FIC: Taking Umbrage (3/3)
Title: Taking Umbrage (3/3)
Author: MrsTater
Rating: PG
Pairing/Featured Characters: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks; Sirius Black
Summary: Third in the Transfigured Hearts series: Remus, having thought the conversation was over, couldn't imagine what more could be said on the matter. Something flickering in Tonks' eyes made him dread finding out.
Author's Notes: As always, thanks to mstatertot, beta extraordinaire.
This fic has been revised. Find the new version here.
Part Three
Completing his guard duty shift at the Department of Mysteries, Remus was uncertain as to whether he had ever been more grateful for Apparation. He was exhausted: physically, from having stayed up all night; but even more so mentally, from having stayed up all night thinking. Guard duty required only awareness of his surroundings, allowing his mind the freedom to wander. If only Remus' mind had been able to wander; instead, it remained fixated on his conversation with Tonks that had brought their budding relationship to a disastrous end. He wanted nothing more at the moment than to return to twelve Grimmauld as quickly as possible, tumble into bed, and drop to sleep to stop the torture of reliving the quarrel.
Yet even as he tapped his wand to undo the spells locking the Black manor door, he reflected on how, while he never expected the romance to last, he hadn't anticipated such an unpleasant end. However, regardless of the angle from which he examined the argument, he couldn't think of anything he would have said differently. He hadn't wanted to discuss Umbridge, but Tonks pushed him into revealing thoughts better kept hidden. Oh well - wiser to end it now, even on a sour note, than to have got much further with her. Less pain in the long run, for both parties. He knew this. Why couldn't he stop brooding?
He held his breath as he entered and stepped gingerly over the creaky floorboards. The slightest sounds set off Mrs. Black, and he felt gloomy enough without her epithets reminding him of why he never should have considered happiness with Tonks.
Safely past the portrait, he quickened his pace toward the stairs. He was distracted from his goal by a beam of light emanating from the parlour door, which stood ajar. Duty compelled him to check who was within.
Asleep on the settee was a brown-haired Tonks. Remus was so startled to see her that he stepped backward into the door. The bump was loud enough to make the Auror stir. Her eyes opened sleepily, but when her gaze settled on him, she came wide awake and changed her hair to familiar pink.
"Why aren't you at your flat?" Remus asked, though he knew the answer.
"Wotcher, Remus," came Tonks' miffed reply. "Good to see you, too."
Remus stepped further into the room and shut the door, so they wouldn't wake any other residents. "Do you know how late it is?"
"How early, you mean." Tonks drew her legs up and hugged them to her chest. "I was waiting for you. We have a discussion to finish."
Somehow Remus managed not to groan aloud, although he was unable to prevent his hands from balling into tight fists at his sides. Couldn't she ever let anything go?
"I'm sorry," Tonks said. "You don't like to dwell on your problems. Being a bit of a wallower myself, I don't really get that. But I should have respected you. I shouldn’t have pushed."
"Thank you," said Remus, moved by her sincerity. "Apology accepted."
A lengthy silence ensued, during which Tonks stared expectantly at him.
Remus shuffled his feet, and finally asked hoarsely, "Are we finished?"
With an almost defiant expression, Tonks said, "It takes two to fight, Remus."
"I-" Remus began, but fell silent. His hands hung limp at his sides. He'd blamed all of this on her, but Tonks was right; he was equally at fault. He only wished he knew how.
"You were unfair to me," Tonks said. "When I asked about… you not being able to marry… " Her gaze darted away from him, and she clutched her hands more tightly around her legs. "You assumed I was talking about…us." She drew a deep breath, then made eye contact again. "I fancy you, Remus. A lot." Her voice became more confident. "But I'm not thinking like that yet. I'm not like Fleur Delacour, with no goal other than getting a husband."
Remus wondered whether he'd ever felt more foolish. How could he have been so presumptuous? Or so unfair, as Tonks herself said? He crossed the room with a few long strides and sat at the opposite end of the sofa.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I spoke out of emotion. I took umbrage where you never meant to offend."
Surprisingly, Tonks' lips curved upward in a faint smile. "Such an appropriate name for her, don't you think?"
The return of the groan-worthy pun cut the tension between them. Relief flooded through Remus that things were right between them once more, but he remembered his earlier conclusion. "I do not think I was far afield in telling you not to waste your time with me."
"I don't want to stop seeing you," Tonks said, moving closer to him.
Remus stiffened and pressed against the arm of the sofa in the attempt to keep as much distance between them as possible. "Tonks-"
"It would never be a waste of time to me," she continued. "We'll both get a lot from it. I admire how you don't want to focus on the wrong people do to you. I worked myself into a snit today thinking too much about Umbridge."
"I suppose there is a balance," Remus said. "I am accustomed to keeping everything inside, and I do think about negatives." He paused, recalling how at Hogwarts James and Sirius had drawn him out of himself, much as Tonks had done tonight - but with better results, because he had not been so resistant to them. Time and experience had changed him; could he ever be that other Remus Lupin again? "I used to talk more."
He expected Tonks to question him in regard to the last point, but she only smiled and inched even nearer to him. "See?" Her arm rested against his, and she lay her head on his shoulder. "We're already learning from each other."
Though he relished the feel of her leaning on him, Remus turned so that she was forced to sit up and face him. "That can happen without romantic involvement, you know."
Tonks shook her head. "Not for us."
"Why not?"
"Because we fancy one another," she said frankly. "It would be all wrong if we tried to ignore that. We would have horribly awkward silences." As though to emphasize her point, Tonks took his hand. "We won't be wasting our time, even if it doesn't work out."
Remus studied their entwined fingers as conflicting thoughts waged war in his mind. He didn't want their relationship not to work out. Of course, it inevitably would not, no matter how logical Tonks' arguments sounded at the moment.
"I don’t have anything offer you in the physical sense." His hand slackened around hers, but she maintained her hold on him.
"I haven't asked you for anything," she replied. For a moment she studied him hard, her forehead wrinkled as though she were trying to puzzle out a riddle. "Remus, what do you hope to gain by selling yourself short? Pity? You won't get that from me. I like you as you are."
"I don't want pity," said Remus gruffly - for he remembered the way she'd looked at him earlier. "And you do."
Tonks' eyebrows knit. "What gave you that idea?"
"I saw it in your eyes when I said I could never support a family."
"You're not much of a Legilimens, are you?" she snorted. "If you saw pity in my eyes, it was because you caught the reflection of you pitying yourself." Her crisp tone made Remus wince. Immediately, Tonks softened and squeezed his hand. "I was surprised you see your life that way. I wondered how a wizard as intelligent as you got such ideas about himself. It's quite mental."
"Is it mental, Tonks? It all makes me feel so…" He wanted to avert his eyes, but her steady, kind gaze held him; and he saw now, her expression did not hold a trace of pity. "I feel unmanned," he continued softly. "That's why I don't like talking about it."
"But you shouldn't write off the possibility of a family." Tonks released his hand, but smiled and leant her head close to his. In a conspiratorial tone she said, "You could always be one of those modern wizards who keeps house and takes care of the children."
"Nobody would describe me as modern."
"You don't mind cooking, you're very tidy, and you like children." Tonks ticked the points off on her fingers. "Don't tell me you wouldn't enjoy a quiet life of domestic and scholarly pursuits."
Though he tried not to envision the picture Tonks painted, he did see it - with startling clarity. Enjoyment was a tremendous understatement for how such a life would make him feel. Anticipating a stab of longing, he tried to banish the dream that could never be realised. He found he could not.
"You make it seem so feasible," Remus said.
"It is feasible." Tonks' grin widened.
"Perhaps," Remus said slowly. "That doesn't change the fact that I turn to a Dark Creature every month."
"One night a month, and so far, your girlfriend handles it well."
In truth, Tonks had not precisely handled his transformations. There had not been a full moon since they began dating. Prior to the romantic turn in their relationship, she'd acquiesced to his request not to be present in the house at the time, as most of the Order did. At the moment, however, Remus was unconcerned with particulars. Tonks had referred to herself as his girlfriend. It was strange to think of himself as being that closely related to a witch, but it made him smile nonetheless.
"You handle it brilliantly," he said, raising her hand briefly his lips, "but that's not the same as living with a lycanthrope."
"That's where we might encounter issues," said Tonks. "You'll likely find me a right slob. Or my taste in music might be insufferable to you." She grinned broadly as she gestured toward her Weird Sisters t-shirt, but quickly became serious again. "Couples part all the time, and lycanthropy is rarely the cause."
Remus could argue that point till he was blue in the face - as well as the role of finances in relationship troubles - but he knew Tonks wouldn't hear it. And he did not particularly want to argue it. Tonks' view made so much sense. She wanted to be with him, and he very much wanted her to be. But there was one point he wanted to make certain was absolutely clear to her.
"Are you sure you want to continue as we are without any promise of…something more?" Remus asked. "Because I can't promise you a future, Tonks. I can only live one day at a time."
"That's the only way anyone can live, Remus. Especially in times like these. But it's okay to dream. To want."
Remus stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "What do you dream about?"
She reached to retrieve her wand from the coffee table. Flicking it lazily toward the closed door, she said, "Accio memo."
A moment later, a sheet of parchment slipped through the crack under the door and flew into Tonks' hands. Umbridge was no longer only a caricature of a witch, but full of holes, too. Sirius must have taken Tonks' advice and used it for a dartboard.
"I dream of Dolores Umbridge going green in the face," Tonks said.
As they laughed, Remus slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close against his side. For a few minutes they sat in a contented silence, during which Remus marvelled at how perfectly Tonks fit in the crook of his arm. She was just the right height for him to rest his head against hers.
At last Tonks said, "I dream about you getting to teach again someday."
Something deep inside Remus - a knot he hadn't known was there - loosened. Tonks dreamed a dream for him. Not because she pitied him, but simply because she cared. She bolstered him, yet did so without unmanning him. In fact, he hadn't felt this strong since…he couldn't remember when.
Yet in the midst of absorbing these new sensations, Remus recognized that Tonks had not revealed any of her personal dreams. While part of him hoped wildly that it was because he was a part of those fancies, he believed what she said earlier: at this point, she wasn't thinking of him that way. His self-image wasn't so inflated that he imagined such a thing would ever come to be. In any case, now was not the time to let her see how deeply she had moved him.
He raised his arm to rest on the back of the sofa and turned to her with a teasing expression. "How will the Defence Against Dark Arts position become available again? Will Umbridge resign when her face goes green?"
"Naturally," said Tonks. "It would clash awfully with her pink cardigan."
"Maybe you could serve as interim professor, while I lobby with the Ministry for werewolf rights. You are an Auror, after all. Perfectly qualified."
Tonks pulled a face. "I would trip over a desk and lose all the students' respect within the first minute of class. Plus my hair isn't very professorly."
"Dumbledore isn't concerned with the professors' hair. Otherwise he would never allow Severus to keep that greasy mop."
As their mirth abated, Tonks asked, through a yawn, "D'you know what I'm dreaming of right now?"
The yawn was contagious. Covering his mouth, Remus asked, "Sleep?" He realized the sun had begun to rise; light filtered dimly through yellowed lace curtains. Arthur and Molly would be up soon, and Order members would arrive at the house for the day's assignments. Tonks had to work.
"Not sleep." Tonks slipped her arms around Remus' neck and inched close enough that their noses almost touched. "I'm dreaming of you kissing me to make up for our row. And maybe you can help me decide if I like lip kisses better than ear and neck kisses."
Remus needed no further coaxing to lean in and fulfil that particular dream of Tonks'. But he stopped just as his lips brushed her cheek. "Just swear to me you won't metamorphose into Dolores Umbridge the moment I kiss you."
Author: MrsTater
Rating: PG
Pairing/Featured Characters: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks; Sirius Black
Summary: Third in the Transfigured Hearts series: Remus, having thought the conversation was over, couldn't imagine what more could be said on the matter. Something flickering in Tonks' eyes made him dread finding out.
Author's Notes: As always, thanks to mstatertot, beta extraordinaire.
This fic has been revised. Find the new version here.
Part Three
Completing his guard duty shift at the Department of Mysteries, Remus was uncertain as to whether he had ever been more grateful for Apparation. He was exhausted: physically, from having stayed up all night; but even more so mentally, from having stayed up all night thinking. Guard duty required only awareness of his surroundings, allowing his mind the freedom to wander. If only Remus' mind had been able to wander; instead, it remained fixated on his conversation with Tonks that had brought their budding relationship to a disastrous end. He wanted nothing more at the moment than to return to twelve Grimmauld as quickly as possible, tumble into bed, and drop to sleep to stop the torture of reliving the quarrel.
Yet even as he tapped his wand to undo the spells locking the Black manor door, he reflected on how, while he never expected the romance to last, he hadn't anticipated such an unpleasant end. However, regardless of the angle from which he examined the argument, he couldn't think of anything he would have said differently. He hadn't wanted to discuss Umbridge, but Tonks pushed him into revealing thoughts better kept hidden. Oh well - wiser to end it now, even on a sour note, than to have got much further with her. Less pain in the long run, for both parties. He knew this. Why couldn't he stop brooding?
He held his breath as he entered and stepped gingerly over the creaky floorboards. The slightest sounds set off Mrs. Black, and he felt gloomy enough without her epithets reminding him of why he never should have considered happiness with Tonks.
Safely past the portrait, he quickened his pace toward the stairs. He was distracted from his goal by a beam of light emanating from the parlour door, which stood ajar. Duty compelled him to check who was within.
Asleep on the settee was a brown-haired Tonks. Remus was so startled to see her that he stepped backward into the door. The bump was loud enough to make the Auror stir. Her eyes opened sleepily, but when her gaze settled on him, she came wide awake and changed her hair to familiar pink.
"Why aren't you at your flat?" Remus asked, though he knew the answer.
"Wotcher, Remus," came Tonks' miffed reply. "Good to see you, too."
Remus stepped further into the room and shut the door, so they wouldn't wake any other residents. "Do you know how late it is?"
"How early, you mean." Tonks drew her legs up and hugged them to her chest. "I was waiting for you. We have a discussion to finish."
Somehow Remus managed not to groan aloud, although he was unable to prevent his hands from balling into tight fists at his sides. Couldn't she ever let anything go?
"I'm sorry," Tonks said. "You don't like to dwell on your problems. Being a bit of a wallower myself, I don't really get that. But I should have respected you. I shouldn’t have pushed."
"Thank you," said Remus, moved by her sincerity. "Apology accepted."
A lengthy silence ensued, during which Tonks stared expectantly at him.
Remus shuffled his feet, and finally asked hoarsely, "Are we finished?"
With an almost defiant expression, Tonks said, "It takes two to fight, Remus."
"I-" Remus began, but fell silent. His hands hung limp at his sides. He'd blamed all of this on her, but Tonks was right; he was equally at fault. He only wished he knew how.
"You were unfair to me," Tonks said. "When I asked about… you not being able to marry… " Her gaze darted away from him, and she clutched her hands more tightly around her legs. "You assumed I was talking about…us." She drew a deep breath, then made eye contact again. "I fancy you, Remus. A lot." Her voice became more confident. "But I'm not thinking like that yet. I'm not like Fleur Delacour, with no goal other than getting a husband."
Remus wondered whether he'd ever felt more foolish. How could he have been so presumptuous? Or so unfair, as Tonks herself said? He crossed the room with a few long strides and sat at the opposite end of the sofa.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I spoke out of emotion. I took umbrage where you never meant to offend."
Surprisingly, Tonks' lips curved upward in a faint smile. "Such an appropriate name for her, don't you think?"
The return of the groan-worthy pun cut the tension between them. Relief flooded through Remus that things were right between them once more, but he remembered his earlier conclusion. "I do not think I was far afield in telling you not to waste your time with me."
"I don't want to stop seeing you," Tonks said, moving closer to him.
Remus stiffened and pressed against the arm of the sofa in the attempt to keep as much distance between them as possible. "Tonks-"
"It would never be a waste of time to me," she continued. "We'll both get a lot from it. I admire how you don't want to focus on the wrong people do to you. I worked myself into a snit today thinking too much about Umbridge."
"I suppose there is a balance," Remus said. "I am accustomed to keeping everything inside, and I do think about negatives." He paused, recalling how at Hogwarts James and Sirius had drawn him out of himself, much as Tonks had done tonight - but with better results, because he had not been so resistant to them. Time and experience had changed him; could he ever be that other Remus Lupin again? "I used to talk more."
He expected Tonks to question him in regard to the last point, but she only smiled and inched even nearer to him. "See?" Her arm rested against his, and she lay her head on his shoulder. "We're already learning from each other."
Though he relished the feel of her leaning on him, Remus turned so that she was forced to sit up and face him. "That can happen without romantic involvement, you know."
Tonks shook her head. "Not for us."
"Why not?"
"Because we fancy one another," she said frankly. "It would be all wrong if we tried to ignore that. We would have horribly awkward silences." As though to emphasize her point, Tonks took his hand. "We won't be wasting our time, even if it doesn't work out."
Remus studied their entwined fingers as conflicting thoughts waged war in his mind. He didn't want their relationship not to work out. Of course, it inevitably would not, no matter how logical Tonks' arguments sounded at the moment.
"I don’t have anything offer you in the physical sense." His hand slackened around hers, but she maintained her hold on him.
"I haven't asked you for anything," she replied. For a moment she studied him hard, her forehead wrinkled as though she were trying to puzzle out a riddle. "Remus, what do you hope to gain by selling yourself short? Pity? You won't get that from me. I like you as you are."
"I don't want pity," said Remus gruffly - for he remembered the way she'd looked at him earlier. "And you do."
Tonks' eyebrows knit. "What gave you that idea?"
"I saw it in your eyes when I said I could never support a family."
"You're not much of a Legilimens, are you?" she snorted. "If you saw pity in my eyes, it was because you caught the reflection of you pitying yourself." Her crisp tone made Remus wince. Immediately, Tonks softened and squeezed his hand. "I was surprised you see your life that way. I wondered how a wizard as intelligent as you got such ideas about himself. It's quite mental."
"Is it mental, Tonks? It all makes me feel so…" He wanted to avert his eyes, but her steady, kind gaze held him; and he saw now, her expression did not hold a trace of pity. "I feel unmanned," he continued softly. "That's why I don't like talking about it."
"But you shouldn't write off the possibility of a family." Tonks released his hand, but smiled and leant her head close to his. In a conspiratorial tone she said, "You could always be one of those modern wizards who keeps house and takes care of the children."
"Nobody would describe me as modern."
"You don't mind cooking, you're very tidy, and you like children." Tonks ticked the points off on her fingers. "Don't tell me you wouldn't enjoy a quiet life of domestic and scholarly pursuits."
Though he tried not to envision the picture Tonks painted, he did see it - with startling clarity. Enjoyment was a tremendous understatement for how such a life would make him feel. Anticipating a stab of longing, he tried to banish the dream that could never be realised. He found he could not.
"You make it seem so feasible," Remus said.
"It is feasible." Tonks' grin widened.
"Perhaps," Remus said slowly. "That doesn't change the fact that I turn to a Dark Creature every month."
"One night a month, and so far, your girlfriend handles it well."
In truth, Tonks had not precisely handled his transformations. There had not been a full moon since they began dating. Prior to the romantic turn in their relationship, she'd acquiesced to his request not to be present in the house at the time, as most of the Order did. At the moment, however, Remus was unconcerned with particulars. Tonks had referred to herself as his girlfriend. It was strange to think of himself as being that closely related to a witch, but it made him smile nonetheless.
"You handle it brilliantly," he said, raising her hand briefly his lips, "but that's not the same as living with a lycanthrope."
"That's where we might encounter issues," said Tonks. "You'll likely find me a right slob. Or my taste in music might be insufferable to you." She grinned broadly as she gestured toward her Weird Sisters t-shirt, but quickly became serious again. "Couples part all the time, and lycanthropy is rarely the cause."
Remus could argue that point till he was blue in the face - as well as the role of finances in relationship troubles - but he knew Tonks wouldn't hear it. And he did not particularly want to argue it. Tonks' view made so much sense. She wanted to be with him, and he very much wanted her to be. But there was one point he wanted to make certain was absolutely clear to her.
"Are you sure you want to continue as we are without any promise of…something more?" Remus asked. "Because I can't promise you a future, Tonks. I can only live one day at a time."
"That's the only way anyone can live, Remus. Especially in times like these. But it's okay to dream. To want."
Remus stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "What do you dream about?"
She reached to retrieve her wand from the coffee table. Flicking it lazily toward the closed door, she said, "Accio memo."
A moment later, a sheet of parchment slipped through the crack under the door and flew into Tonks' hands. Umbridge was no longer only a caricature of a witch, but full of holes, too. Sirius must have taken Tonks' advice and used it for a dartboard.
"I dream of Dolores Umbridge going green in the face," Tonks said.
As they laughed, Remus slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close against his side. For a few minutes they sat in a contented silence, during which Remus marvelled at how perfectly Tonks fit in the crook of his arm. She was just the right height for him to rest his head against hers.
At last Tonks said, "I dream about you getting to teach again someday."
Something deep inside Remus - a knot he hadn't known was there - loosened. Tonks dreamed a dream for him. Not because she pitied him, but simply because she cared. She bolstered him, yet did so without unmanning him. In fact, he hadn't felt this strong since…he couldn't remember when.
Yet in the midst of absorbing these new sensations, Remus recognized that Tonks had not revealed any of her personal dreams. While part of him hoped wildly that it was because he was a part of those fancies, he believed what she said earlier: at this point, she wasn't thinking of him that way. His self-image wasn't so inflated that he imagined such a thing would ever come to be. In any case, now was not the time to let her see how deeply she had moved him.
He raised his arm to rest on the back of the sofa and turned to her with a teasing expression. "How will the Defence Against Dark Arts position become available again? Will Umbridge resign when her face goes green?"
"Naturally," said Tonks. "It would clash awfully with her pink cardigan."
"Maybe you could serve as interim professor, while I lobby with the Ministry for werewolf rights. You are an Auror, after all. Perfectly qualified."
Tonks pulled a face. "I would trip over a desk and lose all the students' respect within the first minute of class. Plus my hair isn't very professorly."
"Dumbledore isn't concerned with the professors' hair. Otherwise he would never allow Severus to keep that greasy mop."
As their mirth abated, Tonks asked, through a yawn, "D'you know what I'm dreaming of right now?"
The yawn was contagious. Covering his mouth, Remus asked, "Sleep?" He realized the sun had begun to rise; light filtered dimly through yellowed lace curtains. Arthur and Molly would be up soon, and Order members would arrive at the house for the day's assignments. Tonks had to work.
"Not sleep." Tonks slipped her arms around Remus' neck and inched close enough that their noses almost touched. "I'm dreaming of you kissing me to make up for our row. And maybe you can help me decide if I like lip kisses better than ear and neck kisses."
Remus needed no further coaxing to lean in and fulfil that particular dream of Tonks'. But he stopped just as his lips brushed her cheek. "Just swear to me you won't metamorphose into Dolores Umbridge the moment I kiss you."