really belated gift fic for Underlucius, eventually slash, chapter 8 of 8, Part B
They stared at each other for several long minutes. Finally, Tonks spoke again. "I put a tracking charm on Remus's wand, just in case. The Ministry doesn't know about it. Yet. But they will, if you don't explain what you've done to Remus and why he looks so bad."
Snape glared at her. "I see you prefer a personal vendetta to proper legal action, Miss Tonks. Lupin looks bad because he's dead."
"But - he's breathing," Tonks stammered.
"Because I'm helping him breathe, stupid bint," Snape said through clenched teeth.
She stepped closer, holding her wand in a death grip. "What have you done to him?"
"Nothing. Greyback and few others had a bit of fun with him. I have saved him and Draco. Unlike you, I might add. You left us in the middle of trouble and never bothered to bring that bezoar," Snape hissed.
Tonks switched her wand to one hand, to fumble for something in the side pocket of the backpack. She threw the small object at Snape's feet. "Here's your bloody bezoar. I couldn't come earlier. Percy Weasley chose this night to catch up on his paperwork, and he spent the night at the Ministry. When he saw me in disguise, he dragged me into Scrimgeour's office, and flooded me with a ton of papers to sign. I Apparated to Acanthia Way as soon as I could, with an armload of healing potions and clean clothes and everything, only to see the house - my house - on fire under a fucking big Dark Mark. So, yeah, it took me a while to find you, but I think it wasn't entirely my fault." She wiped some angry tears from her eyes while she shrugged out of the backpack, and slammed it on top of the wall. Something cracked loudly inside the bag. "Damn, I think I've broken something."3
Snape picked up the bezoar, and threw it back to her. "Take it. I don't need it anymore. I did all right without your help."
Tonks gritted her teeth. "You didn't do all right, because he's dying."
"Oh, shut up," Snape hissed. "I don't care about your tantrums. Lupin isn't beyond help. I used hemlock; does that ring a bell? You've passed your Potions NEWT, you should know."
Tonks shook her head and wiped another, fresh stream of tears off her face, and stepped closer. "I don't have time for this, Snape. I'm taking him to Madam Pomfrey. She'll know what to do. Stand back. If it wasn't for the Pocket Pensieve, I'd have Stupefied you - or worse - a long time ago."
"If you could handle stressful situations a bit better, and if you had bothered to actually study during your Auror training, you would know that interrupting first-aid charms can make the patient's condition deteriorate more rapidly," Snape spat. "But as your obvious distress must have blocked your ability to employ logic, I shall enlighten you about hemlock, just this once."
"Arrogant git," Tonks whispered.
Snape ignored her. "There are two kinds of hemlock: poison hemlock and water hemlock. Water hemlock, also known as spotted cowbane or Cicuta maculata, looks like parsnip. It's a potent neurotoxin, a lethal poison, even in small doses. As for the symptoms, water hemlock causes violent, painful seizures and heart palpitations. Victims usually die within fifteen minutes after ingesting the plant. On the other hand, the so-called poison hemlock or Conium maculatum has gained a certain notoriety as the plant the Greeks used to kill Socrates with. In truth, the active ingredient of poison hemlock is a much milder neurotoxin than that of water hemlock. Poison hemlock is very easily recognisable, both by sight and by smell. It looks like parsley, but the leaves have a musty odor when crushed. Poison hemlock's active ingredient coniine blocks pain receptors and induces numbness in the limbs, which reaches the lungs and the heart slowly. Of course, when the lungs are immobilised by the poison, the victim begins suffocating, and might fall into a coma even before his heart stops. There is usually no sign of struggle, as the limbs are paralysed long before the onset of agony. As a further benefit, the mind of the victim is usually clear and active until the very end, since coniine never has a chance to reach the brain."
By the end of Snape's lecture, Tonks seemed to have forgotten about the wand in her hand. Both of her palms were plastered to her ears. She was staring at Snape as if she had seen a basilisk. Except that she looked almost as angry as Sirius Black the last time when they fought. "You've given him hemlock, and you want me to guess which kind," she said in a gravelly voice that was most unbecoming when someone heard it froma woman's mouth. "Bastard. It's all just a fucking game for you. But I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear you."
Snape was expecting her to react like that, and did what was necessary. "Petrificus Totalus."
Tonks fell to her side in the grass like a log of wood. Snape padded over to her, and picked up her wand.
"It has never been a game for me," he said. "If it had been, I would be but a mere pawn of history. Maybe it would be easier, but I've always desired greatness. So I've been studying history since I learned to read. I used to think history would be my path to fame and grandeur. Now I know too much about history and a bit more than necessary about people to fool myself. There used to be a time when I already knew too much about history, but too little about people. History is a strange creature. It never ends, but always repeats itself, or so Muggles say. I agree with them wholeheartedly. History is always the same, people are the only variables. And now, although I loathe repetition, I must take your wand - again - for my own petty reasons. I would really like to keep Lupin's wand, it works better for me than yours, but in that case, he'd have to buy a wand, and he can't afford that, being the homeless stray he is." He sat down beside Tonks on the ground. "But I have strayed away from the subject. I was talking about poison hemlock. You see, when I first heard about Socrates - I was nineteen, and I didn't know much about Muggle history until then - I was astonished why he didn't ask his friends to massage his heart. Because, you see, coniine is excreted from the body within two to six hours, depending on the amount ingested. It is commonly held that with the help of artificial respiration and heart massage, the poisoned individual might survive the critical stage."
He briefly told Tonks about the revel, and the spiked butterbeer, leaving out the worst things. After that, he released her, gave her Lupin's wand, and Disapparated.
She stood there, all forlorn, until she heard Remus groan.
She rushed by his side, muttering under her breath. "Damn you, Snape. I hate you. I hate you so much."
*
Remus felt exhausted. He lay curled up on his side under crisp white bedsheets. Briefly, he wondered if the otherworld was supposed to look like that. But after that first moment of dizziness, as he looked around, the different shades of white around him resolved themselves into the walls of the Hogwarts Infirmary.
He reached up and patted his head and face. There was no trace of the burns. His teeth weren't missing either.
Soon, he became aware of a ridiculously bright and cheerful-looking turquoise blob by his bedside. It had been hovering over him since he woke up. He blinked several times, and the blob slowly sharpened and changed into Tonks's beaming face.
"Oh, Remus, I'm so glad you're awake."
He gave her a wan smile. "Yet another lovely colour, I see."
She shook her head playfully, so fast that her fine wisps of hair moved about her face in a blur. Sirius used to do something like that in dog form, only the hair used to be heavier and more unkempt.
"I've made up with the Anglia," she announced. "I've charmed it back to turquoise, and the colour did seem much nicer in daylight than in the dark, so I thought it might be worth a try. I've got your wand, by the way. It's on the bedside table."
Remus was too tired to turn his head where she pointed. He wanted to sleep. It felt good to be in bed, among people who knew him, in a place where he didn't have to play pretend.
Except that he did. At least until Tonks was gone.
"How did you get me away from the Death Eaters?" he asked.
She pulled a face. "It wasn't me, you know, I was not exactly the epitome of professionalism last night. It was Snape."
Remus's eyes widened at that. he repeated it in his head. Snape saved me. It rang so wrong, on so many levels.
"I see." He turned towards the wall. The wall was cool and quiet and reassuring; a friendly, solid mass that didn't ask anything. There were small cracks on the plaster, but they had been there when Remus was just a small boy, and they were familiar and welcoming, just like the little black spider that was inching down the wall. Remus knew that the largest crack in the plaster was home to a family of tiny black spiders. They used to spend all day hiding in the crack, and scuttled outside only when there were no people near. Remus had asked Hagrid about them, and the giant had said they sould distinguish the scent of humans from the scent of animals.
They were always there on the wall for Remus.
Meanwhile, the silence gew uneasy. Tonks was squirming on her chair. Finally, she pulled the chair closer to the bed and bent forward. "Can I ask you something? About the, er, rape?"
Remus closed his eyes and didn't reply.
She repeated the question. "Really, Remus, can I ask you something? It's important, Remus. It's not just, er, that I would like to hear your voice, or something. I really think we should talk about what happened. I'm not asking you as just a friend, you know. I'm an Auror as well. And as an Auror, I need to know as much as possible about those Death Eaters."
"Tonks," Remus's voice was almost muffled by the pillows he'd burrowed his face in. "I was under Imperius most of the time, and there were more than thirty Death Eaters. I remember Lucius Malfoy and Fenrir Greyback, but that's about it."
Tonks scowled at Remus's back. Not that she was angry with Remus, she just couldn't understand how he could be so cool about the whole issue. "Did Snape, I mean, did he hurt you as well?"
Remus's head snapped up. His eyes were narrowed. "What? No. Not that I can remember. What makes you think that? You said he'd saved me."
"That doesn't mean he didn't have to pretend that he enjoyed hurting you," Tonks insisted. "You know what he's like."
"Do I?" Remus asked sharply. "I don't think so. But I'm positive he didn't take part in that. I think he found me too repugnant. He refused to touch me at all."
"Or just didn't trust himself not to come in his pants if he did," Tonks mumbled, turning away.
Remus frowned. "Sorry? Couldn't quite catch that."
"I said you could always trust him to be an arrogant git."
"Oh."
There was another long, uncomfortable silence.
Finally, Tonks stood up. "I must go now. Madam Pomfrey will be back soon with a new batch of your medicine."
"Wait - does Harry know about me?" he asked.
Her face had been hopeful for a second, when he asked her to wait. But it was over now. Remus hadn't noticed anything.
She shook her head. "I don't think so. He's had enough to deal with, so I didn't tell him."
He offered her a tentative smile. "Thanks."
She smiled back, all hints of her previous worries and hopes and disappointment and misery wiped off of her face. "You're welcome. But I really have to go now. I'll come back later, I promise."
She turned to go, but Remus's voice stopped her. "Tonks?"
"Yeah?"
"Didn't Severus tell you - "
She was careful to show her back to him. She didn't want him to see her face. "Told me what?"
"The reason why. Why he saved me."
Tonks thought of Snape's legendary attack on the Shrieking Shack in Harry's third year. When he saw Remus hug Sirius. Snape's sneering comment about her new Patronus, and the glances of half-amused disgust at her hair (it didn't matter whether it was green or mousy brown). Thinly veiled jealousy. Rushing to Remus's help, refusing even to touch him. Risking his own life for 'the mangy beast' - how ironic, after he had murdered the Headmaster.
The reasons were all there, bloody obvious.
She shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
Remus closed his eyes. "Well, that's - succinct. I just can't understand. It's not fair, you know, that Dumbledore, who was a hundred percent more important than I, has just died and I'm here."
"I think it's obvious; he did it for the order," Tonks said. "Now that we have the Pocket Pensieve, the Order will soon know we can trust Snape. Sort of. It would be a bad move for him to let another Order member die."
"Hm. That sounds logical," he mumbled, half-asleep already.
" Well, goodbye," she said. "See you tomorrow."
NOTES
[3] A reference to The Fellowship of the Ring (the film).
Snape glared at her. "I see you prefer a personal vendetta to proper legal action, Miss Tonks. Lupin looks bad because he's dead."
"But - he's breathing," Tonks stammered.
"Because I'm helping him breathe, stupid bint," Snape said through clenched teeth.
She stepped closer, holding her wand in a death grip. "What have you done to him?"
"Nothing. Greyback and few others had a bit of fun with him. I have saved him and Draco. Unlike you, I might add. You left us in the middle of trouble and never bothered to bring that bezoar," Snape hissed.
Tonks switched her wand to one hand, to fumble for something in the side pocket of the backpack. She threw the small object at Snape's feet. "Here's your bloody bezoar. I couldn't come earlier. Percy Weasley chose this night to catch up on his paperwork, and he spent the night at the Ministry. When he saw me in disguise, he dragged me into Scrimgeour's office, and flooded me with a ton of papers to sign. I Apparated to Acanthia Way as soon as I could, with an armload of healing potions and clean clothes and everything, only to see the house - my house - on fire under a fucking big Dark Mark. So, yeah, it took me a while to find you, but I think it wasn't entirely my fault." She wiped some angry tears from her eyes while she shrugged out of the backpack, and slammed it on top of the wall. Something cracked loudly inside the bag. "Damn, I think I've broken something."3
Snape picked up the bezoar, and threw it back to her. "Take it. I don't need it anymore. I did all right without your help."
Tonks gritted her teeth. "You didn't do all right, because he's dying."
"Oh, shut up," Snape hissed. "I don't care about your tantrums. Lupin isn't beyond help. I used hemlock; does that ring a bell? You've passed your Potions NEWT, you should know."
Tonks shook her head and wiped another, fresh stream of tears off her face, and stepped closer. "I don't have time for this, Snape. I'm taking him to Madam Pomfrey. She'll know what to do. Stand back. If it wasn't for the Pocket Pensieve, I'd have Stupefied you - or worse - a long time ago."
"If you could handle stressful situations a bit better, and if you had bothered to actually study during your Auror training, you would know that interrupting first-aid charms can make the patient's condition deteriorate more rapidly," Snape spat. "But as your obvious distress must have blocked your ability to employ logic, I shall enlighten you about hemlock, just this once."
"Arrogant git," Tonks whispered.
Snape ignored her. "There are two kinds of hemlock: poison hemlock and water hemlock. Water hemlock, also known as spotted cowbane or Cicuta maculata, looks like parsnip. It's a potent neurotoxin, a lethal poison, even in small doses. As for the symptoms, water hemlock causes violent, painful seizures and heart palpitations. Victims usually die within fifteen minutes after ingesting the plant. On the other hand, the so-called poison hemlock or Conium maculatum has gained a certain notoriety as the plant the Greeks used to kill Socrates with. In truth, the active ingredient of poison hemlock is a much milder neurotoxin than that of water hemlock. Poison hemlock is very easily recognisable, both by sight and by smell. It looks like parsley, but the leaves have a musty odor when crushed. Poison hemlock's active ingredient coniine blocks pain receptors and induces numbness in the limbs, which reaches the lungs and the heart slowly. Of course, when the lungs are immobilised by the poison, the victim begins suffocating, and might fall into a coma even before his heart stops. There is usually no sign of struggle, as the limbs are paralysed long before the onset of agony. As a further benefit, the mind of the victim is usually clear and active until the very end, since coniine never has a chance to reach the brain."
By the end of Snape's lecture, Tonks seemed to have forgotten about the wand in her hand. Both of her palms were plastered to her ears. She was staring at Snape as if she had seen a basilisk. Except that she looked almost as angry as Sirius Black the last time when they fought. "You've given him hemlock, and you want me to guess which kind," she said in a gravelly voice that was most unbecoming when someone heard it froma woman's mouth. "Bastard. It's all just a fucking game for you. But I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear you."
Snape was expecting her to react like that, and did what was necessary. "Petrificus Totalus."
Tonks fell to her side in the grass like a log of wood. Snape padded over to her, and picked up her wand.
"It has never been a game for me," he said. "If it had been, I would be but a mere pawn of history. Maybe it would be easier, but I've always desired greatness. So I've been studying history since I learned to read. I used to think history would be my path to fame and grandeur. Now I know too much about history and a bit more than necessary about people to fool myself. There used to be a time when I already knew too much about history, but too little about people. History is a strange creature. It never ends, but always repeats itself, or so Muggles say. I agree with them wholeheartedly. History is always the same, people are the only variables. And now, although I loathe repetition, I must take your wand - again - for my own petty reasons. I would really like to keep Lupin's wand, it works better for me than yours, but in that case, he'd have to buy a wand, and he can't afford that, being the homeless stray he is." He sat down beside Tonks on the ground. "But I have strayed away from the subject. I was talking about poison hemlock. You see, when I first heard about Socrates - I was nineteen, and I didn't know much about Muggle history until then - I was astonished why he didn't ask his friends to massage his heart. Because, you see, coniine is excreted from the body within two to six hours, depending on the amount ingested. It is commonly held that with the help of artificial respiration and heart massage, the poisoned individual might survive the critical stage."
He briefly told Tonks about the revel, and the spiked butterbeer, leaving out the worst things. After that, he released her, gave her Lupin's wand, and Disapparated.
She stood there, all forlorn, until she heard Remus groan.
She rushed by his side, muttering under her breath. "Damn you, Snape. I hate you. I hate you so much."
*
Remus felt exhausted. He lay curled up on his side under crisp white bedsheets. Briefly, he wondered if the otherworld was supposed to look like that. But after that first moment of dizziness, as he looked around, the different shades of white around him resolved themselves into the walls of the Hogwarts Infirmary.
He reached up and patted his head and face. There was no trace of the burns. His teeth weren't missing either.
Soon, he became aware of a ridiculously bright and cheerful-looking turquoise blob by his bedside. It had been hovering over him since he woke up. He blinked several times, and the blob slowly sharpened and changed into Tonks's beaming face.
"Oh, Remus, I'm so glad you're awake."
He gave her a wan smile. "Yet another lovely colour, I see."
She shook her head playfully, so fast that her fine wisps of hair moved about her face in a blur. Sirius used to do something like that in dog form, only the hair used to be heavier and more unkempt.
"I've made up with the Anglia," she announced. "I've charmed it back to turquoise, and the colour did seem much nicer in daylight than in the dark, so I thought it might be worth a try. I've got your wand, by the way. It's on the bedside table."
Remus was too tired to turn his head where she pointed. He wanted to sleep. It felt good to be in bed, among people who knew him, in a place where he didn't have to play pretend.
Except that he did. At least until Tonks was gone.
"How did you get me away from the Death Eaters?" he asked.
She pulled a face. "It wasn't me, you know, I was not exactly the epitome of professionalism last night. It was Snape."
Remus's eyes widened at that. he repeated it in his head. Snape saved me. It rang so wrong, on so many levels.
"I see." He turned towards the wall. The wall was cool and quiet and reassuring; a friendly, solid mass that didn't ask anything. There were small cracks on the plaster, but they had been there when Remus was just a small boy, and they were familiar and welcoming, just like the little black spider that was inching down the wall. Remus knew that the largest crack in the plaster was home to a family of tiny black spiders. They used to spend all day hiding in the crack, and scuttled outside only when there were no people near. Remus had asked Hagrid about them, and the giant had said they sould distinguish the scent of humans from the scent of animals.
They were always there on the wall for Remus.
Meanwhile, the silence gew uneasy. Tonks was squirming on her chair. Finally, she pulled the chair closer to the bed and bent forward. "Can I ask you something? About the, er, rape?"
Remus closed his eyes and didn't reply.
She repeated the question. "Really, Remus, can I ask you something? It's important, Remus. It's not just, er, that I would like to hear your voice, or something. I really think we should talk about what happened. I'm not asking you as just a friend, you know. I'm an Auror as well. And as an Auror, I need to know as much as possible about those Death Eaters."
"Tonks," Remus's voice was almost muffled by the pillows he'd burrowed his face in. "I was under Imperius most of the time, and there were more than thirty Death Eaters. I remember Lucius Malfoy and Fenrir Greyback, but that's about it."
Tonks scowled at Remus's back. Not that she was angry with Remus, she just couldn't understand how he could be so cool about the whole issue. "Did Snape, I mean, did he hurt you as well?"
Remus's head snapped up. His eyes were narrowed. "What? No. Not that I can remember. What makes you think that? You said he'd saved me."
"That doesn't mean he didn't have to pretend that he enjoyed hurting you," Tonks insisted. "You know what he's like."
"Do I?" Remus asked sharply. "I don't think so. But I'm positive he didn't take part in that. I think he found me too repugnant. He refused to touch me at all."
"Or just didn't trust himself not to come in his pants if he did," Tonks mumbled, turning away.
Remus frowned. "Sorry? Couldn't quite catch that."
"I said you could always trust him to be an arrogant git."
"Oh."
There was another long, uncomfortable silence.
Finally, Tonks stood up. "I must go now. Madam Pomfrey will be back soon with a new batch of your medicine."
"Wait - does Harry know about me?" he asked.
Her face had been hopeful for a second, when he asked her to wait. But it was over now. Remus hadn't noticed anything.
She shook her head. "I don't think so. He's had enough to deal with, so I didn't tell him."
He offered her a tentative smile. "Thanks."
She smiled back, all hints of her previous worries and hopes and disappointment and misery wiped off of her face. "You're welcome. But I really have to go now. I'll come back later, I promise."
She turned to go, but Remus's voice stopped her. "Tonks?"
"Yeah?"
"Didn't Severus tell you - "
She was careful to show her back to him. She didn't want him to see her face. "Told me what?"
"The reason why. Why he saved me."
Tonks thought of Snape's legendary attack on the Shrieking Shack in Harry's third year. When he saw Remus hug Sirius. Snape's sneering comment about her new Patronus, and the glances of half-amused disgust at her hair (it didn't matter whether it was green or mousy brown). Thinly veiled jealousy. Rushing to Remus's help, refusing even to touch him. Risking his own life for 'the mangy beast' - how ironic, after he had murdered the Headmaster.
The reasons were all there, bloody obvious.
She shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
Remus closed his eyes. "Well, that's - succinct. I just can't understand. It's not fair, you know, that Dumbledore, who was a hundred percent more important than I, has just died and I'm here."
"I think it's obvious; he did it for the order," Tonks said. "Now that we have the Pocket Pensieve, the Order will soon know we can trust Snape. Sort of. It would be a bad move for him to let another Order member die."
"Hm. That sounds logical," he mumbled, half-asleep already.
" Well, goodbye," she said. "See you tomorrow."
NOTES
[3] A reference to The Fellowship of the Ring (the film).