Chapter 8: Truth, Tea, and Butterflies
“Remus “ can I talk to you?”
“Of course.” He followed Tonks out into the Weasleys’ overgrown backyard, now green with the full-blown summer. “You don’t have to ask, you know.”
His gentle teasing caused her stomach to tighten another notch. What if he says no?
Then he says no. You’ll live.
Despite this bit of impeccable logic, Tonks mentally touched her hair, checking to make sure that it was still in its sky-blue pixie cut. Remus waited, leaning on a spindly tree.
Tonks’s voice was slightly higher than usual. She had rehearsed this speech a hundred times, but it had never been the same twice. She cursed her ability to practice for two hours straight without actually pinning down her words. “Er…Remus, I…I, er…I’ve…er….”
Remus grinned a little. “You ‘er’?”
“I…Ifancyyou. And “ I was hoping we could “ goforadrinkorsomething.”
The small smile on his face froze. For one heart-pounding moment, he looked into her eyes as something flashed across his face, but it was only a moment. Then his face cleared and he was staring over her head.
She bit her lip. Part of her problem with rehearsing this speech was that she kept getting distracted by imagining the scene that was to follow her articulate, sweet, funny, but not needy, revelation. The variations on this scene fell into two basic categories: those that led to a close, happy embrace, and those that did not. This one definitely fit under the latter.
Remus forced his expression into something that was not eager hope, passionate desire or total despair. Any one of these would have been completely appropriate to his feelings and completely wrong for the situation.
He loved her, and here she was threatening to return his feelings! It was exhilarating, terrifying, and altogether impossible. Of all the situations that could have played out, this was the one he had thought of as the least likely “the one he could not afford to allow, and so had pushed from his mind. He berated himself for not coming up with a good answer ahead of time.
The problem with that was that there was the answer he should make, and the answer he desperately wanted to give.
There was a chance that they could be compatible. But there were too many obstacles in the way “ compatibility was only one part of a much larger whole.
Despite his care, Remus’s face gave away his answer before he spoke. She used years of control to pull her face into nonchalance before he looked back down.
“I’m sorry, Tonks, but “ no thank you. I “ didn’t intend to give you the wrong impression --”
She answered too quickly. “That’s fine.”
They stood together for another awkward minute before Tonks turned away. “Well, I’d best go home. Bye.”
She did not wait for an answer, which was good. Remus bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from shouting, “Yes! I’ll go anywhere you want!” and clenched his hands behind his back to keep from striding after her, taking her into his arms and kissing her into next week.
Forgetting to bid good bye to his hosts, Remus turned and Disapparated with a bitter smile. Moony the Sensible strikes again.
*
Tonks walked to the nearest public Floo station, six blocks away, with the vague hope that the exercise would wear her out so she could go to sleep and forget about her disastrous stab at romance.
It didn’t. Oh gods, it’ll be so awkward now. Even if no one else knows, we know, and the Order’ll notice, and then they’ll start whispering behind my back…stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have kept my mouth shut.
*
Unbeknownst to her, Remus’s thoughts were running along a similar vein. I hope we can still be friends; it’d be like death to lose her, especially through something as stupid as awkwardness…especially when I love her….
If we were the same age, I’d still be a werewolf. If I were rich, I’d still be a werewolf. If I wasn’t a werewolf…well, I’d probably have a solid job, but I’d still be older and there’s no guarantee that a relationship wouldn’t just fall through and kill our friendship anyway…
Remus thought of his seventh year at Hogwarts and his last girlfriend. At the time, he had believed love a good reason to risk everything. His ideals had been rudely shattered when, upon receiving the revelation of his lycanthropy, the girl had turned pale and fled the area with tears streaming down her face.
After that, Remus decided that silence was better than a broken heart. It wasn’t entirely a fair comparison “ after all, Tonks already knew what he was “ but that didn’t change the principle. Love was a dangerous object, and this time the danger wasn’t for himself. If I hurt you, Tonks, I couldn’t live with myself.
*
Tonks discovered, when she reached her little flat, that her hair had fallen straight to her shoulders and was a depressing mousy brown, streaked with a dull, unattractive blue “ the colour she had used in her teens when she was upset. Her hair evidently knew a lot more than she told it.
*
Midnight found Remus pacing his beautifully furnished quarters, having worked himself into a state beyond connected thought. Tonks…Sirius…Tonks…me…werewolf…Tonks…beautiful…no!
He picked up a decorative pillow and hurled it full force at a lamp, which shattered on the floor. Remus glared at it, turned on his heel and stomped into his bedroom.
*
Tonks spent the better part of two days lying listlessly in her room. Since it was the weekend, she didn’t have to go to the Ministry. There was an Order meeting, but Tonks sent word that she wasn’t feeling well. She didn’t think she could face Remus so soon after. She knew that she was behaving like an idiotic, love-struck teenager, but she couldn’t bring herself to care very much.
That afternoon, she received an owl from Molly Weasley.
Dear Tonks,
I’m sorry to hear you aren’t feeling well. If I might, I’ll drop by your flat this evening with some hot soup for you. It’s a very nourishing recipe; I make it whenever anyone is ill.
Let me know when I should stop by.
Molly
Tonks smiled. Molly truly was a mother at heart.
Dear Molly,
Thanks for the offer, but would you mind too much if I drop by the Burrow instead? I need company more than I need soup.
Thanks,
Tonks
Predictably, Molly answered almost immediately that that would be perfectly fine. After his three consecutive flights, Tonks had to let Errol rest a while before he was ready to fly back to the Burrow.
Tonks arrived at the Burrow after dinner time, in case anyone from the Order (Remus) had stayed for supper. Molly greeted her effusively.
“Tonks, dear, you look distraught. Is something wrong?”
Her gentle mothering was enough to make tears start to flow down the younger woman’s face. Molly wisely installed her in the kitchen with a large mug of steaming tea and a handkerchief before she asked any more questions.
Tonks finally managed to blurt out, “I…asked Remus…out and he…said…no…and I feel so…stupid!”
Molly bit the inside of her lip. She had wondered when the two of them would realise that there was something besides friendship between them, but this was not exactly what she had hoped for.
Tonks, slightly calmer now, found relief in giving voice to her pain. “I like him so much, Molly! He’s the best friend I’ve ever had and I…ruined it….”
Molly remembered unbidden a scene from a few weeks ago. Tonks had made some joke and Remus had laughed, but as Tonks looked away, Remus looked at her and for a brief moment, dropped his defences. Molly had seen his hope and longing and despair as clearly as if he had shouted it.
“…he doesn’t care for me at all and now I’ve lost him and I wish I’d held my tongue….”
Molly let her cry herself out. Finally, she asked quietly, “What are you going to do now, dear?”
Tonks stared at the mug as though she’d never seen one before. “I don’t know. I wish I had a Time-Turner.”
“A what?”
“Oh “ never mind.”
Molly let the girl sit gazing into space for a brief moment, but nudged her out of her reverie before she could start brooding again. “What are you going to do?”
“I need to get away. I think about him all the time and seeing him makes it worse. I can’t let my personal feelings get in the way of Order business. I already fall over everything I come in contact with…if I start getting really distracted, I could kill missions. I could get people killed.”
There was nothing Molly could say to that. Tonks was probably being overly dramatic, but she was right “ now was not the time to take unnecessary risks. Hesitantly, she suggested, “Have you asked your mother what she thinks?”
Tonks snorted. “What would I say? ‘Mum, I love an unemployed werewolf thirteen years older than myself who refuses to date me. Be sympathetic and tell me why he should.’”
“Your mother defied Black family law by marrying a Muggle-born. What’s a werewolf to that?”
Tonks looked up in faint surprise. “That’s true. But still “ if I talk about Remus, Sirius’ll slip in, and I’m not supposed to talk about Sirius. Besides, it still hurts her to think about him.”
Molly reached across the table to rest a motherly hand on that of the young woman before her. “My dear, I think you should. Remember that Albus is very close to getting Sirius’s name cleared; why not tell her now, before it hits the Prophet and all the other papers? She would rather hear from you. And I’m sure she loves you too much to not have sympathy about Remus.”
Tonks’s face lightened a shade. “Perhaps you’re right. At the least, it would get me away.”
She went on resolutely, “I can spend time with Mum and Dad and then go straight to Hogsmeade to start my next assignment “ I won’t even have to come to Order meetings. It’ll be good for throwing suspicion. Kingsley can keep me filled in. With luck, I won’t see Remus for a while.”
Molly had her doubts, but she wisely said nothing. “It’s a good plan, dearie. Just make sure you write, and you’ll visit us sometimes, won’t you?”
Tonks did smile this time. “I will. This place is my second home.”
“I’d be ashamed if you didn’t feel that way. More tea? Your mug’s cold.”
The younger woman relinquished the mug to Molly, who emptied it before pouring fresh tea for her. “It’s never the same, reheated. Fresh is the only way to drink it.”
Tonks’s mind drifted to something Remus had once said. “Molly firmly believes that a good cup of tea can cure any ill. I could probably get a limb cut off and she’d offer me tea.”
Instead of making her laugh, the memory brought new tears to Tonks’s eyes. She accepted the steaming mug mechanically, bowing her head over it to hide her silliness.
A knock sounded at the door, making Molly jump. “Who on earth!”
She hurried to the door. “Who’s there? Declare yourself!”
A moment later, Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore entered. Tonks smiled rather mechanically, not entirely pleased to have them burst into a private, unduly emotional chat. She stood to go.
Molly caught her by the door, whispering, “Won’t you come see us once before you go?” Louder, she added, “Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming “?”
Tonks felt herself blush. “No, really, Molly…thanks anyway…Good night, everyone.”
*
Ted and Andromeda Tonks lived in a Wizarding neighbourhood in London to be near Ted’s job. He was one of a very few Wizards who, upon leaving Hogwarts, had returned to a Muggle university and taken up a Muggle career “ in his case, weather forecasting for a local television station.
Tonks was greeted with delight.
“Two whole weeks? You’ve not stayed for so long since you left Hogwarts!” With a flick of her wand, Andromeda sent Tonks’s bags up to her room as she ushered her oldest child into the kitchen, gesturing to Ted to bring over the cookie jar.
Tonks hugged her mother. “I was a rebellious kid then, Mum, I needed to be away.”
To her surprise, Andromeda did understand what Tonks herself did not. She told her mother about Remus over a plate of late-night cookies, which was hard, and about Sirius, which was harder. By the time they went to bed, Tonks’s eyes throbbed from crying, but she felt a little better. She hoped that the feeling would last.
Tonks spent the time with her family doing her best to forget about Remus, with mixed success. Her parents refrained, with heroic effort, from asking how she was doing, but instead took her to dinner, rearranged the furniture in her little flat, and otherwise tried to fill her time with anything not related to Remus and the war.
At first, she thought about him constantly. The night of the full moon was the worst. She lay awake that night, wondering if he was adding to the scars already marking his body. Over time, she thought of him very slightly less, though with no fewer pangs of the heart.
When the end of her time with the family arrived, she moved into a room in The Three Broomsticks. Even with the usual expansion charms on the wardrobe, she had some difficulty fitting everything inside, and the clutter lying all over the floor by the end of the first day warned her that it wouldn’t get any cleaner. Still, she liked the cosy room. Better still, she was cautiously optimistic about Remus “ she thought of him fractionally less these days. Surely the feelings would fade and she would recover in time.
The next month was spent exploring every inch of Hogsmeade. She got to know the shopkeepers and the best places to eat, but most of her time was spent with Anthony Proudfoot, Devin Savage, and Bradley Dawlish, the other Aurors stationed in the area. She still didn’t attend Order meetings. Instead, she got her information by stopping in at the Auror offices now and then. As promised, she also dropped by the Burrow once or twice, but only if she knew (courtesy of Kingsley, who pretended not to know why she asked) that Remus was elsewhere.
*
About six weeks after leaving the Burrow, Tonks sat in at the bar of The Three Broomsticks, enjoying a morning cup of tea and a roll. It was Dawlish and Proudfoot’s morning on patrol, and she was more than happy to let them have it. They would all have a lot more to do once Hogwarts started again, but that wouldn’t be for another few days. She yawned, blinking as the sun shone a little more brightly into her corner.
He saw her as soon as he walked in. With the light playing over her straw-blonde hair, she seemed almost to glow.
“Good morning, Tonks. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Startled, Tonks dropped her roll, which splashed noisily into her teacup. His voice alone filled her stomach with butterflies; looking into his face convinced her that the butterflies had had a go at Rosmerta’s best aged Firewhisky. Her own voice didn’t seem to be working; her reply was the merest squeak.
“Wotcher, Remus.”