“Remus,” she whispered. “Wake-up, Mad-Eye’s on the warpath. Something about a ‘rendezvous’?”
Remus woke with a start and sat bolt upright. “Merlin, I’d forgotten all about it. That’s what I was supposed to be talking to you about yesterday but I ...err... got distracted,” he said, flushing slightly.
She giggled. “What’s Mad-Eye’s plan then?”
“Oh, it was Arthur and Molly’s actually,” he said. “They want some of us to go to King’s Cross to meet Harry and talk to his aunt and uncle. Are you coming?”
She got up and grinned. “Try and keep me away. Just give me a chance to freshen-up and change. I don’t really feel like myself in a skirt.”
Tonks rushed to her bedroom and pulled on her favourite purple Weird Sisters t-shirt and a pair of heavily patched jeans that she adored. She ran out of the room to see Remus pulling on his threadbare overcoat.
“Ready?” he asked, smiling at her.
“Ready,” she said, smiling back.
They linked arms and Apparated to King’s Cross together.
It was still raining when they arrived, causing Tonks to shiver. Remus offered her his coat and when she declined he went off to get her a coffee instead. There was no sign of Mad-Eye or the Weasleys.
She hopped up and down on alternate feet to keep warm. July weather in England, she thought. You can always count on rain.
Remus returned with her coffee. She warmed her hands around the cup. He bent forwards, intent on giving her a kiss, but was interrupted by a familiar clunking sound.
“Nymphadora,” growled Mad-Eye. “Good of you to drop by. Are you fully recovered now?”
“Yeah, Mad-Eye, I’m fine,” she replied.
“Kingsley will be pleased,” said Mad-Eye. He turned to Remus. “Lupin, Dumbledore wants to see you after this. You were meant to speak with him yesterday but he missed you.”
Tonks sniggered as Remus blushed. “I’ll see him straight after this, Alastor,” he said firmly.
A clatter of trolleys and four people, two of them wearing lurid green, shiny jackets, heralded the arrival of the Weasleys.
“Tonks,” sighed Molly, “how are you, dear? You must come round for supper soon. Bill’s back working for Gringotts and I’m sure he’d love to meet you. You too, Remus,” she added as an afterthought.
“Very subtle, Mum,” George commented.
“Bill’s got himself a girlfriend,” explained Fred.
“And Mum doesn’t like her,” continued George.
“She’s obviously decided that you’re more suitable,” finished Fred.
Tonks grinned at them. “Wotcher, lads! I do like your jackets. Do you know where I can get them in purple? “
“It’s nearly time for the train,” said Arthur. “I can’t see Harry’s relatives anywhere.”
“They’re over there,” said Fred. He pointed across the platform to three Muggles. Tonks could see Harry’s aunt looking across at them and shuddering.
“That Dudley’s certainly spotted us,” said George. “He’s hiding behind his dad.”
“Best not to offer him any sweets, eh, George,” said Fred.
“Probably not, Fred, probably not,” sniggered George.
Molly looked at them with disapproval. She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by Remus.
“Look, there’s Harry. He’s coming through now.”
Tonks looked across at the barrier. Harry looked so cold and so alone. She stopped smiling. She and Remus had been so intent on remembering their Sirius that they’d forgotten about Sirius-the-Godfather.
When Harry had left with his relatives and Remus had gone to see Dumbledore, Tonks decided to go to Diagon Alley.
“I’ll meet you there in about an hour,” Remus had said as he’d kissed her on the cheek.
She wandered around the shops. She’d loved it here as a kid. The excitement of buying her first wand, her text books and all the noises from the Owl Emporium still held such wonderful memories. Her favourite shop, however, was the Apothecary. She loved the smells and the exciting things she could create. An idea was forming in her head.
An hour later she sat outside Florean Fortescue's enjoying an ice cream. She was just wondering where Remus was when he turned up.
“Great,” she exclaimed. “You’re here. Look, I got you a present.” She placed a wrapped box into his hands.
Remus didn’t move. His eyes flickered to her face and then to the box. They seemed dead.
“Remus,” she said, “what’s the matter? Has something happened?”
He sat down, unable to nod or shake his head, it seemed. She took the box from him and held one of his hands. He pulled away from her.
“Don’t,” he said in a muffled voice.
“Remus, what’s wrong?” she said soothingly. “Is someone hurt?”
He shook his head. She tried to take his hand again but he pulled it away violently.
“Remus,” she said, starting to get worried, “tell me what the problem is. Is it me? Have I done something wrong?”
He laughed bitterly. “You have done nothing wrong. How could you? You’re whole.”
She was confused and scared now at the change in him. Unable to think of what to say, she started opening the box. Inside was a bottle, filled with a bronze coloured liquid.
“Remus,” she whispered, “look at this. I bought it for you.”
Dully, he lifted his eyes from the table and looked at the bottle.
“Oh, Godric, no!” he cried.
She bit her lip, wondering what on earth she’d done wrong. There was a long silence. She could see her ice cream melting to liquid in her glass. After a while, when Remus’ long shuddering breaths had finished, he took her hands in his. She was comforted by the contact and squeezed his fingers. Whatever it was that was troubling him, they could overcome it.
“I’ve got my next assignment, Tonks,” he said sadly and he gazed into her eyes as if he wanted to capture them in his mind forever. “Dumbledore wants me to go and live with the werewolves.”
She looked at him in horror.
“I can’t be with you any more, Tonks, as much as I want to.” His eyes slid to the bottle. “I’d take the Wolfsbane back. I’m sure they’ll refund it for you.”
She did not rage at him, but she stared into his deadened eyes and felt the life drain out of her.
“Please, Remus,” she whispered. “Please don’t go. Don’t leave me.”
He kept hold of her hands, knowing he had to let go, knowing that soon he would have to set off to find the werewolf lair.
“Tonks,” he said gently, “I have to do this. It might help. We need to stop Greyback; he’s a vital weapon in Voldemort’s army.”
“Fenrir Greyback?” she asked, her eyes widening in horror. “No, Remus, he can’t ask this of you. Dumbledore has no right to expect this “ you’re not an Auror for Merlin’s sake!”
“No,” he replied bitterly, “I’m not an Auror, or a Professor, or even a proprietor of a joke shop. I’m nothing, Nymphadora, except a werewolf.”
She wasn’t sure if it was him using her hated first name that caused the tears to spill down her cheeks, but she knew at that moment that he was lost to her.
He slowly, but with determination, removed her hands from his and stood up.
“Find someone else, Tonks,” he said quietly. “Find someone whole.”
She walked back to her flat wondering if she’d find peace, but the loss of Remus following so close to Sirius’ death was now too much to bear. She wept great convulsive sobs long into the evening. She felt she would rather break in two than feel this pain again.
Then, finally, as a pale half moon flickered feebly through her skylight window, she slept.
She is walking, barefoot, across a field. The sun beats down on her bare shoulders; she is burning and wants to stop but she is walking forwards, ever forwards. There is something she needs to do, something she needs to find but she cannot say what this is. She will know when she finds it. The grass gives way to stonier ground and she cuts her feet. She slows her pace and looks towards the horizon. There is something there, something she wants. She quickens her pace but her feet are hurting, the pain is intense; she feels as if her skin is getting sliced off. She is almost there. She smiles; she is at her destination. She’s laughing as she spots something blue on the stones beneath her feet. Blue like her father’s eyes. Blue like the ribbons her mother once tied in her hair. Blue like the early evening sky she had walked under last night. But there are no stones. She has not been walking on rocks. She has been walking on skulls, and the ribbon, the beautiful, shiny blue ribbon is nothing but a memory. The fetid air of this field of death invades her senses. She wants to run a different path but this is the only way for her now.
The Order of the Phoenix met the next day. Forced out of Grimmauld Place by the death of Sirius and the possibility that Bellatrix now owned the house, they’d decamped to The Burrow. They were sitting around the Weasleys’ large kitchen table. Tonks sat, huddled next to Bill, who was holding hands with Fleur under the table. She had chosen to sit as far away from Remus as possible. There was an empty chair next to him; she could have sat there but that place was for the fallen. That chair was for Sirius.
Remus had reported back that he’d found the werewolf lair and would be infiltrating it after the next full moon. She did not look up but kept her eyes firmly fixed on the floor.
“Nymphadora,” growled Mad-Eye Moody, “Kingsley’s talking to you.”
She wrenched her thoughts away from the skulls of her dream and looked up.
“Sorry,” she said half-heartedly. She reached for her drink and sent it flying. Fleur tutted and made some comment in French under her breath. “Sorry, Kingsley what were you saying again?”
Kingsley looked at her, checking she was listening this time, and then continued. “As I was saying: Scrimgeour wants four Aurors stationed in Hogsmeade at all times. So that’s Proudfoot, Savage, Dawlish, and you, Tonks.”
She nodded. “Dawlish?” she questioned. “Is he fit after...uh...?”
“After I Confunded him?” asked Dumbledore, smiling benignly at her. She did not return his smile.
“Okay, so I’ll be in Hogsmeade in the new term. What about now?” she asked.
“Are you sure you’re ready to come back, Tonks?” Kingsley asked kindly. “We all understand if you need more time “ he was your cousin after all.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Just get me back in the field.”
There was a long pause. Tonks knew they were all wondering about her. In past meetings she’d always been the cheerful one, boosting morale with her smile, giggling at Moody’s pronouncements, and chatting when she should have been listening. Now, this dour girl was dragging them down.
“Well, if you’re sure,” said Kingsley, “then I’d like you to do a search of the surrounding area; outbuildings, barns - that type of thing. Check for any Death Eater activity. There’s unlikely to be any as Malfoy and his crew are locked up in Azkaban, but we must use ‘constant vigilance’, as Alastor always tells us.”
She didn’t smile at the joke. “Anywhere in particular?” she asked.
“The Shrieking Shack,” said Remus quietly. “Ideal hide out.”
She looked at him for the first time, unaware he’d been watching her throughout the meeting. He looked miserable, as miserable as her and she wanted to be glad of that, glad that he was hurting because she was in pain too. Instead she had an almost overwhelming urge to hold him and promise him that things would be all right. But, of course, they wouldn’t be.
“First on my list,” she said, and then looked away.
She was in his room in Shrieking Shack. It was here where he’d come every month. She could see the broken furniture, the mattress torn to shreds, and she realised what hell, what torment he’d been in. It must have been bliss when his friends became Animagii. When Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs roamed the Forbidden Forest he must have felt free. It must have been like being reborn. She lay down on the floor, hoping that in some way she could be close to him, to see if she could connect to him. There were bloodstains on the floor, old blood from his time. She wanted to cry but there were no more tears inside her. He could not use Wolfsbane when he was with the werewolves. They would smell it on him and realise he was not like them. Instead he would have to confine himself again, to bite and claw and gouge at his own body instead of another’s.
“Nymphadora,” called her partner on this reconnaissance mission.
He strode into the room to see her lying on the wooden floor, her eyes wide open.
“Nymphadora, are you hurt?” There was no hint of concern in his voice.
Merlin! she thought, can’t he ever call me Tonks?
She stood up slowly; he did not offer to help her.
“Did you find anything?” he asked.
“Nothing, Snape,” she replied.
Except fear.
“Should we check out the tunnel?” she asked him.
He whipped his head around. “You know about the tunnel?”
She nodded. “Should we check it out?” she repeated, wondering why he looked so suspicious of her.
“How do you know about the tunnel?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Sirius told me. It comes out in the Whomping Willow, doesn’t it?”
Snape lowered his voice to a level she recognised from his classroom, he was angry and dangerous. “What else did he tell you?”
She was unconcerned at the malice in his voice. She knew Sirius and Snape had hated each other but didn’t know the reasons why. She’d never disliked her Potions Professor quite as much as the other students in Hufflepuff “ he had after all helped her on her way to the NEWT grade which got her into the Auror training programme.
“He told me about the tunnel. He told me that Rem...Lupin used to transform here, and he told me he was an Animagus “ that’s all,” she said, sighing. “Snape, I don’t know what happened between the two of you and I don’t really care now. He was my cousin and I loved him. If you can’t deal with that then perhaps we can’t work together. However, if you can deal with the fact that he was my cousin and I’m not him, then perhaps we should check out this bloody tunnel that you seem to be getting het up about.”
He stared at her. In the past, in his lessons, she’d wondered if he could read minds and she’d invented her own technique for blocking him. She used to change her hair or her nose and occasionally, just occasionally, it broke his concentration. She tried this time but something wasn’t working. She knew her metamorphic powers depended on her emotions, which was why as a child and a teen her hair had been a kaleidoscope of colours, so she wasn’t surprised that in this state her hair was such a drab, mousy brown.
Snape smiled slightly. “It’s this way,” he said.
In the tunnel she found herself almost crawling. “Blimey, it’s not deep, is it? Wouldn’t get Hagrid coming in here, would you?”
“We’re supposed to be checking for signs of Dark Magic, Nymphadora, not chatting,” said Snape.
“Well I don’t think anyone Dark’s been in here recently,” said Tonks. “Unless,” she said, picking up something from the floor, “they like Droobles Best Bubble gum.”
Snape muttered something under his breath that sounded like ‘Potter’. In the past Tonks would have laughed, but today she kept silent.
After an hour they reached the top. Tonks hurriedly climbed up and opened the trap door.
“Wait!” called Snape, but it was too late. Tonks had climbed out without pressing the knot on the tree. A branch caught her in the face.
“Flaming Phoenix!” she yelled as she tripped over another branch and fell back into the hole
“Allow me,” said Snape as he helped her up. He stopped the tree with a jab of his wand. “Are you hurt?”
“No, Snape, I always have blood pouring from my head like this!” she snapped.
“I meant are you hurt badly?” he replied witheringly. “Or can you manage to get up to the school?”
“I’m fine,” she growled. “I’ll sort it out at home.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “Although Madam Pomfrey is away, I have some excellent salves in my Dungeon. Follow me.”
Merlin, she thought, stuck with Snape in his dungeon. Could this day possibly get any worse?
His classroom looked and smelt the same as when she’d been a student. She wondered whether Snape ever tired of the familiarity. Being a Metamorphamagus, she had thrived on change, but now that appeared to be leaving her along with everything else.
He handed her a small pot of salve. She recognised the preparation; she’d seen Remus use it once. Don’t cry, she ordered herself. She rubbed some between her fingers and carefully spread a thin layer onto the welt above her eye. The pain lessened.
“Thank you,” she said to Snape. “Is this your own concoction?”
“Yes,” he replied. He was writing in a book with a long black feathered quill. “It’s a variation on Poenaserum. Do you remember that one, Nymphadora?”
She wracked her brain “Err...it’s a pain-relieving serum containing arnica, dillweed, hemp, mistletoe leaves and...” She smelt it again. “You’ve added something else...Oh,” she exclaimed, “it’s fresh borage, isn’t it?” She smiled, pleased to have solved the puzzle.
He smiled back. “Very good. You’re wasted in the Auror Department. You would be a good Potions Professor.”
She snorted. “Not whilst you’re here, Snape. Dumbledore’s not going to sack you in a hurry.”
He looked across at her thoughtfully and opened his mouth as if he was about to tell her something. He must have thought better of it though, because he just nodded and returned to his writing.
“What’s that you’re writing?” she asked.
He didn’t look up but carried on with his work, slowly and methodically writing formulae and annotating certain lines.
“Ideas, mainly,” he said after a while. “You may remember that at NEWT level I look for more ‘experimentation’ from my students.”
She nodded.
“This helps plan my class, to see which students have the true brain of Potioneer.”
“What did you think of me?” she asked impulsively.
He put the quill down, shut the book and looked directly into her eyes.
“To be frank, Nymphadora, I was surprised you made the expected grade at OWL level to continue my class but you were the one who proved me wrong.”
“Wrong in what way?” she asked, interested now.
“The true Potion maker needs to be precise and logical,” he replied.
“And I’m not?” she said.
“No, you are the very opposite. You are careless, clumsy, and emotional,” he stated.
“And my bad points are?” she said, surprising herself because she nearly laughed. She could imagine this conversation being held at Grimmauld Place with Remus present and her trying not to catch his eye, trying not to giggle.
Snape looked at her coldly. “It was when you rid yourself of your emotions and concentrated on your goal that you became a successful Potion brewer. Emotions betrayed you “ they still do.”
“What do you mean by that?” she snapped, all good humour gone.
“I’ve seen you with Lupin,” he said directly. “It can’t end well, him being what he is.”
She looked at him, too shocked to respond, then got off her chair and walked out.
She went to the only person she could think of for comfort. Not her mother, who’d always raised her eyebrows if she mentioned Remus’ name, but Molly Weasley who had noticed her frozen face at the last meeting and told her to come round at any time. Molly had sat her in a chair by the fire and plied her with tea, soup, and cake. She lamented on the state of her. Tonks was too thin and too sad for her liking. Slowly, very slowly, she began to thaw under Molly’s care and started to talk.
“I miss something that had barely started, Molly. Is that insane?” she asked.
“Not at all. It started long before you really knew, Tonks. It was obvious to any of us, watching you how comfortable you were together. Even Sirius noticed. You made him smile and Remus never smiled much. He doesn’t now at all.”
“Have you seen him?” asked Tonks, tears welling in her eyes.
“Briefly, he wanted news of Harry, or so he said, but...” Molly paused. “He really wanted to ask about you.”
“Then why doesn’t he come and see me? Why has he cut himself off?” she said desperately.
Molly sighed. “He feels unclean, broken, and unworthy, Tonks.”
“Well, so do I!” she cried. “Look at me, Molly! I’m a mess. I can’t sleep, eat, or function normally at all. I can’t even change my hair anymore.”
“Hush,” soothed Molly. “He’ll come round. You need to give him time.”
They heard a sudden crack outside. Molly ran to the window.
“I can’t see who it is, probably Arthur or the twins,” she said nervously.
She busied herself with cleaning an already clean surface until suddenly there was a soft knocking on the kitchen door. It was Dumbledore and Harry. Tonks greeted them both and tried to smile at Harry but she could see he was shocked at her lack-lustre appearance. She found she couldn’t meet Dumbledore’s eye. She remembered how relieved she’d been when she’d seen him arrive at the Ministry, she’d known they’d be safe now “ but Sirius had not been safe and now Remus was putting himself in more danger. She half heard Molly’s invitation to dinner at the weekend, but the knowledge that Remus too would be there was enough for her to make her excuses.
She could hear Dumbledore’s footsteps behind her; perhaps he wanted a word but she had nothing to say and Apparated away.
After finally falling asleep after having gazed at the stars through her skylight for half the night, Tonks was annoyed to be woken, once again, by Moody’s Patronus that asked for a report on the reconnaissance mission.
What she wanted to do was to turn over and sleep, sleep until the whole thing was over, but she knew Moody would not let her hide away.
She picked up her wand to issue a reply. “Expecto Patronum,” she said. What erupted from her wand caused her to gasp. There in front of her was not her silvery monkey but a huge, four legged animal.
However much he tried to deny it, Remus Lupin would always be protecting her.