A/N: Sorry for the wait, everyone. Note - this chapter contains heavy drinking, so be warned. Otherwise, enjoy!

Chapter Seven: Actions and Consequences

"Thank you…thank you so much for taking 'er…I just 'ave to see Bill…and she didn't seem to take to seeing 'er père last time…" Fleur sighed heavily, and wiped her reddened eyes. She slipped the sleeping child into my arms and managed a weak smile. "She will be alarmed when she wakes up," she said softly, checking her watch. "Just give 'er a bottle and read aloud. That tends to 'elp."

"We'll be fine," I said, mesmerized for a moment, just looking sadly down at the peacefully resting child.

"Right," said Fleur, and to my surprise began to sniffle. I slid the child over onto my hip, and looked carefully at the woman.

"Oh…Fleur…he'll be fine…I know it…" I said awkwardly, my remarkable powers of comforting and reassurance long gone.

"No, no, non," she snapped quickly, but in no way harsh. She sighed, wiped her wet cheeks, and began again. "It's just Lucille…I 'ave never left 'er before…"

"Oh." Chewing on my lip, I searched my brain for something even partially intelligent and soothing I could say.

"It's not just leaving 'er alone…" Fleur went on, translating my awkward silence as welcoming. "I know she'll be fine, I know she will. But…I just do not know if I can leave 'er." Fleur swallowed heavily, and looked off into the distance. "She was the last thing I had…"

Without my brain processing a single movement, I leaned forward and gave the thin woman a gentle hug. After a few moments, as her and I both got over the shock of the sudden gesture, I felt Fleur begin to give me a hug back.

Slowly, I pulled away, a faint look of understanding of my face. "You'll be OK," I said quietly.

Nodding as though if she stopped moving for a moment she would she burst into tears, Fleur turned to go. "I'll be back around noon," she added hastily, and I nodded.

Closing the door with a slight 'snap', I let out a sigh. For a moment I tried to remember why I had agreed to take the girl today. Everything had been so hectic yesterday…the Order meeting, having to deal with McGonagall and worse yet – having to deal with Lupin.

"In light of recent events," McGonagall had sent a knowing glance to Molly and Charlie, "I have to announce that the supposedly 'inconclusive' mission to Calais regarding Dementor attacks is back on." Minerva paused, with a defined sigh, and straightened her cat-like glasses. "For a different reason altogether though, I'm afraid."

Lupin had furrowed his brow at this, and Hestia quickly plummeted her hand into the air, causing a few people to sigh, and a few others to actually roll their eyes.

McGonagall regarded her patronizingly. "Yes?"

"What do you mean 'for a different reason altogether?"

I bit my lip viciously, and looked out of the corner of my eye at Lupin. He wasn't going to like this.

I sighed, and shook my head. Peter Pettigrew. How the whole Order had tensed at the slight mention of his disgusting name. Especially Lupin. He hadn't been overly excited at the aspect of going back to Calais in the first place, but he had looked ready to kill when the miserable traitors' name had been mentioned. He had tensed, and paled more than a few shades.

"So…" Lupin tediously spoke up, and tons of nervous eyes flooded to him. "He's…behind all this?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Molly Weasley's eyebrows practically shoot up into her hairline. No doubt she was more than surprised at the calm and ease of Lupin's tone. If it had not been him, we would all probably be seriously worried.

"It seems so," said Minerva, glancing nervously at Lupin. Slowly, she sighed. "Remus," she began, in a much lighter tone of voice. "If you…"

"I'm fine," he said, his voice flat but firm. "Really, Minerva."

She nodded, and turned back to the rest of us.

If only Sirius had been there, I thought suddenly. He would have been furious. More then furious, actually. He would have been out-of-control – and no doubt, Lupin would have had to calm him down.

That held them together.

What did he have now? Nothing. He had nothing. The last of his friends was gone…the glue that held the aging werewolf from living, alone and weakening, on the streets.

Desperately, almost in panic, I tried to think of what now kept him together. Then, foolishly, I remembered. Me. Or, at least, for a while.

Feeling guilt chewing away at me once again, I tried to draw my mind away from the image of the sensitive werewolf I had once fallen too hard for.

It was his fault, I heard myself thinking distantly. He let it all go to waste…

"Mamère." I looked up, startled. My eyes found the slumbering body of Lucille, and I let out a small sigh.

"Mamère." She murmured again, curling her tiny fingers into a ball. Her eyes were shut tightly, and I wondered if she was having a nightmare.

I straightened up and stalked towards the living room, putting the baby gently down on the couch, a wall of reinforced pillows blocking the edge.

For a moment, I watched her tiny body ease into the slump of the couch, a small frown on her face.

I soundlessly stood up and walked slowly toward the kitchen, pouring myself a careful cup of coffee.

I had only been away for a moment before I heard a small cry break the eerie silence I had placed myself in.

Quickly, I put down my coffee and hurried into the other room. Lucille was sitting up on the couch, her hands on her lap and her lips set in a defined pout. Relieved that she had not fallen, I moved slowly towards her, picking her up and swinging her onto my hip in one swift moment.

"Shhh," I cooed, trying to settle her by smiling. In all, it only made her pout more.

Sighing, I began slowly smoothing over her hair. The child giggled and began to drool happily on my robes.

"There." I said, feeling almost giddy at my small success. "Now – there's not much to do here, is there?" Lucille looked around, as though actually pondering my question, before turning back to me, her dark green eyes huge.

"No," I smiled. "So – what d'you fancy going for a walk?"

Lucille giggled, and clasped her tiny fists onto my robes.

"OK. Let me go get my coat, then." I put her back down on the couch, and grabbed a light windbreaker to put over my robes. And for once, I really didn't care how silly I looked.

Lucille clapped her hands together as I picked her up, and started towards the door. While I bundled her tightly into about three thick layers, she looked up at me, almost sadly.

"Where mamère?" she asked, her voice muffled from the furry scarf covering half of her face.

The child's gaze was so innocent, so trusting, so curious. What could I tell her? I doubt, in reality, that she would really understand – she was barely two. Still, lying felt wrong. But the truth was harder. It was always harder.

"She's visiting a friend," I said, my voice low, and my eyes glued to the sleeve of her bright purple jacket.

"Who?" she piped up, interest sparking in those giant green eyes.

"Someone…" I broke off, frowning sadly down at the floor. "Someone you'll hopefully get to know very well very soon."

At that, the child giggled, grasped my hand, and turned towards the door.

"Right," I rasped, realizing that my vision was now blurred from unshed tears. "Let's go."

----

With a wriggling and restless baby in my arms, I tried desperately to push open the door to Grimmauld Place.

"Ugh," I spat, as Lucille tried playfully to shove her fist into my mouth. "Hold on…hold on…"

Click.

I breathed a loud sigh of relief as the doors quickly burst open. With my foot, I shut them behind me, and dragged Lucille and myself off into the living room.

"Mamère?" she said loudly, for about the tenth time today.

Sighing, I shook my head.

As soon as I saw the child's face begin to crumble, I ran into the kitchen, and hastily searched the cupboards for her bottle. Finding it, I grabbed the base, and magicked in the milk.

Though that only took a moment, it took about five to finally manage to stumble back towards the living room – being as my feet had decided to give way and send me flying down onto the cold linoleum. Lucky thing those bottles are made of hard plastic.

"I – er – it's OK…" I heard a man's voice say nervously. At that very moment, I felt my body freeze. A man? With Lucille?

My blood began to boil and I felt a wave of red-hot anger pass through me. Without another thought, I whipped out my wand and charged.

"I don't know who you are, but b –!" My voice trailed off weakly as I got my first glance at the man standing in front of me. "Oh, da –" I started, warily eyeing Lucille.

Walking slowly forward, my face twisted into what I hoped was an apologetic manner; I picked up the intrigued baby.

"Er – I'm sorry," began Lupin hastily, rubbing his arm in a fervent manner.

With my embarrassment only increasing, I shook my head. "No. Oh, Merlin, it's me. I am such a twit. I thought…" I paused, and slowly gave the bottle to Lucille. "I should have known that no one not in the Order would be here. It's just…" Again, I paused. I couldn't find the right words. I could barely even understand what I had been thinking.

"Maternal instinct?" tried Lupin, hiding a subtle smirk.

I glanced up at him sharply. "She's not mine," I said quickly.

Lupin looked mildly bewildered. His face reddened, and he rapidly tried to redeem himself. "Yes. But you…you sure seem to know how to calm her."

I raised an eyebrow. Me? I was the most un-maternal person I could think off. Molly Weasley was maternal. Even Fleur could be somewhat maternal. But me?

"Beginners luck," I said offhandedly.

Lupin smiled slightly, and I could see his eyes travel up to my hair. He reddened, and looked back down at me. "Er –" he began, rubbing his arm nervously again.

My hands flew to my hair, and immediately I felt heat rising to my cheeks. Drawing a strand of my suddenly spiked hair, I winced. It was flaming red.

"Does that sometimes when I'm highly emotional," I murmured, though we both knew there was really no explanation needed. We had been here before.

Lupin drew his eyes boldly up to mine, and I felt my heart begin to pound loudly. "What are you doing here?" I suddenly blurted. Shaking my head as I realized how blunt that sounded, I tried again. "I mean…I though everyone was out for the afternoon."

Lupin shrugged. "I have no where else to go."

"Mhmm." I glanced down at the wide-eyed baby in my arms, and saw she had finished her bottle.

Gently, I took the bottle from her, and moved her quickly over to my shoulder, patting her back slowly.

"See?" I looked up and saw Lupin looking reproachfully at me. "You're wonderful with her."

"She's an outgoing little thing," I murmured, drawing my eyes away from him.

"I could never do that," he said, gesturing to our current position.

"Sure." I lowered my voice, hoping that for once his heightened senses would fail him.

"You seem to know how to do everything…I've never even seen –"

"Will you stop?" I said lowly, but firmly, my eyes hardening on the dull wooden floor. "Can't you see I'm not fishing for any compliments?"

Lupin tensed, but didn't back down. "I'm not trying to give you any."

My eyes watered, almost from agony. Slowly, I sized him up, my gaze piercing. "Then what are you trying to do?"

Lupin's expression suddenly softened and his eyes fell from mine to the floor.

From a short distance away, we both heard a door slam shut. "Lucille? Tonks?"

Fleur.

"Mamère!" cried Lucille, her small face breaking into a smile.

"Lucille!" came the equally eager reply. "Mon enfant!"

Lupin and I exchanged sudden glances. "I'll go," he said swiftly, and began to move away.

I opened my mouth, fighting the impulse to speak. It was not only tempting, but also it also felt necessary. I think everything had just gone from bad to worse.

But, as Fleur sped through the door, a hasty look of anticipation on her face, I just shut my mouth and turned away.

----

Just one more…

I fingered the near-empty bottle of Firewhiskey in front of me, and tossed it off into the growing pile on the floor.

It can't hurt…

My head was already pounding, and I knew it would ten times worse when morning came round. Still, I didn't care. I was starting to forget. It was working.

Now smiling dreamingly, I pawned around for another one, in the tiny liquor cabinet beside me.

There.

With small difficulty, I popped the lid off, and took a long, relived sip. The pain was lifting. I could barely remember anything. Good. This was always better.

Once, when I had been like this one late night, Molly had come home unexpectedly and caught me. She was, of course, outraged. I couldn't remember much, really, just her screaming that I was I needed help. She calmed down eventually, though, and dragged me to bed. The next day I could barely face her. You would think she would have nagged me endlessly about it. But she didn't. I think she realized that this wasn't an overly regular thing. Just when I needed it. And I needed it now.

Taking a lingering last sip, I threw the bottle from me. There. I'm done.

But, instead of feeling my feet begin to drag myself to bed, I felt cold, wet tears begin to run down my face.

I brushed them away thickly, a confused sensation setting in. Why am I crying? I shouldn't be crying…there's nothing to cry about…

But still, tears kept falling. Stop! If I can't remember, what is there to cry about?

Drawing in a slow, shaky breath, I finally controlled my hysterics. Good.

But before I could move, I heard the front door slam shut. Loudly.

"Hello?"

Charlie.

"Dammit," I mumbled, placing my head in my hands.

"Hello?" His footsteps were getting louder. "Anyone?"

I groaned, and swung around in my chair, clumsily getting to my feet.

The door swung open. "He – Tonks?"

"Charlie." I winced internally as I felt myself start to giggle.

Charlie's eyes opened wide. "Are you…drunk?"

I blinked, and smiled. "Um…"

"Oh, Merlin, Tonks…" Charlie looked nervous, and carefully moved closer to me. He spied the pile of empty bottles, and winced. "What are you doing?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I'm not gonna tell you, am I?" I slurred.

Charlie blinked at me. "Tonks, you should go to bed."

"You're not my mother," I said quietly, my eyes shining.

"No…" Charlie started, nearing me wearily. "But I think I know what's best for you right now."

"What's up with you?" I said almost angrily. "What are you suddenly so different? Just after Bill…I mean he's gonna be fine, I'm sure. Any other time, you…you'd smiled and joined me."

Charlie stared at me, his expression unreadable. "But this isn't any other time, is it?" His expression softened, and I almost saw pity flash beneath those deep eyes. "You're hurting Tonks. You're not over him."

"Ah!" I folded my arms over my chest. "Why is everyone saying that? I'm fine! I'm fine!" My eyes glistened mischievously, and I staggered towards the muscular redhead standing in front of me. "I…I actually…" I lifted my hand slowly up to his chin, and smiled. Without any other warning, or any other thought, I shut my eyes tightly, and pressed my lips to his.

----

A/N: Please review!

\\/

\\/

-presses the button-