Warnings for sex, language, and werewolves. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
"[Lupin] swung constantly between elation that he was married to the woman of his dreams and terror of what he might have brought upon them both"
-JK Rowling on Pottermore
When the world has dealt its cards,
If the hand is hard, together we'll mend your heart,
Because when the sun shines, we'll shine together,
Told you I'd be here forever,
Said I'll always be your friend.
- Rihanna, Umbrella
Married Life: Phobos
Married life hasn't turned out how Tonks anticipated, although most things haven't turned out how she expected them to.
Their wedding day was Saturday 12th July 1997. She wants to write it on every parchment she can find, mark it on every calendar, tattoo it on her arms. 120797, 120797. Remus had a meltdown that evening and they'd spent their wedding night talking and sharing stories. Back in the Hufflepuff dormitories when Tonks was a teenager, her friends had chatted about their dream wedding night- and Tonks' definitely had not featured holding her new husband while he cried and assuring him that their wedding had not ruined her life. Remus hadn't been much better when they'd made their way home on Sunday (a honeymoon wasn't on the cards). He was half-subdued and half-jittery, and he kept shooting Tonks nervous glances. He stayed quiet, and Tonks wasn't sure if that was a relief or more of a worry.
As usual, Remus was still asleep when she left for work on Monday morning. Tonks looked at him, curled in bed, hair looking greyer against the white pillow. It'll work itself out, she promised herself, he needs to adjust. Remus wasn't like her, he needed time to get used to change. He'd come round.
Everybody had agreed that given Scrimgeour's anti-werewolf leanings, their marriage was best kept secret outside of families and the Order. At work, therefore, Tonks had to pretend that she'd had an ordinary weekend doing the gardening and hanging out with friends. Kingsley normally stayed away from her at work, but he gave her a beam as he strolled into the office that morning. Most of the day was taken up filing the paperwork from the previous weeks' arrests and investigations. The previous week. When she hadn't been married. Before Saturday 12th July 1997. Tonks felt herself glow in spite of everything.
When she got home that evening, she'd barely had time to step out of the fireplace before Remus dashed into the living room, grabbed her and kissed her hungrily. His mouth was insistent and his hands were everywhere and she felt him scoop her up and carry her into the bedroom. He tossed her on the bed and climbed on top and "Yes," Tonks mumbled, "Finally". He was pulling at her t-shirt and stroking her waist, kissing her again and again.
"Wait," she murmured, pushing him away for a moment while she yanked her gloves off, took off the necklace she'd been keeping her wedding ring on at work, unhooked the ring and slipped it back on her finger.
Remus beamed and pressed the ring to his lips, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles in that lovely way he always did. "My wife,"
Then his mouth was back on hers, on her jaw, her throat. He was rummaging in her shirt and sliding his hands up her back to unhook her bra. He'd never been like this before- Tonks had no idea what was with him but she wasn't complaining. She groped for his belt and shirt buttons but he stopped her.
"No. Just you,"
"I-"
"Shh," he mumbled. He'd never shushed her before and Tonks would have snapped at him for it, except he continued, "Just you this time. Okay?"
He stamped a kiss to her mouth.
"Okay," she agreed. Remus beamed and peeled her clothes off and kissed her all over, mumbling that she was beautiful, he wanted her, he loved her. His touch was tantalisingly light and his kisses started softly sweet then became hot and open-mouthed. He was saying all these things to her that he hadn't said like this before, and they were married now, he was hers forever, and his tongue and his fingers were on her, inside her, teasing and stroking and loving. She'd never come so hard in her life. Then he let her undress him, and crawled over her again and made fast, frantic love to her. The headboard smacked against the wall but they were sighing and laughing and moaning too loud to notice. Afterwards Tonks was breathless and glowing and God, could they do that again please?
"That was good," she breathed after, as Remus mouthed languid kissed against her neck, "This isn't like you,"
Remus peeled his face away from her neck and looked at her (Merlin's beard, he was handsome. How on Earth did she get this lucky?). He cocked a mischievously questioning eyebrow, and she giggled.
"No, not like that like that. I mean what's brought all this on?"
Remus grinned his rarely-seen Marauder grin and said, "I fucking love you,"
Tonks had hardly ever heard him swear, and even then only the odd 'bloody' or 'bastard' under his breath. If this was a new version of Remus who swore and instigated frantic sex then count her in.
Tonks didn't say that out loud. Instead, she grinned back and replied, "Good, because I love fucking you,"
Remus burst out laughing, spluttering so hard he had to pull out of her and flop onto his back on the mattress, and they guffawed together at the daft joke until the laughter became lost in kisses. They spent the rest of the evening in bed, only getting up to collect the pizza they ordered in because neither could be bothered to cook. Back in the bedroom, Remus produced the bottle of champagne the Weasleys had sent.
"I'll get some glasses," he said, starting to stand up.
Tonks put her hand on his arm. "I don't think we'll need them,"
She winked and he smirked, handing her the bottle.
Tonks put her hand over his. "Together?"
"Together,"
She snuggled closer to him, giggling, and pressed a kiss to his jaw. "I'm crazy about you,"
Remus beamed, kissed her back, and they popped the cork loudly so that the champagne sputtered out of the bottle. They drank it straight from the bottleneck and poured it over each other to lick off. Usually Remus could only manage one round of sex a day, but they made love again, sticky and tipsy from the champagne. Tonks climbed on top, panting that he looked incredible, he tasted and smelt and felt incredible, everything was incredible.
The next four days were what Tonks was pretty sure were the definition of wedded bliss. Remus smiled constantly and told her over and over that he loved her. Panic at the Ministry was reaching fever-pitch, but what did that matter when Tonks came home to find that Remus had picked flowers for the kitchen table, sketched a portrait of her, or doodled silly comic strips starring them both? He cooked, he fixed the leak in the bathroom ceiling Tonks meant to sort out months ago, and on Wednesday afternoon he flicked the radio on and pulled her into a dance around the kitchen, dolloping kisses on her and chuckling when she trod on his toes. Evenings were spent snuggled on the sofa, talking and snogging and laughing. They had hot, loving sex every night, and afterwards they'd fall asleep in each other's arms while Remus gazed at her with a dopey smile. I knew this would happen, Tonks thought proudly, I knew I'd make you truly happy.
The full moon was due on Sunday, so by Friday morning he was getting fatigued and achy. When Tonks got home in the afternoon, Remus was lying on his back on the living room floor with his head resting on a stack of books. His eyes were shut, but his breathing was too controlled for him to be asleep.
"Back pain?" Tonks asked, recognising the position as one he used to take the weight off his neck.
"Hmmpf," he croaked, half-acknowledgement and half-groan, "Turns out lumbago isn't one of those things that feels different after you get married,"
Tonks laughed, sat down cross-legged on the floor, took his hand and kissed it. Remus' eyes fluttered open momentarily as he gave her a weak smile. "Anything happen at work?"
"Everything happened at work," she told him, keeping hold of his hand, "Security's gone through the roof. Scrimgeour came round to our office today to give us all a stern word,"
"They're the only kind of words he has," Remus noted.
"Thank God for Kingsley. He left me a note to say congrats today, and he sends you his best. Have you eaten?"
"I had soup for lunch,"
"I picked up some chicken breast and spuds on the way home,"
"Thanks,"
"Also perhaps a bar of chocolate or two,"
His eyes flickered open again. "You're wonderful,"
Tonks pressed another kiss to the back of his hand. "So are you,"
"Please don't burn dinner,"
"Oi," she protested. He was much better at cooking than she was. She was about to say something else, but Remus winced.
"You good?" she asked.
Remus screwed his face up, made the noise again then exhaled. Then he said, "I think you mean 'Are you well?',"
She rolled her eyes, but was relieved that he wasn't too ill to correct her grammar. "Thanks, Professor. What shall we do tonight?"
He considered for a while. Then he said, "Do you think you could read to me?"
"Yeah. Course I will,"
Remus squeezed her hand, "Thank you,"
The book he was reading that week was a Muggle novel called The House of Mirth. He was two-thirds of the way through so Tonks didn't have much idea what was going on, and the story seemed pretty boring anyway. But Remus liked boring books. It was American so Tonks performed it in an assortment of American accents, which made him laugh, and making Remus laugh was the best thing she could do for him. He perked up after dinner and they had another happy evening nestled on the sofa, his head in her lap, kissing her fingers while they listened to the radio. Remus went to bed early, telling her that he'd likely still be awake when she came to bed later.
"So don't worry about being quiet," he added.
"Nah, I'll kip on the sofa,"
"Don't be daft,"
"I'm not. You're tired, you're ill, you need the space,"
"I'm not turfing you out of your own bed," Remus protested.
"Not mine. It's ours now,"
He gave Tonks one of those looks which made her stomach do something which was probably a flutter but about fifty times more violent. She wasn't sure what he was going to say next, and she didn't think she wanted to hear it.
"We both know you're going to be awake tossing and turning all night, and I want to sleep," she said firmly, "I'll have the sofa,"
Remus considered. Eventually he said in a resigned sort of voice, "If you insist,"
He didn't sound happy about it, but he fetched her the spare duvet anyway.
Sunday evening rolled around. The moon was set to rise at six minutes to nine. At half eight Remus was sitting on the bed, eyes closed, inhaling and exhaling steadily. Tonks was leaning on the doorframe, watching.
When he realised she was there he said miserably, "You've never seen me do this without Wolfsbane,"
"No,"
"I'll apparate off to the forest at about twenty minutes before moonrise,"
"Which forest?"
"Sometimes Galloway, sometimes Kielder. Argyll on occasion. Variety is the spice of werewolf transformations,"
He was trying to sound strong. He was strong. He went through this painful, violent, humiliating ritual every month. He was the bravest person she'd ever met. Tonks watched him do his breathing exercises, and when he opened his eyes she told him, "I love you,"
Remus didn't reply.
"Say it back to me," Tonks prompted, going over to him, but resisting the temptation to put a consoling hand on his shoulder.
He looked perplexed but obeyed; "I love you too,"
"No, you muppet. Tell me you know that I love you,"
"Oh. You love me,"
"Again," she insisted. He had to know. He had to have said it and felt it and had those words in his mouth to keep her love with him through the night.
"My wife Nymphadora loves me very much," Remus recited.
"She does. How much time do you have?" she asked, sitting down beside him and taking his hand.
He glanced at his watch, "Eight minutes,"
"We can work with that. Do you want me to do anything?" Tonks asked, "To-remind you of how- much I- love you,"
She lifted his hand up and interspersed every few words with a kiss to the inside of his wrist. He liked kisses there.
Remus looked amused. "No, thanks. I don't think I'd be up to much anyway,"
Oh. She'd forgotten that he went off sex around the full moon. Tonks pecked his cheek. "We can save it up for when you feel better,"
"Alright," he said, then added with a jolt of realization, "Err, do you? Need- want- you know?"
She laughed. "Nah,"
"Right. Good," he said awkwardly.
"You're funny," Tonks told him. He'd been much keener on sex most of this week, so she'd forgotten how cute his awkwardness about it could be.
It wasn't funny a little later, when he apparated away clutching his wand and a tatty blanket.
"I'll see you in the morning," Remus told her, and Tonks hated that he was using his reassuring tone with her, when it was him who needed consoling.
"Yeah. I- I don't know what to say," she mumbled.
"That's a first," he said, but his smirk was wan.
"Stay safe. God, that's a stupid thing to tell you," she said, running a hand through her hair.
"You'll get used to this," said Remus. The smirk disappeared and he looked rather shocked at himself, "I have to go now,"
He disapparated abruptly before Tonks could tell him she loved him again. Her living room seemed suddenly cavernous and quiet. Lonely, which was stupid because she'd lived here alone until less than a fortnight ago. Sighing, Tonks drew the curtains and took her watch off. She set the timer oven timer to go off at five past eight, so she didn't have to know the exact moment that the moon rose. She flicked the radio on, but that made her feel nervous. Tonks tried to read the spy novel she was halfway through, but after ten minutes she realised she'd read the same page five times, registering none of the words. Groaning, she tossed the book down and resolved to lift weights for a while. You had to be fit for Auror training, and at least it would occupy her body if not her brain.
Exercising worked, but Tonks was frustrated to realise that weights, sixty sit-ups and sixty chin-ups only took half an hour. She picked up the battered copy of The House of Mirth, although that made her think of Remus, and what he must be feeling right now. What would he be doing? She should have asked. Nothing was more heartbreaking than imagining the sweetest, kindest man in the world being bruised and bashed as the wolf fought its way out from inside him. It was a million times worse now he wasn't on medication. Remus had told how, when he came round as human, he sniffed and licked the blood on him arms, hoping desperately that it was his own. Nobody deserved that, especially not her beautiful husband. Tonks twisted her wedding ring around her finger. Remus was right when he told her she'd get used to this. It was like exams or periods or cigarettes: the first one was nerve-wracking and disorientating, but you got used to it. But the thought of Remus' body being ripped apart didn't seem like something she'd ever get used to.
It was an awful night. Tonks changed into her pyjamas and climbed into bed, knowing there was no way she was going to sleep. Like the living room, the bed felt empty without him. She reached over and touched the spot on the pillow where his head usually was. It seemed pathetic, since she'd slept here alone for years but now, after a fortnight, it didn't seem right? Though it wasn't just that Remus wasn't there, it was that he was somewhere in the forest of Galloway and he was dirty and bloody and out of his mind and in so much danger.
Tonks seen the werewolf once before, at Grimmauld Place. Sirius had been there and he'd held her hand as they opened the door to the cellar to where the wolf spent the night.
"Don't be scared," Sirius warned.
"Scared? Get a life, Sirius," Tonks had scoffed, lying. When they'd entered the room, the roof was lying on the floor under a blanket, avoiding looking at them. Sirius had warned her about what Remus would look like when transformed, through the size and repulsiveness of the werewolf had shocked her. Tonks had seen pictures off transformed werewolves in school textbooks, but the wolf in the cellar was a grotesque caricature of the diagram.
Lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, she winced thinking how unfair it was that Remus, who was neat, had to turn into something so dirty and matted. Remus, who until this week had been shy and nervy about sex, had to turn into a werewolf with a huge cock dangling between its legs wanting to hump anything. Remus, who was always in control of himself, had to lose control in such a violent way. But, Tonks thought sadly, would he have his neatness and his cute shyness and his control if he wasn't a werewolf? Were they all a reaction to how he was when he changed? If he wasn't a werewolf and hadn't gone through all this hell, would he be the man she'd fallen in love with? Tonks had no idea how to feel about that.
She tried to flip through Order paperwork but it just made her think of Remus, or of Dumbledore. He'd been dead more than a fortnight now and it was starting to sink in. It wasn't so much the shock that he was dead- he'd been very old for as long as anybody could remember. Even Mad-Eye hadn't met Dumbledore until the headmaster was in his sixties- it was that he had been murdered by Snape and blasted off the astronomy tower. The headmaster killed in his own school by one of his own staff. The founder of the Order of the Phoenix killed by one of the members. Snape was a bastard and there had long been suspicion, but Dumbledore swore he'd changed sides. Remus had been odd about it, he never questioned Snape's motives even through Snape hated him. Normally Remus was fun to argue with, but he'd been unmovable on that subject. Remus and Sirius had been cagey about why Snape had stopped teaching Harry Occlumency, so Tonks had stopped bringing the subject up. The fact that Dumbledore had been wrong was even more baffling than the fact that it had been Snape who'd killed him. They'd all been naive about what Snape was capable of, and what Dumbledore wasn't.
Last year, Tonks had been wracked with shame about Sirius dying when she was supposed to protect him. The guilt wasn't so bad this time around. Nobody could have predicted how the Malfoy boy smuggled Death Eaters into school, and Tonks knew that she probably saved Ginny's life on that Tower. The Ministry review of what had happened was a farce, though thankfully Mad-Eye had told Tonks that there was little chance she and the other Hogsmeade Aurors would face investigation ("Shame about Dawlish," he'd grunted).
Mad-Eye had been coping with Snape's betrayal by being more distrustful than ever. It had hurt when his reaction to, "Mad-Eye, guess what? Remus and I are getting married!" had been, "That doesn't sound like him. How d'you know it wasn't an imposter?". Tonks hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks now, and was looking forward to him being at the Order meeting in a few days' time.
And then there was a scrape at the front door. Tonks sat upright in bed, grabbed her wand, raced to the hallway, wrenched open her flat door, dashed out into the building hallway and unlocked the building front door. Remus was there on his hands and knees, naked and pale, panting and grubby. Tonks felt like the switch on her body marked Breath had been turned up to maximum. She hadn't realised it had been off all night.
"Thank God, there you are. Are you okay? Let's get you inside," Tonks gabbled. She reached out to haul Remus in but he flinched and she gasped, "Shit, are you hurt? Oh my God,"
Remus shook his head and, breath heaving, staggered into the building hallway and through the flat door. Then he was on his knees again, retching. He reeked of sweat, piss and earthiness.
"Remus? What's wrong? Merlin, everything's wrong, I'm sorry, I-"
"'M alright," he rasped, "Bed,"
He clawed the wall with one hand and hauled himself to his feet, which were dirty and bloodied. Tonks held out a hand and he grabbed it so hard that it hurt, like Sirius' had done back in the cellar. Swaying, Remus walked to the bedroom.
"It's over," Tonks murmured, "You're home now, you're safe. I'll look after you,"
He didn't seem to be listening, and when they got to the bedroom he hurled himself onto the bed. There was a nasty-looking open cut down his muddy back, and couple of bruises already on his ribcage. Oh, Remus Tonks thought, pained, but out loud she told him:
"I got you Essence of Dittany and the plasters,"
Remus waved a shaky thumbs-up.
"Are you hungry?" Tonks demanded. Food, warmth, Dittany, anything. She'd get it for him. She'd make him feel better.
He shook his head and croaked, "No,"
"Do you need anything else?"
Remus exhaled shakily. He pulled the duvet up over his shoulder before Tonks could do it for him, and murmured, "Leave meā¦alone. Please?"
"Oh. Yeah, of course," said Tonks. She hadn't thought of that, "Can you sort yourself out with the Dittany?"
Remus nodded.
"Err, I'll be nextdoor if you need anything," she told him.
He nodded again. Tonks pulled the blanket up unnecessarily, brushing his neck with her fingertips. She hoped that the touch to let him know that she was here and she'd take care of him, and that whatever had happened in the night didn't matter to her because she knew the real Remus, and the real Remus wasn't anything like the werewolf.
Remus made an moaning noise in the back of his throat and flopped away from her touch, sprawling onto the bed. He was still panting and shivering. Reluctantly, Tonks backed away from him, only stopping when she was halfway through the bedroom door.
"Remus?"
He glanced at her with unfocused eyes.
"I'm really glad you're home safe".
To be continued in a future chapter. If you have a moment, please review to let me know what you thought. Thanks very much, and have a great weekend.
