NOTE: I've upped the rating on this fic due to a part of this chapter - it's nothing at all explicit, but an *ahem* adult activity is slightly more than implied here, so I'm just being extra safe.
Tonks paused for a moment on the front steps of the cottage, leaning heavily against the doorframe as she waited for the faint stars bursting at the corners of her vision to dissipate. Perhaps it had been stupid to apparate so soon after being released from the hospital with a head injury, but there was no way she was not going to come see Remus the morning after this transformation. The first transformation without Sirius.
She had woken up in St. Mungo's, groggily aware of a rough, masculine-feeling hand gripping hers tightly as she stirred. When she'd finally managed to pry her eyes open, Remus had been slumped in the chair next to her bed. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days. He'd been the one to break the news to her. She'd cried, and felt guilty as she did so. She didn't deserve to fall apart about this in front of him. She'd loved her cousin, but she hadn't known him for nearly as long or as well as Remus had, not really. And she couldn't banish the ugly, creeping tendril of a thought that maybe if she'd been just a bit quicker, if she'd managed to hit Bellatrix, Sirius would still be alive.
Yet, she'd cried. And through the tears, she'd felt a niggling concern at the detached way in which Remus had informed her. Eyes staring down at her bedsheets, his grip on her hand loosening ever-so-slightly. His voice, monotone, cracking only a little bit as he said the words. His hand pulling away from hers to wipe a tear from her face, only for him to withdraw his touch from her cheek as quickly as if he was afraid he'd hurt her. The way he'd informed her that her parents were on their way, they'd want to see she was awake, and it was better that he leave now. The way he had made her promise not to show up to help him after the fast-approaching full moon. That her recovery was more important, that he'd be perfectly fine.
Of course he wouldn't be fine. But she'd just nodded, head still fuzzy with pain and the indescribable feeling of fresh loss and murky grief as he gently kissed her forehead - after a slight hesitation that she almost hadn't noticed - before striding quickly out of her hospital room without another word.
And now, here she was, standing on the front stoop of his family cottage. Nestled at the foot of a small hill, it was rather isolated from the nearby village in the Welsh countryside, and it had been looking more and more dilapidated every time she was here. She took a deep breath and lifted her wand to the door. She was usually a bit more delicate in the way she tried to chip away at his self-imposed barriers, but now was not the time. She was crashing through the barriers today.
She managed to get through the wards on his front door - unchanged since the last time he had shown her how, so she wondered if maybe he did still expect her to show up.
She stopped briefly in the kitchen, setting her bag on the table and feeling her apprehension grow as she took in the bloodied rags, a jar of essence of dittany left open on the counter. There was a smear of blood next to the jar, and several more spots of blood on the table; it wasn't like Remus to not clean up at least a little before dragging himself to bed. She turned towards the bedroom, her pace quickening as she noticed more blood on the floor; pressing against the door, she noticed that the handle had been stained with a red handprint.
As the door creaked inwards, she was relieved to see he had at least gotten to the bed, though it looked as if he had simply sprawled across it on his stomach atop the blankets. He'd managed to pull some clothes on, though he was wearing what appeared to be only a jumper and a pair of boxer shorts. The Auror in her did a quick impartial scan of his body for injuries, noting with slight relief that the bandages across his legs and hands looked relatively properly applied, but also realizing with dismay that there were more bandages than usual. She closed the door with a soft click, and picked up the spare quilt at the end of the bed; he stirred as she gently draped it over his lower body.
"Tonks? Is that you?" She winced; his voice sounded painfully raw.
"Wotcher, Remus," she responded quietly, making her way around the side of the bed and kneeling down on the floor so that her face was level with his.
"I told you not to come, Tonks." His eyes were still closed.
"You didn't really think I was going to leave you alone for this one, did you? Especially once you asked me to stay away. That's practically guaranteeing I'd come, you of all people should know that." She gave him a small smile as he let out a quiet snort; she couldn't tell if it was amusement or irritation. Likely both.
"'M fine," he mumbled, cracking one eye to look at her blearily. "You should be resting."
She scoffed. "I'm fine, Remus. Healers said I'm all good to go. Just have to watch for some dizziness the next few days, but it's nothing I can't handle." He opened both eyes now to ensure she saw his disapproval. She rolled her eyes, then gently touched his cheek. "I'm really alright. I was worried about you. Have you had any water yet? What about some toast?"
He blanched, squeezing his eyes shut again as his face went slightly green. "No food. Not yet."
"Nauseous?"
"Mm. Very."
"Okay." She stood up. "Water at least though, alright? And I'll make you some tea, maybe that'll help settle your stomach. You've got to get some fluids, okay?" She received a quiet grunt in reply and decided that was good enough before she headed back to the kitchen.
She put the kettle on and opened the cupboard, rummaging around for the teabags she knew would be here. Pulling the tin off the shelf, she hesitated as she saw something glint from the back of the cupboard. She set the tea down on the counter and reached for the small purple bottle, already knowing what it was and feeling her blood run cold at the thought.
She stood still in the kitchen for a moment as the kettle whistled, the bottle of wolfsbane clutched tightly in her hand. Maybe Snape had made too much this month, and this was an extra dose? She knew that this was unlikely; the potion was so precise and difficult to brew that Snape always made the exact amount Remus would need each month.
She made her way back to the bedroom, setting the tea on the bedside table and kneeling near Remus' head again. He blinked his eyes open slowly, humming gratefully as she held a glass of water to his cracked lips. He shifted to sit up slightly, taking a few tentative sips before eagerly gulping down the rest of the glass.
"Thanks," he murmured, sinking back down into the bed. She set the empty glass down and sat back on her heels, chewing her lip as she thought of how to word what she wanted to say next.
"Remus," she began slowly, "I promise I wasn't snooping. But I was looking for the tea in the cupboard and I found...did you miss your last dose of wolfsbane?"
He was silent for a moment, eyes closed as he laid back against the pillows. "I didn't forget," he finally replied. "But yes."
"But...why would you -"
"I've gotten too used to having it. Can't depend on it."
She gaped at him. "Remus, that's mad. Snape makes it for you every single month. On Dumbledore's orders. I know that Snape's not exactly president of the Remus Lupin fan club, but he's not going to stop for no reason. Did you really -"
"'S not what I mean," Remus mumbled. It sounded as if each word was costing him an infinite amount of energy. "Might not have it forever. Need to remind myself what it's like. Without the potion. Just in case."
Tonks felt herself growing angry. "And you thought now was the time to test that out? Your first transformation after...after…"
"'M fine, Dora," he replied. "It went alright."
"Did it, though? Because to me it looks like you bled out all over your kitchen before making it to bed," she snapped. She immediately regretted the harshness of her tone when he winced, and she softened her voice. "I'm sorry, Remus. I'm just worried. You should have told me - you should have told someone you were planning on skipping the wolfsbane. What if you had seriously hurt yourself? And why do you keep saying you can't get used to having it?" He didn't respond. "It's daft. Did Snape say something to make you think he might stop brewing it for you? Because if he did, I'll -"
"No, Tonks," he muttered. "'S fine. I'm fine. Please."
She pressed her lips together to keep from retorting as she begrudgingly admitted to herself that now was not the time; she would interrogate Remus on his stronger-than-usual self-destructive tendencies when he was feeling better."Okay," she whispered. "Okay. Sorry." Her anger faded as quickly as it had appeared as a look of genuine regret flitted across his face.
"S'alright. Sorry for scaring you." His voice was fading again; it sounded as if he was drifting back to sleep.
"No, no. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pushing you right now, we'll talk about it later. You need to rest."
"Sorry, Dora." She shushed his apology.
"Don't be. I was being a jerk. Tea's on the table," she murmured, gently pushing a sweaty lock of hair from his feverish forehead. "I've placed it under a warming charm. For whenever you feel you can drink it without retching."
"Thanks. Love you." His voice was raw and raspy and nearly unintelligible, but she froze for just a second, her hand still touching his face as she registered his words. His eyes suddenly snapped open, wide and panicked as they locked onto hers.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, still staring at her. She shook her head, resting the back of her fingers against his cheek as they scratched against the stubble there.
"Don't be. Please don't say sorry." Her voice was soft, and she wasn't even sure he had heard her as his eyes were fluttering closed again now. But she had seen the look in them before the panic flooded in. She knew he'd meant it.
"I'm sorry," he murmured again. "S'okay…'f you don't want…" he was already drifting back to sleep. Tonks felt her heart clench painfully as she looked down at his face.
She'd been thinking about it for awhile now. There'd been one night a month or two prior; they'd been in bed together, their usual post-sex banter taking a turn towards more serious topics, as it sometimes did late at night. She'd asked him about his scar; The Scar. He'd told her about the night he was bitten while tracing idle circles on her bare shoulder with one lazy finger, and halfway through his story, she noticed he hadn't been talking about it with the sort of shy reluctance that usually accompanied any story that involved him opening up about himself. She'd realized how completely he trusted her. And in that moment, she'd suddenly found herself struck by the strength of her feelings for the man lying next to her; she'd had the thought that she would do anything for him. She would do anything to protect him. And it had scared her. The intensity, the suddenness of it. She'd thought maybe it was just the post-sex high that taking up residence in her brain; give it time and the feeling might dull. She didn't want to say anything rash and ruin what they had.
But she couldn't stop thinking about it. She thought of it whenever he spoke up in Order meetings in that gently confident way of his, when they were eating supper or sharing a tea or coffee at some late hour of the night. She thought about it when she laid with her head in his lap as he quietly read in the library, when he kissed her, when she thought about the way he said her name when he was inside her, when she woke up to him at her bedside in St. Mungo's. It was always there. The feelings didn't weaken; if anything, they grew stronger than she'd even anticipated. She'd had the rather terrifying thought that she wasn't sure she'd ever felt this way about someone before.
Standing slowly, she came around the other side of the bed and carefully slipped into the bed behind him, laying a gentle hand over his waist. "Of course I love you too, you muppet," she whispered back. From the deep, even sound of his breathing, he was asleep again.
She should have been happy. Doesn't being in love make you happy? But she couldn't ignore the sinking apprehension at the look she had seen in his eyes when they'd opened, when he'd apologized. He hadn't taken it back, but he'd apologized. Certainly the words "I'm so sorry" were not meant to follow so closely the words "I love you," were they?
Several hours later, she awoke to an empty bed, the room grey with early afternoon's light. When she entered the kitchen, Remus was already sitting at the table, a plate of dry toast and a mug of tea in front of him. He gestured to the seat across from him, where he'd prepared her a cup of tea as well. She sat down heavily, trying to ignore the butterfly-like nerves that had taken up residence in her stomach.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better," he replied. He did seem slightly improved - certainly better than he had been earlier that morning - but he still looked drained and rather ill.
She clasped her hands around her mug, relishing the warmth it provided her in the chilly kitchen. "Remus?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
She wanted to be sure he heard her words and that he knew she meant them. She wanted to hear him say it again, too. But she remembered the haunted look in his eyes the night before when he'd realized what he'd said. And so she somehow knew something - what, exactly, she couldn't say - but she knew something was coming before he said it. Even before he let out a heavy sigh.
"I'm...I have to tell you something." There it is. "I'm going away, Dora."
"What d'you mean, away?" she asked slowly.
"I met with Dumbledore a couple days ago. He wants me to...he needs me to infiltrate a werewolf pack." He paused. "Specifically, Greyback's pack. He needs me to be a spy. For the Order. I'll be away for...I'll be away for a long time. At least several months, likely longer."
She sat dumbly as the words slowly sunk in. "Dumbledore's sending you...to live with Greyback. The one who bit you?"
He sighed. "Yes. It's...believe me, I don't relish the task, but...Greyback is more or less aligned with Voldemort. The Order needs someone who can gather intelligence from this association. But the...the werewolves don't truly trust anyone. So if there's a chance - any chance at all - that some of them could be convinced to come to our side, well…" he fiddled with his plate. "It's worth a shot, don't you think?"
"It's worth a shot? I don't…" She frowned. "This is so dangerous, Remus."
"That's what I signed up for when I joined the Order. Both the first time and this time around," he replied stiffly. "It's part of the job, Tonks, this is just -"
"I'm aware of the risks, Remus, I'm in the Order too, I'll have you remember. But this just seems foolhardy. Won't he recognize you? Won't Greyback recognize you?" She felt annoyance start to prick at her.
"Likely. But I'm sure I'll be able to convince him - convince him that I've had my time in the wizarding world, it didn't work out, that I never really belonged here so I've finally seen the light -" These were the words, pronounced with such a confidence that she was sure some part of him really believed them, that finally made the rubber band of anger in her chest snap completely.
She slammed a hand down on the table, equal parts gratified and ashamed to see Remus jump as their teacups clattered slightly. "They're going to kill you!" she yelled. He looked at her, eyes wide and startled. "This is a suicide mission, Remus - if they find out what you're doing, they'll murder you. They won't show you any mercy. They're cruel. They'll just - they'll just -" she felt panic rising in her chest as the gravity of this mission continued to fully sink in. "They'll tear you apart and leave you to die in the middle of-"
"You're the one who's always telling me that werewolves are people too," he snapped. She was unable to stop the hurt from flashing across her face, and he looked as if he instantly regretted his words.
"That's not fair, Remus," she replied quietly, her voice wavering. "You know that's not what I'm implying. Werewolves are people and that's why I'm so scared for you. Greyback is an evil man. He's cruel. Not because he's a werewolf, but because of the things he does. He's a Death Eater. I would say the same thing if you were going to live with the Malfoys or the Dolohovs for the next six months. You're going to live with someone who attacked you as a child in order to get back at your father. I don't - I can't believe Dumbledore is asking this of you -"
"It's my duty to the Order, Tonks," he said wearily. "And to Dumbledore. I owe him my...I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him."
"And now as repayment, he's asking you to just throw yourself to the wolves?" she replied nastily.
"Please don't say it like that, Dora," he said quietly. She looked down, instantly ashamed.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I'm just - I'm so worried for you."
"I know."
"I'll miss you."
"I know," he repeated, his voice gentler now.
She sighed. "Alright. I'm sorry. It's just - I'm going to be worried sick about you, you know. But I...I respect that you feel you have to go." She still had some feelings towards Dumbledore that she'd sort through later, but she had to get through this conversation first. "So when you go on this mission, then," she continued, trying to keep her voice even, "we'll still see each other a bit, yeah? You'll get to show up to some meetings occasionally, I'm sure, and I know it'll likely be dangerous for you to write, but if you can manage it, maybe you can send a letter here and there so I know you're alright." She swallowed. And I mean...it won't be forever, right? Maybe I'll see you around Christmas, and then -"
"Tonks," he said softly, cutting her off. "No. I think it's...I think it's best if we don't...if we aren't together. Anymore."
She stared at him. "What?"
"I...this is going to be a dangerous mission. Greyback is...what you said before, you're right. He's dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. I cannot risk him finding out your association with me. It's indescribably risky. I don't even know how to explain to you how dangerous it is. How dangerous he is. I don't even want to think about what he would do if he discovered that I had...if he discovered that I have someone I - I care about. It would be safer for you if we just...if we cut ties. Completely." He was staring down at the table now, steadfastly avoiding her eyes, but she could tell by the way his hand was shaking slightly as he attempted to pick up his tea before quickly setting it back down that he was feeling more than his expressionless voice was letting on.
She felt as if her heart was in her throat. She swallowed, watching him for several long, silent seconds before she managed to find her words. "I don't...what? What are you saying?"
"It'll be safer this way for you. While I'm gone."
"But once you're back-"
He sighed heavily, rubbing at his temples with one hand. "No, because it'll also be safer for you once I'm...if I come back. I've been thinking about it, and...you can do so much better, Tonks, honestly. It constantly amazes me you even give me the time of day, and I will be forever grateful for the time we spent together." Tonks felt her chest becoming tighter as he continued, still refusing to meet her eyes. "People know who I am. They know what I am. I will never be considered a normal man in our world. Your reputation, your career, your entire life would be adversely affected by continuing to be involved with me, Tonks. I just...I can't knowingly put you through that. It would be so unfair." He took a sip of his tea, his hand still trembling. "Add on top of all of that the fact that I am going on a mission that I - that I may not come back from, and-"
"Don't say that. Do not say that."
"It's true, Tonks. You were absolutely right, there's a chance I might die." His voice shook slightly. "And that's why I don't want you to be saddled with this. With having to worry about me. Once I've gone on this mission - once I've left-"
"Tell me you don't mean it." The part of her mind that felt like it was watching this scene as an external spectator was proud of how steady her voice was, despite the nausea roiling in her stomach and threatening to upend her at any moment.
"I already told Dumbledore I would go, Tonks. I have to, for the Order. I can't -"
"Not that. I'm talking about what you said to me earlier. When you were in bed." His face crumpled. "Tell me you don't love me, Remus. That's the only way this will make sense for me. I'm willing to make things work in a difficult situation. It's war. You have a mission, I understand that. I don't like it, but I understand it. But I'm not going to chase after someone who doesn't feel the same way I do. Tell me you didn't mean it."
"You know I can't do that." His voice was barely audible.
"Then none of this makes any sense." She reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. "Fine, I won't write you at all while you're with the pack. I don't want to put you in danger, that's the last thing I'd want. And it'll suck for a few months. But why does that mean we can't see each other whenever you're back? Or when the mission is over? I've told you I don't give a shit about any of that other stuff. It's kind of insulting that you think I would care, frankly." He suddenly pulled his hand out of her grasp, wrapping it around his mug instead, and she felt as if she'd been winded by a punch to the gut.
"It's just better this way, Tonks."
"For me or for you? Because I'm not really seeing how this is going to be better for me. You do not get to decide what's better for me. I'm not a child." Her voice shook with suppressed anger.
"That's not what I'm saying." He sounded as if he was pleading with her now. "I just...I can't do this to you, Tonks. You don't deserve to go through this."
"I'm in fucking love with you, Remus. That means I'm willing to go through this. I want to make it work. That's what being in love means, right? Even the shit parts. It just takes a little bit of extra work, that's all. Whatever we can -"
"It can't. It won't work. It just won't," he replied shortly. "It's more than just a little bit of extra work to be with me. It will always be like that. I will never not be a werewolf. It's a burden that...that I don't want you to be saddled with. That I shouldn't have thrust upon you. And that's why I'm telling you now that it won't work."
"You know I've never given a shit about you being a werewolf, so you do not have the right to use that as an excuse," she said indignantly. "You thrust nothing upon me and it is not a burden on me, don't be an arse. As for the danger, it's war! There's danger all around me no matter what! I'm a bloody Auror, I'm far more likely to be hurt in the field than I am because I'm with you!" He blanched slightly, but she couldn't stop herself. "It's the truth! I'm telling you that I'm willing to take the risk and to put in the work. This isn't...it's not just you who gets to make this decision, Remus. If the only reason you think we can't be together is because of things you think I supposedly feel or will feel, that's not...you don't get to decide what I'm comfortable with." She took a breath, deep and shuddering. "So I don't see what the problem is besides the fact that maybe you don't feel the same way, then. And if that's the case, then that I can understand. It'll fucking break my heart at this point, I suppose, but I would respect that. That's a normal reason and it would be far easier for me to accept that. And if that's the case, then sure, I'll leave you alone forever."
"Tonks, please. Stop. I told you I can't...I can't say that." His face was in his hands now, and she would have felt guilty for continuing to push him if she didn't feel as if the floor had suddenly disappeared out from underneath her. "I can't lie to you."
"You're going to make a shit spy, then," she snapped.
"I can't lie to you. I don't...I want this even less than you do, Dora. Believe me. You don't know how hard it is for me to be saying this to you right now." He let out a huff of frustration, scrubbing at his face. "This is why I told you not to come today."
She stared at him. "So what, you were going to break up with me by owl? Or were you just going to fuck off without a word and plan on never seeing me again?"
He flushed. "No, I...no. I would never do that to you."
"Then why -"
"I just...this isn't how I wanted to have this conversation." She huffed in disbelief; how had he thought this conversation would go? "But...regardless. We're having it now, and...I'm sorry, Tonks. It's just better this way. Better for you."
"God, you're a condescending git. Is it really better for me, though? Because I don't quite understand why you're making this decision for me. In what world would I feel good about telling a man I'm in love with him and then having him run off on a suicide mission a few hours later?" She was starting to lose control over the volume of her voice again, and she hated it. She hated feeling as if she were a child having a tantrum. Yet she couldn't find the energy within her to filter the things she was feeling, the things she was saying as they argued in vexing circles around what she thought was possibly the stupidest reason for breaking up with someone in the history of breakups.
"I don't know how else I can say to you that you deserve better."
"Well, you don't need to because if you'd let me have a say in the matter, I'd say there is no better for me right now. I want you, Remus, not this bizarre idea of 'better' that you've got stuck in your brain. I wouldn't have spent the past few months seeing you in all my spare time, shagging you, sleeping in your bed nearly every single night if I hadn't wanted to. If I hadn't wanted you. I don't - I don't know how else to make you understand that I-"
"This is all my fault," he muttered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let this get this far -"
"How dare you," she replied, voice quavering. "How dare you act as if this was your decision and your decision alone - I thought we were partners in a relationship, Remus, it's not as if you knocked me over the head and forced me to spend time with you. I wanted this as much as you." She looked down into her tea. "Or I thought you wanted this, anyway."
"None of this has anything to do with the way I feel about you, Tonks," he replied quietly. "I - you know how much I care about you. That's what I'm trying to say. But that's precisely why we can't be together. It's just not safe for you. No matter how hard I try to fit into normal society, I will never be seen as a normal wizard, as a normal man. I can't drag you down with me because of that. It's not fair to you. You have your whole life ahea-"
"Merlin, what are you on about? Will you stop saying that?" She squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, willing the pressure behind them to dissipate before it turned into angry tears. "You are a normal man! Just because there are bigots who want you to believe the contrary doesn't mean you aren't. Christ, Remus, you are bloody infuriating! You know I hate it when you talk about yourself like this. As if you aren't human. I absolutely despise it."
"For god's sake, Tonks, the first time we met was when you escorted me down to the Beast division of the Ministry!" Now it was his turn to raise his voice, but Tonks was almost relieved. She was angry - she wanted him to feel angry, too. She wanted physical evidence that he was feeling even a fraction of the emotional whirlwind that was tearing through her body right now. "You were my law enforcement escort for my interview to register as a bloody dark creature!"
"And you don't think I've thought about that?" she yelled. "All the time, you don't think I feel fucking horrible that that was our very first interaction? How guilty I felt about that? How badly I still feel about that? You talk about me deserving better, but you don't think that maybe this all makes me feel like I don't deserve you? That you could do better than me?" He'd opened his mouth to respond, but now shut it promptly, brows knitting together, as if this point of view wasn't something he'd ever before considered. She rather knew he hadn't.
"What do you mean? Why would you feel guilty?" He looked genuinely bewildered; Tonks had to fight the urge to shake him by his shoulders.
"The fact that I was - and I am still, really - complicit in a system that makes you feel as if you don't deserve to exist in this society? A system that's making you feel that you - that you'd be better off running to your fucking death than staying here, surrounded by people who love you -"
"You were just doing your job, Tonks." He was rubbing his temples now, eyes squeezed shut. "That's not what I meant when I said that. You know I've never begrudged you that."
"I know you haven't, and that's what makes it even worse! I want you to feel angry that that's the way you're treated, I want you to acknowledge that it's wrong!" He was shaking his head now.
"No, that's - forget I said anything about that. I'm sorry. You should just forget about me, Tonks. It'll be hard at first, but eventually you'll-"
"Why the hell would I want to just forget about you?" she cried. "I couldn't even if I tried, Remus, do you realize how fucking stupid you sound right now? You should hear yourself, honestly. First of all, we're in the Order together, so even if I never wanted to hear your name ever again it's virtually impossible. Second of all, there's the fact that I'm absolutely fucking mad about you -"
"Well, don't be, then," he snapped. "I'm a pathetic disaster of a man and I've honestly never deserved your attention in the first place. I was foolish to think that perhaps I did, and I was a fool to think that this wouldn't end badly." She felt her heart drop at the look of disgust and self-loathing that flashed across his face. She'd thought she could show him that he was special. Why couldn't he see why she thought he was so special?
She thought he'd been happy. She'd never expected his insecurities to disappear overnight, of course not; she knew that there would always be that hurdle with him, that the werewolf would always be in the room with them in some way, shape, or form. But she'd felt they were making progress. He'd seemed happier, lighter, somehow, the past few months. She thought back to New Years, when they'd been dancing; Sirius had cut in, whirling a protesting Remus away, and then she and Sirius had taken turns stealing Remus away as their dance partner, and he hadn't been able to stop laughing. He'd looked the youngest she'd ever seen him look that night as the two of them dragged him round the dance floor. She thought about the mornings they'd woken up together; the first few times, he'd had that look on his face as if he still couldn't believe his luck, but slowly that look had disappeared and been replaced by one of genuine content, as if he'd finally realized that she wasn't going to suddenly regret fucking a werewolf and up and disappear on him.
He was continuing, voice slightly shaky now. "You're young, beautiful, intelligent - you've got a great career, you've got your whole life in front of you. You don't need to be chained to the baggage that comes with being in a relationship with a werewolf who's thirteen years older than you and can't hold down a job for more than three weeks at a time. I'm - I'd deluded myself with the thought that perhaps you really could be happy with me, but it was selfish and I shouldn't have -"
She fought the urge to throw her tea at him. "Stop. Stop this self-sabotage bullshit. You sound like a fucking idiot. And I have some advice for you," she seethed. "You wouldn't be such a fucking pathetic disaster if you just let people bloody care about you, Remus! Like normal people do! Give it a try and let someone in sometime! It's quite nice to connect with other people once you learn how to stop being so emotionally crippled, actually!" He looked at her, anger flashing in his eyes before he looked back down at the table, his face going carefully blank again. She'd wanted to hurt him, to make him feel a fraction of the hurt he was causing her, but she immediately regretted her words. But it was too late to take anything back now.
"That's precisely my point. I'm not normal, and I never will be, no matter how much I - or you - wish it to be so. No matter how unfair it may seem, I will always be defined by my condition and that comes with baggage I've carried nearly my whole life." His voice was quiet, and she could tell she had hurt him. "I will never be able to be 'normal' for you."
"That's - that's not what I meant -" she stammered. "When I said 'normal' I just meant - I just meant you have to open up, Remus, you have to accept that people love you and care about you, and I know it's hard but I want to help you with that, I - I didn't mean to downplay your experiences, I didn't mean anything about you being a werewolf-"
"Everything has to do with me being a werewolf. That's what you're not seeing. I just don't think you understand, Tonks. And this conversation is proving me quite right, in fact. Being with me will lead to nothing but hurt and disappointment for you."
She glared at him, inhaling sharply as she bit back another retort; she was starting to feel rather patronized. He continued staring down into his lap, avoiding her eyes. She sighed, feeling some of the fight deflate out of her. She was tired.
"Remus, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - I shouldn't have said all those things, it was childish, I'm just frustrated-"
The fiery anger in her stomach abruptly turned to ice as he pushed his chair back from the table and she realized the conversation was over. He flatly excused himself back to his bedroom, still never managing to look her directly in the eyes.
And so she sat silently in his kitchen, staring down at the table as she heard his bedroom door slam shut. Their tea sat before her still, growing colder with each passing second. She shivered, then got up, pulled on her cloak, and left without another word.
The snow had been falling steadily all evening, blanketing Hogsmeade in a soft white landscape that Tonks normally would have found cozy, but now just felt horribly bleak. She remained seated by the window, however, watching the snowflakes flutter their way through the dark sky, softly illuminated by the dim glow of the streetlamps.
Christmas had always been her favorite time of year. Yet when she'd been scheduled to work on the day itself this year, she couldn't help but feel slightly relieved, albeit rather guiltily. She'd miss her mum's feast, the carols on the wireless, and her dad's overly heavy wine pours, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to fully enjoy it this year, not really. Not with Sirius dead and Remus gone and the entire wizarding world just utterly gone to shit.
She tried not to think of him, she really did. But it had been impossible. Every time she passed a couple walking the streets of Hogsmeade, no matter their age, she had to look away in order to shield the bitterness she knew was clearly visible on her face as she passed them by. Any time she found herself walking behind any tall man with brown hair (and Merlin, were there a lot of those about) she couldn't help but fervently hope that whenever the man turned around, he'd have the face she most wanted to see - but of course that was never the case. Whenever she thought of something funny, whenever she felt overwhelmed with sadness, Remus was the first one she wanted to tell - but he wasn't here.
She finally drew the blinds, sighing as she flopped down on her lumpy bed. Her accommodations in the Hog's Head Inn left a lot to be desired, but she was honestly grateful for the cramped little room; she wasn't sure she'd have the energy to perform any necessary upkeep on anything larger or flashier.
Duty that day had been a welcome distraction. The only other thing that made her day slightly brighter was the fact that she knew Remus was spending Christmas with the Weasleys. Molly had told her over tea a week or so ago, before not-so-subtly implying that Tonks should pop by before going to see her parents, as well. Tonks was relieved to have her duty shift as an excuse not to go; she wasn't sure she'd have had the willpower to turn down the invitation otherwise, and while she was still angry with him, while she still missed him terribly, she wanted to respect Remus' wishes that they not communicate while he was gone. She was satisfied with the fact that he was at least warm and safe for a few days. She contented herself with imagining what she'd say, how'd she convince him that she wanted him, when he was finally back for good. When he was out of immediate danger and they could begin to think again about potentially rebuilding what they'd had.
Propping herself up on her side, she opened the drawer of her bedside table, hesitating only slightly before pulling out the heavily creased parchment, its edges going soft from endless opening and re-reading and folding back up again for safekeeping. She knew she shouldn't read it, not again, not today, but she didn't have the energy to deny herself the tiniest amount of comfort she received from the familiar scrawled handwriting she knew awaited her once she unfolded the letter.
Dear Dora,
I wanted to thank you for allowing me to stay here in your flat with you for the past week. I think - actually, I know that it was foolish for me to come see you again - I really did not want to leave things on such a bitter note, but I daresay this did not make it any easier for you to forget about me. And yet I am infinitely grateful that you welcomed me in when I showed up at your door instead of yelling at me to leave you alone forever, which is no less than I would have deserved. You really do have such a big heart. Whoever has the immense privilege of being entrusted with it someday will be the luckiest person alive.
This time I spent with you was likely the last human interaction (she always let out a huff of annoyance at this - even when he wasn't here, she wanted to berate him for implying that he was anything less than human) that I will have for a very, very long time. I don't think you realize how much of an impact it's had on me that you were still willing to show me such kindness and love, even after I've hurt you so badly - you always have. I will eternally be grateful to you for your kindness. (She also hated that he talked as if he were a charity case that she'd simply taken pity on).
You are an amazing person, and I frankly still can't quite believe the luck I've had to have known you. No one's been able to make me laugh as much as you have, nor consistently make me think so much, challenge my beliefs, and generally make me feel more whole as a person.
I love you, Nymphadora. I am so sorry that I cannot offer you more. And I'm sorry that even the love I could give you is too tainted by what I am to be worth anything at all. I just want you to know that even if I don't come back from this mission ("You will come back, you gloomy idiot," she muttered, as she did each time she read it), my life has been made that much better just by having you in it. And having your love, even for such a brief time, has been an experience that was more than I had ever even hoped for in my life.
I know it will be hard at first, and I hate myself for - amongst many other things - having put you through this. But it will get easier with time. And I'm not saying you need a partner to feel fulfilled - you've always been fiercely independent, and it is one of the (many) things that made me fall in love with you - but if or when you do need that part of your life fulfilled, you will be that much happier once you've found someone who can offer you infinitely more than what I could ever possibly hope to give. Please trust me on this, even if it is not what you want to hear right now. I wish for nothing more than to see you happy, and the best chance of that happening is for you to leave me behind.
Please stay safe, and thank you for everything. I love you.
Love,
Remus
He'd left the note on her bedside table after the last week they'd spent together; he'd shown up on her doorstep the day after their argument to apologize, she'd apologize, and after one thing led to another he ended up staying the rest of the week. They'd spent those days in an uneasy sort of truce, not directly acknowledging the fact that he was leaving soon, but each time they spoke or touched each other being tinged with a sort of heaviness that reminded them that their remaining time together was limited.
Despite reading the words she wished he'd been able to say aloud to her, she felt her heart sink as she read that note for the first time. She knew that for him to write so openly, to put all of his feelings onto paper for her to read, he must really, truly believe that he would not be coming back or that they would not be seeing each other again.
She'd sprung out of bed, hastily pulling a scrap of parchment from her desk and scribbling down a response. She wanted to get an owl to him before he left; she didn't want to put him in any dangerous position by writing to him once he had reached the camp. She knew not to expect an answer, and so she had simply hoped every day since that he had received it, that maybe he'd kept it with him and read it as often as she read his note, though hers had been far briefer:
Dear Remus,
I love you, and you're an idiot. I don't deserve or want anyone other than you - I want you. Remember that as you go off on your mission, you overly self-sacrificing prat. I want you and I love you and I need you to keep that with you while you're gone. You are cared for and loved. Remember that. I'll be thinking of you every single day just to spite you, expressly because you've told me to forget about you and that's the singularly most ridiculous thing I've heard because it's simply impossible.
Be safe. I love you and I'll still love you when you get back. We'll talk then.
Love,
Dora
As the weeks had gone by after he left, she'd wondered if perhaps he was right - perhaps the sting would fade with time, and she would still love him, but in the way she loved her other ex-partners - loved them for the happiness they'd brought her at the time, while acknowledging that they no longer had the ability to hold that particular place in her life.
But it hadn't, not at all. If anything, the pain of him leaving grew with each day of not knowing whether or not he was okay, of not knowing when she would be able to see him again. She was still waiting for time to dull the constant ache of his absence. Then she'd slowly lost her morphing abilities. But it was easy to blame that on stress - she missed Remus, of course, but her grief over Sirius' death was still uncomfortably sharp around the edges, and with the war gearing up and everything happening at the Ministry she never felt truly at ease anymore.
But then, she'd had to send a patronus while on an Order mission with Mad-Eye. She'd nearly dropped her wand when the large animal had burst forth from its tip. Even Mad-Eye had stared as her patronus padded between them, awaiting Tonks' message even as the words she'd been about to say fled her brain at the sight of the silvery wolf.
"I thought your patronus was a rabbit, lass," he'd said quietly.
"It was," she'd whispered. She hadn't known this kind of change was even possible. And at that moment, she'd given up all hope of ever forgetting about and moving on from Remus Lupin.
The clock chimed eleven as Tonks sat alone in her room on Christmas. Sighing, she folded the note back up and stuck it back in her drawer. Dragging herself out of bed again, she started to put the kettle on for a cup of tea.
She was rummaging around in the cupboard for some biscuits when she heard a knock on the door. It was so quiet she thought she might have imagined it - but then she heard it again. She grabbed her wand, making her way slowly across the room. It was late; her parents would be in bed by now; and whenever Aberforth needed something he just shouted at her from the hallway. No one ever knocked on her door.
She opened the door apprehensively, her stomach twisting as she came face-to-face with Remus.
He looked horrible; she wouldn't have thought it possible, but he was thinner than the last time she'd seen him. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, and it looked as if he hadn't shaven in a few days. His hair was even more grey than it had been months ago. And yet, seeing him standing here on her doorstep was possibly the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.
She stared at him, frozen in the doorway. "Remus?"
"You should ask me a security question," he croaked. He sounded even more exhausted than he looked.
He was right. She held her wand up to his throat. "Okay then. What joke did I play on you after the third time we had sex?"
He looked startled for a moment before the slightest bit of color seeped into his cheeks. At least it made him look more alive. "Tonks -"
"That's an answer only you would know," she replied coolly. "Perfect for a security question, yes? And I must admit that after so much insistence on your end that we never see each other again, I am quite surprised to have you show up at half-past eleven on Christmas. And so I agree that a security question is indeed in order. So I'll ask you again, what joke did I play on you after the third time we slept together?"
From the way he rolled his eyes now, shifting back and forth between his feet with embarrassment, she knew with absolute certainty that this was, indeed, Remus Lupin standing in the dingy hallway outside her door. But she kept her wand leveled at him, glaring. He let out a small sigh.
"You told me - no, you showed me - that you had gotten my full name tattooed on your - erm - on your…" he trailed off. "Well, it was not a real tattoo, obviously you'd morphed it. But it nearly gave me a heart attack."
"And where was the fake tattoo? On my what?" she prompted.
"Jesus, Tonks," he muttered.
"I'll hex you."
"Okay, okay. Your right arse cheek," he snapped. She lowered her wand with a nod, then stepped back.
"Would you like to come in?"
"I - shouldn't I ask you a security question?"
"I think you know now that I'm me and not an imposter, or else that's one too many Death Eaters who knows about our sex life and my right buttock," she replied. "Now are you coming in or not?"
"I - yes. If that's okay. I mean, actually...sorry, I just...I shouldn't have -"
"Just come in, Remus," she sighed. She stood back to let him into her room. He hesitated again. "I was just about to put on a cup of tea. Would you like to join me? You've already come all the way here, I'd...like it if you stayed for a few minutes. If you want to."
He nodded. "Yes - yes, please." He finally entered the room after her, taking a look around the cramped quarters.
"Sorry for the state of it, this place is a right mess. It's not much, and I have to admit I haven't been taking much care of it," she said with a shrug. "Work's been insane, and I -"
"Well, compared to where I've been, it's absolutely lovely." He gave her a tired smile. He was still standing awkwardly by the door. "I feel I'm in Buckingham Palace after sleeping in a cave for six months."
"Will you at least take off your cloak? Pretend like you're going to stay longer than three minutes, perhaps, before leaving again?" She winced as the words left her mouth. She wanted to see him, she'd been dreaming of the moment she'd see him again for months - it wouldn't do any good for her to push him away so quickly. She didn't like how awkward his presence in her small room felt right now.
He at least had started to shrug off his cloak. "Here, have a seat," she said, pulling out a chair near the tiny table. "This table's got enough room for two teacups and that's about it. I don't really have much food here, sorry," she continued apologetically, "but I daresay you had enough to eat at Molly's?"
"Too much so," he replied. "It was delicious, but my...my stomach isn't quite used to so much food at once. And so much rich food, at that." He winced slightly. "I would never tell Molly as I fear she'd either take it as a personal affront or chain me to a bed until I've fully recovered, but I've felt slightly ill all evening."
"I have some ginger tea, if you'd like. It's what my mum always gave me when I'd an upset stomach. Or I've got your usual." She was already pulling out the tin of Earl Grey from her cupboard.
He smiled. "My usual is fine, thanks."
Soon enough, they were sitting across from each other at the small table, two cups of tea in between them. Tonks tried her hardest not to let her knees bump his, but it was impossible in the cramped room. She tried not to think about how bony his legs felt as they pressed against hers under the table.
They sat in silence for a minute or two. Tonks had a million things running through her mind, but she didn't even know where she wanted to - or should - start. She decided to let Remus speak up first so that she had a better idea of where this would be going, so that she wouldn't spook him.
"So Molly said…" Remus started. He paused to stir his tea, then tried again. "Molly said you spent today alone."
"I did."
"I…I'm sorry, Tonks. I figured you would be with your parents today. If I'd known you stayed away from the Burrow because of me, I wouldn't have -"
"Don't be ridiculous, I'm relieved you spent Christmas there," she replied. "I got pulled into a shift today, is all."
He nodded, swallowing. "I just...I know Christmas is your favorite, and if I had ruined it…"
She sighed. "Would you stop blaming yourself for everything slightly inconvenient that may happen to me? I was working, Remus. It's fine. So it was a shitty Christmas. I'll survive." She looked down at her tea.
He looked at her again. "Still. I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that. Don't say you're sorry when you haven't done anything wrong."
"I...don't know if I'd say that, necessarily." He looked at her pointedly. "Your hair is…"
She rolled her eyes. "Christ, if one more person asks me about my morph I'm going to lose my mind. Yes, I've lost my morph. Yes, it's unusual. Yes, it's as bloody annoying as you'd think it'd be. It's just -"
"Is it because of me?" She couldn't stand the concern in his eyes.
"Don't flatter yourself," she snapped. "There's quite a bit going wrong in my life right now, so it's no wonder I can't muster up the energy to keep my hair bright pink. Sorry that everyone expects nothing but color and joy out of me all the time, I just can't deliver on that right now."
"I'm sorry, Tonks. I shouldn't have presumed -"
"And might I say you don't look so great yourself?" she retorted.
He laughed ruefully. "Yes, I'm aware that I've looked better. I'm sorry about - er - this," he said, rubbing a hand across his unshaven chin absent-mindedly. "Molly's very put out that I will not let her touch my hair, either, but I can't be...when I go back to the camp, I can't look as if I've…" he trailed off.
She felt some of her annoyance recede. "I kind of like the scruff," she replied, giving him a small smile. "I didn't mean to snap about my hair, I'm sorry. It's just…" she sighed. "I feel more visible and vulnerable like this than I ever did when I could have crazy hair. And then everyone asks me if I'm okay but their concern always makes me feel worse. And I hate not having control. I hate it. I feel as if I've lost a part of myself. It just feels so...it feels scary."
"I'm sorry," he said softly.
"And you...I don't want you to blame yourself for it. Because it's not just you, but...I do miss you quite a lot, Remus." She fingered the tips of her hair. "Nothing's changed. For me." So much for letting him take the lead.
"But your hair -"
"Not physically, obviously this is a big change. I'm talking about the way I feel about you." He was silent. "And if we still want to talk about things that have changed, actually, I have something to show you." She grabbed her wand. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried her hardest to concentrate - and after a few tense moments, she opened her eyes again to see the silver wolf padding around the room. Remus was watching it, shocked.
"Harry said - Harry had mentioned your Patronus had changed," he said, sounding rather breathless. "I didn't - I don't…"
"I didn't know it was possible. But there it is." She twirled her wand between her fingers. "I know that likely nothing will convince you at this point, but if you needed any more signs that I'm still completely mad about you despite your best efforts, that would be it." Remus was still watching the wolf with wide eyes.
"It takes...it takes a great emotion upheaval-"
"I thought you were dead," she said abruptly.
"What?"
"I...Remus, I think about you all the time. I can't help it. I know you send...I know why you can't write me, but I know you send your reports to Moody and he reads them at our meetings and I just...there was that month when he said he'd been expecting word from you and then none came for a week and I thought you were dead." Once she started, she couldn't stop. All of her fears that had been building up over the past several months were threatening to bubble over completely. "I couldn't...I tried not to think about it, because rationally, I knew there were several reasons for your report being late that didn't involve you having been killed, but also I just...I couldn't bear the thought of it. I don't know what I'd do. And if you want to chat even more about changes, d'you want to know what my boggart turns into now?" Even now, months after she had encountered the boggart in a closet during a raid, the image of Remus' body sprawled on the floor in front of her, lifeless and bloody and with his neck at an odd angle, was too quick to appear unbidden in her mind and still managed to fill her stomach with ice.
"Tonks, I -"
"I thought you were dead," she said again.
He gave her a bitter smile. "Well here I am, aren't I? Not dead. Not yet, anyway." He winced at the look on her face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't say it like that. I just-"
"What are you doing here, Remus?" She suddenly felt exhausted.
He looked back down at his tea, avoiding her eyes. "I...I don't know. When Molly mentioned you, I just-"
"You were so adamant about us never seeing each other again, and then you just show up. And then you say shit like that. Joking about being killed after I've just told you that's my greatest fear. As if you don't even care about the way I feel or yourself. I hate that." She took a deep breath. "Don't get me wrong, I'm relieved to see you in one piece, but I just...I have to know, Remus. I wrote you that note -"
"I still have it," he replied softly.
"I wrote you that note, and I meant what I said in it. But I need to know why you're here. Because I don't know what to think. I don't know what you think. I need to know if you're just here because you - because you felt pity for me when Molly said-"
"I would never pity you, Tonks."
"I'd hope not. I just need to know." She hated the pleading note that had crept into her voice; she felt pathetic. "I just...why did you come here?"
He swallowed convulsively, looking down at his hands. "I don't...I just needed to see you, I suppose. See you for myself and see that you're alright. I know I said we shouldn't see each other at all, but I...I do miss you," he said simply. "I still care about you."
"I...you can't...you can't just show up out of nowhere after telling me you never want to see me again and then tell me -"
He flushed. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "You're right. I'm sorry. I should never have come, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so sorry, this isn't fair to you. It was selfish of me, I shouldn't have-" He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over his tea.
"No!" She shot out of her seat as he started to make his way towards the door. "No, don't go. I'm angry with you, but I also - I missed you too, so don't go yet, please. I'm just…" she let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm just trying to get my thoughts in order, and I can do that with you here. Just because I'm...I'm a bit angry doesn't mean I want you to just go again. Please don't leave yet." He'd paused, standing near the door and looking everywhere around the room but her. "I just don't know what to think, is all. And I know…" she took a deep breath. "I meant what I said in that note, you know. I'm still here. I still love you. None of that has changed." So why are you so angry now? she thought to herself. She was still struggling to wrap her head around the fact that she wanted to shout at him at the same time that she wanted to throw herself at him and kiss him senseless; all she knew was that him showing up on her doorstep had thrown the whirlwind of emotions that had surrounded her the past few months directly into her face, and she'd been completely unprepared to face these emotions now. "It's just that I specifically respected your wishes, Remus, but then you're the one who-"
"I know," he replied, his voice cracking. "I know. Of course you wouldn't know what to think. I'm sorry. I'm weak."
She felt the anger in her chest deflate like a balloon at the look on his face. "Don't say that."
"I am, it's true."
"It's not." He was still refusing to look directly at her. She crossed the room swiftly, laying a tentative hand on his arm. He flinched slightly. "You're not weak. Far from it. I meant everything I said in the note. I may be slightly angry with you, but I still love you and-"
"You shouldn't."
"Shut up and let me finish. I still love you and care about you, and I want you to realize that it's not weak to want to seek out love and comfort. It's not weak to allow yourself to feel cared for and cared about. We all have a need to be loved, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's what makes us human." She squeezed his arm gently. "I'm sorry for being confusing. The past few months have been difficult for me, but I can't even begin to imagine what it's been like for you. I'm not being fair, either. I really am glad to see you. I'm so glad you came. You know you can always come to me, okay? Even if...even if we've left off in a weird place. Even if you think I'm angry or that I won't want to see you. I'll always want to see you, and I always want to know that you're safe. I need you to know you can always come to me. Even when you feel you have nowhere else to go. Okay?" He stared at her. "May I give you a hug?"
He hesitated for a moment before nodding stiffly. She stepped even closer, tentatively wrapping her arms around his middle.
"I'm only angry because it hurts so much not having you here," she whispered, face pressed against his jumper. It was soft and green; she had a feeling it was a Molly Weasley creation. She felt him take a shuddering breath as he finally wrapped his arms around her, tentatively returning the embrace. "And I mean it about not calling yourself weak." She pulled back slightly, craning her neck to look up at him. He had a pained look on his face. "You're the strongest person I know. You've just been dealt a shitty hand, but even then, you deal with it admirably. And I won't have you talk about yourself as if you don't deserve love, okay? It's insulting, really. It feels as though you're questioning my judgment." She cracked a half-hearted smile. "And I've always prided myself on my impeccable taste."
He didn't return her smile. "I don't deserve it from you. I'm not questioning your judgment, but you deserve so much better. I've been -" He exhaled. "Tonks, I don't think you understand where I've been. What I've been doing. And what - what I am."
"I do, actually." She gave him a squeeze. "You're a brilliant wizard, an amazing man who deserves love as much as any-"
"No." He pulled back now, and for the millionth time since he had shown up outside her door she was saddened by how abjectly miserable he looked. "I don't feel much like a man, anymore. At all. I don't...there's not much food at the camp. What food there is has usually been stolen, or...or hunted."
She was confused. "What does that have to do with-"
"I've eaten rats, Dora." He looked directly at her now, and she was struck by the look of anguish on his face. "I've eaten rats, I've stolen bread, I've - I've-"
"Remus, you're on a mission. You need to survive. If that's what it takes to survive, then that's what you need to do, right? I mean, for your sake I wish you had better access to food, obviously. But don't beat yourself up over stealing some bread here and there; there are far worse things that someone could-"
"No!" She took a reflexive step backwards, surprised by the sudden forcefulness in his voice. "You don't understand. That's not it. The other werewolves, they - they go out on hunts. On full moons. I've tried to convince them to stay behind, to stay in the woods where they won't encounter any humans, but I can't - I'm not making any headway, Dora." He leaned heavily against the wall. "If I insist too much, they start to become suspicious. And I'm - I'm a coward. I fear what will happen on the day they become too suspicious, and so now I pretend as if I'm going to go with them and apparate away at the last second so that I can spend the night of the full moon in the woods. I break my foot to cripple the wolf, and I don't believe I've encountered any humans myself, but I can't - I don't remember, anymore. I wake up each morning afterwards and I have no idea what's happened. And I can't put a stop to what the others are doing." His voice cracked. "I'm failing, Dora, and I don't know - I don't even know what the point is anymore. I'm not making any headway there, I don't truly belong here -"
"Of course you belong here, Remus," she replied. "You've always belonged here."
"If people are getting hurt or killed by the other werewolves, it's my fault," he continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I don't know what else to do to stop them, but I just can't - and I feel so utterly useless." He kept clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides, as if he was trying to control this uncharacteristic outburst of emotion. "I feel useless and disgusting. I am useless and disgusting. I feel like a monster."
"You're not a-"
"Tonks, just listen to me. If you'd seen what I've seen living amongst these other werewolves, you would agree," he snapped. "You wouldn't - you wouldn't even be in the same room as me right now. I've been a fool to think that I could - that someone like me could ever lead a normal life. Sometimes I think - I wonder if I would just be better off dead."
She reached him for the second time that evening in a single quick stride. He jumped, looking down at her with wide eyes as she grabbed his arm more forcefully than she had intended. "Do not ever say that again," she hissed. "I swear to god I will slap you, Remus John Lupin, if you ever say that you'd be better off - that you'd be better off -"
She had never been fully exposed to the depths of his self-loathing like this before, and she wasn't sure she was equipped with the words to properly handle it. Sirius had warned her once, long ago; "Remus is a difficult man to love," he'd said. She'd cracked some joke about the fact that any man who could deal with her clumsiness and off-color sense of humor couldn't be all that bad, but Sirius had gripped her shoulder, and she'd immediately sobered up at the look on his face. "I've never encountered anyone else who thinks of themselves as poorly as Remus does," he'd continued. "He has moments where he's truly happy, I think; moreso now that he's been with you." He'd given her a soft smile. "When he has those moments, it's easy to forget what he's dealt with his whole life, what he's been told his whole life - what he's been telling himself his whole life, about what he is. But I just have to warn you. For both your sake as well as his. If you want to continue in any sort of relationship with Moony, I want you to be properly prepared. It's going to take an enormous amount of work. It's going to get dark."
And how dark it had gotten. She realized she was still gripping his arm, and that he had gone stock-still, but he hadn't pulled away, not yet.
"Never," she began again, voice trembling slightly with fury, "say that you'd be better off dead." He was still looking down at her with slight shock and some other unreadable emotion on his face. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes defiantly. "It's absolutely not true. And I can't bear the thought of - I don't know what I would do if you were - no, let me finish." He'd begun shaking his head. "Why can't you just believe me when I tell you what kind of man you really are? That I want you? I'm still here, aren't I? I'm right here. Isn't this proof that I want to be around you? That I trust you?"
They were standing close enough that Tonks could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and she felt him shift slightly where he stood. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest; after months without seeing him, hearing his voice, or feeling his touch, standing this close to him was nearly too little and too much all at once. She wondered if he was feeling the same. From the slight hitch she heard in his breathing, she had a feeling he was.
"That doesn't change the fact that you deserve -"
"I don't care about what you think I deserve, Remus. I want you. And I'm willing to be patient." Even as he was shaking his head, she saw his eyes dart down to her lips, his pupils dilating.
"Look at what - look at what I've done to you." He lifted a hesitant hand to her shoulder, softly pushing through the mousy brown locks that were resting there. His fingers softly brushed against her cheek and she reached up quickly, holding his hand there.
"This isn't because of you, Remus. It's because of not having you."
He was staring at her again, and she felt his thumb scuff the corner of her mouth. "I still…"
"I understand you have your mission," she said again, taking the slightest step closer to him so that their bodies were practically pressed together. He still hadn't taken a step back. "I know that. But when you come back…" she darted her tongue out to moisten her lips as her mouth had suddenly gone dry, and she felt the tip of her tongue brush lightly against his thumb. It sounded as if he'd nearly stopped breathing at this point. "Maybe you can try to make me pink again, yeah?" His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.
They moved in towards the other at nearly the same time, but he was a fraction quicker; he lowered his head to capture her lips with his, reaching up with his other hand to cradle her cheek. She slid her arms around his neck, hungrily pushing her body completely against his. To be able to hold him again, to kiss him again after so long, despite the pain and uncertainty of their conversation, the pain of his absence, was intoxicating. She wasn't sure she had ever been this overwhelmed with desire in her entire life, it was nearly painful.
She moaned into his mouth, and he pulled back suddenly with a small gasp, as if he had come to his senses. "I'm sorry. I'm - you don't want - after I've been living with - after I've been where I've been, you don't want to touch me," he said anxiously, making to take a step back. She wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement, but either way, she couldn't let him believe that it was true.
She grabbed the front of his jumper. "Don't be ridiculous, of course I do. I've been thinking of nothing but this for the past six months." She kissed him again, winding her hands into his hair. He responded to her kiss, though she could still sense some hesitation. "Touch me, Remus," she breathed, letting her lips linger against his ear. "I want you to touch me. I need you to touch me."
He stared at her for another second, looking slightly dumbfounded before he pressed his lips to hers again.
A small part of her brain reminded her that he was going to leave again after this, that their conversation was far from over, that he'd withdraw again; and yet this didn't feel like a mistake. How could it? It felt simply like an opportunity for her to show him why she felt that way she did, to prove to him that she could feel that way about someone like him. To prove to him how special she thought he was. She would show him how she felt about him, that he still belonged here with her.
They staggered to her small bed, wildly discarding clothing along the way. She made sure to touch every single inch of his body that she could reach; she needed him to feel the same way he made her feel.
"We - this - only if you're sure -" She shushed him.
"I need you," she whispered into his ear again, and was rewarded with a groan as he crawled on top of her, pressing another kiss to her lips.
He made frantic love to her; holding her tightly, one hand wound in her hair as he pressed wet, desperate kisses against her neck, his face buried in the crook of her shoulder. She clung to him, as if she could convince him of just how human he was, just how amazing she thought he was, through the strength of her legs wrapped around his waist. She urged him on breathlessly, whispering in his ear about how much she had missed him, how good he made her feel, how much she loved him. His movements became more urgent at those last three words, his hot breaths against her neck more ragged, and so she kept repeating them: I love you I love you fuck I love you.
He panted something against her shoulder that sounded as if it might have been the words 'I love you too,' then he kissed her fiercely as he came, his tongue clashing with hers. She held his face between her hands as his hips slowed their movements, his body finally becoming still and coming to rest between her thighs. She pulled his head down for another kiss, less frenzied and more languid this time as their breathing slowed, their bodies slick with sweat.
"I love you," she murmured against his lips. He rolled off of her, but immediately reached out to grab ahold of her hand as he did so.
"Dora…" he started. She turned to look at him, and he returned her gaze rather mournfully. "I have to -"
"I know you have to leave again." She swallowed. "That doesn't -"
"I'm sorry," he whispered. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "I'm sorry I've done this to you, I -"
"Please don't say you regret coming here," she said. "I don't regret anything. You haven't 'done anything to me.' I know you have to go. And I wish you saw yourself the way I see you. I wish you would believe me when I say -"
"I know. I'm - I'm trying. It's just difficult for me. But...I love you." He squeezed her hand. "Please don't ever doubt that. I just wish...I wish I could be more for you."
"I don't want you to be more for me, I just want you," she replied matter-of-factly, wriggling around to press a kiss to his jaw. "And I have patience, Remus. I'm willing to wait for you to realize that I mean that. You're bloody frustrating sometimes, but you have to realize that you can't control the way that I feel. So I'd appreciate it if you'd stop trying to do that."
He let out a rather heavy sigh, though he didn't protest this time, which she decided to take as a small victory. They were both silent for a few moments.
"D'you want the rest of your tea?" she asked finally. "I suppose it's rather cold by now, but…"
"No. I want to just - I like laying here with you."
They laid in her bed for what felt like an eternity, legs tangled together beneath the sheets; she was just starting to nod off with her face pressed against his chest when she felt him stir.
"I have to...I should be getting back to the Burrow," he whispered as she raised her head, blinking sleepily. He pushed a sweaty lock of hair away from her face. "I'm sorry. I wish I could stay, but I have to head out early tomorrow, and…"
"Molly will have your head if she found you left without saying goodbye," she finished with a small smile. "It's okay. I understand. I really am glad to see you, Remus. I just wish...it's just hard. I'm always so worried about you. I miss you so much."
"I know. I'm sorry. I'll...perhaps I'll try to write you, this time." He was pulling his clothes back on now. "If I can. I can't...I can't promise anything, but -"
"I know."
"I didn't mean…" he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry to just up and go after...I didn't mean to...I hope you know how much you mean to me, Dora." He gestured to the bed. "I didn't mean to…"
"I know, Remus." She gave him a small smile. "I was a willing participant, and I knew that you'd have to leave. It's okay." She sat up, propping herself up against her pillows. "I meant everything I said. I'll be here for you when you return from the pack. For good." She had no idea what he thought about where they stood in their relationship, or lack thereof; deep down, she knew that she would have to start all over again with her convincing once he returned home permanently, and so she couldn't quite find the energy within her now to instigate that line of conversation. She decided instead to try and cling to the small shred of happiness and relief that had come with finally seeing him again, of being able to touch him again.
He nodded, though he still looked rather pained. He fastened his belt, then leaned down to give her another prolonged, desperate feeling kiss. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach at the fact that he was kissing her as if it were the last time.
He finally pulled back. "Thank you, Dora, for the tea and for - everything. Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas, Remus. Be safe, okay?" He nodded, avoiding her eyes. "And remember that I love you."
He nodded once more, and then he was gone. Again.
She laid back into her pillows, the bed feeling too large and cold now that he was gone. After some tossing and turning, she finally managed to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep, only rousing when she heard an insistent tapping from somewhere in her room.
Raising her head slowly, she blinked the exhaustion from her eyes; everything was still rather dark, but grey early-morning light was beginning to filter in through the window. Tap tap tap. Sitting up even straighter, it took her a moment to realize it was an owl at the window. She felt her heart jump when she recognized it as the Weasley's barn owl. She leapt out of bed and hurried over to let it in.
Pulling the scroll from the bird's leg, it immediately took off again without waiting around for a reply. Tonks tried to stifle the sickening feeling unfurling in her stomach as she unscrolled the parchment, having a feeling that she already knew what it would contain. The words were shaky and blotchy, as if it had been scrawled in a hurry.
Dora,
I wanted to sincerely apologize for my behavior last night. I should never have come by - not because I regret seeing you, because you know I could never regret that - but because I've put you into an unfair position. I don't know what I was thinking. It was entirely selfish of me to take advantage of what you are - what you have been - offering me. I know you say you believe in me and that you love me, and I truly appreciate that, more than you know - but being involved with me, especially now - will be nothing but dangerous and miserable for you.
I know you said several times last night that you would wait for me the next time I come back, but I implore you not to. I am so sorry that I said what I did last night, that I did the things I did last night, as I'm certain I've set back any progress you may have made in trying to move on from our relationship. It is wholly unfair to you and I take complete blame for that.
You deserve someone whole, healthy, and human - someone who has not spent the better part of the past year scrounging around in the dirt for discarded scraps to eat. Living with the pack these past months has only cemented my belief that I could never deserve someone as brave, committed, beautiful, and loving as you. I love you, but please believe me when I say that it is not enough, as I have nothing else to offer you and likely never will.
Please do not write back. It was incredibly difficult for me to write this note as I know I'm just causing you even more pain than I've already inflicted upon you - but that's precisely why you must leave me behind and move on. I've caused nothing but hurt for you, and will continue to cause nothing but hurt, and you deserve so much better than I could ever provide you.
Be safe, and I hope you are able to find true happiness with someone more deserving of your affection and love someday.
Best,
Remus
Though she'd expected this note to come, she hadn't expected it so soon; and so she crumbled the note violently, tossing it onto her desk before falling into her bed, where she sobbed herself back to sleep.
AN: Here's some angst for ya! This ended up becoming longer than I expected, so there will be another chapter after this - and I promise that one will be slightly happier than the mess we've got here :) I hope you're all well, and as always, thanks for reading!