"[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.
You can run into my arms,
It's okay, don't be alarmed,
Come here to me.
There's no distance in between our love,
So go on and let the rain pour,
I'll be all you need and more
- Rihanna, Umbrella.
Married Life: Deimos
It was easier to sleep now that he was back. Tonks yanked the duvet over herself, and managed to catch a couple of hours of kip before the alarm clock shrieked to wake her up. She didn't like running on two hours of sleep, but being an Auror got you used to it. Tonks downed a coffee and crept into the bedroom to get dressed. Remus was sleeping on his side, facing away from her. Tonks noticed that the Essence of Dittany bowl was empty and that he'd stuck plasters on his arm. The pillow was grimy from his face, and on the pillow there were twigs which had fallen out of his hair. For a split-second, Tonks considered waking him. Then she realised that was stupid and selfish, because Remus needed sleep. She got dressed as quietly as possible, trying to avoid tripping over and crashing into the furniture. Tonks refilled the bowl of Dittany and made a sandwich and a cup of tea to leave by the bed. She wrote a note alongside it: Hope you feel better! Can't wait for cuddles later xxxxxx.
Stepping out of the fire that evening, Tonks noticed that the jumper Remus had left on the sofa wasn't there anymore. In the bathroom, his razor and toothbrush had moved from where they'd been that morning, and the bath had been used. Tonks knocked on the bedroom door (which felt odd, considering that it was her own room) and pushed it open. Remus was slumped over with his eyes closed and the blanket twisted around his waist. The mug and plate were empty on the table beside him.
"Remus?" she whispered.
He didn't respond.
"Wotcher, Remus,"
Tonks crossed over to the bed, tempted to snuggle up to Remus' body and run her fingers through his hair. But she wasn't sure if he'd hurt himself, so she climbed into bed without touching him, hoping that the movement would wake him up. It worked, because Remus' eyes flickered open.
"Hi," Tonks whispered, "How are you?"
His eyes closed again slowly, "Sleeping,"
"How was it?"
"Bad,"
"Oh," she said, feeling stupid, "Sorry to hear that,"
"Hmmph," he said. Then his eyes fluttered closed.
Tuesday. She came home to find him on the sofa in his pyjamas with his knees tucked up to his chest. He was conjuring a flock of bluebirds to fly over his head. Despite his grey and grazed face, it was a relief to see him out of bed.
"Wotcher," said Tonks, leaning down to peck his cheek, "Nice to see you up,"
Remus stiffened at her touch and waved his wand so that the bluebirds disappeared.
"You should stay away from me," he croaked.
Bugger. This was not a good sign.
"That's a bit tricky now we're married, isn't it?" Tonks pointed out. She unhooked her wedding ring from the necklace and slipped it back on her finger, hoping that Remus would take the hint. He ignored it.
"Look what I've done to y-"
"Did you hurt yourself?" Tonks interjected, trying to wrench the subject off this uncomfortable turf, "What happened?"
"It isn't important," he muttered.
She was unable to keep the frustration from her voice. "How is it not important?"
"Look what I've done to you," Remus repeated. His eyes were on the carpet, and his tone was timid and ashamed.
Tonks winced. Not this again. She thought they were done with this. "You weren't saying that in bed the other night," she growled, "Or at dinner on Thursday. Or, as a random example, at our wedding,"
"Our wedding was a-" he began to say, but cut himself off.
"A what? A mistake?"
"I'm tired," Remus announced, standing up abruptly, "I'm going back to bed,"
Tonks swished her wand to shut the door. "No. We're talking about this now. I'm not putting up with you having more mood-swings than Ron Weasley. I'm not spending the next fifty years not knowing if I'm going to come home to the version of you who loves me or the version who hates himself,"
Remus' reply was much faster than she anticipated: "I do love you, which is why I should have put a stop to this before we ended up here,"
He might as well have slapped her. "That's a horrible thing to say. We've been married nine days,"
How could he say that after nine days?
"And on one of those days I've become a monster," Remus pointed out.
Tonks hated that word, most of all when he said it about himself, and even more when he did so in this self-pitying way.
"Do you not get sick of this? This endless telling me you're not worth it, because it's boring me to death. You were happy last week and you know you were. Can't you think back to that?"
"I'm not going to lie. I can't pretend that this isn't the reality," Remus said wearily, then sighed, "I'm going to bed,"
"And you'll wake up tomorrow and it'll all be fine again," Tonks couldn't help but snap.
"I thought that's what you wanted?" he asked calmly.
"It is. I want you to be like that all the time. I want you to be happy,"
"That's not your responsibility,"
"I'm your wife. Of course it's my responsibility,"
"I-"
"-and you're bloody well not making me happy right now," she snarled.
"No," Remus mumbled sadly, "No. There we are,"
"What's that supposed to mean? For once can't you say what you actually bloody mean?"
"I don't want to argue-"
"-could have fooled me,"
Remus rubbed groaned.
"Is this some kind of plan to make me hate you?" Tonks accused, "Because you've tried that before and I seem to remember it involved you living with werewolves for eight months and us getting married anyway,"
"I don't want you to hate me,"
"Sure about that?"
"Of course I'm sure," he answered, sounding more impatient now.
"Then what are you playing at? Seriously, Remus, what am I supposed to do? Because from where I'm standing I just had the- the best four days of my life since we came home," Tonks breathed, voice cracking, "And I don't know what I'm supposed to do about you and your bloody self-destruct button,"
She saw the struggle in Remus' face for a moment. Guilt. Turmoil. Love. Panic. Fear. He was always so fearful. Then he came over and put his arm around her shoulders. Tonks wanted to feel relieved that he was letting himself touch her again, but everything was too tense.
"I'm sorry. Sorry, I'm worn out," Remus said heavily, "This full moon felt like a bad one and it's brought a few things home to me. Things I was trying to forget,"
"You were better when you forgot them," Tonks accused, meeting his eye.
"No doubt I was, but that doesn't mean I was right,"
"It means exactly that you were right,"
His face struggled again. "We'll have to agree to disagree about that,"
"Right. Well," Tonks said awkwardly. They'd only been back together a couple of weeks but already she'd forgotten how gruesome it was to be awkward around him.
"Yes,"
Remus withdrew his arm from her shoulders and picked up the copy of The House of Mirth he'd left on the coffee table. Tonks knew that it was good that he wasn't storming off to bed, but it didn't feel like a victory. She watched him for a few seconds, heart thudding, but it seemed that he'd said what he wanted to and wasn't going to speak or look up again. Remus was frustratingly adept at ending arguments. Tonks wanted to snuggle up to him, but he was sitting on the armchair, and moreover his posture was stiff and angular, making it clear that he didn't want to be touched. Tonks fished a music magazine from her bag and sat down on the sofa. They spent the rest of the evening in silence. Tonks couldn't tell if Remus was concentrating on his reading as ineffectually as she was on hers. When he eventually did go to bed, he gave her stiff a pat on the arm and his, "Goodnight" was cursory.
"Night," Tonks murmured, "I'll be there in a little while,"
She'd slept on the sofa last night too, so she hoped that Remus got the hint of: I am coming back to bed tonight.
"Yes," he replied tonelessly.
She wanted to kiss him goodnight but she knew it'd make things worse, and when Tonks went to bed half an hour later she suspected that Remus was only pretending to be sleeping.
In the morning Remus was asleep, as he normally was at this time. Before Tonks left for work she knelt down next to him and stroked his hair off his forehead.
"Come back to me. Come back and smile," she murmured, kissing his forehead. They'd smiled and laughed constantly in the days before this full moon. She wasn't letting them go back to how things had been before the funeral, when Remus was cold and frightened and convinced that he knew better than her and that them being together would ruin everything.
At the Ministry things were typically hectic, with Proudfoot barking out orders and Glossop fretting about departmental security. Everyone was in overdrive after what had happened to Dumbledore. There was an Order meeting tonight, the first since their wedding. Being one of the only people at work who knew the truth about Dumledore's death, and pretending that she didn't know what had happened, was knackering, so Tonks was looking forward to seeing the rest of the Order. At work she was lumbered with the boring task of administrating emergency safeguarding measures, though she could overhear Glossop and Dawlish speculating about Dumbledore and Harry. None of this secrecy had seemed so stressful when they'd been planning the wedding, and those four days after when she'd been bursting with joy. Now it felt exhausting and onerous, and the world seemed more threatening and harder handle. It was the sort of thing she would have talked to Remus about, except it was Remus who was causing her to feel this hassled in the first place. Her period was late from all the stress. Kingsley was out of the office today, which didn't help either. Even though she didn't speak to him much at work, Tonks could have done with his reassuring presence.
By the time Tonks got home, she'd worked herself up into treading on eggshells, and it transpired that Remus had too. He was dressed for the first time since Sunday and he said hello when she stepped out of the fire. His tone and posture were tense, however, and he didn't stand up to kiss her.
"Wotcher,"
"Hello. Good day at work?" he asked. He was still clammy, but didn't seem as ill as he'd seemed for the last three days. Tonks hoped that that meant the worst was over.
"Busy," she answered cagily.
Before she could say anything else. Remus snapped his book shut and announced, "The meeting is tonight,"
"Yeah,"
"Eight o'clock at the Burrow,"
Sometimes it took him flipping ages to get to his point. "What about it?"
"It's the first time we'll have seen everybody since the wedding,"
"Our wedding," Tonks pointed out. She didn't like him going into Professor Mode like this.
"Yes," Remus conceded, "Our wedding. Our friends will want to see us happy. Let's tell them yes we are, it was a nice wedding and thanks for all their cards, and now let's get on with organising moving Harry,"
So he was ignoring the argument too. Bypassing what happened last night and launching straight into playing happy families in front of their friends.
"What about you?" Tonks asked impatiently.
"What about me?"
"If our friends want to see us happy, will you be pretending or will you actually be happy?"
For a moment, Remus looked befuddled. Then he looked thoughtful. Then he looked at his knees and murmured, "You make me very happy,"
"Are you sure? Because I think we established that you weren't happy last night,"
"No. Neither were you,"
"Because you weren't. Because you were weird and distant and like you were before we got engaged,"
"Mmm,"
"Well?"
Remus took a breath then said heavily, "I told you last night that I'm not going to pretend to you that I'm happy when I'm not. I can lie about it in front of other people. But I won't lie to you,"
God, he was sweet. He wasn't even trying to be; he was telling the truth. He was infuriating, but he was also a total angel, and she was the only person who could talk him out of his self-destructiveness. She knew he needed her.
"If I say something will you say it back?" Tonks asked.
Remus considered. "Alright,"
"Everything is going to be fine,"
When Remus glanced up there was the ghost of a smirk on his face. "I thought you were going to say 'I love you',"
"Everything's going to be fine," she repeated.
The smirk flickered into a smile. It was faint, but it was there. "Everything's going to be fine," he echoed.
Tonks wanted to grab his collar and yank him in for a snog, but it was too early for that. Sometimes meeting Remus halfway meant meeting him an inch in front of where he was standing.
Instead she leaned over, pecked his cheek and told him, "Finally something we agree on,"
"Only because you made me say it," he pointed out. Tonks hoped that his pout was mocking, not genuine.
"Hey, beggars can't be choosers".
At The Burrow they were embraced and hand-shook and congratulated. Hagrid pulled them both into a bone-crushing hug, Kingsley clapped Remus proudly on the back, and Molly beamed and managed not to cry. Ron looked bamboozled, the twins chorused, "You didn't invite us to the party?" and Moody seemed uncharacteristically discombobulated before settling on shaking Tonks' hand and saying, "Could have done worse".
"Thanks, Mad-Eye. I wish you could have been there,"
"Busy here," he growled, which Tonks reckoned was Moody code for I wouldn't have wanted to come anyway, you soppy sod.
Ginny came hurtling down the stairs, flung herself at Tonks and squealed, "Congratulations!"
"Thank, Gin,"
Ginny pressed a kiss to her cheek and demanded, "How was it? Was everything okay?"
"It was fine. It was a wonderful day,"
"Good," said Ginny fervently.
"Ginny, what did I say about being allowed in the meeting," crowed Molly's voice.
"I've been here for five seconds!" Ginny protested. She pulled a face, let go of Tonks and elbowed her way across to Remus, who was fending interrogation from George and Hermione. Hestia and Dogbreath came over to ask about the wedding. Recounting the story, Tonks realised that Saturday the 12th of July felt like a long time ago now.
"Settle down, everybody," said Kingsley after a few minutes of chatter. The hubbub died down apart from the twins.
"So when he was properly pissed-" one of them was explaining to Remus.
"We're talking absolutely blind drunk-" the other corroborated.
"He'd tap the bride on the shoulder-"
"Yank up his robes-"
"And give her a bunch of flowers pulled straight from his-"
"Fred, George, that's enough," hissed Molly, "Ginny, back upstairs,"
Ginny left without complaint, but shut the door harder than was necessary. Tonks smirked.
"Tell you later," the first twin told Remus with a wink.
"Where's Tonks? Go round and sit with your wife," demanded the second twin, pushing Remus over to her. He looked uncomfortable amongst all the fuss, especially when Kingsley stood up and raised his glass. Thankfully, Kingsley knew Remus enough to understand how embarrassed he'd be by all this and kept his toast brief.
"Welcome, everybody. If I may start by saying that firstly we all offer our congratulations to our good friends Remus and Tonks, who as you all know were married last week. We wish you both the utmost happiness," he said, "I'd like to raise a toast,"
She could see Remus craning around apprehensively as everybody stood up, raised their glasses and echoed, "To Remus and Tonks,"
Tonks snaked an arm around her husband's waist and beamed at their friends (Molly had succumbed to tears). She pretended to be as elated and thrilled as she had been those first few days, before this marriage had become as complicated and argumentative as the months which had preceded it. Why hadn't she seen that coming? She'd been naive to think that marriage could fix him. But she so desperately wanted him to be fixed. Remus didn't deserve to be so tortured and guilt-ridden and to think so lowly of himself. The rings and the ceremony didn't matter because she could fix him; she knew she could. With enough love and care and protection, he wouldn't see himself as a monster. Tonks promised herself that she'd do it. If it took the rest of her life, she would make him better.
Now, thankfully, the fussing is over and everybody is sat round the table in the midst of discussions. It's odd to see Ron and Fleur here as members of the Order (Hermione being here isn't remotely weird, since she's always seemed about thirty-five). Mad-Eye is in charge, explaining where Harry's relatives will be taken to before the rest of the Order come for Harry.
"Lock 'em in the shed," Ron mutters audibly to Bill, who doesn't seem to be listening to him.
Tonks feels a hand on her wrist. She flicks her eyes sideways. Remus' face belies nothing, but his hand slips down her wrist and he links his fingers with hers. After the tension of the last few days he suddenly wants to hold her hand under the table, like they did back at Grimmauld Place all that time ago. Does this mean he's alright? She kissed him earlier, but now it's Remus whose reaching for her. Does this mean they're back to how things were before the full moon?
She squeezes his hand. His fingers are always cold. Her marvellous, perplexing, exhausting husband.
No, married life has not turned out how Tonks anticipated.
