Author's Note: The characters, of course, all belong to JK Rowling. If something from these particular scenes is familiar, you may have seen it on the LJ rtchallenge Spring Ficathon.
September
Tonks:
Joining the Order was something I had done because it was the right thing to do. I stayed because I loved it. I had expected it to be much like my work: duties to complete, dark wizards to uncover, partners to be endured. But I was surrounded by the unexpected. I had never had enough family (I can hardly consider my pure-blood snob relatives 'family'), and through the Order I was blessed with months of Sirius's company. Rather than dismissing me as a klutz who couldn't master household charms, Molly took me under her wing, and cared for me like I was one of her own children. When it became clear to her that I was not looking to be set up with one of her sons, she put all of her might (which is...mighty) into setting me up with the man I wanted: Remus.
Remus is not what I would have expected. I had been told in advance that he was the "resident werewolf" of the Order, but I also knew that he had been DADA professor, and Sirius's close friend. It was hard to connect those dots. We were paired on many missions, and I was surprised at how well we worked together. We both shared an equal concern for Sirius, and spent many evenings together at Grimmauld Place. I think it amused Sirius to watch us. It certainly amused him to try to get us paired. I'm glad it happened before we lost him.
Tonight I am studying Remus. He is gearing up to tell me something he's afraid I won't take well. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are guarded and shifty, and he nearly jumps out of his skin each time I touch him. I can't stand the tension between us, so I force him to sit down next to me and get it over with. "Dumbledore has given me a new assignment," he begins cautiously. He goes on and explains it all to me, and I am struck again with his devotion to The Cause. Remus camping out in a forest? Living with those who embody everything he hates about his curse?
I start to reassure him that it should only be for a little while, that I'll still bring him the Wolfsbane potion, wherever he is, that I will just be a Patronus away. I'll miss him desperately while we're apart, but I smile and try to put on a brave face. It could be worse. And then, it is.
He keeps speaking, "I won't be coming back to you, Tonks..."
The human body is an amazing thing. From that point on, I am physically unable to hear what he is saying. I can see him speaking and feel him softly touch my wet cheek (when did I start crying?), but I can't hear a word. I watch him leave and am promptly and violently ill.
And he hasn't come back.
October
Tonks:
It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and most of the students were out trying to enjoy one of the last warm days of autumn. Tonks heard a few students talking about their lessons. Most of them seemed to be trying to guess what the others would smell in Amortentia, and the discussions were punctuated with lots of giggling and sing-song teasing.
Tonks remembered her first encounter with the potion; she'd smelled a fresh pack of Exploding Snap cards (her favorite game to play with her Dad), her Mom's special 'out-on-the-town' perfume, and the peculiar smell of fresh mown grass combined with slightly sweaty Quidditch uniforms. She'd had lots of crushes on Quidditch players while at school.
These days, she suspected that her reaction to the potion would be quite different. She knew she'd still smell fresh mown grass, but expected that the smells of tea, old books, and aftershave would also figure into the equation: the smells she associated with Lupin. Daft prat.
November
Remus:
This was what he had been dreading: an Order meeting that was also a social occasion. The Order were celebrating Molly's recent birthday after a long, unremarkable meeting. Tonks sat on the opposite side of the room in a well lit corner, nursing a plate of chocolate birthday cake. He had done his best to avoid her, and she had stopped begging for his attention. In fact, she was downright hostile. Anyone who doubted it need only watch her eat that cake. She took many small bites, licking them slowly off of her fork, savoring each bit in her mouth before she swallowed it.
Remus was not eating cake tonight. He had to return to his mission, and the scent of chocolate would overemphasize to all the ferals that he had been with "civilised folk" again. He wanted that cake so badly that he had to force himself to sit as far away from the kitchen as possible. She knew it. That was why she had been eating one plate of cake, clearly within his view, for twenty whole minutes. With each bite, she would let her eyes flutter shut, and a look of bliss would appear on her face. She hadn't looked blissful in two months. He missed being the one to make her look like that. And now, she had found a substitute for him in that cake! Remus swallowed his wine ruefully. His current mission was something that he was required to do, whether he wished it or not. He had not, however, been required to give up Nymphadora. That was his choice, his own virtuous, self sacrificing choice. Just like not eating the cake--his choice for higher purposes. He didn't know how much longer he could resist the cake or the girl.
"Remus, dear, please have some cake. You look so thin these days," pleaded Molly. Inches from his sensitive nose was a plate heaped with moist, dark chocolate cake. He tried to refuse, but Molly persisted. He took the cake and set it on the table next to him, intending to leave it untouched. He was able to keep to his purpose for all of 30 seconds. In minutes, the cake was gone and he was in the kitchen for more.
Across the room, Tonks smiled genuinely for the first time in months. He couldn't resist the cake for long. She started to hope again that he would one day stop resisting her as well.
December
Tonks:
Tonks sat on the floor of her room in Hogsmeade with a sizeable stack of Christmas cards in front of her, all signed, addresed, and in envelopes. All but one: Remus's card. She couldn't let Christmas pass without sending him a card, but she was stumped about how she should sign the card. "Love," was what she wanted to sign, but it was becoming harder and harder for her to keep saying those things when he would never say them back anymore. She was still fairly certain that he felt it, too, but how much longer could he push her away without it simply becoming normal for him?
She wanted to get him a gift that was lavish enough to show him that she still cared (and imparting a small bit of guilt wouldn't hurt), but she was afraid that he would send it back. That would be more than she could bear. So, she had picked a fairly large box of Honeydukes best and had it wrapped and ready to go as soon as she could manage to sign the card.
She sat on the floor for a full hour, tears streaming down her pale cheeks, thinking of all of the things she wanted, needed to say to him. In the end, before she dragged herself off to bed, she snatched up a quill and scrawled, "For Remus. Happy Christmas." She couldn't manage to sign her name without adding some declaration of her love, so she left it unsigned.
Christmas Eve
Tonks:
His height and lanky grace made him stand out in the Christmas crowd in Hogsmeade. She had the benefit of preparation. When he saw her, she could see him trapped by equal fight and flight impulses. Both stood still, staring at each other, until someone bumped into her, making her bend for a dropped package. When she'd stood up, he was gone.
The street blurred as her eyes filled. Then suddenly his hands were slipping around her waist, his breath on her skin, his face buried in her neck as he breathed her in. "I miss you, Nymphadora." He inhaled deeply, and was gone as quickly as he'd arrived, leaving his scent on her—her Amortentia.
New Year's Eve
Remus:
The hardest part of seeing her again is the way her unique scent stays with me for days. That peculair, heady scent of Amortentia that is Nymphadora Tonks—raspberries, chocolate, fresh air, and desire, is something I have missed since our parting. I could get blissfully drunk on that scent. That she still desires me is almost enough to make me give in, to make me come back. Almost, but not quite enough.
After a few days, her scent will fade and all I will smell is the filth, blood and hate of my brothers. No, the hardest part by far of seeing her again will be when her scent fades.
Late January
Remus and Tonks:
The snow on the windowsill of her room at the Hog's Head was piling up quickly as Tonks sat in an armchair which she'd dragged over by her bed. She was desperate to stretch out and get a good sleep on her bed, but it was occupied by an unconscious Remus. The days when she could have crawled under the covers next to him were over. He'd no doubt be upset enough that she had dared to nurse him. They'd been apart for five months now while he was on his mission, and she was drained by his absence. What she had done for him was what she'd had to do, but it had all been mechanical. Dutiful.
She'd been on patrol last night when the snow had started. It all looked so beautiful in the light of the full moon. Walking past the Shrieking Shack, she'd been startled to hear howls and yelps of pain. He knew she was here in Hogsmeade. How was she to stay away? In the morning, she'd decided to go to him, whether he wanted her to or not. The damage the wolf had done to the room and to himself was the most extensive she'd seen yet. Apparating back to her room with him, she'd gathered a sedative and some supplies and done what she could to mend him. Since his were destroyed, she'd slipped out for a bit to get him the simplest of robes, sure that he wouldn't accept anything more from her. He was clean, he was healed, he had clothes to wear. There was nothing more for her to do than to wait for him to leave her again.
Remus slowly became aware that his transformation was over, that it had been a bad one, but that he did not feel as much pain as he should. He stretched gingerly and registered being in a bed with blankets, that he was clean, and in a warm room. Damn. That meant Tonks.
He opened his eyes carefully, hoping that she would be away, and he would be able to sneak out, but he'd instantly locked eyes with her. He didn't need to be a Legillimens to read her: hurt, need, and persistent love were all there for him to see.
"Go back to sleep, Remus. I don't want anything from you. Just go to sleep." So he did.
The next morning, he woke to see her getting dressed for work and pulling her bland hair into a ponytail. She must have heard him stir, because she said, "breakfast and a robe are on the table." But she didn't turn around.
"Tonks," he started, "I can't..."
"Yes, you can. Like I said, I don't want anything from you. You were my cousin's best friend. Just take it and go."
She sat down in the armchair to tie her shoes, and he grabbed her arm. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me! I hate the look of pity I know I would see on your face if you looked at me. This is what I am: an old man, lying naked in a hotel room that I can't afford to pay for. Just let me go!"
"No, Remus. You have to let me go. You're hurting me."
He could see that he had bruised her arm. Damn. "Actually Remus, the only pity on my face would be for myself. I still want you. I'm stupid enough not to be able to move on and love someone who would actually want me. Just eat, get dressed and go. Or stay. It's up to you."
His body picked up her scent again from sleeping in her bed. It was with him for days.
February
Tonks:
Tonks was late for a meeting with Dumbledore, again. She slowed in the corridor to try to catch her breath and was startled by a soft yet stern, "hem, hem." As if the day hadn't been bad enough already.
Then the toad began to speak. "Miss Tonks, running in the halls is not tolerated, and I expect that you, as an Auror, would at least make an attempt at decorum. I know that ladylike behavior is not your...forte, but please, try to succeed at something," the hag simpered. She had said 'Auror' as if it was a label she hesitated to apply to Tonks. Tonks struggled to keep her temper, and decided that the best way to acheive it was simply not to speak. Umbridge continued, "Valentine's Day is coming up soon. I expect that on that day you will confine your activities to guard duty and not give in to a public display of lust with your werewolf, ah, lover. Some people might just begin to wonder how to classify a creature such as yourself, if you persist in consorting with beasts." With that, the High Inquisitor had flounced off.
Tonks resisted the urge to aim a dozen different hexes at her, and instead gently grabbed hold of a bit of yarn trailing from that odious pink cardigan. She pulled the wad of Droobles from her mouth and used it to stick the yarn to the wall. A cackle startled her and Peeves floated into sight. "Naughty, naughty," he jeered.
"Do me a favor will you, Peeves, and either make sure that her entire sweater unravels or bugger off. I wish I could chase that hag down the hall while smacking her with a sock full of chalk!"
"Oooh, ideas!" shouted Peeves as he sailed away, upside down, following the trail of pink yarn.
March
Remus:
"I don't care," she had said. But she would care. When she knew what his life had been like with the ferals, it would change. Anyone in their right mind would care and would back away with horror. Since the day thirty years ago that he had recovered from his first transformation into the snarling, vicious beast that he became every month, he had put all of his effort into not letting himself be defined by that beast. He had paid attention to his parents' lessons in manners, he had become well read, he had tried, despite grinding poverty, to remain a gentleman.
But that was finished. Now, he stood at the edge of the forest with his packmates, the other ferals, looking into a schoolyard of innocent children. Prey. He was hungry. His rational mind was revolting against the idea that he could ever eat another human. But in only a few hours, the moon would remove him from that rational mind. He was no longer taking the Wolfsbane Potion. When he couldn't be aggresive, he was in danger from the rest of the pack.
Tonight, the school would be having a dance. There would be plenty of teens sneaking out of the grounds, looking for a quiet place to snog. The pack would be there to pick them off one by one. Remus would be there. Dumbledore needed him to be "in," to gain influence with the ferals, and Remus had given everything up to the mission, but he had never yet joined them in the hunt. Today he had been told in no uncertain terms that he would join them, or he would be the hunted. It was time to prove himself.
He managed to walk away from the group, who were busy anticipating their feast. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a stunted, oddly shaped tree that Order members used to leave him messages and necessities in. He was surprised to see what looked like a corked flagon carefully hidden. Wolfsbane. As quickly as he could, he drank it down. It was not going to be enough to keep him fully himself, but he knew that it would enable him to keep his mind enough to eat what he chose, and not what his curse chose for him. This must have come from Tonks, he thought. She had done it again: allowed him to preserve enough of himself, that he just might be able to come back to her after all.
April
Remus:
I cannot continue in this life. If I cannot win them over, then I will let them kill me. I cannot go back to her as I am. She's pure and I'm tainted. When I started this life, I said that I would not return. But a part of my mind stayed free, looking for her face, hoping she would appear for just a moment—a bit of light in all this dark. Later, I still tried to make a way, to uncover a simple path to go back. But there is no path and no way back from here.
May
Remus and Tonks:
Remus had followed her out of the hospital wing, presumably to argue his case again. Tonks was not letting him get away with it this time. If he was determined to push her away forever, so be it, but she was done with being polite and loving in her responses to him. This was going to get ugly, and Tonks rather enjoyed that thought.
"Tonks," pleaded Remus, "we've been through this a hundred times. You think that we belong together, but it just isn't realistic. It's old ground, I know, but you have to understand. I'm just too..."
"STOP!" she shrieked before he could get any further. "I swear to you that if you say that rubbish one more time, I will permanently disable your ability to speak. I have had people treat me like I am immature because of my hair and my clothes. I have had pureblood snobs treat me like I'm rubbish because my father is Muggle-born. But I have never had anyone be as patronizing to me as you have been this year. I've heard your '101 Reasons Why Tonks Deserves Someone Better Than Me' speech enough times to recite it along with you, Lupin." When he heard her use his surname, Remus blanched and started to speak, but Tonks raised her wand and pointed it right between his eyes. "Do. Not. Tempt. Me. Lupin." She exhaled slowly, and lowered her wand, but only a bit.
"You think I don't understand your reasons, that you can make me understand by giving me a proper explanation. But the truth is that you don't trust me. You are afraid that I will someday see that I've made a horrible mistake. That I will change my mind and leave you. You are afraid of what people will think about us. You. Not me. You don't have to decide whether being with me is right or wrong for me. You just have to decide whether when I promise to love you in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, you will believe me or not. It's that simple. YOU are afraid of ME. I know exactly who and what you are. I know my mind and my heart, and I know that I can handle you. You need to decide right now whether you want me or not. Whether you trust me or not." Tonks lowered her wand and stood as still as stone.
The silence stretched on until she couldn't bear it any more. She turned to walk away, but slowly Remus lifted his hand and touched her cheek. As he did so, her hair turned just the slightest shade of pink. What they could have between them was truly magical, in every sense. Remus pulled her to the ground, and they held each other and wept and kissed. He didn't know what he had done to be so blessed with someone like her, but he knew then that he would never walk away from her again.