I wasn't planning on writing a follow-up to Ch5 #JustWerewolfThings, but I got the idea for this and it wouldn't let me go (said idea was partly inspired by the fabulous story Metamorphmagus by Lirazel. I highly recommend it). This chapter is quite dark and contains ideas and characterisations I suspect may be controversial. Warnings for that sort of thing, plus language and torture. I hope you enjoy.
"If they try to burn you, may your fire be stronger than theirs so you can burn the whole fucking house down,"
- Morgan Lloyd Malcolm, Emilia
#JustBlackThings
July 1
He waited in the living room for her to arrive home. Being alone in Tonks' flat was strange. She insisted that it was their flat now, but Remus hadn't had time to bring any of his stuff over, save for his toothbrush and a couple of changes of clothes. It still felt like her home, her world. He liked being in her world.
There was a clang and a whizzing noise, and then she was spinning into the fireplace. Remus leapt out of the armchair.
"Hello," he said eagerly, "Code number 7037. You?"
Tonks materialised fully, grabbed the sides of the fireplace to stop herself falling over, and said, "Wotcher. 9413. Crikey, are you a sight for sore eyes,"
She climbed out of the fireplace and into his arms, and Remus leaned down to kiss her hello. After a year apart, kissing her again made him almost dizzy. He wouldn't ever get tired of kissing her. Remus felt her sigh, and then she pulled away and laid her face against his chest. He liked it when she did that. He liked being able to hold her and look down at her and press his lips to the top of her head.
"Are you alright?" Remus asked quietly. There was the bigger question to ask to, but he thought he'd save it until she'd had a minute to relax.
"Yeah, just...knackered," Tonks mumbled into his shirt. She was still wearing her Auror robes over torn jeans and a white t-shirt. Remus liked seeing her in her uniform robes- she looked official and impressive. He moved his hand round from her back to her jaw and titled her face up to kiss her again, softly.
"I put the kettle on for you," he murmured against her mouth.
"Mmm, you're perfect. Could do with something a bit stronger though,"
Remus stamped a final kiss on her cheek, then let her go and followed her into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and rummaged inside, reappearing a moment later with a lime green can.
"Do you fancy one?" she offered. It was one of the revolting tinned cocktails she liked.
"No, thank you,"
"Haven't had time to bloody shop, I haven't got any beer for you,"
"It's fine, we've been busy,"
The last four days had been a whirlwind even without getting engaged, moving in and trying to organise a wedding. Remus had been busy with Order stuff, while Tonks had been doing ten-hour days at the Ministry. It turned out that when Albus Dumbledore died there was a lot of paperwork to complete.
She cracked open the can and took a swig. Then she unclipped the front of her Auror robes, shrugged them off and tossed them onto the kitchen table. The robe hem dropped onto the floor and he bundled it back onto the table. Tonks rolled her eyes.
"Hey, come here," she muttered, jumping up to sit on the kitchen counter. Remus stepped over to her and she pulled him closer, wrapped her legs around his hips and draped her arms around his shoulders.
"I don't care if nobody understands," she murmured, "This is all I need. Just this,"
She was giving him permission to ask. Remus pecked her forehead and wondered how to phrase the question. After considering I assume it went badly, then? and How scared should I be? he played it safe with, "How did it go?"
"Doesn't matter," Tonks mumbled.
"Dora,"
She sighed and looked up at him. "Dad was okay. Shocked, but okay. He wants to meet you and come to the wedding and stuff,"
"That's kind of him," Remus pointed out.
"It's bare minimum," she countered.
"It's complicated. What about your mum?"
Tonks met his eyes, then looked away, put her can down, then took his hand and squeezed it between both of her own. "She threw a fit,"
Remus had expected that, but he still felt an unpleasant dropping sensation in his stomach.
"She doesn't understand," Tonks continued through gritted teeth, "She thinks she knows you but she doesn't know you, so it doesn't matter what she says. I don't need her permission. I don't need her there,"
"Did you tell her that?" he asked. He felt cold. He knew this would happen- Andromeda would shocked and sickened, she'd say Tonks was either stupid, mad or had been manipulated into the marriage. Since Andromeda knew her daughter wasn't stupid or crazy, she's assume manipulation. She'd assume Remus was conniving and controlling. She probably thought that he was feral, that he drank too much, he didn't wash. That he was selfish and untrustworthy. He was violent. He'd bite her to turn her into a monster too. It was a difficult assessment to argue with, since it was true for the werewolves Remus had spent almost a year living amongst.
"Of course I did. I told her if she said anything else about you I'd walk out and never come back,"
His stomach dropped further. "Dora, you didn't,"
"Yeah, I did and I meant it," she re-iterated.
"I don't want to antagonise your family. I want to-"
"-and she knows I meant it because it's what she did Dad. She thinks she's different to the rest of them but if she believes that crap about you then she's just as prejudiced as her sisters," Tonks growled.
"There's a different between marrying a Muggle-born and marrying a werewolf," Remus pointed out. Even these days, the two were barely comparable.
"There's not a difference in meeting a really, really special guy and knowing what you have with him is more important than some stupid prejudice your parents have. She knows exactly what that's like,"
She called him special a lot. Remus never knew how to respond, because as far as he was concerned he was boring, and the one thing which made him different didn't mean he was special- it meant he was dirty and dangerous.
Dora was squeezing his hand even tighter now, so hard that it hurt. He'd forgotten, while he'd been away, how intense she could be.
"At least you've got telling them over with," he said wearily, groping for something positive to say.
"We're still going over for tea tomorrow evening," Tonks added, "Sorry, I should have lead with that,"
"Good,"
He slipped his hand out from between hers, used it to push her hair behind her ear, and dolloped a kiss to the side of her nose. She still had her legs hooked around his hips. Even when she was being difficult, touching and kissing and being affectionate with her felt soothing and uplifting and that damn word "special". It felt like home. Dora didn't need him telling her off, Remus reminded himself- she needed him to listen to her. The only way they were going to get anywhere with her mother was through compromise, and to be able to compromise with Andromeda he'd have to compromise with Dora, and he could compromise best with her best if he was extra loving and sweet to get her onside.
"Let's chill out on the sofa and I'll tell you the Order news," Remus suggested.
Tonks giggled. "Did you just say 'chill out'?"
He waggled his eyebrows at her. She looked back, half-grin, half-awe. Remus was still bowled over that he was in the receiving end of that look. It was not, he thought gloomily, the sort of look he expected to receive from her mother.
"Then we can go to the shops and buy some food," he added, "Okay?"
"Okay," she whispered (she was really sexy when she whispered). She gave him another kiss, then hopped off the counter, picked up her can and led the way back into the living room. But as she opened the kitchen door again, he heard her mutter under her breath, "I won't see her. And she knows I'll do it because it's exactly what she did before".
July 2
He still smirked sometimes, remembering Sirius spending half an hour insisting to Professor Mayhewer that California was the capital of Transylvania.
"You know that's not true," James had pointed out that afternoon as they traipsed back up to the common room.
"Of course it is,"
"James is right," Remus corroborated.
"You're both idiots," Sirius declared, "Peter agrees with me, don't you?"
"Umm," murmured Peter.
"See, that's two against two and my vote counts for more 'cos I'm the oldest. California is the capital city of Transylvania.
James and Remus rolled their eyes at each other.
"Your funeral," Remus sighed.
His best friend had always had impenetrable conviction. If Sirius decided he was right, then Sirius was right and woe betide anybody who tried to argue. It was that conviction which kept Padfoot pushing through the Animagi project when the rest of them thought it was too difficult. In hindsight, Remus saw that it was conviction which helped Sirius stay sane when at home with his family. It was certainly conviction which made him run away from them at sixteen. It was conviction in his friendship and fury which made him hunt down Wormtail, conviction of his own innocence which kept him sane through those long years in prison surrounded by Dementors, and conviction in his duties as godfather which made him escape and fight to the death to protect Harry. And it was conviction which had made him insist on coming to the Ministry to rescue his godson. Sirius Black lived and died with conviction.
Remus had seen it in Sirius' mother too- that damn portrait which refused to budge and held her Pureblood convictions even after death. He'd seen the way Sirius' cousin Bellatrix looked at her Lord, too. Her conviction was horrifying.
But worse than Bellatrix's fanaticism or the screeching portrait or Sirius' self-destructive conviction, was Dora standing in front of him, arms folded tightly across her chest, telling him through gritted teeth that she was having their baby, "Money or no money, war or no war, werewolf or no werewolf".
Remus wanted to argue, and he would, but he could tell it was pointless. He knew that conviction, that look in the eye. She was keeping the baby and nothing would change her mind.
Remus reckoned that that was the moment he knew he had to leave.
August
His first full moon since going away and coming back had hurt less than usual. Ironic, since he was pretty sure he deserved the pain this time. It was over now and he was in sprawled bed, plasters and bandages patched over his limbs, while his wife sat cross-legged on the bed beside him, holding his hand and running her thumb over his knuckles. Remus had let her stay with him in the aftermath, and Tonks had surprised him by being nervy and hesitant about what to do. She usually wanted to mollycoddle him, so her unsureness was unnerving. Perhaps she was unwell too- what if something had happened, something had….changed?
Remus lifted his head off the pillow and looked over at her. "You didn't feel anything, did you?" he croaked.
"What do you mean?"
He swallowed. "Last night. Did it feel like something was changing inside you?"
Tonks' thumb stopped moving on his skin. "No,"
The answer should have given Remus comfort, but it didn't. "Oh," he sighed.
"I promise I'll tell you if I suspect it's a werewolf," Dora told him seriously, "And I promise you, right now I'm sure it isn't,"
Remus sighed again. She was always telling him how kind he was, but it was beyond kind to stay with, hold hands with, nurse and heal a man who had been a monster two hours before, and who had recently tried to leave her and her baby for good. He didn't deserve somebody as generous and understanding as her. At least the baby would be hers as well as his, Remus thought. That'd give it some hope.
"I'll love it whatever happens," Remus promised himself aloud, "I won't run away again. I'll be here if it's a werewolf or a Metamorphmagus or a Squib,"
He was in this for good now. If Dora was wrong, or lying to reassure him (even her lies were kind) and their child was a werewolf, he would protect it and help it. His own parents had managed it, so he and Dora could too. They'd have to, for the child. They'd love it- he'd love it- no matter what.
Tonks gripped his hand tightly. "Remus. Our baby will not be a Squib,"
"I'd take a Squib over a werewolf. At least it'd be healthy,"
He'd take anything over a werewolf, but he'd stay whatever happened.
Dora squeezed his hand to make him look at her. Her eyes were serious, almost glaring. It was an expression which reminded Remus that however caring she was being while he was ill, she was still livid with him for leaving.
"No," she said coldly, "There are no Squibs in this family".
October
An odd thing that had developed over the last few weeks was a friendship with Bill and Fleur Weasley. Dora had known Bill at school, and Remus supposed they liked the same music and clothes. He had to admit too, that although Tonks and Fleur seemingly had very little in common and he'd always thought that they found each other irritating, perhaps they could relate to each other. They both looked different after all, and they took pride in their magical appearances. They were both married to victims of Fenrir Greyback, although everybody knew that Bill, and by extension Fleur, had got off more lightly.
The four of them had been to the pub for the evening and were now walking back towards Tinworth. Remus grimaced when he thought of how strange he must look next to all these young people- Dora had pointed out a few times that Bill was six years older than Fleur, but that was still eleven years younger than Remus. Tonks was nattering to Bill about some musician, and Remus had fallen into step behind Fleur. She wasn't especially easy to talk to, and Remus got the impression that she, like him, didn't entirely understand how he'd ended up in their group. When the four of them had been chatting in the pub, Remus had things to say to Fleur, but with Dora and Bill talking amongst themselves, he was drawing a blank. In the uneasy silence, Remus listened to what the others were saying in front of them.
"These are cool houses, aren't they?" Tonks was observing cheerfully, "Me and Remus might have to move when the baby's born. I'd be cool to have a proper big house, wouldn't it?"
"I wouldn't know," smirked Bill. The scars across his face had given his smile an odd bump in the middle.
"That's bollocks, the Burrow's huge," scoffed Tonks.
"That's because there's the nine of us, three owls and about ten hangers-on round at any one time. Mum keeps trying to trick me into saying I miss it, but I prefer the quiet,"
"I guess that happens when you grow up with the twins,"
"Exactly. You're an only child, you don't know the struggle,"
"On the other hand, I'm now an only child living with my husband and my Mum, with no siblings around to dilute the awkwardness," Dora pointed out.
"She's still not convinced about Remus, then?" sighed Bill.
"She's getting there," Dora shrugged, then continued bracingly, "When this is over we'll all probably get Order of Merlins for being in the Order, so we'll be able to afford a new house. Hopefully Dad'll be able to come home by then, too,"
Remus had always loved her flippant optimism, although wasn't sure where all this house talk was coming from. She'd never mentioned an interest in the subject before; she'd asked him to move into her flat once they were engaged, and now they were mostly living with Andromeda. The thought of moving into a new place together hadn't occurred to Remus.
"Since when do you get money for an Order of Merlin?" questioned Bill.
"Not for the OM itself, but you do publicity for it, interviews and stuff," Dora explained, "Even Mad-Eye did a few. And then me and Remus can get a nice big house in Trafford,"
Perhaps Tonks had always liked houses and just hadn't mentioned it before, Remus thought. Or maybe she'd had a phase when she was younger, and the pregnancy and the sort-of move to Andromeda's had made her think about it again. Her brain was like that; she often came out with a ridiculous story or an unexpected nugget of information. Remus always learnt things when he was with her, and he was always learning more about her. His wife was constantly surprising and bamboozling him. Remus hoped she'd never stop.
December
She was still talking about houses a few weeks later. It was a Friday evening and Dora was sitting on the sofa beside him, chattering on about where they could move to. Remus had stopped listening- sometimes he liked to switch off to what his wife was saying and just watch the way she moved, the gestures she made with her hands and the shapes words made in her mouth. Tonks was fascinating to look at. She'd been putting on weight lately, although since they weren't sharing a bed anymore Remus hadn't had the opportunity to look closer this week. They started out trying to have one night a week back at the flat, though that had fallen by the wayside amongst the pre-Christmas busyness. Remus missed Tonks spooning up behind him and putting her hand over his heartbeat. He missed waking up with her beside him, knowing she was safe (although he didn't miss her twitching and fidgeting in her sleep, and accidentally kicking him awake when she got up). A few minutes ago he'd been lying with his head on her lap on the sofa, but then her mother had walked in and Remus sat up abruptly and shifted away so they weren't even touching. Dora rolled her eyes, but it was better to be safe than sorry with Andromeda, especially as she seemed to be gradually coming round to him of late. (Truthfully, Remus have moved away from his wife regardless of whoever it had been entering the room; he didn't like anybody seeing them like that).
"Remus?" said Tonks' voice, interrupting his thoughts.
He jolted. "Pardon?"
"Daydreaming again?" Dora smirked, then explained, "I was talking about the baby's bedroom. What colour should we paint it?"
He didn't understand. "Is it going to have a bedroom?"
"Hypothetically," Tonks clarified, as if this was obvious.
"Red?" Remus suggested absently. He loved her when she was like unpredictable like this, asking questions he'd never even thought of. Throwing curveballs, making his brain work in ways it had never had to before he met her.
"Womb-like. It'll feel right at home," Dora nodded, making him snort with laughter. Then she clicked her fingers and said with realisation, "You're only saying that 'cos red for Gryffindor,"
That hadn't occurred to him. "No. It's a nice colour," Remus shrugged, scanning his brain for more reasons to paint the child's room red, "It's welcoming. Warm. It works for a boy or a girl,"
They didn't know if they were having a girl or a boy; Tonks insisted that it should be a surprise (of course she did. She liked surprises. Things like that hammered home their age difference; she was open and unjaded) and she didn't mind either way. Remus wanted a girl. He wanted a child who was as different to him as possible. Not his gender, not his looks, not his Hogwarts house and please, please not his dirty, cursed beast-blood. He wanted the baby to be like her, get everything from her, and nothing from him.
"This still sounds like Gryffindor propaganda to me. I'm painting its room Hufflepuff yellow, then," Dora needled.
Remus could tell she wanted him to argue. They both enjoyed pointless arguments like this; working around one another, trying to get a step ahead, having to consider what on Earth it was like in the other person's head (her head, Remus reckoned, was probably not on Earth). But he didn't want to argue about this. She thought she was teasing him but in his mind it was a threat; a taunt that the baby would inherit his curse.
"You really are dozy today, aren't you?" said Tonks, breaking into his thoughts again, "Do you want to go to bed?"
(The full moon was five days away). The concern in her voice was touching; Remus still sometimes had to pinch himself that he was cared about this much by another human being.
"I'm fine," he muttered.
"Alright," Dora nodded, "Yellow walls, then?"
"What about the walls you have in your room?"
Tonks' old bedroom, where Remus was sleeping, had a kind of paint on the walls which changed colour every few hours throughout the day and night. This morning the wall facing Remus's bed had been orange, the two either side had been purple, and the wall behind the bed had been grey.
"I found the tub a few months ago and it said not suitable for under 5s' bedrooms. Messes up their vision development or something," Dora explained, pulling a face.
"Ah, right," he murmured. Glancing at her, Remus remembered that she was looking for a silly argument. He'd give her one.
"Why not brown for Hufflepuff?" he suggested, throwing her a teasing smirk.
"Brown?"
"Yes,"
"Remus, I'm not giving birth to a mole,"
He snorted again for a moment, until his brain taunted that no, it wasn't a mole, it was a werewolf. Remus tried to push the thought away. There wasn't anything he could do about that now.
"Brown is a warm colour too," he pointed out, "And your child's probably going to get mud all over the walls, so at least it'll hide that,"
"I'll grant you that brown walls will be useful when it's in nappies," grinned Tonks.
"It might not be Hufflepuff or Gryffindor colours," interjected Andromeda unexpectedly, "It could be a Slytherin,"
It took Remus a moment to realise what she meant.
"Yes, it might be," he agreed softly. All Blacks, almost, on its grandmother's side. That hadn't occurred to Remus before. It had taken him a few weeks to realise that the baby would be related to Sirius; something like his first cousin twice removed. It was a bizarre, funny and warm idea.
Their baby might be a Slytherin, Remus considered, but that didn't matter to him. He knew better than most people that labels weren't defining. Besides, their child's sorting was twelve years away. There were far more important things to worry about before then.
"D'you want it to get into Slytherin, Mum?" Tonks demanded.
"If Slytherin is right for it. Why, do you not?" Andromeda shot back.
"I'd prefer Hufflepuff, obviously. Yellow's better colour than green for a bedroom, and Dad said the common room's much nicer," Tonks shrugged (Andromeda, Dora had once told him, had sometimes given Ted the Slytherin common room password so they could meet there at night). The comment sounded blasé, just Dora wanting to get her own way as usual. There wasn't a baby's room to paint- it was, as Tonks had said, hypothetical. But the sharpness in her tone, and the haughty look Andromeda shot her as the former turned back to her newspaper, made Remus consider that perhaps he was the only one who was nervous about what they'd pass on to the baby.
"Well," said Andromeda, with a hint of something confusing and cold and hurt, "Children rarely do what parents would prefer,"
She turned the page in her newspaper. Remus resisted the urge to look over to his wife with a what did that mean? expression. He didn't know who his mother-in-law was referring to, or if it was a general point. It was often difficult to tell with Andromeda; she was almost as good at disguise as her daughter. Surely Tonks wouldn't mind if the baby was a Slytherin? Surely Andromeda didn't really want it to be- she wouldn't mind either way?
Frowning, Remus picked his mug up from the coffee table. The curse in his blood was the biggest threat to their child, that much was obvious. But, he thought, taking a sip of tea, that didn't mean that there weren't other sorts of curses- ones not caused by wands or bites, but by family, rivalry, secrets, pride, history and envy.
His was not the only scar.
February
Three days after they got the letter telling them that Ted had been killed, Remus' wife went outside after teatime and sat in the garden. The first time, he'd followed her out and asked if she needed anything, but Dora had snapped at him to leave her alone and he did as she asked, leaving the door on latch for her. She did the same thing the following day, and the next, and Remus left her to it. She usually came inside after half an hour or so, looking a bit tearful, and went upstairs to her room. Today was the fifth day, and it was drizzling outside so Remus risked popping into the garden to offer his wife her anorak. Wordlessly, she took it and pulled it on. Remus left her to it and began to walk back towards the house, when Tonks said unexpectedly: "Stay here a minute,"
He came back over and sat down beside her on the damp patio. He didn't mind damp. He was used to damp.
Tonks was fiddling with her wand. "Have you ever used the Cruciatus before?" she asked.
He hadn't expected that. "No,"
She held out her hand to him, and Remus saw a brown beetle scurrying over her index finger.
"There you go," Dora offered.
Remus almost laughed, but she shoved her wand further towards his face and he saw that she was being serious. He found that the damp patio was suddenly very uncomfortable, and the weather was far too cold.
"No," he said stiffly.
"Mad-Eye did it on me on practically first day, and it's as good as legal now anyway,"
"Mad-Eye put the Cruciatus on you?" Remus echoed.
"Yeah," said Tonks, in an irritatingly exaggerated tone, "Not every week, but a couple of times. Your first time was in a duel, wasn't it?
"My only time," Remus clarified, "Yes,"
It had been during the last war, not long after James' parents died. Remus had been doing some Order work with Peter- nothing dangerous, just some surveillance, and the two of them had gone for a drink together after Caradoc and Emmeline took over to watch. They'd been chatting over a pint in the Leaky Cauldron when the door flung open and Rowle and Gibbon had burst in, tipped over a table and started yelling and blasting curses. A few customers had run forward to defend themselves, and Remus had called to Peter to take the others out of the back exit to safety. There had been perhaps five of them, including Remus, against the two Death Eaters, but Rowle and Gibbon had a time advantage, and within seconds one of the drinkers who'd come to help Remus was disarmed and another was stupefied. Remus had attempted to stun Gibbon, but before he could there'd been a ripping pain in his bones, like when he was transforming into the wolf, but more acute, like a stabbing. The pain had only lasted a few moments and then he'd collapsed on the floor. By the time he could sit up again, the pub was half-destroyed and the Death Eaters had left.
Limping home with Peter a couple of hours later, it had occurred to Remus that considering he had a pretty high pain threshold and was used (if that was the word) to feeling his limbs contorted, his experience of the Cruciatus must have been less intense than most people's. Although a more intense sensation was difficult to imagine; it had been so sudden and painful overwhelming. James had asked Remus about it later and Sirius had smacked James round the head and told him to shut up.
"Well, you can understand why it's best to know what it's going to feel like before it hits you unexpectedly when you're duelling," Dora explained, back in the garden.
"I understand, I'm just surprised,"
Of course it'd be a part of Auror training- how were they to understand what an unforgiveable curse was if they hadn't experienced it themselves?- but Remus hadn't thought about it like that before. The mental image which swam into his head wasn't hugely abhorrent: he'd imagined Dora being tortured hundreds of times before- by Bellatrix, by Voldemort, by himself under the Imperious curse- so placing Mad-Eye in the picture, torturing her as part of a consensual training exercise, wasn't as bad.
She laughed. "You didn't know him at work. Anyway, come on, let this beetle pop your Crucio cherry,"
Her relationship with Mad-Eye had had an edge to it- the jibes they threw at each other, the shorthand, the understanding they had of when to question and when to obey, the toughness, the loyalty- which perhaps, Remus considered, only came through the sort of training where they had been required to torture each other.
"No," he repeated.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to torture something,"
"They teach it at Hogwarts now, haven't you heard what Ginny's been saying?" Tonks scoffed. He hated her patronising tone.
"Death Eaters teach it at Hogwarts," Remus pointed out, then changed the subject, "Why don't you come inside, you're getting chilly out here,"
He wasn't sure what was going on, but he didn't like it.
"I'm fine. Don't you want to know what it feels like?" Dora asked. There was far too much relish in her voice.
"Do you mind if we don't talk about this?" Remus asked uncomfortably.
"What else d'you think I've been doing out here?" she asked.
"What?"
"I've been thinking about Dad," Dora explained, "I bet they tortured him, I know they did. So I've been practising out here. It's making me feel kind of better,"
Once Remus registered her words, it was the ambivalence in her tone which shocked him the most. Tonks must have caught on to him shock because she looked at him and rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't go all professor on me. They did it to my dad so I reckon I'm allowed to do it to insects,"
It was such a bizarre comment that Remus almost laughed. But the look in her eye was deadly serious and her tone suggested that he was being pathetic. Remus could have kicked himself. How easily he overlooked who her family were, the ruthlessness of her aunts and cousins, the violence throughout the bloodline. It was a eye for an eye, always, with the Blacks. How could he have forgotten that about her? Underneath all the daftness and the pink hair and the Auror robes and the fact that she made him so incredibly happy, the Blackness was always lurking.
"I'm going to put the kettle on and run you a bath and you can come inside and relax," Remus announced, getting to his feet and trying to push away thoughts of Grimmauld Place and Sirius' mother, and the fact that Dora was torturing things with their baby inside her.
Tonks laughed nastily. "You don't want to deal with me doing this. You want me to be sad and crying, like a nice grieving wife," she accused, voice dripping with derision, "Well, sorry, because I'm not all fucking weepy and mopey, you can't just give me a hug and make everything better. I'm angry, I'm so fucking angry at them all, and I'm staying out here to torture spiders, okay?"
For a second, Remus thought she was blatantly wrong. He wanted to snap at her to stop acting like a child. He wanted to roll is eyes and ask irritably why she always had to be so dramatic. He wanted to lift her up and take her inside and hold her in his lap until she feel asleep. He wanted to drop to his knees and beg her to stop, please just stop, couldn't she see this was how Bellatrix had started? Insects one day, mice the next, cats then dogs then human beings. But wasn't that it? Tonks was like Bellatrix, and like Sirius and Narcissa all the rest. Remus didn't like the Black part of his wife, and he'd pushed it away rather than confront it. Rather than accept it. It wasn't going away- this was who, what she was and he couldn't change it. She had insisted again and again that it didn't matter to her that he was a werewolf. Was he going to let it matter to him that she was a Black? She couldn't help who her family were, any more than he could help having been bitten. Love, he knew, was as much about the "despite" as it was about the "because".
Tonks reached up and batted a tear away from her face. Remus swallowed. He trusted her, didn't he? He trusted that if this was how it had started with Bellatrix, with Dora it would stop before it went further. She knew where to stop. She could choose to stop it- she had already, for years. She'd chosen a side. Shouldn't he, of all people, understand that?
Remus stood between the door and his wife for a moment. Then he stepped over to her, put a hand on her shoulder, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She was right that he didn't like her grieving like this. But it was her grief, not his.
"Alright," he muttered softly, "You do what you need to do. I'll be waiting inside".
April
She'd shown him her real face once before. He hadn't asked but she'd told him she needed to show him something. The pink hair and olive skin melted away and her features had lengthened and sharpened, becoming more elegant. Her eyes were the same shape as Sirius'. Objectively, he knew the face looking back at him was good-looking- more handsome than pretty, and certainly striking- but that was difficult to admit when it looked so much like that other face. The face which glowed around its Master and shrieked as it tortured. The face which, unbeknownst to Remus then, in a few week's time would cackle as it sent his best friend through the veil. Remus had told his wife- she'd been his girlfriend back then- that it didn't matter what she looked like and whichever face she chose would be her real face to him. He'd been telling the truth, and he hadn't thought about her other face for months. Except now Tonks was panting and groaning on her mother's bed, face contorted and breath heaving as she tried to push the baby out. She was sweating and swearing and pounding her fist on the mattress. Remus kept promising her that he knew she could do it and that it would be over soon and they'd have their baby. But as he looked at her he couldn't help but think how much the maddened, ferocious look on his wife's face was the same expression he'd seen on the face of Bellatrix Lestrange.
May
"Okay," she whispered, "I'll stay here,"
Remus exhaled heavily. "Thank you," he croaked. Harry needed as many people as possible, but he didn't need her. She had to stay safe, she had to stay with Teddy.
Tonks, who had been pacing nervously up and down, came to a sudden stop in front of Remus, and reached up to grip his shoulders.
"If You-Know-Who kills Harry, they'll have won for good, right?" she intoned, "And they will find Teddy and they will hurt him,
Remus nodded. "I know,"
"Look at me," she told him. He met her eyes.
"So there's no thinking about killing anymore. You just do it, understand?" Tonks instructed.
It wasn't about killing, not yet. For the moment the Order needed to get the students out of school, protect Hogwarts, and buy Harry some time.
"Harry's looking for something, he needs time, he needs defending," Remus pointed out. He didn't have time to argue with Dora any longer- they'd wasted minutes deciding which one of them would stay behind, and he had to say goodbye properly to her and Teddy. That would be difficult enough.
"Yeah, from the people who want to kill him and kill you and kill your son," said Tonks, shaking him slightly, "Either that or they'll send him away to Greyback,"
She let go of his shoulders, ran a hand through her hair and continued, "I thought about this the day he was born. When you were out at Bill and Fleur's, I was watching him sleep and I realised how much easier it is to hurt people now. Mad-Eye always said you should consider your options, but there's no option when it comes to him, is there?"
Remus didn't reply.
"Is there?" Tonks snarled, glaring at him.
"No," he agreed. Didn't she realise that he understood what was at stake? Didn't she remember what he'd told Harry the night Mad-Eye died? If it came down to it Remus would fight, he would kill. He didn't need to think of Teddy to do that.
"Exactly. I want you to remember how he cries and imagine what it'll sound like when it's Bellatrix torturing him. Don't think she won't do that- if it's my baby she would. She'd love it, she'd probably get turned on by it,"
He winced, and Tonks must have noticed because she snapped, "That's why I'm saying this, because I want you to be thinking about it when you're there, so that you don't stop for a second,"
No, he thought sadly, she was saying this because she was a Black. Ruthlessness, violence and torture were a part of her.
"I know," Remus nodded, trying to move the conversation on. He had to leave soon, and he didn't want their last few minutes together to be like this. He wanted her to be teasing him, asking him annoying questions, kissing him, making him laugh, cuddling their baby together, instead of thinking of what would happen if he didn't come home. He wanted to say goodbye to her when she was being funny and mischievous and kind, not Black.
"Promise me you'll remember what they'll do to him?" Tonks insisted, and he noticed that she didn't look afraid. How strange she was.
"I promise,"
Dora pulled him to her and hugged him tighter that Remus could ever remember her holding him before. She threaded a hand into his hair and said through gritted teeth, "You say I have to stay here because I have to look after him 'cos I'm a mum now. But 'cos I'm a mum now it means there's nothing that could stop me from trying to kill them all,"
Was it because she was a mother, Remus wondered, or was it because she was a Black? Mothers would kill, but they did not, generally, see violence as an incentive or a goal. Is that what Dora was doing? But he needed to leave soon and there were more important things to be thought and said. Remus pushed the questions to the back of his mind; he needed to focus now.
But if he'd have lived, he'd have thought about her words again later. There's nothing that could stop me. Conviction, disobedience, arrogance, violence. He should have known that she was never going to stay at her mother's house with the baby for long.
Thanks for reading. Perhaps surprisingly given the content, I've really enjoyed writing this chapter. Please review to let me know if you liked it too. If you want to read more about what a complicated, brilliant, frightening thing it is to be a Black, please check out my story Magpies. Thank you.
