Not Alone
Nymphadora meant to leave that night at Grimmauld Place. She knew that Remus wanted the house empty on the full moon. Just him and Sirius. Remus had left the meeting early, chugging the wolfsbane potion Snape had handed him earlier as he descended further into the basement of the noble house of Black.
What Remus had not counted on, was Sirius getting shit faced through the entire meeting, passing out, and being unable to help his friend.
What was Tonks supposed to do? Leave this man that she had recently fallen in love with to deal with this terrible thing on his own, when he didn't have to? Or she could sit on the other side of the door, and talk to him, let him know that he wasn't alone.
So, she followed him down the stairs, leaving Sirius sleeping at the kitchen table, glass of fire whiskey toppled over in his hand. She sat across from the door and listened. She heard the yells of pain that transformed into howls and the whimpers of the wolf that lived inside the man she loved.
Tonks knew about men being animals. she had never told anyone, but she had fallen victim to one such a creature before. A werewolf did not scare her. Because this wasn't Remus. The man and the beast could be separated, this was not always true in other men.
She sat outside the door all night, listening to the wolf cry, and talking to him, telling him things that she wasn't ready to tell Remus himself. She told him about her past, about what she wanted from the future, what she wanted from him. She talked all night, until she could see a ray of sunlight at the top of the stairs.
She went quiet then. She thought about moving, about not letting Remus know that she was there, that she had heard him in his most vulnerable state. But she remained sitting across from the door, because she realized that it was more important that he know that he was never, even for a second, going to be alone again, not if she had anything to say about it.
When Remus opened the door, she feared his reaction. She thought he would be angry at her for staying, or shameful that she had been there. Instead he sighed as he noticed her on the floor and sat down beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side.
They sat like that for the better part of an hour, before he kissed the top of her head and whispered something unintelligible into her hair, it sounded a lot like 'thank you'
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