"To Understand and To Be Understood" (Molly Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks)
Author: Anonymous
Prompt/Prompt Author: "They appear to be close-ish in canon. What kind of friendship is it? A few ideas: Maybe Molly sees Tonks as the woman she might have been if she'd made different choices. Does she urge Tonks to pursue Lupin, and maybe get pregnant, out of supportive friendship, or is it something else? Or take the opposite approach: Molly sees Tonks making the same choices she did, and tries to talk her out of it. Or maybe Molly wants to convince Tonks that she doesn't have to choose one or the other--maybe Tonks has choices that weren't open to Molly." squibstress
Title: To Understand and To Be Understood
Characters: Molly Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks; cameos by Mad-Eye Moody, Fred and George, Dumbledore and one or two others.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death (canon)
Word Count: ~8800
Summary: "One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood." -- Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Author's Notes: Thanks to my speedy and eagle-eyed beta for her Britpicks and excellent suggestions. Text in bold was taken directly from Rowling's books. Molly's line about having children being "to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body" is from author Elizabeth Stone. The information about what happens when two werewolves mate under the full moon comes from pottermore.com.
--&&--
Summer, 1994
Hands on her hips, Molly took one last look around the Burrow. Streamers reading "Congratulations, Auror Tonks!" festooned the mantelpiece; Fred and George, home from school for the summer, had enchanted the words so that they twinkled like fairy lights in a shifting range of colours. Platters of food -- sandwiches, Cornish pasties and mini-tarts, apple pies, cake, and an enormous trifle -- filled every available flat surface. From a pot of mulled wine simmering on the stove wafted the delicious odours of cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg, and bottles of butterbeer were chilling in a metal bucket by the door.
She nodded to herself in satisfaction just as a loud knock sounded from the front door.
"Come in!" she shouted.
The door opened, then slammed closed and she heard uneven footsteps thump into the room behind her. "Molly, you're a fool," a voice growled. "Should've come to the door and made sure it was me. What good is constant vigilance if y'don't exercise it?"
"As if I could mistake your knock for anyone else's, Alastor," she retorted, turning to give the older man a hug.
He merely grunted in response, but she received the distinct impression he was pleased with her answer. "Tonks not here yet?"
Molly glanced at the clock, where one hand pointed to "Romania," two to "Traveling" and five to "Home". "It's only just now gone seven, she should be here any minute." Moody glanced around, magical eye twirling madly, and Molly stifled a grin, remembering how long it had taken her to become accustomed to its independent activity. "Relax, Alastor. Arthur always makes sure our protective charms are all up-to-date. You don't think he'd take any chances where his family is concerned, surely!"
Moody scowled. "Only takes once, Molly." He tapped his eye meaningfully with a hoary forefinger. "One moment of inattention, and BANG."
Simultaneously with the last word, something exploded immediately above their heads. Moody's wand was in his hand almost before Molly's shriek of alarm died down, and in seconds the twins' festive cloud of glittering confetti was nothing more than tiny flakes of ash.
"Sorry, Mum," Fred's voice said from the first floor landing.
"Looks like the spell was a bit off," George chimed in.
"It was supposed to go off--"
"--when Tonks walked in."
"You two!" Molly said furiously. "Wait till your father gets home!"
Fred and George exchanged a glance. "Actually, Mum--" said Fred.
"--he taught us that spell," George finished.
Molly narrowed her eyes at the two of them and opened her mouth, but before she could speak Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Kingsley Shacklebolt came through the front door, all talking at once. Behind them she saw Elphias Doge and Emmeline Vance and several others. Fred and George, emboldened by the presence of others, clambered merrily down the stairs and began shaking hands as if they were politicians and handing out butterbeers to all and sundry. Molly shook her head, half-laughing and half-annoyed. Lecturing the twins would just have to wait, she decided.
Bill's head appeared over the railing, attracted by the noise. "Bill!" Molly called. "Get yourself down here. And tell Ron and Ginny to come down too! She'll be here any minute!"
"Right, mum!" Bill's head disappeared and she heard him shouting for his brother and sister.
Molly glanced round and, not seeing her husband, was about to send someone out to his workroom to see if he'd arrived yet, when she heard the back door and a moment later Arthur appeared from the direction of the kitchen. "Molly my dear!" he said, kissing her on the cheek and looking around with pleasure at the animated crowd. "You always make everything so lovely."
She put an arm around his waist. "I wanted something special for Tonks," she said. "She's worked so hard at her training -- Mad-Eye says she's one of the best he's ever trained at Concealment and Disguise, but she had a terrible time with Stealth and Tracking. You know how she's always knocking things over."
"Lucky for us, otherwise we'd still have Great-Aunt Tessie's cursed teapot." Arthur shivered in mock terror.
A tiny flickering light landed on Molly's shoulder and she listened attentively as it twittered into her ear. "Shush, everyone!" she called, waving her arms to get their attention. "It's time, she's coming! Shhhhhh!"
Silence fell. With a flick of her wand, Molly dimmed the lights. Seconds later there was a light tap on the door. With a wink at Mad-Eye Moody, Molly went to the door. "Who is it?" she trilled.
"It's me, Molly -- Tonks. You did say seven, right?" Molly opened the door and Tonks stepped inside, still talking. "Sorry I'm late, I think I knocked over your wheelbarrow--"
The massed shout of "SURPRISE!!!" sent her hair a shocking neon green and nearly rattled the roof off the Burrow.
Nothing but crumbs remained on the platters of food, the bucket of butterbeer bottles had been emptied three times, and the last guest had bid them farewell and Apparated (in some cases rather unsteadily) homeward when Tonks collapsed into a chair in the kitchen, happy but exhausted by four hours of non-stop talking, hugs, and congratulations.
"Cup of tea, dear?" Molly asked. She Vanished a stack of inedible toffees, a result of the twins' failed effort earlier in the evening to conjure supplementary sweets when the trifle ran out.
"That'd be lovely, Molly, thanks." Tonks gave a jaw-cracking yawn. "It was great to see everyone."
"And then off to bed," Molly said severely. "We can't have you starting your career as an Auror so tired you can't see!"
"I'm glad you invited Remus. I haven't had much of a chance to talk to him before -- he's quite nice. It was really sweet of you to do this," she added. "You didn't have to."
"Of course I did!" Molly said indignantly, setting two cups on the table and filling them from a steaming teapot. "That's what friends are for: to help you celebrate the good times."
"And cope with the bad," Tonks said with a smile.
"That, too," Molly agreed. "Ideally, more of the former than the latter."
"You've done both for me, Molly. I hope you know how grateful I am."
"Just as you have for me." Molly said with a warm smile. "Drink your tea. It's chamomile, it'll help you unwind."
Tonks took a long sip and set the cup down with a satisfied sigh. The two women sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.
"I did invite your mother, you know," Molly said finally, her voice uncharacteristically diffident. "She declined. Without thanks."
Tonks grimaced but said nothing.
"She's not happy about your career choice, is she?" Molly guessed.
Tonks shook her head. "No. She never has been."
"Is it the Aurors in particular? Or is it that silly Pureblood idea that women shouldn't work?"
"My mum'd be the last one to care about silly Pureblood beliefs," Tonks scoffed. "You know that, Molly."
"Well, yes," Molly acknowledged, "but old habits die hard sometimes. So it's the Aurors in particular? But why? She ought to be proud of you!" She stirred sugar into her tea so vigorously it splashed out of the cup, and she Vanished the puddle with an irritated exclamation. "Just getting into Auror training isn't exactly a walk down a country lane, let alone working as one!"
"That's just it," Tonks said. "She thinks it's too dangerous. Well, that, and..." Her voice trailed off and her hair, which she'd made a festive tartan early in the evening on a dare from the twins, faded to a shabby ash-blonde.
"There's something worse than being killed?" Molly asked, making a droll face. "Whatever could it be?"
Tonks chewed her lip, evidently reluctant to explain. "It's V--He Who Must Not Be Named," she said at last. "If he really is back--"
"If??" Molly rolled her eyes. "Tonks, please don't spoil a lovely evening by reminding me of Cornelius Fudge!"
Tonks grinned briefly. "Sorry. The point is, as an Auror, I would be -- will be -- opposing not only You-Know-Who, but also anyone who supports him. Which means..."
"Which means you may end up fighting her sisters," Molly finished slowly. "One of them at least, if not both." Molly sighed. "My dear, I'm so sorry." She tried to think of something comforting, but nothing came to mind so she simply patted Tonks' hand.
"I couldn't not be an Auror," Tonks went on, brows creased with the intensity of her emotion. "It's all I've ever wanted. Because of how things were with Mum and her family, I guess. Them erasing her like she never existed, and the stories she told about how they treated Sirius...this stupid idea, people thinking they're better than others just because of their family and believing that Muggles are worthless rabble." Hot pink streaks crept through her hair as she spoke.
Molly nodded. "I know just what you mean. It makes you want to get out there and do something. I'm sorry sometimes that I didn't join the Order of the Phoenix, take a more active role. But I suppose my way of battling those sorts of beliefs was by raising our children to understand that every life is valuable, be it Muggle or Wizard. A lot of young couples who got married around the same time as Arthur and me, they put off having children, out of fear." She smiled. "Our answer to the fear was to show our faith in the future by having as many children as possible."
"What do you think, George, do you feel like an answer?"
Molly and Tonks looked up to see the twins lounging in the doorway, as alike as two peas in a pod.
George put on a face of intense concentration. "No, Fred, upon due consideration, I feel much more like a question."
"And what would you, as a question, be, George?"
"I believe, Fred, I would be ‘Are there any more ginger biscuits, Mum'." George opened a cupboard door and liberated the biscuit tin. "And the answer to me appears to be, ‘Indeed there are.'"
Molly flicked a dishtowel at them. "Get on, you two. We're having a chat, Tonks and I."
"Women stuff, George," Fred said sagely.
"Best get out while we still can, Fred," George agreed, and the two of them disappeared into the other room, arguing amiably over who should have the last biscuit.
"Boys are a torment," said Molly, shaking her head. "Don't ever have boys, Tonks."
I'm not planning on having anything," Tonks said with great dignity. "I've got far too much to do, what with being an Auror and all." After a moment, she went on, "You were the best at Hexes and Jinxes, Molly, I've heard. And I read your Seventh Year papers, as well as the one you published your first year out of school, about combined-hex research. Aren't you ever sorry you didn't stick with it?"
"Occasionally, yes." Molly waved her wand at the toasting fork, which picked up four slices of bread and propped itself in front of the fire. A moment later a plate of hot buttered toast sat on the table between them. "Marmalade?" she asked, indicating a fat blue pot.
"Thanks." Tonks took a piece of toast, spread marmalade on it, and took an enormous bite. "So why didn't you?" she repeated through a mouthful of crumbs. "Did Arthur not want you working? I know he comes from a Pureblood family, but surely he doesn't believe women shouldn't work."
"Goodness, no. Arthur has always been my staunchest supporter," Molly said, a fond look on her face. "When we got married he said I could do anything I wanted, from having a dozen children to becoming Minister of Magic. But Merlin's beard, if you could have heard my dad!" She shook her head.
"Discouraged you, did he?" Tonks said sympathetically. "Wanted you to stay home like a good Pureblood wife?"
Molly laughed so hard she had to put her teacup down and wipe her eyes on her apron. "Oh, my, no," she finally managed, wiping her eyes. "My family expected me to work. When I had Bill so soon after we got married, and then Charlie just two years later, my father was horrified -- told me in no uncertain terms I ought to be out there pitching in. He actually apologized to Arthur, said he hadn't raised me to burden on any man."
"Ha," said Tonks. "Not my mum's family. Mum says she and Narcissa and Bella were only ever expected to look pretty and marry well. Well, they were expected to be powerful witches, of course. A Black family Squib would probably have been left on the nearest Muggle doorstep if not done away with outright. But they weren't supposed to do anything. Not anything remotely resembling work, anyway."
"Sad, really, that so many Pureblood women let their talents go to waste." Molly shook her head. "Narcissa was immensely gifted at Charms, and of course we all know how powerful Bellatrix is. I've wondered sometimes if that's what led her to side with Vol-- well, You-Know-Who. Because he allowed her -- even encouraged her -- to use her power."
"Maybe," Tonks said sceptically. "Or maybe she's just crazy."
"Well, yes, that too," Molly allowed. "Still, can you imagine Lucius Malfoy letting Narcissa work?" She laughed.
Tonks shrugged. "It's a Pureblood thing, I guess."
"I'm not so sure." Molly stirred her tea thoughtfully. "I think it's more about class than blood. The Prewetts and the Weasleys are as Pureblood as anyone, but they've never been well off. The Malfoys and Blacks, on the other hand, have always had more money than they knew what to do with. Even among Muggles, upper class women didn't work until fairly recently. It's a sign of how rich a man is, I suppose, that he can afford to support a wife as nothing more than an ornament ."
"So if my dad had been a millionaire, Cygnus and Druella would have been fine with Mum marrying a Muggle?" Tonks asked, disbelief plain in her voice. "Somehow I doubt that."
"Merlin, no, they would still have had six kinds of fits," Molly said. "But if they'd managed to look past the lack of magic, I'll wager they would have found they had a lot more in common with such a man than they cared to admit."
"Such as arrogance and too much time on their hands?" Tonks suggested.
Molly grinned. "Something like that. The difference between Muggle society and ours is magic, of course. It throws off the usual balance of power between men and women. In the Muggle world, men have traditionally held most of the power. In the Wizard world, it doesn't matter what you are, it matters how strong you are. And that power has to find an outlet somewhere."
"Professor Quirrell said something like that when I took Muggle Studies from him, years ago," Tonks remembered. "He was a Half-blood, you know. He said it used to be, years and years ago, that you'd see way more Muggle-born girls than boys, but now it's about equal, at least in England and America and most of Europe. But in other parts of the world, where women are more limited in what they're allowed to do, Muggle-borns are still something like eight girls to every boy."
"Yes, it's odd, isn't it?" Molly said, her interest piqued. "I've got a theory about that. Did he say why?"
Tonks frowned. "Well, he said that magic is really just one kind of outlet for power. Muggle men have always had lots of different ways to exercise power, but Muggle women haven't. So in times and places where Muggle girls don't have any other options, lots of them turn up as Muggleborns. Without other outlets, all their potential gets channelled through magic."
"Ha!" said Molly in a pleased tone. "That's exactly what I thought!"
Tonks grinned at her. "See? I bet you could have been president of Chum and Herring's Charm and Hex Research Bureau by now, if you'd wanted to."
"Maybe." Molly looked around the crowded, cluttered room: at Bill's first Quidditch broom, now tattered and retired to kitchen service; Charlie's collection of bones and eggshells in the corner cabinet; the scars on the table left by Fred's and George's last batch of Gunpowder Allsorts; Ginny's doll waiting to have its eye replaced; Ron's Potion-stained robes; Arthur's notes comparing the Muggle Underground to the Floo network scattered across the draining board. Pieces of her life as mother of seven, wife of a Ministry man; as cook, referee, seamstress, chauffeur, tutor, nanny, encyclopaedic dispenser of knowledge and relentless dispenser of manners, roles which had exercised her ingenuity, creativity and patience to the utmost. "No, dear, I think that after all I'm very content with the life I chose." She leaned across the table to give the younger woman a warm hug. "And so will you be, I have no doubt. Your mother will see that in time."
--&&--
Christmas 1995
Tonks leaned against the wall outside the hospital ward at St. Mungo's where Arthur Weasley had been taken. Beside her, Mad-Eye's gaze roamed restlessly up and down the corridor, both eyes -- real and magical -- alert for the slightest sign of ill-will or evil intent. Much as the Auror in her wanted to be in there asking questions and figuring what had gone wrong, she'd made sure she and Mad-Eye waited outside. She knew Molly needed time with her family, to reassure themselves that Arthur really was alive and would recover.
"He will recover, won't he?" she asked Mad-Eye in a low voice. She'd caught a glimpse of Arthur before the door closed behind the family. He looked terrible. It was difficult to recognize cheerful, energetic Arthur in this pale, weak man with his dark-circled eyes. He'd been smiling, making every effort to show them he was fine, but Tonks was far from convinced.
"Course he will!" Mad-Eye barked. "Tough as nails, Arthur. I've seen people survive wounds three times as bad. So've you, come to think of it."
Tonks smiled briefly at Moody's idea of comfort and optimism. "Yes, I guess I have."
The door opened and she heard Molly's voice. "Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside. You can come and say good-bye afterward. Go on..."
Tonks watched as the younger Weasleys filed out; Ginny was crying, while Ron and the twins looked as though they might break down any minute. "Cheer up, you lot," she said, cuffing George lightly on the shoulder and putting an arm around Ginny. "Your dad's a tough one. He'll be fine."
As it turned out, their conversation with Arthur was brief -- putting on a brave show for his children had clearly exhausted him -- and he had little more to tell them than they already knew: Voldemort's giant snake had mysteriously gained access to the Department of Mysteries, attacked him, and then just as mysteriously vanished.
Moody scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing, and if Arthur hadn't been there the beast would've had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?"
"Yes," said Molly. She sounded rather uneasy. "You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this . . ."
"Yeah, well," said Moody, "there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."
"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning," whispered Molly.
"' Course he's worried," growled Moody. "The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously Potter doesn't realise what that means, but of You-Know-Who's possessing him--"
Seeing Molly's face go pale at Mad-Eye's casual words, Tonks spoke up. "I think that's enough for tonight," she said. "Molly, when was the last time you had something to eat?"
"Oh, goodness, I don't know, but I'm fine."
"You're not fine," Tonks said firmly. Anyone could tell looking at her she was about to fall over. "You've been up all night, haven't you?"
"Well, yes." Molly tucked a curl of ginger hair behind her ear and sighed. "But I can't leave, not now..."
"Arthur's practically asleep already," Tonks said, glancing at the figure on the bed which obligingly let out a gentle snore. "Mad-Eye, see the kids get home all right, will you? Molly, you come with me."
Ten minutes later the two women were in St. Mungo's small but comfortable canteen. Tonks fetched two mugs of tea, putting plenty of sugar in Molly's, and the two women sat down at a rickety table in the corner.
"Well, now," Molly said. "How are things with you, dear?"
Her words were cheerful, but Tonks could hear the strain in her friend's voice. "Molly, don't," she said gently. "You don't have to be strong for me."
Molly's face crumpled and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Tonks," she whispered. "I nearly lost him!" Silently she bowed her head and began to weep.
"I know." Tonks reached out and took both Molly's hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. "I know. But you didn't. He'll be all right, I know he will."
"But what then?" Molly clutched her hands as if they were a lifeline. "It won't be over! He'll go right back to work for the Order, putting himself in harm's way again!"
"Not for a while, he won't," Tonks said. "Even when he's out of hospital, they won't ask him to do anything dangerous or difficult for quite some time."
"But he'll volunteer! You know he will!" Molly raised her head and Tonks was startled at the fierce anger in her face. "I know it's a terrible thing to say, but sometimes I hate Dumbledore, him and his self-righteousness and his secrets. He knows more than he's telling, mark my words, and yet we all go on doing what he says, taking orders and asking no questions. Trusting him." A sob escaped from her throat. "Oh, Tonks, if Arthur had died...I don't know if I could ever have forgiven Albus for it."
Tonks remembered the last time she'd seen Remus Lupin, that summer night four months ago when they'd escorted Harry from Privet Drive to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He'd been as kind as ever, even laughed appreciatively at her scheme to lure Harry's awful aunt and uncle away with a fictitious award for the All -England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. But his face was lined, his hair had so much more grey in it, and his clothes had been shabbier than ever. And all of it had only made him dearer to her. She tried to picture a world without him, to think of him as an absence instead of the constant presence he'd begun to be to her. And if they had had twenty years together, children... "I don't blame you a bit," she said firmly. "He's a scheming old arse, that man."
Molly stared at her, mouth open in surprise, and then her lips curved in a shaky smile. "I don't know anyone else I could have said that to," she admitted. "Thank you for that."
"Here, you can say it right to his face," Tonks grinned. Holding her breath in concentration, she made her hair go long and silver, puffed out two enormous bushy eyebrows and a flowing beard, and said in a passable imitation of Dumbledore's sonorous tones, "Dark times lie ahead of us, Molly, but we must always remember to file our knitting patterns correctly..."
Molly dissolved into gales of laughter. "Scheming old arse," she managed to gasp, and then Tonks waggled her eyebrows and she was off again, tears of glee rolling down her cheeks. "Stop, stop," she begged, gasping. "I can't take it any more…"
--&&--
Christmas, 1996
Molly had never seen as woebegone a sight as Tonks standing there on the doorstep. It wasn't raining at the Burrow, but it evidently had been wherever Tonks had come from. Water dripped from the tip of her nose and flattened her hair, which was a mousy, nondescript brown, into lank ribbons. Even Ginny, after her terrible experience in the Chamber of Secrets, Molly thought, had not looked quite so despairing.
"My dear, do come in! Whatever is wrong?" Sudden fear clutched at her then, remembering other desperate visitors in the night. "It's not...no one's been...well, it's not You-Know-Who, is it?"
Tonks' eyes widened. "Oh no, Molly, of course not, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." She waved one hand helplessly. "It's me. I just..." She sniffled miserably.
Molly let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. "Well, then," she said briskly, "whatever it is, it can't be that bad." She took the younger woman's arm and drew her into the kitchen. "Tea?"
Tonks shrugged dispiritedly and dropped into a chair.
Molly gave her a penetrating look. "And something a little stronger, I think." She took a bottle of Wild Manticore from the pantry and sloshed a healthy amount into two mugs, then topped them off with steaming tea. She plunked one down in front of her friend. "Now, talk."
Tonks sniffled again, her eyes red-rimmed and tired. "It's too pathetic and stupid. I can't."
"Of course you can." Molly fished a hanky from a pile of clean laundry in the basket beside her and handed it to her friend. "Is it work?"
Tonks accepted the proffered hanky and blew her nose. "No, work is fine. I mean, well, not fine, everyone's worried about You-Know-Who, wondering what he'll do next." She raised her head and met Molly's eyes. "Was it like this last time, Molly?" she asked hesitantly. "This horrible waiting for something -- anything -- to happen?"
Molly was silent for a long moment, remembering. "Yes," she said finally. "At least, it was for most of us. I don't know what it was like in the Auror Corps. They knew more than the rest of us. I don't know if that made it better or worse."
"The things we've seen lately..." Tonks took a swallow of the whisky-laden tea, her eyes haunted, looking at something visible only in her mind's eye.
"Frank and Alice Longbottom," Molly said softly. "Benjy Fenwick. Marlene McKinnon and her family." Gideon, she thought. Fabian. Oh, how I miss you both... "We've all seen terrible, terrible things, Tonks."
Tonks reached out and took Molly's hand. "I'm sorry, Molly, I shouldn't be talking like this." She glanced at the clock, four of whose hands were pointing to Mortal Peril. "You have enough to worry about."
"True." Pointless to dwell on old nightmares; no doubt there would be new ones to replace them, if things went the way they looked at the moment. "We've enough to do facing the bad times we have now; there's no point in dredging up bad times from the past as well. As my granddad used to say, ‘Never trouble trouble until trouble turns up at your door dressed as an eight-foot Bludger with a bad attitude.'"
A snort of laughter escaped Tonks despite her evident woes. "I don't believe you. Did he really say that?"
"There, I knew that'd get a laugh out of you," Molly said triumphantly. "Now, what is it that's got you so down?"
The younger woman dropped her eyes to her mug, turning it slowly round and round. "It's nothing."
"Nothing, my foot. I got a very cryptic note from your mother this morning, so come clean."
Tonks looked uneasy. "A note? What did it say?"
Molly reached into her pocket and drew out a small piece of parchment. "'Dear Molly,'" she read. "'You're supposed to be her friend, for Circe's sake talk some sense into her. Bill's home for the summer, isn't he? Maybe that will distract her.'"
"Bill?" Tonks sounded scandalized. "She's not matchmaking me and Bill?!"
"Well, you know I had hopes too," Molly admitted candidly, putting the note back in her pocket. "I never exactly made a secret of it."
Tonks squinted her eyes in concentration. Her nose grew excessively small and pointed, her hair lengthened to her waist and went a golden blonde, her eyes gleamed an unnaturally bright sapphire blue. Her expression became supercilious and vaguely cow-like. "I sink Bill would prefer ziss more zan anysing else in ze world," she said, batting outrageously long eyelashes.
Molly smacked her arm. "Now stop that. I know Phlegm--"
"Fleur!" Tonks admonished, lapsing back into her original state with a smile.
"I really must stop Ginny calling her that," Molly muttered, her face bright red. "I know Fleur is a perfectly nice person," she went on, "but you and Bill were such good friends when you were at Hogwarts together. I'll never forget the first time he brought you home for a visit. You made yourself look like all the members of the Muggle Royal Family, one after another. I thought I'd die laughing when you got to that one with the ears!"
"Friends being the key word," Tonks pointed out. Her momentary good humour vanished as quickly as it had come, and she scrubbed at her eyes. "He doesn't even want to be friends."
Molly narrowed her eyes. "If Bill's been unkind to you, I'll snatch him bald-headed!" she said sharply. "Those scars he's got will be nothing to what I'll do to him!"
Tonks flushed. "No, I meant Remus."
"Remus? What about Remus?"
"I...I love him, Molly." Her eyes filled with tears. "And he won't even talk to me!"
"Love him?" Molly stared at her friend. Remus' affliction had made his life so terribly difficult; she couldn't help but quail at the thought of what such a life would mean for her friend. She groped for something comforting to say, but even her good-natured optimism failed her for the moment. "Does he...does he know how you feel?"
"Oh, yes," Tonks said glumly. "That's the problem. I told him, one night a couple of months ago. I said I'd buy him dinner -- you know how he always looks like he's not getting enough to eat -- and somewhere between the shepherd's pie and the custard tart I blurted out, ‘Lupin, I love you.'"
Molly smothered a smile at the thought of diffident, reserved Remus Lupin confronted with the irrepressible Tonks and her bubble-gum pink hair. Well, maybe they were perfect for each other after all. "What did he say, dear?"
"Well, after he finished nearly choking on his tart, he told me all the reasons it would never work."
Molly tsked. "Silly man. What reasons?"
Tonks took a deep breath. "Well, in ascending order of importance: he's got no job at the moment, no prospects of a job in the future, and no money so no way to support a family, he's got no permanent home so nowhere to live, Greyback's actively hunting him so anyone around him is in danger, and he's in the Order of the Phoenix so he could be killed any minute." She took a swallow of tea. "Oh, and he's a werewolf. Mustn't forget that one."
"That's quite a list," Molly agreed. "I assume you argued with him?"
Tonks' hair took on a slight greenish tinge and her eyebrows darkened. "I told him he was an idiot, among other things. Short-sighted, selfish, and a pain in the arse as well. He just gave me those sad puppy-dog eyes, and he's hardly said two words to me since." She drained her mug and held it out. "Got any more of that whisky, Molly?"
"Oh, that stupid, stupid man," Molly said angrily, rising and shoving back her chair with a jerk. She refilled both their mugs with tea and Wild Manticore and thumped them down on the table. "Idiotic fool, with his ridiculous ideas of nobility and his condescending attitude. Treating you like a child who needs to be protected, why, I have half a mind to--"
"Don't you criticise him," Tonks retorted with magnificent illogic, her hair flaming a bright turquoise. "It's because he loves me! He's the kindest man I know!"
Molly's face softened. "I know, I know. He's got a good heart, poor man. But he's spent his whole life hiding, afraid that people will find out...well, you know."
"Of course! And it's not just the Wizarding world!" Tonks stood up and began to pace the kitchen, mug in one hand, the other rumpling her hair. "The Muggle world hates wolves too. When I was little, my dad used to read me Muggle fairy tales, like Beedle the Bard, only instead of The Tale of the Three Brothers we had the Three Little Pigs."
"Pigs?" Molly said, startled. "Why would anyone tell a story about pigs?"
Tonks waved the hand holding the mug impatiently and an arc of tea slopped onto the floor with a wet splat. "I don't know. The point is, this big bad wolf comes along and tries to eat these pigs, only he fails, because the pigs outsmart him. So not only is the wolf vicious, he's stupid. And don't even get me started on Little Red Riding Hood!"
Molly Vanished the puddle of tea. "Riding Littlehood? Who's she?"
"Little Red Riding Hood. She has to go through the forest to take her sick grandmother something, I forget what, so she puts on this beautiful red hood and cloak. The wolf is obsessed with her and follows her--"
"The same wolf that tried to eat the pigs?"
"No, a different one. Anyway, he follows her through the woods, trying to get her to talk to him. Finally he decides the only way he'll get her is to trick her, so he eats her grandmother, puts on the old lady's clothes, and climbs into her bed to wait for Little Red Riding Hood. When she gets there, he eats her, but then a woodcutter comes in and cuts the wolf open and she climbs out, neat as you please."
"I suppose it was the Muggles' way of teaching their children not to wander about in the woods," Molly said doubtfully. "Though telling them they'll get eaten seems a bit extreme. But then why suggest they can just pop out of its stomach afterwards?" She frowned, puzzled.
"It is odd, isn't it?" Tonks said, pausing a moment. "I asked Hermione once, and she said the story's actually all about sex. Which doesn't make any sense, either. But the point is," she resumed her circuit of the room, "the wolf is the villain again. And he's stupid to boot. Again." She turned pained eyes on her friend. "How do we fight that kind of prejudice, Molly? When it's even taught to Muggle children in their fairy tales?"
"Tonks," Molly said gently, "if you're going to love him, do it with open eyes. It's not the wolf itself that frightens people. It's the were- part. He --"
Tonks' eyes flashed. "I never thought I'd hear that from you of all people, Molly!' she said with some heat. "You're the last person I thought would be prejudiced against him!"
"I'm not!" Molly retorted, stung. "Remus Lupin is a good and gentle man with a kind heart, and I love him dearly. Last summer, that boggart in the wardrobe at Number 12…" She shivered at the memory, the vision of the dead bodies of her husband, her sons. "Well, he helped me that night and never said a word to Arthur about it, knowing how it would worry him."
"Then why--"
"Because you can't pretend that there's no danger!" Molly cried. "Don't you see? As long as he thinks you're not seeing him clearly, he'll keep pushing you away. He'll think you haven't thought it through, that your love has blinded you to the problems the two of you will face. Not just from your parents, but from a lot of other witches and wizards too."
Tonks opened her mouth, then closed it and sat in silence for a long moment. "You're saying that he doesn't believe I'd stay with him," she said finally. "He thinks I'll give up on him."
Molly smiled sadly. "Oh, no, dear. I'm saying he doesn't believe he's worth the heartache he will cause you. It's not you he's doubting. It's himself." She paused a moment, then muttered, "Stupid man."
"If only he'd talk to me," Tonks mourned. "He avoids me, and when we do accidentally run into each other, he just...he just looks at me, and backs away."
Molly's lips twitched. "Have you tried dressing up as Little Red Riding Hood? He might find that irresistible."
Tonks' snorted, her hair went blood red from scalp to tip, and a moment later both women were howling with laughter. They laughed until they were nearly helpless, slumped in their chairs and chortling like maniacs, panting from lack of breath and holding their sides in pain.
At last their fit of hilarity began to fade. Molly wiped her eyes as a last stray giggle escaped.
Tonks looked almost cheerful again, then her face fell slightly. "But really, Molly, what am I going to do? Mum and Dad are horrified at the idea. Mum more than Dad, because she's seen what happens when...when someone...well, when someone changes...but Dad's just as opposed to it."
Molly narrowed her eyes. "You listen to me, Nymphadora Tonks," she said. "You love this man, and he loves you. You marry him, and marry him quick. There's no knowing how much time any of us have, especially now. And none of it should be wasted on what-if's."
Tonks leaned across the table and gave Molly a warm hug. "Thanks, Molly. I knew you'd be on my side. But I've still got to convince Remus," she added sadly.
Molly scowled. "Just give me two minutes with him, I'll sort him out."
Suddenly there came a knock at the door, startling them both. Molly pulled her worn green dressing gown tight around her and went to the door. "Who's there?" she said sharply. "Declare yourself!"
"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry."
"Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!" she said, opening the door wide.
"We were lucky," said Dumbledore, ushering Harry across the threshold. "Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Harry's doing, of course." He turned his eyes to the young woman at the table. "Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"
"Hello, Professor," she said. "Wotcher, Harry." She glanced at Molly, then rose. "I'd better be off. Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."
"Please, don't leave on my account," Dumbledore said courteously. "I cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour."
"No, no, I need to get going," said Tonks. She gave a lopsided smile. "Night --"
"Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend?" Molly interrupted. "Remus and Mad-Eye are coming."
"No, really, Molly. Thanks anyway. Good night, everyone." Tonks hurried past Dumbledore and Harry into the yard; a few paces beyond the doorstep, she turned on the spot and vanished into thin air. Molly sighed and gazed after her, worry and concern plain on her face, then turned to Harry. "Well, dear, come in..."
--&&--
July, 1997
Tonks draped the dress over the back of the dilapidate sofa in the Burrow's living room. "Well, what do you think?" she asked anxiously. "Nice enough, but not too nice?"
Andromeda had wanted white, or at least cream, but Tonks had stood firm and the calf-length dress was of deep blue velvet. The hem and the square neckline were edged with silver embroidery that formed a line of running wolves.
"Beautiful, dear." Molly ran her hand down the soft nap of the velvet. "How does Lupin feel about the trim?"
Tonks laughed. "He said if I was determined to marry a werewolf, there was no sense in being shy about it."
"Thank goodness he's come to his senses," Molly said with a grin. "Now, what about your hair? What will you do with it?"
"I was thinking a lighter blue, with dark blue highlights. And silver tips, to match the trim." She bit her lip. "Too much, do you think? I know it's just a small wedding, but I still want it to be special."
Molly smiled warmly. "That sounds lovely, dear. Just perfect." She picked up the dress and hung it on a hook on the back of the door, stepping back to admire it.
"Oh, good." Tonks flopped down on the sofa at full-length, making the lamp on the side table wobble dangerously. "Thanks for standing with me tomorrow, Molly," she added shyly. "It...well, it means a lot to me."
"Of course I would! Was there ever any doubt?"
"It'll be nice to have one person there who's truly happy for us." Tonks recalled her father's pained acceptance, her mother's fretful worry. "Mum and Dad aren't exactly thrilled."
"They're worried about you, that's all," Molly said. "Occupational hazard of being a parent. We always want our children's paths through life to be strewn with roses. Luckily, you're not my daughter -- you're my friend. That means I have the luxury of being entirely happy for you when you marry not only the man you love, but a good man and a brave one as well."
Tonks glanced at the clock, all of whose hands were pointing to Mortal Peril. ""How do you do it, Molly? How do you let your children go, day after day, never knowing if they'll come home? Aren't you afraid for them? Charlie, Bill, Ginny?"
Molly sighed. "It isn't easy, I admit. Having a child is...well, it's to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. No matter where they go or what they do, a piece of you will be out there wandering the world with them."
Tonks grimaced. Loving Remus, worrying about him, that was hard enough. To have children as well was beyond imagining. "To be honest, it sounds terrifying."
"Oh, it is," Molly laughed. "But it's also the most amazing thing you can imagine. It's like…do you know what a Horcrux is?"
Tonks blanched. "Merlin, yes. Where did you hear about them? They're not exactly common knowledge."
Molly shrugged. "Oh, I don't remember now. Probably some Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Anyway, having a child is like an anti-Horcrux. Instead of splitting your soul through violence, you multiply it through love."
"Well, that certainly makes it sound more appealing." Tonks rolled over onto her side and stared into space. "But Molly..."
"If you're worried about the actual process," Molly went on, "I can assure you that it's worth it."
Tonks made a face. "It's not that." She hesitated, unwilling to confess her deepest fear even to her closest friend. "It's...well, what if our children, Remus' and mine...what if there's something wrong with them?"
Molly sighed. "Oh my dear, there are never any guarantees. Shall I tell you something I've never told anyone, not even Arthur?" She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I was terrified that our children would be Squibs."
"What?" Tonks was shocked. "With you and Arthur as their parents?"
"Oh, but I was. Squibs can happen in any family."
"But after you had Bill, and he was fine, that must have helped, right?"
Molly shook her head slowly, remembering. "Not in the least. Every single time, I was afraid. Not for myself, you know, but for them. It would have been hard for me to see them denied something that's so much a part of all our lives."
Tonks thought of Argus Filch, and of something Dumbledore had said once, about Lily Potter's sister, Petunia. "Do you think it's harder to be a Squib than it is to be the brother or sister of a Muggle-born?" she wondered aloud.
"I don't know. It's hard for me to imagine a parent not loving any child, no matter what their abilities. If any of mine had been Squibs I would have loved them anyway, maybe even loved them more for their difference. And that's really the point: it doesn't matter what they're like. You'll love because they're yours and his, together. And for themselves."
"Even if what they are is all wolf?" Tonks asked softly. She thought of Greyback and shuddered convulsively.
Molly made an exclamation of surprise. "But that's impossible! Lycanthropy's passed on by biting people, it's not inherited!"
"I know. So does Remus. But he can't stop worrying about it." She sighed. "And werewolves can pass on their wolf traits under certain conditions, so there must be some part of it that's inherited. Inheritable. Whatever."
Molly frowned. "I never heard that. What conditions?"
"If two werewolves mate during the full moon, their offspring will be pure wolf. Or almost pure -- they tend to be very smart wolves, and not at all aggressive towards humans. Dumbledore offered to find a home for a litter of them once," she added. "That's where the stories of werewolves in the Forbidden Forest came from, didn't you know?"
"No, I didn't," Molly said. "But it doesn't matter," she went on firmly. "Unless there's some secret you've been keeping from all of us, it doesn't sound like you have anything to worry about."
For a moment Tonks looked into the grim future of her nightmares, feral children without a speck of humanity. Would saying it aloud make it more frightening, or less? "Sometimes I have nightmares about it," she admitted finally. "And I can't talk to Remus about it, he's already worried enough. He'll think it means we shouldn't have kids. And I want to have kids, Molly," she said fiercely. "I want it more than anything."
Molly raised her eyebrows. "Well, yes, but not right away, surely?" she said hesitantly. "I mean, things are so unsettled now what with You-Know-Who. Do you really want to have children in the middle of a war?"
"There was a war going on when you and Arthur got married," Tonks pointed out. "And you didn't wait."
"True. But still, you've got your work as Auror, and on top of that there's all you do for the Order of the Phoenix."
"Actually--" Tonks broke off abruptly. "Hold on a minute." She got up and went into the kitchen, glanced around briefly, then stuck her head out into the hall to look up the staircase. Seeing no one, she came back into the room and returned to her seat on the couch.
"Whatever are you doing?" Molly asked, watching her curiously.
"Making sure no one's listening. Don't forget I've seen the twins' Extendable Ears," Tonks said with a lopsided grin. "Molly, what would you say if I told you there won't be any Auror work for me before long?"
Molly's eyebrows went up in surprise. "You're not thinking of leaving the Auror corps, surely? I didn't mean to suggest that you should, that you had to choose between that and having a baby."
"No. But there won't be much Ministry work for any of us soon." Tonks took a deep breath. "In fact, we're pretty sure there won't be much of a Ministry soon."
"What in Hecate's name do you mean?" Molly said sharply. "I know things aren't going well -- I may not officially be an Order member, still I can't help but know that. And Arthur's been worried sick lately, that's obvious, but he asked me please not to press him about it, so I haven't..."
"You-Know-Who is putting a lot of effort into taking over the Ministry," Tonks went on in a low voice. "We know of two Ministry officials under the Imperius curse. There are probably more. Scrimgeour sleeps in a different place every night, with his wand under his pillow, but even he thinks it's only a matter of time."
Molly stared at Tonks, her face under its flaming hair gone suddenly white as paper. "What are you saying?" she whispered. "Tonks, what are you saying?"
Tonks' hair had gone a dead black, as had her eyes. "The Ministry will fall," she said quietly. "And then it will just be the Order. And whoever is willing to stay on at the Ministry while secretly opposing them."
"People like Arthur," Molly guessed. "No wonder he didn't tell me, the silly old fool." She stood up and began to pace the room angrily.
"The Order wouldn't ask it of him, but I'm sure he'll volunteer," Tonks admitted, not meeting her friend's eyes.
"Oh, that man!" Molly's eyes narrowed and her lips set in a grim line. "Wanting to be a hero at his age, and with seven children!"
Tonks raised her head abruptly and her eyes were a bright, snapping blue. "You think once someone has kids, they should stop putting themselves in danger?" she demanded.
"I think I'd like him to see his first grandchild," Molly shot back angrily.
Tonks jumped to her feet. "You want him to stop doing what's right and just do what's easy?" she challenged. "I know you, Molly. I don't believe that for a minute."
Molly's eyes filled with tears. "I want the people I love to be safe," she whispered. "That includes you, by the way. Silly girl."
At the unmistakable tone of affection, Tonks half-smiled despite the lump in her throat. "Oh, Molly, if we don't all do everything we can, none of us will be safe. You know that as well as I do."
"All the more reason for you and Remus to wait," the older woman said with a sniff, circling back to their original discussion. "You'll be busy fighting, running all over England, probably getting hexed to within an inch of your life."
"No. All the more reason for us to have a child now. Before it's too late. And besides," Tonks reminded her gently, "love is the best way to fight You-Know-Who. You told me that, remember? You said your way of fighting him, and people who thought like him, was to have as many children as possible and raise them to believe every life is valuable, whether Muggle or Wizard."
Molly threw up her hands in surrender. "Caught by my own fancy words," she admitted. "Well, at least promise me you'll be as careful as you can. I do love you, you know."
"As careful as I can," Tonks said. "I promise. And if anything happens --"
"Shush," Molly interrupted, giving her a quick hug. "Time enough to worry about that later. Tonight, we've got a wedding to finish planning. And let's talk about baby names, shall we? It never hurts to plan these things out well in advance."
--&&--
May 1998 / Sep 2017
Forever after, there would be blank spaces in Molly's memories of that terrible May day. The name of the person who had told her Fred was dead, for example. She was glad not to remember that, because she wasn't sure she would ever have been able to forgive the person who broke her heart for the second time that day.
But she remembered very clearly who broke it the first time.
From across the Great Hall, amid the chaos of spells and shouts and screams, she had seen Tonks at the foot of the stairs facing Bellatrix on the step above her. Bellatrix was shrieking with glee, Tonks grimly silent, each of them so focused on the other that their wands were nothing but blurs.
As careful as I can, Molly, I promise...
And then Tonks stumbled, and Bellatrix raised her wand, a mad grin on her face, and there was a flash of light and Tonks crumpled and fell, and it was as if all the sounds of battle were suddenly cut off except for Bellatrix's shriek of triumph which sliced into Molly's heart like a knife.
Then Bellatrix had turned on Ginny, and in Molly's mind was suddenly nothing but a red, red rage and a furious determination: Bellatrix had taken her best friend; she would not take her daughter as well...
Molly had other friends over the years, good friends, new ones as well as old. Friends she liked and trusted, laughed and cried with. But no one could take Tonks' place, so when Ginny, laughing, told her what James had said just before he and Albus boarded the Hogwarts Express for Albus' first year at school ("Our Teddy! Teddy Lupin! Snogging our Victoire!") she felt comforted. She was sure that somehow, somewhere, Tonks was smiling.
-- Finis --
Prompt/Prompt Author: "They appear to be close-ish in canon. What kind of friendship is it? A few ideas: Maybe Molly sees Tonks as the woman she might have been if she'd made different choices. Does she urge Tonks to pursue Lupin, and maybe get pregnant, out of supportive friendship, or is it something else? Or take the opposite approach: Molly sees Tonks making the same choices she did, and tries to talk her out of it. Or maybe Molly wants to convince Tonks that she doesn't have to choose one or the other--maybe Tonks has choices that weren't open to Molly." squibstress
Title: To Understand and To Be Understood
Characters: Molly Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks; cameos by Mad-Eye Moody, Fred and George, Dumbledore and one or two others.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death (canon)
Word Count: ~8800
Summary: "One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood." -- Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Author's Notes: Thanks to my speedy and eagle-eyed beta for her Britpicks and excellent suggestions. Text in bold was taken directly from Rowling's books. Molly's line about having children being "to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body" is from author Elizabeth Stone. The information about what happens when two werewolves mate under the full moon comes from pottermore.com.
--&&--
Summer, 1994
Hands on her hips, Molly took one last look around the Burrow. Streamers reading "Congratulations, Auror Tonks!" festooned the mantelpiece; Fred and George, home from school for the summer, had enchanted the words so that they twinkled like fairy lights in a shifting range of colours. Platters of food -- sandwiches, Cornish pasties and mini-tarts, apple pies, cake, and an enormous trifle -- filled every available flat surface. From a pot of mulled wine simmering on the stove wafted the delicious odours of cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg, and bottles of butterbeer were chilling in a metal bucket by the door.
She nodded to herself in satisfaction just as a loud knock sounded from the front door.
"Come in!" she shouted.
The door opened, then slammed closed and she heard uneven footsteps thump into the room behind her. "Molly, you're a fool," a voice growled. "Should've come to the door and made sure it was me. What good is constant vigilance if y'don't exercise it?"
"As if I could mistake your knock for anyone else's, Alastor," she retorted, turning to give the older man a hug.
He merely grunted in response, but she received the distinct impression he was pleased with her answer. "Tonks not here yet?"
Molly glanced at the clock, where one hand pointed to "Romania," two to "Traveling" and five to "Home". "It's only just now gone seven, she should be here any minute." Moody glanced around, magical eye twirling madly, and Molly stifled a grin, remembering how long it had taken her to become accustomed to its independent activity. "Relax, Alastor. Arthur always makes sure our protective charms are all up-to-date. You don't think he'd take any chances where his family is concerned, surely!"
Moody scowled. "Only takes once, Molly." He tapped his eye meaningfully with a hoary forefinger. "One moment of inattention, and BANG."
Simultaneously with the last word, something exploded immediately above their heads. Moody's wand was in his hand almost before Molly's shriek of alarm died down, and in seconds the twins' festive cloud of glittering confetti was nothing more than tiny flakes of ash.
"Sorry, Mum," Fred's voice said from the first floor landing.
"Looks like the spell was a bit off," George chimed in.
"It was supposed to go off--"
"--when Tonks walked in."
"You two!" Molly said furiously. "Wait till your father gets home!"
Fred and George exchanged a glance. "Actually, Mum--" said Fred.
"--he taught us that spell," George finished.
Molly narrowed her eyes at the two of them and opened her mouth, but before she could speak Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Kingsley Shacklebolt came through the front door, all talking at once. Behind them she saw Elphias Doge and Emmeline Vance and several others. Fred and George, emboldened by the presence of others, clambered merrily down the stairs and began shaking hands as if they were politicians and handing out butterbeers to all and sundry. Molly shook her head, half-laughing and half-annoyed. Lecturing the twins would just have to wait, she decided.
Bill's head appeared over the railing, attracted by the noise. "Bill!" Molly called. "Get yourself down here. And tell Ron and Ginny to come down too! She'll be here any minute!"
"Right, mum!" Bill's head disappeared and she heard him shouting for his brother and sister.
Molly glanced round and, not seeing her husband, was about to send someone out to his workroom to see if he'd arrived yet, when she heard the back door and a moment later Arthur appeared from the direction of the kitchen. "Molly my dear!" he said, kissing her on the cheek and looking around with pleasure at the animated crowd. "You always make everything so lovely."
She put an arm around his waist. "I wanted something special for Tonks," she said. "She's worked so hard at her training -- Mad-Eye says she's one of the best he's ever trained at Concealment and Disguise, but she had a terrible time with Stealth and Tracking. You know how she's always knocking things over."
"Lucky for us, otherwise we'd still have Great-Aunt Tessie's cursed teapot." Arthur shivered in mock terror.
A tiny flickering light landed on Molly's shoulder and she listened attentively as it twittered into her ear. "Shush, everyone!" she called, waving her arms to get their attention. "It's time, she's coming! Shhhhhh!"
Silence fell. With a flick of her wand, Molly dimmed the lights. Seconds later there was a light tap on the door. With a wink at Mad-Eye Moody, Molly went to the door. "Who is it?" she trilled.
"It's me, Molly -- Tonks. You did say seven, right?" Molly opened the door and Tonks stepped inside, still talking. "Sorry I'm late, I think I knocked over your wheelbarrow--"
The massed shout of "SURPRISE!!!" sent her hair a shocking neon green and nearly rattled the roof off the Burrow.
Nothing but crumbs remained on the platters of food, the bucket of butterbeer bottles had been emptied three times, and the last guest had bid them farewell and Apparated (in some cases rather unsteadily) homeward when Tonks collapsed into a chair in the kitchen, happy but exhausted by four hours of non-stop talking, hugs, and congratulations.
"Cup of tea, dear?" Molly asked. She Vanished a stack of inedible toffees, a result of the twins' failed effort earlier in the evening to conjure supplementary sweets when the trifle ran out.
"That'd be lovely, Molly, thanks." Tonks gave a jaw-cracking yawn. "It was great to see everyone."
"And then off to bed," Molly said severely. "We can't have you starting your career as an Auror so tired you can't see!"
"I'm glad you invited Remus. I haven't had much of a chance to talk to him before -- he's quite nice. It was really sweet of you to do this," she added. "You didn't have to."
"Of course I did!" Molly said indignantly, setting two cups on the table and filling them from a steaming teapot. "That's what friends are for: to help you celebrate the good times."
"And cope with the bad," Tonks said with a smile.
"That, too," Molly agreed. "Ideally, more of the former than the latter."
"You've done both for me, Molly. I hope you know how grateful I am."
"Just as you have for me." Molly said with a warm smile. "Drink your tea. It's chamomile, it'll help you unwind."
Tonks took a long sip and set the cup down with a satisfied sigh. The two women sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.
"I did invite your mother, you know," Molly said finally, her voice uncharacteristically diffident. "She declined. Without thanks."
Tonks grimaced but said nothing.
"She's not happy about your career choice, is she?" Molly guessed.
Tonks shook her head. "No. She never has been."
"Is it the Aurors in particular? Or is it that silly Pureblood idea that women shouldn't work?"
"My mum'd be the last one to care about silly Pureblood beliefs," Tonks scoffed. "You know that, Molly."
"Well, yes," Molly acknowledged, "but old habits die hard sometimes. So it's the Aurors in particular? But why? She ought to be proud of you!" She stirred sugar into her tea so vigorously it splashed out of the cup, and she Vanished the puddle with an irritated exclamation. "Just getting into Auror training isn't exactly a walk down a country lane, let alone working as one!"
"That's just it," Tonks said. "She thinks it's too dangerous. Well, that, and..." Her voice trailed off and her hair, which she'd made a festive tartan early in the evening on a dare from the twins, faded to a shabby ash-blonde.
"There's something worse than being killed?" Molly asked, making a droll face. "Whatever could it be?"
Tonks chewed her lip, evidently reluctant to explain. "It's V--He Who Must Not Be Named," she said at last. "If he really is back--"
"If??" Molly rolled her eyes. "Tonks, please don't spoil a lovely evening by reminding me of Cornelius Fudge!"
Tonks grinned briefly. "Sorry. The point is, as an Auror, I would be -- will be -- opposing not only You-Know-Who, but also anyone who supports him. Which means..."
"Which means you may end up fighting her sisters," Molly finished slowly. "One of them at least, if not both." Molly sighed. "My dear, I'm so sorry." She tried to think of something comforting, but nothing came to mind so she simply patted Tonks' hand.
"I couldn't not be an Auror," Tonks went on, brows creased with the intensity of her emotion. "It's all I've ever wanted. Because of how things were with Mum and her family, I guess. Them erasing her like she never existed, and the stories she told about how they treated Sirius...this stupid idea, people thinking they're better than others just because of their family and believing that Muggles are worthless rabble." Hot pink streaks crept through her hair as she spoke.
Molly nodded. "I know just what you mean. It makes you want to get out there and do something. I'm sorry sometimes that I didn't join the Order of the Phoenix, take a more active role. But I suppose my way of battling those sorts of beliefs was by raising our children to understand that every life is valuable, be it Muggle or Wizard. A lot of young couples who got married around the same time as Arthur and me, they put off having children, out of fear." She smiled. "Our answer to the fear was to show our faith in the future by having as many children as possible."
"What do you think, George, do you feel like an answer?"
Molly and Tonks looked up to see the twins lounging in the doorway, as alike as two peas in a pod.
George put on a face of intense concentration. "No, Fred, upon due consideration, I feel much more like a question."
"And what would you, as a question, be, George?"
"I believe, Fred, I would be ‘Are there any more ginger biscuits, Mum'." George opened a cupboard door and liberated the biscuit tin. "And the answer to me appears to be, ‘Indeed there are.'"
Molly flicked a dishtowel at them. "Get on, you two. We're having a chat, Tonks and I."
"Women stuff, George," Fred said sagely.
"Best get out while we still can, Fred," George agreed, and the two of them disappeared into the other room, arguing amiably over who should have the last biscuit.
"Boys are a torment," said Molly, shaking her head. "Don't ever have boys, Tonks."
I'm not planning on having anything," Tonks said with great dignity. "I've got far too much to do, what with being an Auror and all." After a moment, she went on, "You were the best at Hexes and Jinxes, Molly, I've heard. And I read your Seventh Year papers, as well as the one you published your first year out of school, about combined-hex research. Aren't you ever sorry you didn't stick with it?"
"Occasionally, yes." Molly waved her wand at the toasting fork, which picked up four slices of bread and propped itself in front of the fire. A moment later a plate of hot buttered toast sat on the table between them. "Marmalade?" she asked, indicating a fat blue pot.
"Thanks." Tonks took a piece of toast, spread marmalade on it, and took an enormous bite. "So why didn't you?" she repeated through a mouthful of crumbs. "Did Arthur not want you working? I know he comes from a Pureblood family, but surely he doesn't believe women shouldn't work."
"Goodness, no. Arthur has always been my staunchest supporter," Molly said, a fond look on her face. "When we got married he said I could do anything I wanted, from having a dozen children to becoming Minister of Magic. But Merlin's beard, if you could have heard my dad!" She shook her head.
"Discouraged you, did he?" Tonks said sympathetically. "Wanted you to stay home like a good Pureblood wife?"
Molly laughed so hard she had to put her teacup down and wipe her eyes on her apron. "Oh, my, no," she finally managed, wiping her eyes. "My family expected me to work. When I had Bill so soon after we got married, and then Charlie just two years later, my father was horrified -- told me in no uncertain terms I ought to be out there pitching in. He actually apologized to Arthur, said he hadn't raised me to burden on any man."
"Ha," said Tonks. "Not my mum's family. Mum says she and Narcissa and Bella were only ever expected to look pretty and marry well. Well, they were expected to be powerful witches, of course. A Black family Squib would probably have been left on the nearest Muggle doorstep if not done away with outright. But they weren't supposed to do anything. Not anything remotely resembling work, anyway."
"Sad, really, that so many Pureblood women let their talents go to waste." Molly shook her head. "Narcissa was immensely gifted at Charms, and of course we all know how powerful Bellatrix is. I've wondered sometimes if that's what led her to side with Vol-- well, You-Know-Who. Because he allowed her -- even encouraged her -- to use her power."
"Maybe," Tonks said sceptically. "Or maybe she's just crazy."
"Well, yes, that too," Molly allowed. "Still, can you imagine Lucius Malfoy letting Narcissa work?" She laughed.
Tonks shrugged. "It's a Pureblood thing, I guess."
"I'm not so sure." Molly stirred her tea thoughtfully. "I think it's more about class than blood. The Prewetts and the Weasleys are as Pureblood as anyone, but they've never been well off. The Malfoys and Blacks, on the other hand, have always had more money than they knew what to do with. Even among Muggles, upper class women didn't work until fairly recently. It's a sign of how rich a man is, I suppose, that he can afford to support a wife as nothing more than an ornament ."
"So if my dad had been a millionaire, Cygnus and Druella would have been fine with Mum marrying a Muggle?" Tonks asked, disbelief plain in her voice. "Somehow I doubt that."
"Merlin, no, they would still have had six kinds of fits," Molly said. "But if they'd managed to look past the lack of magic, I'll wager they would have found they had a lot more in common with such a man than they cared to admit."
"Such as arrogance and too much time on their hands?" Tonks suggested.
Molly grinned. "Something like that. The difference between Muggle society and ours is magic, of course. It throws off the usual balance of power between men and women. In the Muggle world, men have traditionally held most of the power. In the Wizard world, it doesn't matter what you are, it matters how strong you are. And that power has to find an outlet somewhere."
"Professor Quirrell said something like that when I took Muggle Studies from him, years ago," Tonks remembered. "He was a Half-blood, you know. He said it used to be, years and years ago, that you'd see way more Muggle-born girls than boys, but now it's about equal, at least in England and America and most of Europe. But in other parts of the world, where women are more limited in what they're allowed to do, Muggle-borns are still something like eight girls to every boy."
"Yes, it's odd, isn't it?" Molly said, her interest piqued. "I've got a theory about that. Did he say why?"
Tonks frowned. "Well, he said that magic is really just one kind of outlet for power. Muggle men have always had lots of different ways to exercise power, but Muggle women haven't. So in times and places where Muggle girls don't have any other options, lots of them turn up as Muggleborns. Without other outlets, all their potential gets channelled through magic."
"Ha!" said Molly in a pleased tone. "That's exactly what I thought!"
Tonks grinned at her. "See? I bet you could have been president of Chum and Herring's Charm and Hex Research Bureau by now, if you'd wanted to."
"Maybe." Molly looked around the crowded, cluttered room: at Bill's first Quidditch broom, now tattered and retired to kitchen service; Charlie's collection of bones and eggshells in the corner cabinet; the scars on the table left by Fred's and George's last batch of Gunpowder Allsorts; Ginny's doll waiting to have its eye replaced; Ron's Potion-stained robes; Arthur's notes comparing the Muggle Underground to the Floo network scattered across the draining board. Pieces of her life as mother of seven, wife of a Ministry man; as cook, referee, seamstress, chauffeur, tutor, nanny, encyclopaedic dispenser of knowledge and relentless dispenser of manners, roles which had exercised her ingenuity, creativity and patience to the utmost. "No, dear, I think that after all I'm very content with the life I chose." She leaned across the table to give the younger woman a warm hug. "And so will you be, I have no doubt. Your mother will see that in time."
--&&--
Christmas 1995
Tonks leaned against the wall outside the hospital ward at St. Mungo's where Arthur Weasley had been taken. Beside her, Mad-Eye's gaze roamed restlessly up and down the corridor, both eyes -- real and magical -- alert for the slightest sign of ill-will or evil intent. Much as the Auror in her wanted to be in there asking questions and figuring what had gone wrong, she'd made sure she and Mad-Eye waited outside. She knew Molly needed time with her family, to reassure themselves that Arthur really was alive and would recover.
"He will recover, won't he?" she asked Mad-Eye in a low voice. She'd caught a glimpse of Arthur before the door closed behind the family. He looked terrible. It was difficult to recognize cheerful, energetic Arthur in this pale, weak man with his dark-circled eyes. He'd been smiling, making every effort to show them he was fine, but Tonks was far from convinced.
"Course he will!" Mad-Eye barked. "Tough as nails, Arthur. I've seen people survive wounds three times as bad. So've you, come to think of it."
Tonks smiled briefly at Moody's idea of comfort and optimism. "Yes, I guess I have."
The door opened and she heard Molly's voice. "Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside. You can come and say good-bye afterward. Go on..."
Tonks watched as the younger Weasleys filed out; Ginny was crying, while Ron and the twins looked as though they might break down any minute. "Cheer up, you lot," she said, cuffing George lightly on the shoulder and putting an arm around Ginny. "Your dad's a tough one. He'll be fine."
As it turned out, their conversation with Arthur was brief -- putting on a brave show for his children had clearly exhausted him -- and he had little more to tell them than they already knew: Voldemort's giant snake had mysteriously gained access to the Department of Mysteries, attacked him, and then just as mysteriously vanished.
Moody scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing, and if Arthur hadn't been there the beast would've had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?"
"Yes," said Molly. She sounded rather uneasy. "You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this . . ."
"Yeah, well," said Moody, "there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."
"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning," whispered Molly.
"' Course he's worried," growled Moody. "The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously Potter doesn't realise what that means, but of You-Know-Who's possessing him--"
Seeing Molly's face go pale at Mad-Eye's casual words, Tonks spoke up. "I think that's enough for tonight," she said. "Molly, when was the last time you had something to eat?"
"Oh, goodness, I don't know, but I'm fine."
"You're not fine," Tonks said firmly. Anyone could tell looking at her she was about to fall over. "You've been up all night, haven't you?"
"Well, yes." Molly tucked a curl of ginger hair behind her ear and sighed. "But I can't leave, not now..."
"Arthur's practically asleep already," Tonks said, glancing at the figure on the bed which obligingly let out a gentle snore. "Mad-Eye, see the kids get home all right, will you? Molly, you come with me."
Ten minutes later the two women were in St. Mungo's small but comfortable canteen. Tonks fetched two mugs of tea, putting plenty of sugar in Molly's, and the two women sat down at a rickety table in the corner.
"Well, now," Molly said. "How are things with you, dear?"
Her words were cheerful, but Tonks could hear the strain in her friend's voice. "Molly, don't," she said gently. "You don't have to be strong for me."
Molly's face crumpled and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Tonks," she whispered. "I nearly lost him!" Silently she bowed her head and began to weep.
"I know." Tonks reached out and took both Molly's hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. "I know. But you didn't. He'll be all right, I know he will."
"But what then?" Molly clutched her hands as if they were a lifeline. "It won't be over! He'll go right back to work for the Order, putting himself in harm's way again!"
"Not for a while, he won't," Tonks said. "Even when he's out of hospital, they won't ask him to do anything dangerous or difficult for quite some time."
"But he'll volunteer! You know he will!" Molly raised her head and Tonks was startled at the fierce anger in her face. "I know it's a terrible thing to say, but sometimes I hate Dumbledore, him and his self-righteousness and his secrets. He knows more than he's telling, mark my words, and yet we all go on doing what he says, taking orders and asking no questions. Trusting him." A sob escaped from her throat. "Oh, Tonks, if Arthur had died...I don't know if I could ever have forgiven Albus for it."
Tonks remembered the last time she'd seen Remus Lupin, that summer night four months ago when they'd escorted Harry from Privet Drive to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He'd been as kind as ever, even laughed appreciatively at her scheme to lure Harry's awful aunt and uncle away with a fictitious award for the All -England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. But his face was lined, his hair had so much more grey in it, and his clothes had been shabbier than ever. And all of it had only made him dearer to her. She tried to picture a world without him, to think of him as an absence instead of the constant presence he'd begun to be to her. And if they had had twenty years together, children... "I don't blame you a bit," she said firmly. "He's a scheming old arse, that man."
Molly stared at her, mouth open in surprise, and then her lips curved in a shaky smile. "I don't know anyone else I could have said that to," she admitted. "Thank you for that."
"Here, you can say it right to his face," Tonks grinned. Holding her breath in concentration, she made her hair go long and silver, puffed out two enormous bushy eyebrows and a flowing beard, and said in a passable imitation of Dumbledore's sonorous tones, "Dark times lie ahead of us, Molly, but we must always remember to file our knitting patterns correctly..."
Molly dissolved into gales of laughter. "Scheming old arse," she managed to gasp, and then Tonks waggled her eyebrows and she was off again, tears of glee rolling down her cheeks. "Stop, stop," she begged, gasping. "I can't take it any more…"
--&&--
Christmas, 1996
Molly had never seen as woebegone a sight as Tonks standing there on the doorstep. It wasn't raining at the Burrow, but it evidently had been wherever Tonks had come from. Water dripped from the tip of her nose and flattened her hair, which was a mousy, nondescript brown, into lank ribbons. Even Ginny, after her terrible experience in the Chamber of Secrets, Molly thought, had not looked quite so despairing.
"My dear, do come in! Whatever is wrong?" Sudden fear clutched at her then, remembering other desperate visitors in the night. "It's not...no one's been...well, it's not You-Know-Who, is it?"
Tonks' eyes widened. "Oh no, Molly, of course not, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." She waved one hand helplessly. "It's me. I just..." She sniffled miserably.
Molly let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. "Well, then," she said briskly, "whatever it is, it can't be that bad." She took the younger woman's arm and drew her into the kitchen. "Tea?"
Tonks shrugged dispiritedly and dropped into a chair.
Molly gave her a penetrating look. "And something a little stronger, I think." She took a bottle of Wild Manticore from the pantry and sloshed a healthy amount into two mugs, then topped them off with steaming tea. She plunked one down in front of her friend. "Now, talk."
Tonks sniffled again, her eyes red-rimmed and tired. "It's too pathetic and stupid. I can't."
"Of course you can." Molly fished a hanky from a pile of clean laundry in the basket beside her and handed it to her friend. "Is it work?"
Tonks accepted the proffered hanky and blew her nose. "No, work is fine. I mean, well, not fine, everyone's worried about You-Know-Who, wondering what he'll do next." She raised her head and met Molly's eyes. "Was it like this last time, Molly?" she asked hesitantly. "This horrible waiting for something -- anything -- to happen?"
Molly was silent for a long moment, remembering. "Yes," she said finally. "At least, it was for most of us. I don't know what it was like in the Auror Corps. They knew more than the rest of us. I don't know if that made it better or worse."
"The things we've seen lately..." Tonks took a swallow of the whisky-laden tea, her eyes haunted, looking at something visible only in her mind's eye.
"Frank and Alice Longbottom," Molly said softly. "Benjy Fenwick. Marlene McKinnon and her family." Gideon, she thought. Fabian. Oh, how I miss you both... "We've all seen terrible, terrible things, Tonks."
Tonks reached out and took Molly's hand. "I'm sorry, Molly, I shouldn't be talking like this." She glanced at the clock, four of whose hands were pointing to Mortal Peril. "You have enough to worry about."
"True." Pointless to dwell on old nightmares; no doubt there would be new ones to replace them, if things went the way they looked at the moment. "We've enough to do facing the bad times we have now; there's no point in dredging up bad times from the past as well. As my granddad used to say, ‘Never trouble trouble until trouble turns up at your door dressed as an eight-foot Bludger with a bad attitude.'"
A snort of laughter escaped Tonks despite her evident woes. "I don't believe you. Did he really say that?"
"There, I knew that'd get a laugh out of you," Molly said triumphantly. "Now, what is it that's got you so down?"
The younger woman dropped her eyes to her mug, turning it slowly round and round. "It's nothing."
"Nothing, my foot. I got a very cryptic note from your mother this morning, so come clean."
Tonks looked uneasy. "A note? What did it say?"
Molly reached into her pocket and drew out a small piece of parchment. "'Dear Molly,'" she read. "'You're supposed to be her friend, for Circe's sake talk some sense into her. Bill's home for the summer, isn't he? Maybe that will distract her.'"
"Bill?" Tonks sounded scandalized. "She's not matchmaking me and Bill?!"
"Well, you know I had hopes too," Molly admitted candidly, putting the note back in her pocket. "I never exactly made a secret of it."
Tonks squinted her eyes in concentration. Her nose grew excessively small and pointed, her hair lengthened to her waist and went a golden blonde, her eyes gleamed an unnaturally bright sapphire blue. Her expression became supercilious and vaguely cow-like. "I sink Bill would prefer ziss more zan anysing else in ze world," she said, batting outrageously long eyelashes.
Molly smacked her arm. "Now stop that. I know Phlegm--"
"Fleur!" Tonks admonished, lapsing back into her original state with a smile.
"I really must stop Ginny calling her that," Molly muttered, her face bright red. "I know Fleur is a perfectly nice person," she went on, "but you and Bill were such good friends when you were at Hogwarts together. I'll never forget the first time he brought you home for a visit. You made yourself look like all the members of the Muggle Royal Family, one after another. I thought I'd die laughing when you got to that one with the ears!"
"Friends being the key word," Tonks pointed out. Her momentary good humour vanished as quickly as it had come, and she scrubbed at her eyes. "He doesn't even want to be friends."
Molly narrowed her eyes. "If Bill's been unkind to you, I'll snatch him bald-headed!" she said sharply. "Those scars he's got will be nothing to what I'll do to him!"
Tonks flushed. "No, I meant Remus."
"Remus? What about Remus?"
"I...I love him, Molly." Her eyes filled with tears. "And he won't even talk to me!"
"Love him?" Molly stared at her friend. Remus' affliction had made his life so terribly difficult; she couldn't help but quail at the thought of what such a life would mean for her friend. She groped for something comforting to say, but even her good-natured optimism failed her for the moment. "Does he...does he know how you feel?"
"Oh, yes," Tonks said glumly. "That's the problem. I told him, one night a couple of months ago. I said I'd buy him dinner -- you know how he always looks like he's not getting enough to eat -- and somewhere between the shepherd's pie and the custard tart I blurted out, ‘Lupin, I love you.'"
Molly smothered a smile at the thought of diffident, reserved Remus Lupin confronted with the irrepressible Tonks and her bubble-gum pink hair. Well, maybe they were perfect for each other after all. "What did he say, dear?"
"Well, after he finished nearly choking on his tart, he told me all the reasons it would never work."
Molly tsked. "Silly man. What reasons?"
Tonks took a deep breath. "Well, in ascending order of importance: he's got no job at the moment, no prospects of a job in the future, and no money so no way to support a family, he's got no permanent home so nowhere to live, Greyback's actively hunting him so anyone around him is in danger, and he's in the Order of the Phoenix so he could be killed any minute." She took a swallow of tea. "Oh, and he's a werewolf. Mustn't forget that one."
"That's quite a list," Molly agreed. "I assume you argued with him?"
Tonks' hair took on a slight greenish tinge and her eyebrows darkened. "I told him he was an idiot, among other things. Short-sighted, selfish, and a pain in the arse as well. He just gave me those sad puppy-dog eyes, and he's hardly said two words to me since." She drained her mug and held it out. "Got any more of that whisky, Molly?"
"Oh, that stupid, stupid man," Molly said angrily, rising and shoving back her chair with a jerk. She refilled both their mugs with tea and Wild Manticore and thumped them down on the table. "Idiotic fool, with his ridiculous ideas of nobility and his condescending attitude. Treating you like a child who needs to be protected, why, I have half a mind to--"
"Don't you criticise him," Tonks retorted with magnificent illogic, her hair flaming a bright turquoise. "It's because he loves me! He's the kindest man I know!"
Molly's face softened. "I know, I know. He's got a good heart, poor man. But he's spent his whole life hiding, afraid that people will find out...well, you know."
"Of course! And it's not just the Wizarding world!" Tonks stood up and began to pace the kitchen, mug in one hand, the other rumpling her hair. "The Muggle world hates wolves too. When I was little, my dad used to read me Muggle fairy tales, like Beedle the Bard, only instead of The Tale of the Three Brothers we had the Three Little Pigs."
"Pigs?" Molly said, startled. "Why would anyone tell a story about pigs?"
Tonks waved the hand holding the mug impatiently and an arc of tea slopped onto the floor with a wet splat. "I don't know. The point is, this big bad wolf comes along and tries to eat these pigs, only he fails, because the pigs outsmart him. So not only is the wolf vicious, he's stupid. And don't even get me started on Little Red Riding Hood!"
Molly Vanished the puddle of tea. "Riding Littlehood? Who's she?"
"Little Red Riding Hood. She has to go through the forest to take her sick grandmother something, I forget what, so she puts on this beautiful red hood and cloak. The wolf is obsessed with her and follows her--"
"The same wolf that tried to eat the pigs?"
"No, a different one. Anyway, he follows her through the woods, trying to get her to talk to him. Finally he decides the only way he'll get her is to trick her, so he eats her grandmother, puts on the old lady's clothes, and climbs into her bed to wait for Little Red Riding Hood. When she gets there, he eats her, but then a woodcutter comes in and cuts the wolf open and she climbs out, neat as you please."
"I suppose it was the Muggles' way of teaching their children not to wander about in the woods," Molly said doubtfully. "Though telling them they'll get eaten seems a bit extreme. But then why suggest they can just pop out of its stomach afterwards?" She frowned, puzzled.
"It is odd, isn't it?" Tonks said, pausing a moment. "I asked Hermione once, and she said the story's actually all about sex. Which doesn't make any sense, either. But the point is," she resumed her circuit of the room, "the wolf is the villain again. And he's stupid to boot. Again." She turned pained eyes on her friend. "How do we fight that kind of prejudice, Molly? When it's even taught to Muggle children in their fairy tales?"
"Tonks," Molly said gently, "if you're going to love him, do it with open eyes. It's not the wolf itself that frightens people. It's the were- part. He --"
Tonks' eyes flashed. "I never thought I'd hear that from you of all people, Molly!' she said with some heat. "You're the last person I thought would be prejudiced against him!"
"I'm not!" Molly retorted, stung. "Remus Lupin is a good and gentle man with a kind heart, and I love him dearly. Last summer, that boggart in the wardrobe at Number 12…" She shivered at the memory, the vision of the dead bodies of her husband, her sons. "Well, he helped me that night and never said a word to Arthur about it, knowing how it would worry him."
"Then why--"
"Because you can't pretend that there's no danger!" Molly cried. "Don't you see? As long as he thinks you're not seeing him clearly, he'll keep pushing you away. He'll think you haven't thought it through, that your love has blinded you to the problems the two of you will face. Not just from your parents, but from a lot of other witches and wizards too."
Tonks opened her mouth, then closed it and sat in silence for a long moment. "You're saying that he doesn't believe I'd stay with him," she said finally. "He thinks I'll give up on him."
Molly smiled sadly. "Oh, no, dear. I'm saying he doesn't believe he's worth the heartache he will cause you. It's not you he's doubting. It's himself." She paused a moment, then muttered, "Stupid man."
"If only he'd talk to me," Tonks mourned. "He avoids me, and when we do accidentally run into each other, he just...he just looks at me, and backs away."
Molly's lips twitched. "Have you tried dressing up as Little Red Riding Hood? He might find that irresistible."
Tonks' snorted, her hair went blood red from scalp to tip, and a moment later both women were howling with laughter. They laughed until they were nearly helpless, slumped in their chairs and chortling like maniacs, panting from lack of breath and holding their sides in pain.
At last their fit of hilarity began to fade. Molly wiped her eyes as a last stray giggle escaped.
Tonks looked almost cheerful again, then her face fell slightly. "But really, Molly, what am I going to do? Mum and Dad are horrified at the idea. Mum more than Dad, because she's seen what happens when...when someone...well, when someone changes...but Dad's just as opposed to it."
Molly narrowed her eyes. "You listen to me, Nymphadora Tonks," she said. "You love this man, and he loves you. You marry him, and marry him quick. There's no knowing how much time any of us have, especially now. And none of it should be wasted on what-if's."
Tonks leaned across the table and gave Molly a warm hug. "Thanks, Molly. I knew you'd be on my side. But I've still got to convince Remus," she added sadly.
Molly scowled. "Just give me two minutes with him, I'll sort him out."
Suddenly there came a knock at the door, startling them both. Molly pulled her worn green dressing gown tight around her and went to the door. "Who's there?" she said sharply. "Declare yourself!"
"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry."
"Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!" she said, opening the door wide.
"We were lucky," said Dumbledore, ushering Harry across the threshold. "Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Harry's doing, of course." He turned his eyes to the young woman at the table. "Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"
"Hello, Professor," she said. "Wotcher, Harry." She glanced at Molly, then rose. "I'd better be off. Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."
"Please, don't leave on my account," Dumbledore said courteously. "I cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour."
"No, no, I need to get going," said Tonks. She gave a lopsided smile. "Night --"
"Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend?" Molly interrupted. "Remus and Mad-Eye are coming."
"No, really, Molly. Thanks anyway. Good night, everyone." Tonks hurried past Dumbledore and Harry into the yard; a few paces beyond the doorstep, she turned on the spot and vanished into thin air. Molly sighed and gazed after her, worry and concern plain on her face, then turned to Harry. "Well, dear, come in..."
--&&--
July, 1997
Tonks draped the dress over the back of the dilapidate sofa in the Burrow's living room. "Well, what do you think?" she asked anxiously. "Nice enough, but not too nice?"
Andromeda had wanted white, or at least cream, but Tonks had stood firm and the calf-length dress was of deep blue velvet. The hem and the square neckline were edged with silver embroidery that formed a line of running wolves.
"Beautiful, dear." Molly ran her hand down the soft nap of the velvet. "How does Lupin feel about the trim?"
Tonks laughed. "He said if I was determined to marry a werewolf, there was no sense in being shy about it."
"Thank goodness he's come to his senses," Molly said with a grin. "Now, what about your hair? What will you do with it?"
"I was thinking a lighter blue, with dark blue highlights. And silver tips, to match the trim." She bit her lip. "Too much, do you think? I know it's just a small wedding, but I still want it to be special."
Molly smiled warmly. "That sounds lovely, dear. Just perfect." She picked up the dress and hung it on a hook on the back of the door, stepping back to admire it.
"Oh, good." Tonks flopped down on the sofa at full-length, making the lamp on the side table wobble dangerously. "Thanks for standing with me tomorrow, Molly," she added shyly. "It...well, it means a lot to me."
"Of course I would! Was there ever any doubt?"
"It'll be nice to have one person there who's truly happy for us." Tonks recalled her father's pained acceptance, her mother's fretful worry. "Mum and Dad aren't exactly thrilled."
"They're worried about you, that's all," Molly said. "Occupational hazard of being a parent. We always want our children's paths through life to be strewn with roses. Luckily, you're not my daughter -- you're my friend. That means I have the luxury of being entirely happy for you when you marry not only the man you love, but a good man and a brave one as well."
Tonks glanced at the clock, all of whose hands were pointing to Mortal Peril. ""How do you do it, Molly? How do you let your children go, day after day, never knowing if they'll come home? Aren't you afraid for them? Charlie, Bill, Ginny?"
Molly sighed. "It isn't easy, I admit. Having a child is...well, it's to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. No matter where they go or what they do, a piece of you will be out there wandering the world with them."
Tonks grimaced. Loving Remus, worrying about him, that was hard enough. To have children as well was beyond imagining. "To be honest, it sounds terrifying."
"Oh, it is," Molly laughed. "But it's also the most amazing thing you can imagine. It's like…do you know what a Horcrux is?"
Tonks blanched. "Merlin, yes. Where did you hear about them? They're not exactly common knowledge."
Molly shrugged. "Oh, I don't remember now. Probably some Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Anyway, having a child is like an anti-Horcrux. Instead of splitting your soul through violence, you multiply it through love."
"Well, that certainly makes it sound more appealing." Tonks rolled over onto her side and stared into space. "But Molly..."
"If you're worried about the actual process," Molly went on, "I can assure you that it's worth it."
Tonks made a face. "It's not that." She hesitated, unwilling to confess her deepest fear even to her closest friend. "It's...well, what if our children, Remus' and mine...what if there's something wrong with them?"
Molly sighed. "Oh my dear, there are never any guarantees. Shall I tell you something I've never told anyone, not even Arthur?" She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I was terrified that our children would be Squibs."
"What?" Tonks was shocked. "With you and Arthur as their parents?"
"Oh, but I was. Squibs can happen in any family."
"But after you had Bill, and he was fine, that must have helped, right?"
Molly shook her head slowly, remembering. "Not in the least. Every single time, I was afraid. Not for myself, you know, but for them. It would have been hard for me to see them denied something that's so much a part of all our lives."
Tonks thought of Argus Filch, and of something Dumbledore had said once, about Lily Potter's sister, Petunia. "Do you think it's harder to be a Squib than it is to be the brother or sister of a Muggle-born?" she wondered aloud.
"I don't know. It's hard for me to imagine a parent not loving any child, no matter what their abilities. If any of mine had been Squibs I would have loved them anyway, maybe even loved them more for their difference. And that's really the point: it doesn't matter what they're like. You'll love because they're yours and his, together. And for themselves."
"Even if what they are is all wolf?" Tonks asked softly. She thought of Greyback and shuddered convulsively.
Molly made an exclamation of surprise. "But that's impossible! Lycanthropy's passed on by biting people, it's not inherited!"
"I know. So does Remus. But he can't stop worrying about it." She sighed. "And werewolves can pass on their wolf traits under certain conditions, so there must be some part of it that's inherited. Inheritable. Whatever."
Molly frowned. "I never heard that. What conditions?"
"If two werewolves mate during the full moon, their offspring will be pure wolf. Or almost pure -- they tend to be very smart wolves, and not at all aggressive towards humans. Dumbledore offered to find a home for a litter of them once," she added. "That's where the stories of werewolves in the Forbidden Forest came from, didn't you know?"
"No, I didn't," Molly said. "But it doesn't matter," she went on firmly. "Unless there's some secret you've been keeping from all of us, it doesn't sound like you have anything to worry about."
For a moment Tonks looked into the grim future of her nightmares, feral children without a speck of humanity. Would saying it aloud make it more frightening, or less? "Sometimes I have nightmares about it," she admitted finally. "And I can't talk to Remus about it, he's already worried enough. He'll think it means we shouldn't have kids. And I want to have kids, Molly," she said fiercely. "I want it more than anything."
Molly raised her eyebrows. "Well, yes, but not right away, surely?" she said hesitantly. "I mean, things are so unsettled now what with You-Know-Who. Do you really want to have children in the middle of a war?"
"There was a war going on when you and Arthur got married," Tonks pointed out. "And you didn't wait."
"True. But still, you've got your work as Auror, and on top of that there's all you do for the Order of the Phoenix."
"Actually--" Tonks broke off abruptly. "Hold on a minute." She got up and went into the kitchen, glanced around briefly, then stuck her head out into the hall to look up the staircase. Seeing no one, she came back into the room and returned to her seat on the couch.
"Whatever are you doing?" Molly asked, watching her curiously.
"Making sure no one's listening. Don't forget I've seen the twins' Extendable Ears," Tonks said with a lopsided grin. "Molly, what would you say if I told you there won't be any Auror work for me before long?"
Molly's eyebrows went up in surprise. "You're not thinking of leaving the Auror corps, surely? I didn't mean to suggest that you should, that you had to choose between that and having a baby."
"No. But there won't be much Ministry work for any of us soon." Tonks took a deep breath. "In fact, we're pretty sure there won't be much of a Ministry soon."
"What in Hecate's name do you mean?" Molly said sharply. "I know things aren't going well -- I may not officially be an Order member, still I can't help but know that. And Arthur's been worried sick lately, that's obvious, but he asked me please not to press him about it, so I haven't..."
"You-Know-Who is putting a lot of effort into taking over the Ministry," Tonks went on in a low voice. "We know of two Ministry officials under the Imperius curse. There are probably more. Scrimgeour sleeps in a different place every night, with his wand under his pillow, but even he thinks it's only a matter of time."
Molly stared at Tonks, her face under its flaming hair gone suddenly white as paper. "What are you saying?" she whispered. "Tonks, what are you saying?"
Tonks' hair had gone a dead black, as had her eyes. "The Ministry will fall," she said quietly. "And then it will just be the Order. And whoever is willing to stay on at the Ministry while secretly opposing them."
"People like Arthur," Molly guessed. "No wonder he didn't tell me, the silly old fool." She stood up and began to pace the room angrily.
"The Order wouldn't ask it of him, but I'm sure he'll volunteer," Tonks admitted, not meeting her friend's eyes.
"Oh, that man!" Molly's eyes narrowed and her lips set in a grim line. "Wanting to be a hero at his age, and with seven children!"
Tonks raised her head abruptly and her eyes were a bright, snapping blue. "You think once someone has kids, they should stop putting themselves in danger?" she demanded.
"I think I'd like him to see his first grandchild," Molly shot back angrily.
Tonks jumped to her feet. "You want him to stop doing what's right and just do what's easy?" she challenged. "I know you, Molly. I don't believe that for a minute."
Molly's eyes filled with tears. "I want the people I love to be safe," she whispered. "That includes you, by the way. Silly girl."
At the unmistakable tone of affection, Tonks half-smiled despite the lump in her throat. "Oh, Molly, if we don't all do everything we can, none of us will be safe. You know that as well as I do."
"All the more reason for you and Remus to wait," the older woman said with a sniff, circling back to their original discussion. "You'll be busy fighting, running all over England, probably getting hexed to within an inch of your life."
"No. All the more reason for us to have a child now. Before it's too late. And besides," Tonks reminded her gently, "love is the best way to fight You-Know-Who. You told me that, remember? You said your way of fighting him, and people who thought like him, was to have as many children as possible and raise them to believe every life is valuable, whether Muggle or Wizard."
Molly threw up her hands in surrender. "Caught by my own fancy words," she admitted. "Well, at least promise me you'll be as careful as you can. I do love you, you know."
"As careful as I can," Tonks said. "I promise. And if anything happens --"
"Shush," Molly interrupted, giving her a quick hug. "Time enough to worry about that later. Tonight, we've got a wedding to finish planning. And let's talk about baby names, shall we? It never hurts to plan these things out well in advance."
--&&--
May 1998 / Sep 2017
Forever after, there would be blank spaces in Molly's memories of that terrible May day. The name of the person who had told her Fred was dead, for example. She was glad not to remember that, because she wasn't sure she would ever have been able to forgive the person who broke her heart for the second time that day.
But she remembered very clearly who broke it the first time.
From across the Great Hall, amid the chaos of spells and shouts and screams, she had seen Tonks at the foot of the stairs facing Bellatrix on the step above her. Bellatrix was shrieking with glee, Tonks grimly silent, each of them so focused on the other that their wands were nothing but blurs.
As careful as I can, Molly, I promise...
And then Tonks stumbled, and Bellatrix raised her wand, a mad grin on her face, and there was a flash of light and Tonks crumpled and fell, and it was as if all the sounds of battle were suddenly cut off except for Bellatrix's shriek of triumph which sliced into Molly's heart like a knife.
Then Bellatrix had turned on Ginny, and in Molly's mind was suddenly nothing but a red, red rage and a furious determination: Bellatrix had taken her best friend; she would not take her daughter as well...
Molly had other friends over the years, good friends, new ones as well as old. Friends she liked and trusted, laughed and cried with. But no one could take Tonks' place, so when Ginny, laughing, told her what James had said just before he and Albus boarded the Hogwarts Express for Albus' first year at school ("Our Teddy! Teddy Lupin! Snogging our Victoire!") she felt comforted. She was sure that somehow, somewhere, Tonks was smiling.
-- Finis --