Prompt 31
Title: In the End
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus/Tonks
Format & Word Count: Fic
Rating: PG
Prompt: For the rt_challenge August ficathon #31, the end
Warning: Completely, totally and utterly AU for DH.
Summary: For once in her life, she did as she was told.
In the end, for once in her life, Nymphadora Tonks did as she was told.
Despite her protests, she let her husband kiss her child goodbye, kiss her goodbye, and walk out the door, not knowing if she was ever going to see him again.
And she promised him that she would stay where she was.
Which wasn’t to say that she was happy about it. On the contrary, on several occasions she threatened to follow him, to take part in the fight. Only her mother prevented her from doing so, and the long look, the firm nods that had been exchanged between Andromeda and Remus suddenly took on a whole new meaning for Tonks.
“I should be there,” she raged on one occasion, once more a child forbidden to play outside. “I’m an Auror, I’m a bloody good Auror, and they’re going to need all the help they can get!”
“You are an Auror who gave birth not three months ago,” her mother crisply reminded her. “You’re out of shape, out of practice and you’re a danger to yourself and everyone else if you go.”
There was more truth in the argument than Tonks wanted to admit, so she ignored it, tried again. “I need to be there,” she said. “Remus…”
“Remus trusted you to keep your word,” Andromeda interrupted. “He is trusting you to raise your son if…” Suddenly Andromeda’s voice faltered and she looked down, twisting her hands together. “… if the worst should happen. I did not raise you to break your promises.” Slowly, she walked over to the white basket in the corner of the room, scooping up Teddy in her arms. “Your son needs you.”
It wasn’t the words that convinced Tonks, nor was it the weight of her son in her arms as her mother passed him over. Rather, it was the catch in her mother’s voice, the way her words had faltered, suddenly reminding Tonks that not long before she’d become a mother, her mother had become a widow.
How many nights had her parents sat here, in this very room, waiting for her to come home, not knowing if she would? How must they have felt when they were notified by Mad-Eye Moody, two years ago, that she’d been admitted to St Mungo’s? When, mere months ago, Harry and Hagrid had crash-landed on their front lawn and been unable to tell them of her whereabouts?
She wanted to go to Hogwarts, wanted it with an ache that was fierce and powerful.
But suddenly the notion of leaving her mother and son waiting for her return was more than she could bear.
So she did the only thing she could do.
She sat down on the couch, her son on her lap, his weight far more effective than any body-bind curse her mother had threatened her with, and waited.
Evening turned to night.
And they waited.
Night turned to morning.
And still, they waited, not sleeping, not eating, eyes torn between the sleeping child and the clock on the mantel, trying to convince themselves that no news was good news, that if something had happened, if the worst had happened, some news would come to them.
The fear that there was no-one left alive to tell remained unspoken.
Finally, there was the unmistakable sound of footsteps outside, of a hand on the door.
Andromeda and Tonks exchanged a look, a slow nod. Both standing, Andromeda pushed the basket out of sight behind the couch as Tonks pressed a kiss to Teddy’s forehead and laid him gently inside it, praying he wouldn’t stir. He continued to sleep, and when she turned away from him, she took her wand from inside her robes, pointing it in the same direction as Andromeda was pointing her wand.
Slowly, as if in slow motion, the door opened, and someone stepped in.
There was a moment of silence.
Then Tonks screamed, Andromeda let out a gasp that was half-sob and Teddy was crying at being so rudely awoken and Tonks didn’t care because she’d dropped her wand and had flung her arms around Remus’s neck. The feeling of his arms around her, his hands at her back was the most wonderful sensation she could have ever dreamed of, and she was dimly aware of two voices saying over and over, “I love you.”
When she pulled back, his robes were wet with her tears, hers with his, and they would have been content to stay like that, staring into one another’s eyes, but Andromeda’s whisper broke the spell.
“Remus… Remus, what happened?”
Remus blinked, looking shell-shocked, as if he’d just realised there was someone else in the room. He swallowed hard, gaze going from Andromeda, holding a still whimpering Teddy in her arms, to Tonks, then back to Teddy. Finally, he spoke.
“It is over.”
Tonks looked at her mother, then back to him again. “You mean…” She was almost afraid to hope, afraid the ambiguity of his statement was because the worst had happened.
It seemed years before Remus spoke again. “Voldemort is dead,” he said simply, and once again, Andromeda let out a gasp that was more like a sob, and Tonks was gripping Remus’s arm so tightly that she was sure she would draw blood.
“You mean… Harry…”
She could scarcely put the idea into words, but Remus met her gaze, nodding. “It’s over,” he said again, and this time, tears filled his eyes, rolled slowly down his cheeks. He embraced her once more, then walked over to Andromeda, hugging her before he took Teddy from her. Pressing his lips to the child’s forehead, he moved to the couch, sat heavily down upon it and held his son as if his very life depended on it.
Tonks stood watching them, tears rolling down her own cheeks, and she was hardly aware of her mother approaching her, hugging her before pushing her towards the couch. Once she was moving, though, her feet carried her seemingly of their own accord, and then she was beside him, holding him, holding their baby, and her mother was sitting beside her, head upon her shoulder, one hand running over her hair.
There were a million questions running through her head, but those would come later. There would be time, in the days and years ahead to talk of the battle, to piece together the chain of events that had led him back here, to them, time to grieve for the dead and celebrate with the living.
But that would all come later.
For now, she had her mother and husband beside her, a hungry son pulling at her robes demanding to be fed; her family around her, with a world of tomorrows before them.
In the end, that was all that mattered.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus/Tonks
Format & Word Count: Fic
Rating: PG
Prompt: For the rt_challenge August ficathon #31, the end
Warning: Completely, totally and utterly AU for DH.
Summary: For once in her life, she did as she was told.
In the end, for once in her life, Nymphadora Tonks did as she was told.
Despite her protests, she let her husband kiss her child goodbye, kiss her goodbye, and walk out the door, not knowing if she was ever going to see him again.
And she promised him that she would stay where she was.
Which wasn’t to say that she was happy about it. On the contrary, on several occasions she threatened to follow him, to take part in the fight. Only her mother prevented her from doing so, and the long look, the firm nods that had been exchanged between Andromeda and Remus suddenly took on a whole new meaning for Tonks.
“I should be there,” she raged on one occasion, once more a child forbidden to play outside. “I’m an Auror, I’m a bloody good Auror, and they’re going to need all the help they can get!”
“You are an Auror who gave birth not three months ago,” her mother crisply reminded her. “You’re out of shape, out of practice and you’re a danger to yourself and everyone else if you go.”
There was more truth in the argument than Tonks wanted to admit, so she ignored it, tried again. “I need to be there,” she said. “Remus…”
“Remus trusted you to keep your word,” Andromeda interrupted. “He is trusting you to raise your son if…” Suddenly Andromeda’s voice faltered and she looked down, twisting her hands together. “… if the worst should happen. I did not raise you to break your promises.” Slowly, she walked over to the white basket in the corner of the room, scooping up Teddy in her arms. “Your son needs you.”
It wasn’t the words that convinced Tonks, nor was it the weight of her son in her arms as her mother passed him over. Rather, it was the catch in her mother’s voice, the way her words had faltered, suddenly reminding Tonks that not long before she’d become a mother, her mother had become a widow.
How many nights had her parents sat here, in this very room, waiting for her to come home, not knowing if she would? How must they have felt when they were notified by Mad-Eye Moody, two years ago, that she’d been admitted to St Mungo’s? When, mere months ago, Harry and Hagrid had crash-landed on their front lawn and been unable to tell them of her whereabouts?
She wanted to go to Hogwarts, wanted it with an ache that was fierce and powerful.
But suddenly the notion of leaving her mother and son waiting for her return was more than she could bear.
So she did the only thing she could do.
She sat down on the couch, her son on her lap, his weight far more effective than any body-bind curse her mother had threatened her with, and waited.
Evening turned to night.
And they waited.
Night turned to morning.
And still, they waited, not sleeping, not eating, eyes torn between the sleeping child and the clock on the mantel, trying to convince themselves that no news was good news, that if something had happened, if the worst had happened, some news would come to them.
The fear that there was no-one left alive to tell remained unspoken.
Finally, there was the unmistakable sound of footsteps outside, of a hand on the door.
Andromeda and Tonks exchanged a look, a slow nod. Both standing, Andromeda pushed the basket out of sight behind the couch as Tonks pressed a kiss to Teddy’s forehead and laid him gently inside it, praying he wouldn’t stir. He continued to sleep, and when she turned away from him, she took her wand from inside her robes, pointing it in the same direction as Andromeda was pointing her wand.
Slowly, as if in slow motion, the door opened, and someone stepped in.
There was a moment of silence.
Then Tonks screamed, Andromeda let out a gasp that was half-sob and Teddy was crying at being so rudely awoken and Tonks didn’t care because she’d dropped her wand and had flung her arms around Remus’s neck. The feeling of his arms around her, his hands at her back was the most wonderful sensation she could have ever dreamed of, and she was dimly aware of two voices saying over and over, “I love you.”
When she pulled back, his robes were wet with her tears, hers with his, and they would have been content to stay like that, staring into one another’s eyes, but Andromeda’s whisper broke the spell.
“Remus… Remus, what happened?”
Remus blinked, looking shell-shocked, as if he’d just realised there was someone else in the room. He swallowed hard, gaze going from Andromeda, holding a still whimpering Teddy in her arms, to Tonks, then back to Teddy. Finally, he spoke.
“It is over.”
Tonks looked at her mother, then back to him again. “You mean…” She was almost afraid to hope, afraid the ambiguity of his statement was because the worst had happened.
It seemed years before Remus spoke again. “Voldemort is dead,” he said simply, and once again, Andromeda let out a gasp that was more like a sob, and Tonks was gripping Remus’s arm so tightly that she was sure she would draw blood.
“You mean… Harry…”
She could scarcely put the idea into words, but Remus met her gaze, nodding. “It’s over,” he said again, and this time, tears filled his eyes, rolled slowly down his cheeks. He embraced her once more, then walked over to Andromeda, hugging her before he took Teddy from her. Pressing his lips to the child’s forehead, he moved to the couch, sat heavily down upon it and held his son as if his very life depended on it.
Tonks stood watching them, tears rolling down her own cheeks, and she was hardly aware of her mother approaching her, hugging her before pushing her towards the couch. Once she was moving, though, her feet carried her seemingly of their own accord, and then she was beside him, holding him, holding their baby, and her mother was sitting beside her, head upon her shoulder, one hand running over her hair.
There were a million questions running through her head, but those would come later. There would be time, in the days and years ahead to talk of the battle, to piece together the chain of events that had led him back here, to them, time to grieve for the dead and celebrate with the living.
But that would all come later.
For now, she had her mother and husband beside her, a hungry son pulling at her robes demanding to be fed; her family around her, with a world of tomorrows before them.
In the end, that was all that mattered.