Prompt 9 & 10
Title: The False Security of Subterfuge
Author:
princesstopaz
Format & Word Count: Fic, 2193
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 9- "cheat", 10- "Katie Melua- 'I Think It's Going To Rain Today'"
Warning: angst, HBP canon, heavy swearing
Summary: Wearing the banner of "Dumbledore gave me a mission" as a protective cloak, Remus runs away.
Author's Note: As time passes I find that I'm not a big fan of canon-Remus. In fact, I'm beginning to hate him. Thank goodness for Fanon-Remus then, I desperately love him. *sighs happily* Might be a bit of a stretch on both prompts, but I really, really tried.
She must have discovered that he was gone by now, and the bottles of Strengthening Solution, Blood-Replenishing Potion and Skele-gro on the nightstand, the needles and thread, the bandages and the remnants of breakfast down in the kitchen, which he’d been halfway through before he got immensely sick and had to leave it. And his umbrella; though there had been a storm brewing for days now, darkening the western horizon to an unnatural slate, where he was going he did not need it.
He refused to let his mind wander to a series of her possible reactions when she did though, he should not have allowed them to get into a situation like this in the first place.
The world and nature seemed to disagree. As he stepped out of the dreary house, it was to be met by the blistering chill that preceded the storm after days without direct sunlight and the whitening mist of the Dementor's breeding. A car passed and soaked his feet and tattered robes with a splash of undoubtedly germ-filled puddle water. And somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Sirius soberly raging--as he had been since he woke this morning and set his plans in motion--the words “coward”, “bastard” and “spineless berk” in constant repetition. Remus did not attempt to contradict him or swear at his lot, he knew the truth and he deserved it.
Nymphadora Tonks was a lovely girl, with a vibrant personality, kind heart and two demanding jobs that never seemed to faze her no matter how much they surely tried. She had stumbled into his arms the first time they met, apologised with a swear and then apologised again with much embarrassment that Sirius did nothing to abate. When last he’d seen her she was just eight years old and her emotions ruled her changes. Now time had done its best and she was twenty-two and looked it, and he could not stop his lecherous eyes from roving over every inch or his mind from wondering how much was really her and what she’d added.
She had not noticed, too busy bickering with Sirius for his teasing and Mad-Eye for his lecture about her lack of control, and for that he was immeasurably grateful. But that was not to be the last time he would look over her like any man would do an attractive woman. As the days and weeks stretched from their first meeting he discovered that he was yet to register the words “colleague”, “Sirius’ baby cousin” and “friend” in relation to her. He only ever saw Nymphadora, and called her so and laughed when she rebuked him for it.
And then she remembered that he was a werewolf and came the morning after a transformation to see him, casually asking what he wanted for breakfast and would he mind it terribly if he came down to the kitchen for it rather than allowing her to bring it up the stairs? She wouldn’t ask normally but she was just so clumsy that she didn’t want to break anything they really needed, and besides, it was good to walk some of it off she always thought.
He’d happily obliged, and they had a good time of it, playing Exploding Snap and Wizard’s Chess at the table, at times cheating flagrantly. She’d never know how she’d endeared herself to him forever after that, but then she must have for she was back again one month later, and then the month after that, and after that and so on... to now.
War was upon them, Sirius was dead, the Death Eaters and Voldemort were on the loose, and Dumbledore needed him to leave as soon as possible for a serious mission among the werewolves. The weather was not the only thing with a storm in the works. And though he wasn’t entirely sure that there was something between him and Nymphadora, it was best to take pre-emptory action while he still could. It was best to let her know that he had taken her human kindness, the most wonderful aspect of her nature in the face of all the insincerity and outright and abuse and rejection he'd received over the years from so many others, and yes, this included his friends, for exactly that. Human kindness and nothing more, and nothing more it would ever be.
He stopped when he noticed her sitting on a wall just ahead, black hair long down her shoulders, swept to one side and dipped in bubblegum pink, eyes dark with make-up and undisguised fury and from her posture, clearly about to pounce. She was holding a large black umbrella in her hand like a sword. Remus dared not take another step now, for fear that she would use it like one, and began, “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
She just continued to stare at him for a while, ignoring his excuse. A biting cold wind blew round them, whipping at her hair and staining her cheeks and nose with enough colour that she became frightfully beautiful in her wrath. Remus swallowed, and then at last she said, “Cheater.” At once his brow furrowed in confusion, but she merely jumped down from her perch and repeated, “You bloody fucking cheater!”
Still confused but determined to defend himself as best he could while he could, he began, “I’m sorry... but Miss Tonks-”
She cut him off with a strangled cry that could have been frustration or an attempt to contain herself, and then finally launched into her tirade. “Don’t call me Miss Tonks, you always fucking say Nymphadora but don’t even think about saying that now either! How dare you! How dare you do this to me? Every month, every bloody month we have breakfast together and play games until work or noon, and then this morning I come up to find that you’ve patched up yourself right quick and fucking fled without a-”
“-Fled? I’ll have you know that I have a very important mission-”
“-word! You could’ve left a note! You could have just told me that you didn’t want to do this anymore! But instead you decide to cheat me, to take the coward’s way out and leave without so much as a ‘Goodbye Nymphadora, I’m sorry but I have to go’!”
He said nothing and felt his traitorous head bow to her rage. He deserved it, every word; he should not have left her like that. They had not only had mornings together after the full moon, as a matter of fact in the last six months they’d spent every bit of their free time together and not merely for breakfast and games. Anyone would have begun to read into things. It was how he knew that she wasn't just speaking about his decision to forgo their post-full moon routine.
Oh, what had he done? It was not supposed to be like this. He’d spent years avoiding situations that could lead to moments like this. He was not Harry and his friends, (and yes, even her) who still had some time for chasing after love. He was a cursed man with no future. He should have told her to go away the first day she walked into his room. He should have written her name under the heading “Sirius’ baby cousin”, underlined three times and stamped in bright red "Warning: Stay Away From!" in his brain a long time ago and not indulged temptation. He should have remembered that she was fourteen years his junior, with a bright career ahead of her and did not need to be tied down, and especially to him, so young. He should have, but he didn’t.
He looked back up to her and realised that she was waiting for his response. He said what he'd practiced in the event that she'd tracked him down. “I’m sorry... but I have to leave. Dumbledore’s given me a mission for the Order and I should get to it as soon as possible. And with Sirius (he swallowed again) gone, the house is no longer safe, we have to leave anyway.”
Unsurprisingly, this did nothing to appease her. “That’s your excuse? That you have a mission from Dumbledore so you can just slip out while everyone’s asleep and go?”
How was it that she and Sirius could make the simplest of statements sound so sordid? To any stranger passing by it would sound as if they were having an ugly lover’s quarrel....
He had to force the firmness into his tone as he said, “It is not an excuse, it’s the situation. We are at war, we don't have time for cheating at games until noon. You yourself complained recently that your duties have been significantly increased since Scrimgeour took up the post of Minister for Magic. It was hard enough before maintaining even something that resembled acquaintances, now that everyone knows that Voldemort's back we don't have time for this. Now excuse me... Tonks... I have to go.”
He then brazenly made an attempt to pass but she stepped in front of him with more steadiness than she normally possessed, the umbrella raised like a weapon, and asked, “What did I do?”
That stayed his next attempt to pass and he looked back to her, shocked. “What?”
“What did I do? It had to be something I did for you to do this, so what was it?” she asked, her eyes shining with tears and the beginnings of a plea.
How far gone into this was she? He'd been prepared for infatuation, but Nymphadora actions were beginning to look anything but, if he was seeing right. He always thought her of those women for who begging was a trait that belonged to someone else, for her to even consider it.... His voice was shaky and he stammered as he told her, “N-nothing, you didn’t do anything wrong. I-I told you, I have a mission from Dumbledore and I h-h-have to go as soon as possible. I’m sorry if I misled you in any way-”
The anger returned with a vengeance. “Misled me? Misled me? I don’t think I was misled, as a matter of fact, I know I wasn’t! I saw it in your face every time I looked at you! I see it even now!"
Now thoroughly rattled, Remus dropped his gaze and said with as much finality as he could muster, “Then you were just misleading yourself. I’m sorry that I can’t continue this illusion with you, I’m sorry that you have this fantasy image of me as a werewolf, I’m sorry-”
He was cut off by her slap, hot and stinging against the chilly air. He looked back up at her at once, hand at his cheek, and she told him, the tears now running freely down her face, her voice breaking, “And I’m sorry that I love you. (Remus felt his heart sink like a stone in his chest. Oh Merlin, how could he have let this happen?) I'm sorry that you think so little of me. That you could just proves I really was a fool.... You just wanted someone to make you feel human again, and I volunteered thinking that you wanted a friend... or something more. What a fool am I? I should’ve known that I was just a means to an end.”
He made to protest, this he would not stand for being accused of. But she added then, “But you don't have to do that. You’re more human than you realise. You’re just like every other damned male in this planet.”
And with that she sidestepped him and walked away down the street back towards Grimmauld Place, still cluctching the umbrella. Her retreating figure seemed to droop and wilt before his eyes, in fact her hair was fading into the natural mousy brown she'd long rejected like it used to when she was a child. He wanted now to recant his arguments, throw himself at her feet and plead forgiveness for his behaviour. He wanted to cry out that he did want something more than friendship with her, scary as that was, and had wanted that from the moment he laid eyes on her, stumbling into Grimmauld Place just over a year ago. But he didn’t. He'd got what he wanted, everything was going to be as it should, Nymphadora would recover and realise that she had much better prospects all around her, and he could go off to the werewolves.
*
Days later, tired, dirty and hungry, stumbling through the torrential rain in search of Greyback's ever-elusive pack, wondering how Dumbledore could have thought him most qualified for this, in spite of his condition, Remus wished desperately that he had. With her he had never desired to feel human, he just was. And in return he'd taken her nature, her precious human kindness and thrown it back in her face. How right she was, and no wonder he couldn't find the pack. He was no better than the humans than the people who scorned him.
Author:
princesstopaz
Format & Word Count: Fic, 2193
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 9- "cheat", 10- "Katie Melua- 'I Think It's Going To Rain Today'"
Warning: angst, HBP canon, heavy swearing
Summary: Wearing the banner of "Dumbledore gave me a mission" as a protective cloak, Remus runs away.
Author's Note: As time passes I find that I'm not a big fan of canon-Remus. In fact, I'm beginning to hate him. Thank goodness for Fanon-Remus then, I desperately love him. *sighs happily* Might be a bit of a stretch on both prompts, but I really, really tried.
She must have discovered that he was gone by now, and the bottles of Strengthening Solution, Blood-Replenishing Potion and Skele-gro on the nightstand, the needles and thread, the bandages and the remnants of breakfast down in the kitchen, which he’d been halfway through before he got immensely sick and had to leave it. And his umbrella; though there had been a storm brewing for days now, darkening the western horizon to an unnatural slate, where he was going he did not need it.
He refused to let his mind wander to a series of her possible reactions when she did though, he should not have allowed them to get into a situation like this in the first place.
The world and nature seemed to disagree. As he stepped out of the dreary house, it was to be met by the blistering chill that preceded the storm after days without direct sunlight and the whitening mist of the Dementor's breeding. A car passed and soaked his feet and tattered robes with a splash of undoubtedly germ-filled puddle water. And somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Sirius soberly raging--as he had been since he woke this morning and set his plans in motion--the words “coward”, “bastard” and “spineless berk” in constant repetition. Remus did not attempt to contradict him or swear at his lot, he knew the truth and he deserved it.
Nymphadora Tonks was a lovely girl, with a vibrant personality, kind heart and two demanding jobs that never seemed to faze her no matter how much they surely tried. She had stumbled into his arms the first time they met, apologised with a swear and then apologised again with much embarrassment that Sirius did nothing to abate. When last he’d seen her she was just eight years old and her emotions ruled her changes. Now time had done its best and she was twenty-two and looked it, and he could not stop his lecherous eyes from roving over every inch or his mind from wondering how much was really her and what she’d added.
She had not noticed, too busy bickering with Sirius for his teasing and Mad-Eye for his lecture about her lack of control, and for that he was immeasurably grateful. But that was not to be the last time he would look over her like any man would do an attractive woman. As the days and weeks stretched from their first meeting he discovered that he was yet to register the words “colleague”, “Sirius’ baby cousin” and “friend” in relation to her. He only ever saw Nymphadora, and called her so and laughed when she rebuked him for it.
And then she remembered that he was a werewolf and came the morning after a transformation to see him, casually asking what he wanted for breakfast and would he mind it terribly if he came down to the kitchen for it rather than allowing her to bring it up the stairs? She wouldn’t ask normally but she was just so clumsy that she didn’t want to break anything they really needed, and besides, it was good to walk some of it off she always thought.
He’d happily obliged, and they had a good time of it, playing Exploding Snap and Wizard’s Chess at the table, at times cheating flagrantly. She’d never know how she’d endeared herself to him forever after that, but then she must have for she was back again one month later, and then the month after that, and after that and so on... to now.
War was upon them, Sirius was dead, the Death Eaters and Voldemort were on the loose, and Dumbledore needed him to leave as soon as possible for a serious mission among the werewolves. The weather was not the only thing with a storm in the works. And though he wasn’t entirely sure that there was something between him and Nymphadora, it was best to take pre-emptory action while he still could. It was best to let her know that he had taken her human kindness, the most wonderful aspect of her nature in the face of all the insincerity and outright and abuse and rejection he'd received over the years from so many others, and yes, this included his friends, for exactly that. Human kindness and nothing more, and nothing more it would ever be.
He stopped when he noticed her sitting on a wall just ahead, black hair long down her shoulders, swept to one side and dipped in bubblegum pink, eyes dark with make-up and undisguised fury and from her posture, clearly about to pounce. She was holding a large black umbrella in her hand like a sword. Remus dared not take another step now, for fear that she would use it like one, and began, “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
She just continued to stare at him for a while, ignoring his excuse. A biting cold wind blew round them, whipping at her hair and staining her cheeks and nose with enough colour that she became frightfully beautiful in her wrath. Remus swallowed, and then at last she said, “Cheater.” At once his brow furrowed in confusion, but she merely jumped down from her perch and repeated, “You bloody fucking cheater!”
Still confused but determined to defend himself as best he could while he could, he began, “I’m sorry... but Miss Tonks-”
She cut him off with a strangled cry that could have been frustration or an attempt to contain herself, and then finally launched into her tirade. “Don’t call me Miss Tonks, you always fucking say Nymphadora but don’t even think about saying that now either! How dare you! How dare you do this to me? Every month, every bloody month we have breakfast together and play games until work or noon, and then this morning I come up to find that you’ve patched up yourself right quick and fucking fled without a-”
“-Fled? I’ll have you know that I have a very important mission-”
“-word! You could’ve left a note! You could have just told me that you didn’t want to do this anymore! But instead you decide to cheat me, to take the coward’s way out and leave without so much as a ‘Goodbye Nymphadora, I’m sorry but I have to go’!”
He said nothing and felt his traitorous head bow to her rage. He deserved it, every word; he should not have left her like that. They had not only had mornings together after the full moon, as a matter of fact in the last six months they’d spent every bit of their free time together and not merely for breakfast and games. Anyone would have begun to read into things. It was how he knew that she wasn't just speaking about his decision to forgo their post-full moon routine.
Oh, what had he done? It was not supposed to be like this. He’d spent years avoiding situations that could lead to moments like this. He was not Harry and his friends, (and yes, even her) who still had some time for chasing after love. He was a cursed man with no future. He should have told her to go away the first day she walked into his room. He should have written her name under the heading “Sirius’ baby cousin”, underlined three times and stamped in bright red "Warning: Stay Away From!" in his brain a long time ago and not indulged temptation. He should have remembered that she was fourteen years his junior, with a bright career ahead of her and did not need to be tied down, and especially to him, so young. He should have, but he didn’t.
He looked back up to her and realised that she was waiting for his response. He said what he'd practiced in the event that she'd tracked him down. “I’m sorry... but I have to leave. Dumbledore’s given me a mission for the Order and I should get to it as soon as possible. And with Sirius (he swallowed again) gone, the house is no longer safe, we have to leave anyway.”
Unsurprisingly, this did nothing to appease her. “That’s your excuse? That you have a mission from Dumbledore so you can just slip out while everyone’s asleep and go?”
How was it that she and Sirius could make the simplest of statements sound so sordid? To any stranger passing by it would sound as if they were having an ugly lover’s quarrel....
He had to force the firmness into his tone as he said, “It is not an excuse, it’s the situation. We are at war, we don't have time for cheating at games until noon. You yourself complained recently that your duties have been significantly increased since Scrimgeour took up the post of Minister for Magic. It was hard enough before maintaining even something that resembled acquaintances, now that everyone knows that Voldemort's back we don't have time for this. Now excuse me... Tonks... I have to go.”
He then brazenly made an attempt to pass but she stepped in front of him with more steadiness than she normally possessed, the umbrella raised like a weapon, and asked, “What did I do?”
That stayed his next attempt to pass and he looked back to her, shocked. “What?”
“What did I do? It had to be something I did for you to do this, so what was it?” she asked, her eyes shining with tears and the beginnings of a plea.
How far gone into this was she? He'd been prepared for infatuation, but Nymphadora actions were beginning to look anything but, if he was seeing right. He always thought her of those women for who begging was a trait that belonged to someone else, for her to even consider it.... His voice was shaky and he stammered as he told her, “N-nothing, you didn’t do anything wrong. I-I told you, I have a mission from Dumbledore and I h-h-have to go as soon as possible. I’m sorry if I misled you in any way-”
The anger returned with a vengeance. “Misled me? Misled me? I don’t think I was misled, as a matter of fact, I know I wasn’t! I saw it in your face every time I looked at you! I see it even now!"
Now thoroughly rattled, Remus dropped his gaze and said with as much finality as he could muster, “Then you were just misleading yourself. I’m sorry that I can’t continue this illusion with you, I’m sorry that you have this fantasy image of me as a werewolf, I’m sorry-”
He was cut off by her slap, hot and stinging against the chilly air. He looked back up at her at once, hand at his cheek, and she told him, the tears now running freely down her face, her voice breaking, “And I’m sorry that I love you. (Remus felt his heart sink like a stone in his chest. Oh Merlin, how could he have let this happen?) I'm sorry that you think so little of me. That you could just proves I really was a fool.... You just wanted someone to make you feel human again, and I volunteered thinking that you wanted a friend... or something more. What a fool am I? I should’ve known that I was just a means to an end.”
He made to protest, this he would not stand for being accused of. But she added then, “But you don't have to do that. You’re more human than you realise. You’re just like every other damned male in this planet.”
And with that she sidestepped him and walked away down the street back towards Grimmauld Place, still cluctching the umbrella. Her retreating figure seemed to droop and wilt before his eyes, in fact her hair was fading into the natural mousy brown she'd long rejected like it used to when she was a child. He wanted now to recant his arguments, throw himself at her feet and plead forgiveness for his behaviour. He wanted to cry out that he did want something more than friendship with her, scary as that was, and had wanted that from the moment he laid eyes on her, stumbling into Grimmauld Place just over a year ago. But he didn’t. He'd got what he wanted, everything was going to be as it should, Nymphadora would recover and realise that she had much better prospects all around her, and he could go off to the werewolves.
*
Days later, tired, dirty and hungry, stumbling through the torrential rain in search of Greyback's ever-elusive pack, wondering how Dumbledore could have thought him most qualified for this, in spite of his condition, Remus wished desperately that he had. With her he had never desired to feel human, he just was. And in return he'd taken her nature, her precious human kindness and thrown it back in her face. How right she was, and no wonder he couldn't find the pack. He was no better than the humans than the people who scorned him.