Stake Your Place by Starsea
Title: Stake Your Place
Author: sea_thoughts aka Starsea
Ratings & Warnings: PG, Angst
Prompt: Camping
Word Count: 1,786
Summary: Remus is good at camping. Maybe too good.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to the fabulous godricgal for coming through when I needed it most and to the amazing shimotsuki for beta'ing this at the last minute. You both rock and I owe you!
Killhope Mine is a real place (I couldn't make that name up). It's set in the North Pennines in the middle of County Durham and is the most complete lead mine existing in the British Isles. It's also haunted. All the paranormal investigators who have visited there have come away without spending a full night.
"Remus?"
"Yes?"
"Are you awake?"
"No."
Tonks sat up, rubbing the back of her neck, and tried to light the lamp. A crash told her she'd managed to knock over her mug of cocoa (laced with a tot of rum to warm her up and help her sleep). Still, the lamp was now lit and she could see Remus's face. His eyes were wide open and staring at the ceiling. They were in Moody's tent, used on the understanding that she would not rip or burn it down while living inside it. Despite the rather odd smell from the canvas (probably some special resin he'd acquired from the West Indies to scare off both insects and humans), it was quite cosy, with two comfortable camp beds, a functioning stove and a cupboard filled with tins of sardines and baked beans if you needed a midnight snack. It looked like a midnight snack was in order right now.
"What are you worrying about?" she asked casually, opening a tin of baked beans and tipping it into a small saucepan. She set the spoon to stirring, one of the few household spells she'd had no trouble mastering, and then realised she hadn't lit the stove. Bugger. She flicked her wand and nothing happened. Double bugger.
"It's stupid..." he said, also sitting up and capably lighting the stove without even needing to be asked.
"How do you do that?" she exclaimed, frustrated and fascinated at the same time.
"I've done a lot of camping in my time," he said, self-effacing, but there was a glint in his eyes that told her there was more to that sentence than simple camping experience.
"I could light any fiddly little camping stove but a normal one, oh no, that's way too difficult," she said, glaring at the stove, which continued to cook the baked beans.
"It belongs to Moody, it's probably temperamental," Remus said with a shrug, sitting back down on his bed, which creaked in response.
"Speaking of which..." Tonks raised both eyebrows at him, then realised they were still green from the night before, when she'd been trying to blend in with the trees.
They'd been on a mission at Killhope Mine, a site where Death Eaters had experimented with Squibs during the first war. There hadn't been any evidence of current activity but they had found... remains from the previous usage. Not nice. Now they were somewhere on the Yorkshire Dales, taking a weekend to recover and relax. She concentrated for a moment, the rush came and went, and she sat down to face him, comfortable in the knowledge she was pink again.
"Are you calling me temperamental?" he asked quietly.
"You've been very quiet recently and it's nothing to do with the moon. We talked about this. If you're upset, you have to tell me."
"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" he asked with a smile.
She refused to let the smile distract her and pointed a finger at him. "Avoiding the question, Mr Lupin."
He looked down, coughed. Tonks gripped the edge of the bed, which was very hard even through the bedsheet and the three blankets, and waited.
"Your parents don't like me," he said, so quietly she could barely hear him.
Tonks stared at the head in front of her, mixed grey and brown. It always evoked a tender feeling in her heart and she wanted to run her fingers through the hair, which was still soft and thick despite the colour, but now was not the time to soothe him and give him a hug.
"WHAT?"
"They don't like me, Dora. I can tell. Your mother could barely look at me and your father... well, I don't suppose any father would be pleased that their daughter was going out with a werewolf."
The rush of anger startled her. "My dad doesn't give a damn that you're a werewolf, Remus, you're just using that as... some kind of shield! And as for Mum... yeah, I admit that maybe she might be a bit prejudiced. It was hard for her when I was Sorted into Hufflepuff and you don't want to know about some of the arguments we've had... But she won't be prejudiced once she gets to know you! She just needs the opportunity, and she won't get that if you retreat into your shell and let this illness be the only thing she knows!" She grabbed the spoon from the saucepan rather than point her wand, carved two slices of bread from the loaf and poured the baked beans over the slices, breathing through her nose. She shouldn't get angry. It was understandable that he'd be insecure about this.
He hadn't said anything since her outburst. That was Remus all over. Wait for the storm to pass, for the silence to settle again. It was why he'd been so good with Sirius. Grief bit her at the thought and she had to stop what she was doing for a moment. Sirius's death was always at the back of her mind and his. They were still coming to terms with his absence and it was worse for him than for her.
"Here." He gave her a fork and took one for himself.
She swallowed. "Sorry... shouldn't have..."
"It's okay."
"No, I asked you what was wrong and you told me and I just bit your head off, hardly encouraging." She laughed shakily. "I just... why do you always assume it's because you're a werewolf? Maybe my dad's always a bit off with my boyfriend BECAUSE he's my boyfriend? Maybe he doesn't like the fact you're a bit older - a BIT older than me - and he can't tell himself this is just a silly fling. Maybe he wonders why a chatterbox like me is going out with someone quiet - you WERE quiet, Remus, you barely said a word." She stabbed a piece of bread and chewed on it for a moment. "Loads of reasons. Not because you're a werewolf."
He smiled a little bit but she cherished that smile. "Okay."
"And if it's a problem, you're good at camping, you can just camp out on the lawn until they give in," she said with a wink.
"Or pack up quickly if they get mad," he suggested. "I'm good at packing."
"You'd better pack me with you," she told him.
"Deal."
* * *
"Where are you going?"
His room was almost bare. Everything was in boxes, labelled with his name. All the new clothes, all the things they'd bought for the flat they were going to share... everything. Packed up. And that case was back, the old battered case with his initials that said "pay no attention to me, just passing through". Dread settled in her stomach.
"Dumbledore's sending me on a mission."
"Oh really. A mission." Tonks folded her arms and stood in the doorway, staring at him. "How come you didn't mention this before?"
"He only just told me..." He was flipping through a book, running his thumb over the moving pages. Anxious. "I have to go right away."
"So what is this? A moonlight flit? Oh wait, you can't go by moonlight, can you?" Oh God, that was cheap, but so was his behaviour. He was better than this; she deserved more than this. "Were you going to tell me? Actually, don't answer, what a stupid question." She swept the room with her gaze and looked at him again. He looked sick and pale, shrunken inside himself. She could feel herself being her mother's daughter and hated herself for it, hated him for calling out the Black in her.
"Please don't make this more difficult than it is," he said, his voice strained with the effort to be calm. He stopped flipping the pages and put the book on the mantelpiece.
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I making this difficult? Please forgive me. Maybe I'd be a little more supportive if I hadn't just found my boyfriend about to disappear from the house without even leaving me a note about what he was doing or where he was going!"
Stop it, she wailed at herself. Just stop, please stop, you're making it worse and you know it!
He took a deep breath. "You don't want to know what I'm doing and where I'm going."
"I believe I just said that I do want to know," she replied, her voice becoming colder as the rage grew inside her. Always, the Black blood came out at the worst of times.
He picked up the case. She could see his fingers tightening and relaxing around the handle as he debated what to say. She hated him for being so calm and hated herself for pushing him away. She hated Dumbledore for creating this situation in the first place. His back straightened and he looked at her. He'd decided.
"I'm going to the werewolves," he said. "I'm going to Fenrir. There. Happy?"
Tonks couldn't speak. The werewolves. Fenrir. The werewolves. Fenrir. The werewolves Fenrir. ThewerewolvesFenrir. The two phrases ran round and round in her brain until they collided in a sickening crash of fear and sick apprehension. But she was an Auror and she'd been trained to deal with these emotions. She took a deep breath. "That still doesn't explain why you were going to leave without a word," she said, and was pleased to hear how strong her voice sounded.
"Oh Tonks!" The name which she loved sounded odd and harsh upon his lips. "Can't you see? I can't be in contact with any human while I live with them. They would smell you upon me. They would come after you! I can't take that risk!"
If she hadn't known that he was leaving, these words would have thrilled her, but as it was, they only turned the dread into a creeping despair. He still loved her but he was leaving anyway. "So you were running away," she said, calm now as he became agitated. "Disappearing from my life."
Remus looked away. "I told you I was good at packing."
"The deal was that you pack me! Remember?"
The agony in his eyes told her that he did. "I'm sorry," he said, and then there was only space and a soft pop as he Disapparated.
Tonks looked at the boxes, all sealed neatly and stacked in the corner. That was Remus. Packing everything away, including his heart. Well, she wouldn't make it easy for him. If he thought she was going to give up, he really should know her better. She took out her wand and began to open the first box.
"Looks like it's me camping out on the lawn," she murmured.
Author: sea_thoughts aka Starsea
Ratings & Warnings: PG, Angst
Prompt: Camping
Word Count: 1,786
Summary: Remus is good at camping. Maybe too good.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to the fabulous godricgal for coming through when I needed it most and to the amazing shimotsuki for beta'ing this at the last minute. You both rock and I owe you!
Killhope Mine is a real place (I couldn't make that name up). It's set in the North Pennines in the middle of County Durham and is the most complete lead mine existing in the British Isles. It's also haunted. All the paranormal investigators who have visited there have come away without spending a full night.
"Remus?"
"Yes?"
"Are you awake?"
"No."
Tonks sat up, rubbing the back of her neck, and tried to light the lamp. A crash told her she'd managed to knock over her mug of cocoa (laced with a tot of rum to warm her up and help her sleep). Still, the lamp was now lit and she could see Remus's face. His eyes were wide open and staring at the ceiling. They were in Moody's tent, used on the understanding that she would not rip or burn it down while living inside it. Despite the rather odd smell from the canvas (probably some special resin he'd acquired from the West Indies to scare off both insects and humans), it was quite cosy, with two comfortable camp beds, a functioning stove and a cupboard filled with tins of sardines and baked beans if you needed a midnight snack. It looked like a midnight snack was in order right now.
"What are you worrying about?" she asked casually, opening a tin of baked beans and tipping it into a small saucepan. She set the spoon to stirring, one of the few household spells she'd had no trouble mastering, and then realised she hadn't lit the stove. Bugger. She flicked her wand and nothing happened. Double bugger.
"It's stupid..." he said, also sitting up and capably lighting the stove without even needing to be asked.
"How do you do that?" she exclaimed, frustrated and fascinated at the same time.
"I've done a lot of camping in my time," he said, self-effacing, but there was a glint in his eyes that told her there was more to that sentence than simple camping experience.
"I could light any fiddly little camping stove but a normal one, oh no, that's way too difficult," she said, glaring at the stove, which continued to cook the baked beans.
"It belongs to Moody, it's probably temperamental," Remus said with a shrug, sitting back down on his bed, which creaked in response.
"Speaking of which..." Tonks raised both eyebrows at him, then realised they were still green from the night before, when she'd been trying to blend in with the trees.
They'd been on a mission at Killhope Mine, a site where Death Eaters had experimented with Squibs during the first war. There hadn't been any evidence of current activity but they had found... remains from the previous usage. Not nice. Now they were somewhere on the Yorkshire Dales, taking a weekend to recover and relax. She concentrated for a moment, the rush came and went, and she sat down to face him, comfortable in the knowledge she was pink again.
"Are you calling me temperamental?" he asked quietly.
"You've been very quiet recently and it's nothing to do with the moon. We talked about this. If you're upset, you have to tell me."
"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" he asked with a smile.
She refused to let the smile distract her and pointed a finger at him. "Avoiding the question, Mr Lupin."
He looked down, coughed. Tonks gripped the edge of the bed, which was very hard even through the bedsheet and the three blankets, and waited.
"Your parents don't like me," he said, so quietly she could barely hear him.
Tonks stared at the head in front of her, mixed grey and brown. It always evoked a tender feeling in her heart and she wanted to run her fingers through the hair, which was still soft and thick despite the colour, but now was not the time to soothe him and give him a hug.
"WHAT?"
"They don't like me, Dora. I can tell. Your mother could barely look at me and your father... well, I don't suppose any father would be pleased that their daughter was going out with a werewolf."
The rush of anger startled her. "My dad doesn't give a damn that you're a werewolf, Remus, you're just using that as... some kind of shield! And as for Mum... yeah, I admit that maybe she might be a bit prejudiced. It was hard for her when I was Sorted into Hufflepuff and you don't want to know about some of the arguments we've had... But she won't be prejudiced once she gets to know you! She just needs the opportunity, and she won't get that if you retreat into your shell and let this illness be the only thing she knows!" She grabbed the spoon from the saucepan rather than point her wand, carved two slices of bread from the loaf and poured the baked beans over the slices, breathing through her nose. She shouldn't get angry. It was understandable that he'd be insecure about this.
He hadn't said anything since her outburst. That was Remus all over. Wait for the storm to pass, for the silence to settle again. It was why he'd been so good with Sirius. Grief bit her at the thought and she had to stop what she was doing for a moment. Sirius's death was always at the back of her mind and his. They were still coming to terms with his absence and it was worse for him than for her.
"Here." He gave her a fork and took one for himself.
She swallowed. "Sorry... shouldn't have..."
"It's okay."
"No, I asked you what was wrong and you told me and I just bit your head off, hardly encouraging." She laughed shakily. "I just... why do you always assume it's because you're a werewolf? Maybe my dad's always a bit off with my boyfriend BECAUSE he's my boyfriend? Maybe he doesn't like the fact you're a bit older - a BIT older than me - and he can't tell himself this is just a silly fling. Maybe he wonders why a chatterbox like me is going out with someone quiet - you WERE quiet, Remus, you barely said a word." She stabbed a piece of bread and chewed on it for a moment. "Loads of reasons. Not because you're a werewolf."
He smiled a little bit but she cherished that smile. "Okay."
"And if it's a problem, you're good at camping, you can just camp out on the lawn until they give in," she said with a wink.
"Or pack up quickly if they get mad," he suggested. "I'm good at packing."
"You'd better pack me with you," she told him.
"Deal."
* * *
"Where are you going?"
His room was almost bare. Everything was in boxes, labelled with his name. All the new clothes, all the things they'd bought for the flat they were going to share... everything. Packed up. And that case was back, the old battered case with his initials that said "pay no attention to me, just passing through". Dread settled in her stomach.
"Dumbledore's sending me on a mission."
"Oh really. A mission." Tonks folded her arms and stood in the doorway, staring at him. "How come you didn't mention this before?"
"He only just told me..." He was flipping through a book, running his thumb over the moving pages. Anxious. "I have to go right away."
"So what is this? A moonlight flit? Oh wait, you can't go by moonlight, can you?" Oh God, that was cheap, but so was his behaviour. He was better than this; she deserved more than this. "Were you going to tell me? Actually, don't answer, what a stupid question." She swept the room with her gaze and looked at him again. He looked sick and pale, shrunken inside himself. She could feel herself being her mother's daughter and hated herself for it, hated him for calling out the Black in her.
"Please don't make this more difficult than it is," he said, his voice strained with the effort to be calm. He stopped flipping the pages and put the book on the mantelpiece.
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I making this difficult? Please forgive me. Maybe I'd be a little more supportive if I hadn't just found my boyfriend about to disappear from the house without even leaving me a note about what he was doing or where he was going!"
Stop it, she wailed at herself. Just stop, please stop, you're making it worse and you know it!
He took a deep breath. "You don't want to know what I'm doing and where I'm going."
"I believe I just said that I do want to know," she replied, her voice becoming colder as the rage grew inside her. Always, the Black blood came out at the worst of times.
He picked up the case. She could see his fingers tightening and relaxing around the handle as he debated what to say. She hated him for being so calm and hated herself for pushing him away. She hated Dumbledore for creating this situation in the first place. His back straightened and he looked at her. He'd decided.
"I'm going to the werewolves," he said. "I'm going to Fenrir. There. Happy?"
Tonks couldn't speak. The werewolves. Fenrir. The werewolves. Fenrir. The werewolves Fenrir. ThewerewolvesFenrir. The two phrases ran round and round in her brain until they collided in a sickening crash of fear and sick apprehension. But she was an Auror and she'd been trained to deal with these emotions. She took a deep breath. "That still doesn't explain why you were going to leave without a word," she said, and was pleased to hear how strong her voice sounded.
"Oh Tonks!" The name which she loved sounded odd and harsh upon his lips. "Can't you see? I can't be in contact with any human while I live with them. They would smell you upon me. They would come after you! I can't take that risk!"
If she hadn't known that he was leaving, these words would have thrilled her, but as it was, they only turned the dread into a creeping despair. He still loved her but he was leaving anyway. "So you were running away," she said, calm now as he became agitated. "Disappearing from my life."
Remus looked away. "I told you I was good at packing."
"The deal was that you pack me! Remember?"
The agony in his eyes told her that he did. "I'm sorry," he said, and then there was only space and a soft pop as he Disapparated.
Tonks looked at the boxes, all sealed neatly and stacked in the corner. That was Remus. Packing everything away, including his heart. Well, she wouldn't make it easy for him. If he thought she was going to give up, he really should know her better. She took out her wand and began to open the first box.
"Looks like it's me camping out on the lawn," she murmured.