and she took me back to a bad place in my life. I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm impressed, Andromeda, not offended." He grinned and sat down across from her, pulling out a stack of parchments and a larger stack of computer printouts. The trouble is, I like you too. And I hate the fact that I've hurt your daughter.

"Anyway, let's get down to business, shall we? I spent several hours last Wednesday evening at a DWP office, going through their computer records. You understand how that works, right?"

"Yes, my father in law…well, yes." She paused, and changed the subject. "Don't tell me you are a hacker, Remus?" she teased.

"Hardly, but I know enough to get around. So I found a large number of National Insurance numbers that matched the names and ages of those two Muggles, and in many cases, their employment history. It would be a lot easier if those orphanage files had had their birth dates, but I have found that Muggles keep even worse records than the Ministry of Magic does. More paperwork and less information, really. At any rate, this allowed me to get an idea as to what part of the country they settled in."

"Well, it seems you've been busy. I'm sorry I had to cancel on you at the last moment like that."

"Oh, it's not a problem. You would have been forced to keep watch while I muttered in front of a computer screen. No fun at all, really."

"Now I've lost my big chance to perform as a lookout. You know how I love the intrigue."

"You'll get your chance soon enough, I'm sure," he said wryly, and then added, with a grin, "You're needed, Mrs. Peel."

Her eyes lit up and she said, "Why, Remus, you watch television?"

"My father did, regularly."

"My father-in-law loved that programme." She smiled wistfully and got up to refill their coffee cups. "So, back to the project. What would you like me to do?"

"Well, I have a few addresses of people that I have been able to find in public records. We could do more research to see if they are orphans, or we can just go directly to them and ask. I thought you might prefer the latter. I have a plausible cover story, I think. One of us could be searching for our birth parents. It seems to be the best way to get sympathy and cooperation quickly."

"That is a brilliant idea, Remus. I think, based on the age factor, that it should be me. Where shall we go first?"

"Surrey, I think."

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By the time they returned to Grimmauld Place, the sun was nearly at the horizon. Remus invited his partner in for tea, and they sat at the table, discussing the utter failure of their leads.

"I suspect that when we do come across one of these two persons, it will be rather obvious to us. We still don't know if he cursed them or just scared them, but I am inclined to believe the former. And, if that is the case, we will either be able to sense the residual magic surrounding them or they will sense it from us, and react noticeably."

"I don't think either of us thought it would be quick or easy. I suspect that he made it harder to trace them, just like he expunged the records of his own existence in the Muggle world. I must say though, I am disappointed. I really needed something good to happen today." She took a bite of her scone. "Oh, heaven! Did you make these, Remus?"

"I wish could say I had, but mine would be nearly inedible. Molly Weasley sent them over."

"I really must meet that woman. I have been hearing about her for years, of course, and am positively dying of curiosity. I had enough trouble with one child; I can't imagine raising seven children, Gryffindors at that. And she still manages to find time to feed and worry about everyone else that she knows, according to Nymphadora. She said that when she was going out with one of her sons, Molly actually sent over a Christmas gift. Can you believe that? Hand knitted, too. She'd never even met my daughter at that point. Many women wouldn't even do that when they actually have a legal daughter-in-law, would they? Mine certainly didn't."

"Yes, Molly is unfailingly thoughtful," said Remus, mentally perusing the list of Weasley boys to determine which one he needed to kill. Charlie, most likely, but possibly Bill. Maybe even one of the twins. Percy couldn't have gotten past the pink hair, and Ron clearly prefers uptight bookworms. Oh, sod it all, this is stupid. This is the wolf staking its claim and the man has no right to. Charlie would be good for her, if it had been him. In fact, perhaps it would be a good idea to encourage a reconnection the next time he comes to visit.

He realized that Andromeda was staring off into space, as preoccupied as he had been. Only she looked rather…broken. He had seen something like those pain-filled eyes before, while he was in the process of lying through his teeth to her daughter. He reached across the table to touch her hand.

"Andromeda? Is there something wrong?"

She apologized for her distraction, and said that it had been a rather difficult week.

Remus was suddenly reminded of the twitch of discomfort that he had felt on Wednesday, when he had received her owl. She had said that she needed to cancel due to a family emergency. After an initial twinge of panic, he had told himself that if anything had happened to Nymphadora, the Order would certainly have discussed it. But she had said that she would see him in a few days. She might have been referring to that post-transformation visit, which now seemed like a blissful dream. Since then, however, she had not contacted him once.

"Would you like to talk about it? Is everyone in your family safe?"

"Yes, well…no, actually. My father-in-law died on Wednesday."

He sucked in his breath and uttered the usual platitude, "Oh, I'm so sorry." But, inside, he remembered Nymphadora's oft-stated declarations of devotion to her 'Grandpa Tonks'. He thought how bloody unfair it was that this family had suffered another loss so quickly.

"Was he ill?" The platitudes continued, though he was genuinely concerned.

"Well, yes, as a matter of fact, he was. He had this…horrible degenerative muscle disease. Ted had been able to help a lot; in fact, a normal patient would have died years before he did. He'd had it for nearly twenty years, and only had to spend the last one in a wheelchair. But he died suddenly of a massive stroke, and none of us were really prepared for it."

"You cared for him a great deal, I think."

"I loved the old codger. He couldn't have been more unlike my family. He was earthy and coarse, and yet had a brilliant mind and the largest heart I have ever encountered. He welcomed me with open arms when my family tossed me out like the garbage. I'm going to miss him terribly. But Ted…Oh, Remus, he's just devastated. He was so sure that he would be able to invent some potion that would keep Alfie with us forever. And now, all of his colour is gone, just like Nymphadora, when Sirius died. I can't reach either of them, and I feel so helpless.

He reached out to put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm really very sorry. I have found that people often say remarkably stupid things at times like these, so I will not try to offer you words of consolation. But if you ever need to talk, or a shoulder to cry on, please let me know."

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Two hours later, he'd managed to find, with some difficulty, the door to Nymphadora's flat.

He hesitated for a few seconds, then knocked on the door softly. For a very brief instant after she opened the door, all the love that she felt was there for the world to see. But the moment passed, and her face fell into an expression of anger and irritation.

"Remus! Well, what a shock. You'd better come on in, before the whole wizarding world knows that I am entertaining dark creatures."

He looked at her with confusion and hurt in his eyes.

"Your words, Lupin, not mine. I was just trying out a bit of sarcasm. I guess I am not quite the girl to pull it off, am I? Well, are you coming in or not?" He entered her flat warily, and she locked the door behind him. He looked around with interest.

"I would apologize for the mess, but at the moment, I don't really give a gnome's ass what you think of my place. What are you doing here?"

"I, err…thought…Well… I'd heard about your grandfather, and I wanted to come by and see how you were doing."

Glaring at him, she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Oh, so you are here in your Sir Galahad capacity, is that it, Remus? Well, don't worry, I am fine. I have my family to help me through this one."

"Your mother said that you have taken it hard, and that you are distant…"

"For crying out loud, please don't make any assumptions about me based on what my mother tells you. Yes, I understand that it is pretty fucked up that you got assigned to her. I would think, however, that you would do me the courtesy of ignoring any unauthorized information she throws your way."

Taking a tentative step towards her, he said, "You told me that you wanted our friendship back, and I had been considering it. But I wondered why you didn't come to see me like you said you would. Tonight, I found out that you had a death in your family. I came here because I thought you might like someone to talk to. Now I don't know what I've done to upset you since the last time I saw you, but whatever it is, I'm sorry."

She let out a frustrated growl and sighed. "Come in and sit down. I'll make some tea, or would you like something stronger?"

"Tea, please."

She disappeared into the kitchen, giving him a chance to look around her sitting room. It seemed bright and cheerful and soothing all at the same time. He sat down on an electric blue plush sofa and picked up the book that she had tossed over the arm. A battered Jane Austen, he noted, but not one he remembered reading. He glanced at the page it fell open to.

All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one, you need not covet it) is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.

"I did come by to see you," she said, interrupting his perusal.

He looked up to see her standing with the tea tray, watching him suspiciously.

"I came by after the full moon."

"Yes, I know that. And I meant to thank…"

She interrupted him. "How did you find my place? You didn't ask Mum, did you?"

"No," he said quickly, "I asked Mad-Eye."

"Oh, Remus," she groaned. "Did it ever occur to you to send an owl?"

"I was in a bit of a hurry."

"Did you even stop to think that he might wonder why you had to see me at this time of night? Now he'll definitely wonder if something is up. He already suspects I have a crush on you."

"He knows, Tonks."

She lowered her voice to a horrified whisper. "What exactly does he know?"

"Nearly everything," he admitted.

"Oh, bollocks, Remus, of all people to go and confide in!"

"It wasn't on purpose, I promise you. He's just…bloody nosy. Oh, and while we're on the subject, I am certainly not thrilled that Molly Weasley is nagging me about finding a nice girl to take care of me. Oh, and how she might very well be right under my nose."

She gave him a dirty look. "She's nosy too, you know. And she caught me on a bad night. Just…for Merlin's sake, please don't let my Mum get wind of this, okay? She's ruthless."

"You're telling me. I think I'm safe there, although she had me worried at first. The notion seems to be inconceivable to her."

While he sipped his tea, she stared out the window for a few minutes. Finally he broke the uncomfortable silence. "I am really very sorry about your grandfather. I think I remember you talking about him quite a bit. How are you coping?"

"I'm fine," she said shortly.

She didn't turn away from the window, and he took the opportunity to get a really good look at her. The vibrant, cheerful Nymphadora that he loved had become a pale and gloomy shadow of herself. But there was still something undeniably beautiful about her, a delicate, porcelain loveliness.

"Is there going to be a funeral?"

"Why, Professor Lupin, are you offering to be my date?" Her eyes bored into his and there was an angry challenge in them.

"I hardly think that would be appropriate. But if you would really like me to be there as a family friend, I would be happy to…"

"It was a joke, Remus."

"I got that. And it was a rather tasteless one. Could you please explain to me why you are so hostile to me this evening, Tonks?"

"Tonks!" she spat out, and stood up to walk toward the window. She turned toward him and leaned against the wall. "I don't want you here, Lupin."

"I got that, too. Care to tell me why? I wonder what could have changed since the day you saw me in the library."

"Nothing's changed with us, that's just the bloody problem. We are still in the same positions on the opposite side of the fence. But then something bad happens to me and you come rushing over to fix it. And I don't want you to! It's not your job to put me back together. I can do it myself."

"I never implied that you couldn't…"

"But I scare you a lot less when I am down-and-out, isn't that right? You can afford to reach out to me now, because you can tell yourself later that it was the right thing to do. That I needed you. And how, exactly, did you mean to comfort me? Were you just going to let me talk it out? Or maybe you thought I would like to cry on your shoulder again? Could it be that you were planning to give me the full treatment like last time, Remus? Because I want to make it clear to you: I am not interested in another pity fuck! So why don't you just get the hell out of my flat!"

He stood up angrily. "You've got the wrong idea about me, Tonks. I didn't come here tonight to…to…"

"Didn't I hear you joke a long time ago that you liked your women broken? That they were easier to leave that way?"

She walked toward the door and began to open it. He came up behind her in an instant and slammed it shut. She turned in surprise, and before she could even register the hungry look in his eyes, he had crushed his mouth to hers.

All the blood seemed to rush out of her head, and her legs gave way in shock. She found herself pushed up against the door, pinned by a rock-hard werewolf. While his mouth continued to plunder hers, he ran his hands possessively over her body, igniting her senses. He inserted his knee between her legs, and with surprising strength and very little gentleness he reached behind to grab her by the arse and lift her onto his thigh. Finally, he released her mouth and as she gasped for air, he growled against her ear, "I do not pity you."

He bit her neck, whispering hoarsely, "You are not broken."

His hand slipped under the bottom of her jumper, and he slid it up and over her bare breast. He groaned, "I have never wanted someone so badly in my life."

It wasn't a declaration of love, but for Remus, it was saying quite a bit. Her heart swelled with emotion and her body ached with need. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him voraciously.

He pulled away from her and knelt on the floor, unbuttoning and tugging off her denims while she clawed at his hair. His final thread of sanity snapped when he ripped her knickers away and felt how unbelievably ready she was for him. He feasted his way back up her body, tearing at his own clothes while she whispered urgently. Finally, he buried himself inside of her, slamming her against the unyielding oak while she screamed his name.

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By the time he came to his senses, the moon was high in the sky, and they lay entwined on her bed in the darkness, covered in sweat. Tonks rolled away from him and stretched contentedly, like a lazy cat enjoying a sunbeam. She's bloody beautiful, he thought, and tried to push away his rapidly returning apprehension.

"Food."

"Hmm?"

"Definitely need food," she said, as she kissed his cheek and slid off the bed. She quickly located a kimono, and slipped it on while she padded toward her bedroom door. A moment after she disappeared through it, she popped her head back into the room.

"Do me a favor, won't you, Remus?"

"Yes?"

"Stop thinking."

"What?"

"Well, you can think, but just promise not to think about us, or…this." She pointed to the bed. "At least until I get back. You can think about the Pride of Portree's chances at the match tomorrow night, or house-elf rights, or even Defense Against the Dark Arts, but just don't start analyzing this until I get back."

He laughed and said, "I'll try."

Soon afterwards, he could hear her banging around in the kitchen. It seemed to be a good time to fetch his clothes and wand from the sitting room. After slipping on his boxers and folding his clothes, he returned to her room, where he lit a fire and a few candles. His curiosity got the better of him and he examined her bedroom, recognizing a few of the items that he had removed from her Grimmauld Place room. There was one thing in particular he was hoping to find: a framed picture that he had not had the heart to look at too closely that morning. It had occupied a prominent place on her dresser then, and he wondered if it would still do so.

The dresser was covered with framed photographs, but aside from one of her house Quidditch team, they were all of her family. There were several of a younger Nymphadora embracing a large, red-faced old man with a shock of white hair. His humor and vitality shone through his clear blue eyes, as did the love he felt for the bright-haired little girl.

A silver picture frame was lying behind the others, face down. He knew which one it would be well before he saw the familiar image. It was a wizard photograph, taken on the previous New Year's Eve. Nymphadora had brought over a few bottles of champagne, several ridiculous hats, and her father's camera. They asked Kreacher to take pictures of them throughout the evening, but this was the only one that he had not managed to sabotage. It had turned out perfectly though. Nymphadora grinned and blushed madly, pressed between Remus and Sirius while they each kissed her cheek. He took a closer look at his own unguarded face, and could just spot the nervous smile before the kiss, and the nearly imperceptible flash of longing afterwards.

He sighed and returned the picture to the dresser, not in the same position, but facing out toward the room. After wandering around and looking at some of the other objects on display, he sat down carefully on the edge of her sumptuous bed. He found himself shaking his head at the memory of the wanton abuse they had inflicted upon it.

"You're thinking, I can tell," she said with a note of accusation in her voice. She was standing in the doorway levitating a tray of fruit, cheese and wine in front of her.

"Actually, I'm thinking about this bed."

"Ready for another go already, Remus? I thought you said you were an old man?" She grinned and set the tray on the rug in front of the fire.

"I am an old man, and you're going to make my abused and aching body sit on the floor in order to eat, are you?"

"Sorry; house rules. I may be willing to shag on that bed, but there is no way I will bring a glass of red wine onto it. It's the last gift that Grandpa Tonks gave to me." She handed him a glass while he joined her on the floor next to the fire. They were both hungrier than they realized, and within ten minutes had reduced the contents of the tray to an apple core, a few bruised grapes, some broken crackers and a couple of unidentifiable crumbles of cheese.

Sometime after that, he took a deep breath and broke the silence. "Listen, I want to apologize for my behavior…"

"I sure as hell hope you are apologizing for the canal and Moody's back garden, Remus, because if you apologize for anything you did tonight I swear I will hex you into oblivion."

"Er…well, I'm not exactly sorry it happened, but I was not entirely civilized…"

"You never heard me complain, did you?"

"You're bruised."

"So are you."

"I shouldn't have…"

She growled in frustration. "Stop it right there, Remus. This is not a trap. I am not asking for any sort of a commitment right now. I just want to enjoy this. I want you to stay with me tonight, and I want to talk about anything but the state of our relationship. And I probably will want to shag you at least twice more before I have to go to work tomorrow. Do you think you can manage to give me that?"

"Twice more? Well, that's asking an awful lot," he teased. He reached over and pulled her onto his lap, settling her hips between his legs and wrapping his arms around her. He rested his back against her fireside chair, and she leaned against his chest contentedly. He kissed her on the cheek and said, "Tell me about your week, Nymphadora."

"You really don't want to know."

"Yes, I do. Tell me what you were doing when you heard about your grandfather."

"You really don't want to hear about that."

"Yes, I really do."

"All right then. I was just finishing up on a particularly gruesome crime scene."

"What happened?"

"A couple of werewolves bit a boy and killed his father."

He stiffened and whispered, "Oh, no." And she still let me touch her after that. He let his arms fall to the floor. She picked them up and placed them back in their original position around her midriff.

"Yeah, it was fairly…bloody. So anyway, I got back to my desk, and before I could even get to the showers, my friend Tina gave me an urgent note from my parents. Then I went to my Grandpa's house, and they told me he had died. He was by himself when it happened. Dad found him."

"How awful." He tightened his hold on her.

"Yeah, he's not doing so hot, my Dad."

"That's what your mother said."

"She's not doing so great either."

"It takes some time…"He reached up to run the back of his hand along her cheek, and turned it over to smooth her hair.

"Yeah, I guess it does. You lost both your parents, didn't you?"

"Yes, years ago."

"Did you cry?"

"I did."

"My Dad hasn't."

"Sometimes it takes a while." He leaned his head forward to kiss her cheek and changed the focus of the conversation, "I understand he tried to find a cure for your grandfather."

"Believe it or not, he's nearly as good a Potions master as Snape. He's always messing around in his basement on something or other."

"Is that where you got that thing you used…"
"Oh, yeah, that was for muscle repair. One of us went every week to apply it to Grandpa. It kept him walking for a long time. I thought it ought to help you, too. The only trouble is it makes you sleep all day, but I thought that since you usually do that anyway…"

"It was amazing."

"Well, I rather enjoyed applying it." She grinned and turned around to kiss him. "Of course, you might have preferred Mad-Eye. He was willing to do it, I think."

"Dear Merlin, no!" His hand reached up to touch her cheek and he kissed her back, gently and thoroughly. Sighing, she settled her head back against his chest. He nuzzled her ear and said, "Tell me about your grandfather."

"Oh, he was a hoot. He always told it to you straight, never approved of people who beat about the bush. He was a plumber, you see, and one day he came up with some sort of a toilet valve that conserved water. So he made a bit of money off of it, and my grandmother decided that she wanted to be a lady. So she spent all his money on this house that was too big for them, and bought all of this posh furniture, and he never again felt comfortable in his own home. He loved her madly, though, so he let her pretty much do what she wanted. But he drove her stark raving mad because he refused to turn into a gentleman for her. He wouldn't wear fancy clothes or try to change the way he talked. And she never wanted him to tell anyone that they made their money off of toilets. But he was proud of it, and would bore people to tears talking about hydraulics. Anyway, she died when I was twelve. He closed off most of the house and lived in a few rooms which I am told were decorated in the exact style of the flat my father was born in."

"And what did he think when he found out he had a wizard for a son?"

"Proud as a peacock. Absolutely fascinated with magic. He and Dad would sit around for hours just trying to figure out how things worked, magical or Muggle, and how to make them better."

He had a feeling that the best thing for Ted Tonks right now would be to spend a little time with Arthur Weasley.

"So, that bed, was it one of your grandmother's purchases?"

"Sure was. Merlin, how I loved to play on it as a kid! I used to pretend it was Cinderella's carriage."

He had a sudden vision of a pink-haired little girl, wearing a dress four sizes too large and tripping over her glass slippers. He shook his head and snorted. "I just can't imagine you playing Cinderella."

"No, I guess I'm more like Little Red Riding Hood, aren't I?" She shook a little from suppressed laughter.

He groaned and playfully punched her shoulder. She turned around and grinned at him saucily. "You know, I always did think that the dialogue in that story sounded a little too much like foreplay: 'My, what big teeth you have!' Made me wonder what else was big?"

"I'm going to have to shut you up somehow," he muttered before covering her mouth with his.

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A/N: Sorry at the inadvertent mix up of chapters 11 and 12. This chapter was a long time in coming because the first part of it got erased twice. Plus, I had a lot to say, and still had to cut out a lot of it. I hope that the release of tension and the length of the chapter make up for the delay. The Jane Austen quote was from Persuasion.The chapter title is from Yeats, and is clearly a popular choice for Tonks fics, but hard to resist. I really wanted the book she was reading to be another book, but I was dissappointed to learn that it wasn't released until October of 1996. Look for it later in the fic. The next chapter will deal with the repurcussions of the werewolf attacks, among other things. Dun Dun DUN!

Oh, and thanks for the lovely reviews. You really do make my day!