A/N: My apolgies for the exceedingly late update! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I was gone camping for a few days, then when I finally pushed myself to write this chapter (my ambition and inspiration seemed to had have flown out the window), I couldn't post, because ff dot net seemed to be down. I know, I know, excuses ... terribly sorry all, hope you're still me, anyways )
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Chapter Twelve: Grudgingly Oblige
"Really," Sirius spoke again, looking at my open-mouth and wide-eyes, and Lupin's bewildered expression of suspicion. "God, that would have been so juicy!" He sounded like a little schoolgirl, even more so when he jumped up and down, giggling.
"Sirius," I said, just as Lupin found his voice as well. "How did –?" he was saying. We looked at each other momentarily, before Lupin spoke up again. "How did you get in here?"
"Jumped in," he responded cheerfully. "I mean, it was glowing like mad."
"Can you get us out?" I asked hopefully.
"Out?" Sirius replied, confused.
"We're stuck," Lupin told him, scowling. "Someone sealed the Pensive. Which brings me to think," Lupin narrowed his eyes, "how did you get in?"
"Maybe it's only sealed on the outside," said Sirius passively. Personally, I was convinced. Sirius wasn't that great of a liar. Lupin still looked suspicious.
Sirius wasn't paying attention. His eyes were searching the scene with an awed twinkle in them. "Wow," he said. "My memories always end up black and white, with an odd sort of fading around the edges … I mean, well, it's still not as good as Dumbledore's, but wow … how do you do it?"
"Sirius," replied Lupin shortly, grinding his teeth. "You're completely missing the point. We are stuck here, in my memories, for Lord knows how long …" At first glance, one would assume he was just terribly irritated, the way he was scowling and the way his arms were crossed primly across his skimpy little chest, but I noticed, absently, that his eyes kept flitting towards the scene unfolding before us. Oh, goodie! More juice…
"Oh, come on," whined Sirius. "It'll be fun! I brought popcorn!"
Lupin's mouth fell to the floor at this. "But, I thought you – if you brought – how would you –what?" Fortunately for those not wanting to be bored with crazy ramblings, we weren't listening, as I was glued to the unfolding scene, and Sirius was munching happily on his popcorn. Perhaps if I had been listening, I would have discovered Sirius' plot much sooner, and maybe saved Lupin's sanity.
"Hm," Sirius was mumbling through huge mouthfuls of popcorn. I yawned and took some, ignoring Lupin stuttering along beside us. "The set is nearing towards the west, signaling it's probably around four o'clock in the afternoon … the trees are a lot shorter, and the fence is still white … no tire swing … must be around 1980 … and oh, look at that," Sirius pointed his hand and made a sound as if everything was obvious now. It wasn't, "James is still wearing his Snitch glasses." I narrowed my eyes at the gangly James Potter, sure enough wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses with tiny Snitches bordering around the edges. I giggled at the poor boy as Sirius took another handful of popcorn, throwing it in the direction of his face, not seeming to care which hole it went in.
Lupin fiddled in his spot, his ramblings stopping abruptly.
"Where are we, anyways?" I asked, taking in the scene, which left me with an unsettling feeling of familiarity, that I just couldn't place. A largish, off-white house stood in the middle of green-grassed yard, complete with a tree house and a covered-up sandbox. The house was almost radiating cozy family-ness, something that always brought a feeling of disdain to my stomach. My family had been far from anything family-ish.
"Here we go, boys!" squealed James Potter, a wolfish grin that would probably give Lupin a run for his money. Mind I never say that out loud because, despite Lupin's pansy-like fighting ability, he was a werewolf, and I wouldn't put it past him to 'accidentally' maul me into a vegetable.
"Sirius?" I turned to the actual Sirius, while his younger version whistled his approval. "Where are we?"
My darling cousin looked a few shades paler, and I was afraid for a moment he had conspicuously died, most probably just to spite me.
It was Lupin who answered, however. "Tonks," he said, sounding and looking quite serious. His eyes were unwaveringly set on Sirius, with worry dancing where the usual cheerful twinkle was. "We're in Godric's Hollow."
My eyes widened.Of course. That's where I recognized it from.
"What's this file?" I asked Moody, my fingers tight around the letter-clad envelope, sealed tightly to prevent curious onlookers from gaining information.
Moody's face seemed to steel. "Potter's file," he murmured gruffly, flipping through the files now a bit more roughly than needed.
"Can I…" my voice faded as I studied the file again. "Can I look in it?"
Moody stopped suddenly, slamming the drawer shut and staring firmly away from me. It was a few minutes before he spoke. "Do you really want to?" he asked, both eyes fixed on me, with an eerie concentration.
I swallowed, being only a nervous little Auror-in-training, and nodded. "Yes, sir."
Moody whispered a quick spell, and the bindings on the file seemed to disappear. "Treat it with respect," he told me sharply, before opening the file cabinet and getting back to work, as though there had been no interruption.
The first thing I saw as I opened it was the report. The yellowed piece of parchment stared out at me, Moody's signature scrawled messily at the bottom. It seemed so mundane; this had been Voldemort's end and the Boy-Who-Lived famous start. It just looked like any other report had been, but it was obvious it wasn't. The words looked like they had been written with pain, the casualties recorded were written with a shaky hand, and were almost intelligible.
The second thing, as I flipped the report to the back, was the picture. A white house was present, in the middle of a nice lawn, with a tire swing, and a tree house. A nice family home. The picture was a bit disrupted, however, by the red and blue flames engulfing the house, sparking up the dull night air and flaring viciously around, a warning to any passerbyers. There were figures moving inside the house, and white beams of light flying everywhere. On the ground by the mailbox, two silhouettes bodies were visible. The bodies of James and Lily Potter.
With a small gasp of air, I set the picture down. My heart was thudding, and I quickly put a hand out onto the desk, steadying myself. That had horrible…it wasn't just a picture of a fire, and of murders … it was a picture of the end of a world. The end of a loving family that should have gone on to have many happier years together. It was the end of the innocent life Harry Potter could have had.
Still breathing hard, I quickly put the pictures and report back in the envelope, trying to get the disturbing images out of my head.
"You'll be okay," I heard a voice tell me from behind. I didn't to look up. Moody's hand rested lightly on my shoulder. "After a few minutes. You just to breathe. Here," he handed me a glass of water and I took it, thanking him.
"I hate the world," I said, unable to think up a more mature, deep comment to say.
"So do I," said Moody, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fucking Dark Lord."
I couldn't help but laugh.
My eyes snapped back onto the scene at hand when James Potter's voice broke through the silence, "My parents should be gone. D'you think I could invite Lily?" James looked like he was actually considering the possibility while his friends laughed.
"Good luck with that," said Sirius, patting his shoulder.
"Now, Sirius," said the voice of the younger-Lupin, looking dead serious, "it's only fair that you give James some advice."
James and Peter looked confused, but Sirius gave a wolfish grin, catching on, "Oh, gawd, you're right! I'd forgotten about our little make-out session." James looked petrified and I suddenly wondered if he really was as smart as everyone said. "Damn, she's hot," he added for good measure, fanning himself.
"You bloody git!" screamed James, just as Sirius burst out laughing. Realizing his bluff, James began beating his friend. Lupin watched the two with a sort of satisfied air, and I wondered if he enjoyed friendly abuse. The thought brought many, many unwanted and slightly exciting and disturbing ideas to mind.
Finally turning away from the scene, I turned to the real Sirius and Lupin, both who looked unwilling to watch any more.
"I'm sorry," I felt compelled to say, whether it is completely unnecessary or not.
Sirius ignored me, but Lupin looked up, his large, brown eyes studying me. "You shouldn't be sorry," he said softly. "It's been your fault."
"How do you know?" I said suddenly. "Ever heard of the butterfly effect?"
Lupin shook his head. "Don't be silly."
"I'm not!" I cried, thinking I very well was, but apparently my tongue was no longer attached to my brain … and hopefully it never was. "Maybe … maybe if I had never been born, and my mother had never gone good … maybe … maybe …" I bit my tongue, and it squirmed irritably in my mouth, fighting my teeth's grasp. But I had to stop somewhere; I had hit a dead end.
"Tonks," Lupin touched my arm, and I yanked it away before the butterflies could start. He didn't look hurt. My subconscious cried. "You did nothing wrong. It's not your fault."
"Fine," I snapped. I sat down so quickly, that my bum started aching like mad within seconds. Swearing very, very quietly so Lupin wouldn't notice my discomfort, I stared straight ahead, yet not really looking.
"Sirius is asleep," said Lupin's voice behind me.
I don't CARE, why the hell would I care? Stop trying to make conversation with me, I'm fed up, I hate being stuck here, and I'M COLD! "Oh, really?"
Apparently Lupin didn't notice the rigid, piercing, fierce, venom-y coldness I had evilly injected into those words with deliberate force. But, whatever. "Yeah … he has a tendency to nod off in public places."
Oh, and I'm sure you would know. I mean, damn it, you probably keep tabs on him, you're like his fucking GROUPIE! "Uh huh."
He didn't notice the fury in those words, either. What is he, a complete idiot? "I think I'll wake him up."
Yeah, 'cause I'm sure he won't bite your head off, because he DOESN'T have an awful temper. You sod. I'm not bitter, I'm just screwed up, and I blame YOU. "You do that."
"All right." My hands curled into balls at his casual response. Doesn't he get it? Can he not see this annoys me? Does he not understand I hate him? Because I do! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!
A thin pair of arms grasped the back of my shoulders. I turned around quickly, staring straight into Lupin's eyes. His mouth, hanging open like a goldfish, closed abruptly as I grasped his jaw tightly in my hands, my body pressed way too close against his for comfort. Not breathing, thinking or moving any sensible body part, I kissed him.
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TBC
R&R?