First Noels and Bleak Midwinters
Title: First Noels and Bleak Midwinters
Author: phoenixfyre13
Ratings/Warnings: PG, some very mild language. No warnings that I can think of.
Prompts: Letter
I’ve traveled across this country, crossed the waters deep and wide
Made lots of friends and memories, brought joy to others’ lives
It’s Christmas time again, another year has come and gone
And I can’t keep from wonderin’ how the old folks are at home
--With Bells On, Dolly Parton
Word Count: 5,000ish
Summary: As the years go by, Remus’ gift to Tonks on their first Christmas together brings joy, pain and comfort in a world that seems to be falling apart at the seams.
Author’s Note: Angst/Drama/Romance, OotP/HBP/DH era. My fics refuse to be pigeonholed! Or maybe I just refuse to commit…Wow! So, I totally beat any word count I have ever done that wasn’t an academic paper. I actually had to edit to get it under the limit! I had a lot of fun writing this one. Hope you enjoy! Happy Holidays!
December 22, 1995
The brisk wind beat at her back as Nymphadora Tonks swept into the dim hallway at Grimmauld Place, her cheeks flushed pink with the cold of the bitter December night. She managed to shove the door closed against the blast of cold and took a moment to catch her breath.
The crackling fire in the library called to her chilled bones, as well as the figure she knew she would find inhabiting the overstuffed chair silhouetted against the flames. She grinned at the thought of him, most likely wrapped up in another of the library’s musty titles, as he had been almost every night she had returned from duty.
Remus. Her Remus.
She could hardly believe they had been together six months, considering how bloody hard it had been to get him to agree to even take her out in the first place. Her heart had melted at the sight of him, slightly self-conscious but smiling at her nonetheless, a picnic basket dangling from his right hand and a bedsheet draped over his left arm. “I thought we could enjoy a day in the park.”
It had become a monthly ritual, usually on the anniversary of that first picnic. Even last month, the two hadn’t let the brisk November cold ruin their routine, casting warming charms on each other, laughing at the strange looks from passersby, and cuddling close to one another, making the warming charms a moot point and the well-worn bedsheet a nice touch of irony.
Tonight was their six-month anniversary, and for the first time she had to stand him up. Ever since Arthur’s attack and everyone’s arrival at Grimmauld Place, her Order shifts had become more frequent and more tense with each passing day. She had just come off her latest one after having tracked a Death Eater all day through Diagon Alley, only to find out the git had actually been Christmas shopping for his ruddy family. All that effort - and missing her picnic with Remus - for a whole lot of nothing.
But there he was, sitting patiently in front of the fire, his face illuminated by the glowing embers and the twinkling lights of the tree beside him.
“Hello, my dear,” he said, standing to wrap his arms around her and pull her close. “How was your shift?”
“Bloody boring, that’s how,” she grumbled half-heartedly. Her frustration was quickly dissipating in the arms of her lover, and she could feel herself relaxing against his lean frame. She tilted her face up for a kiss, which he willingly imparted.
After a too-short blissful moment, Remus pulled back and smiled gently down at her. “I have your Christmas present.”
“But Remus,” she protested as he moved away from her towards the tree. “I haven’t gotten anything for you yet. And Christmas isn’t for another three days!”
Remus smiled back at her wryly. “I have a feeling, my dear Dora, that you will not be joining me for Christmas. The Order has the very best timing, it seems.”
Tonks snorted. “Yeah, right. Well, I never was one to say no to a present.”
Remus chuckled as he approached, a small box in his hand, wrapped carefully with bright red paper and a pristine white bow. She smiled ruefully up at him as she took it. “I hope you don’t expect such a wonderfully wrapped gift from me, Remus Lupin,” she scolded, even as she tore into the paper. Inside, she found a lovely carved wooden box, a woodland scene with fairies and nymphs adorning the top. She grinned as she opened the box to find a blank piece of parchment, a bottle of ink and a quill.
Remus must have read the moment of confusion in her face as he hurried to explain. “It’s an enchanted letter,” he explained. “I have the other set. We can use it to write to one another when you are out on your assignments, when we can’t always be together.” He smiled as he pushed back a lock of her festively red hair. “I know it’s not easy being with a werewolf, especially one who can’t afford the most elaborate present, but -“
He was cut off as Tonks threw herself into his arms, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It’s perfect, darling,” she whispered, maintaining the steel grip around his neck. “I absolutely love it.”
She felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. “Well, I am very glad you like it, but I would love to be able to breathe properly again.”
Tonks let go quickly, smoothing her hand down his chest. “Sorry.”
Remus caught up her hand in his, kissing the back of it. “I do have another surprise for you, in the kitchen.” He pulled her along, and she felt the tears well up again as she walked through the door and surveyed the room around her.
“Oh, Remus, you remembered,” she breathed. The long wooden table and chairs were gone, replaced by a very familiar bedsheet. A hundred candles illuminated the space, casting dancing shadows along every wall and crevice. In the center of the sheet was a picnic basket, open to reveal all the makings for late night sandwiches, potato crisps and two bottles of Butterbeer.
“I know it’s not the park, but I still wanted to do it for you.”
Tonks turned back to him, eyes shining in the candlelight. “It’s the most perfect Christmas I have ever had,” she murmered, taking his hand in her own and squeezing it hard. “Honestly, Remus. The best ever.”
Remus led her to the sheet, pulling her down to sit with him. “For me as well,” he whispered, running a trail of kisses down her neck.
Tonks shivered as she closed her eyes. “Mm. What about the food?”
Remus pulled back and looked at her with eyes that made white heat flood at the base of her spine. “I think it’ll keep,” he whispered.
“Me too,” she replied, grinning at him wickedly. “Merry Christmas.”
He groaned as she ran her hand up his thigh. “Merry Christmas, indeed.”
And Remus proceeded to improve upon Tonks’ already perfect Yuletide.
_________________________________________________________________________________
December 25, 1995
Remus sighed as he trudged into his room at 12 Grimmauld Place, resigned to spending yet another Christmas alone. He was very glad that he and Dora had gotten to celebrate the week before, as so much of her time now was spent on shifts for the Order and trying to juggle all her assignments at the Ministry besides. They had seen each other briefly today, but barely even long enough for a hello and a peck on the cheek.
He shrugged out of his shabby overcoat, ruefully realizing it was time to patch the thing again, when he spotted the box on his bed, a glowing piece of parchment lying on top. He recognized the signal from his enchanted letter that he had a new message, and his heart skipped for a moment as he moved to pick it up. A smile spread across his face at the words scribbled on the parchment in Tonks’ careless handwriting.
Wotcher, love.
Well, I hope this letter finds you a sight bit better than I am at the moment. Kingsley won’t shut his bloody trap about the new set of Auror robes his mother bought him for Christmas, and how well they fit, and the delicious bread pudding she sent with it. He’s driving me bonkers, Remus, I swear. I’d like to take his bread pudding and shove it up his - well, you know.
Besides the fact that Shacklebolt won’t shut it and it’s cold enough out here to freeze my ruddy socks off, things are going well. Well, of course, meaning boring.
I wish I could be there with you right now. I left my Christmas present for you on the bed. Remember, will you, that it’s the thought that counts? I never did well at all those householdey things my mum was so good at, but I thought you might like something I made myself.
I love you, miss you, and can’t wait to come home to you. Please know if I could be anywhere in the world, it would be with you right now.
Tonks
Remus smiled softly as he set aside the letter, fingering her signature reverently before turning to the box. He lifted the lid to find a maroon jumper, neatly folded, lying in a bed of tissue paper. “Oh, Dora, my love,” he murmered, lifting it out and holding it in front of him. He could see the flawed areas where her knitting spell had undoubtedly gone awry, but that only made the gift more special. He knew how much time it must have taken her, and how much she hated knitting. He felt his chest tighten with love for this woman as he slipped the sweater over his head and laid on his -- their -- bed, breathing in her subtle scent in the fibers of the wool.
And that was how she found him hours later, curled up with her sweater still on and her letter clutched firmly in his hand. She smiled at the sight in front of her, dropping her coat on the floor next to the bed and curling up beside him, watching his face until she herself succumbed to sleep.
Outside, gusts of snow beat against the walls, a premonition of the struggles to come, as the two lovers took a moment of respite from the weary world around them.
__________________________________________________________________________________
December 25, 1996
Tonks could hear the sound of her parents’ laughter floating down the hallway from their dining room as they prepared the table for their family Christmas dinner. It was a sound she hadn’t heard much since she had walked through the door that evening, and the light giggle, brief and airy, from her mother sent through her a flood of emotions she could hardly reconcile.
How could anyone be happy when she was so bloody miserable?
She glanced at herself once more in the mirror, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt, her heart sinking as she realized she looked worse, if that was even possible. Life for her had ended six months before, when her and Remus’ ritual picnic had turned into the stuff of nightmares. Instead of it becoming a day where she could try to put the tragic events of two weeks’ prior to rest for just a few hours, she found Remus standing in the kitchen, staring at their picnic basket as if it was a venomous snake. And somehow, in that moment, she knew. Even before he said those words, walked out the door, shattered her heart, she knew that the fairy tale was over.
And now she was living in a fog, each passing moment existing not because she desired it but simply because her body unconsciously took one breath after another.
She looked down at the dresser in her parents’ guest room, her hands moving involuntarily towards the carved wooden box sitting benignly in front of her. What had made her bring the bloody thing with her tonight, of all nights, she would never know. Maybe she needed to know he was still alive. Maybe she wanted to prove to him that she was. But there it was, that damned piece of parchment, ink bottle and quill, waiting patiently for her to write.
She shook her head and walked away. What in Merlin’s name would she say? Could she say? He had left her, after all. He was being so bloody noble about everything. What could she possibly say to him to break down that wall of self-loathing and fear that he had managed to erect around himself?
Nothing. There was nothing she could say. But there was plenty she wanted to say.
She set her chin, striding back across the room and snatching the contents from the box. She began to scribble furiously, relieved when the words shrank themselves to make more room as she poured out her soul. She figured he might need a magnifying glass by the time she was through with him.
And she sincerely hoped the parchment wouldn’t show him the tears that dripped helplessly onto the pages.
__________________________________________________________________________________
After all the Weasleys were in bed and Celestina Warbuck had crooned her last note for the WWN, Remus remained in the Burrow’s cozy living room, staring wordlessly into the fire. He had known the holiday would feel empty without her in it, but he hadn’t known how much until now.
And her Patronus had changed? What in Merlin’s name did that mean? When he had walked out of the kitchen at Grimmauld six long months ago, his chest aching and mind screaming at him to turn back, he had thought she would heal. She was young, strong. She would find someone else, and then all he would become was a bitter memory, something she tried not to remember. But now, it seemed that she could not forget.
He shifted in his chair, rubbing his hands down his face. Merlin, he felt so old. And now he had to return to the pack, before they became suspicious. He stood and groaned slightly as his aching legs protested, and he trudged his way to the small broom closet just inside the door.
At the bottom sat his carpetbag of meager possessions, which Molly and Arthur had graciously agreed to keep in their possession while he was on assignment. He opened the bag and pulled out the two items on top.
He brought the worn maroon sweater up to his face, breathing in the barely-there scent of his Dora. He finally caught it, a mix of sandalwood and rose that almost had him weeping aloud. He slipped it over his head, finding some comfort in reliving the past as he took the second object over to the small but tidy writing desk.
He opened his box, pulling out quill and paper, when that same glow he had come to anticipate but hadn’t seen in six months filled the box. With trembling fingers, he opened the parchment to find words flowing onto the paper like a waterfall, the smudged ink and the familiar handwriting causing his heart to turn over in his chest. Sucking in a breath, he began to read.
I don’t know if you will read this, and right now I don’t really care. I have some things I need to say, and I’m going to say them, whether you read this or not.
The day you walked out on me, on us, I thought it was the worst day of my life. And I keep thinking that, day after day, this one is the worst. But it’s never as bad as the next. And it pisses me off. Do you know why? Because I know why you did it. I know why you walked away. It would be so much easier if I didn’t understand, or if you were just some prat that didn’t love me. But it’s none of those things. I know you still love me. And it’s not that I don’t understand, because I do. I get it. You think you’re being noble, that you want to do what’s right for me. You think you are afraid of what you could do to me.
But really, Remus? I know that it’s yourself you are afraid for, more than me. You are afraid of what loving me might mean for yourself. You might actually have to open up to someone, let someone else take care of you, let someone else beyond that stupid wall you put up between yourself and the rest of the world. I know that it’s because when you look at yourself, you see a monster.
But you never once stopped to ask me what I saw. Because if you had, you would know that I see that beautiful man that I fell in love with. I see a kind, brilliant, funny wizard who got a rotten deal but has managed to do some good for the world anyway. I see everything you are the other thirty days of the month. And that’s why I am so pissed. Because I can see it, and you can’t. Because the rest of the bloody world can see it, and you look the other way.
I can’t make you love yourself. That is a journey you are going to have to embark on yourself. I can’t even make you come back to me. Because, Remus, it’s what I want. Do not give me that rubbish about being too old, or poor, or dangerous, because I have told you once and I will tell you again - I don’t care. I fell in love with you, not whatever image of a man it is you think I should be with.
I’ll be waiting. However long it takes, I’ll be waiting.
Love,
Dora
Remus could hardly breathe for the ache in his chest as he finished, clutching tightly to the still-glowing parchment in his hand, finally giving in to the tears that had threatened to choke him for so long he couldn’t remember when they had appeared.
He stayed that way for a very long time, as the snow fell silently outside the frosted window pane.
___________________________________________________________________________________
December 25, 1997
“And that wraps up tonight’s Potterwatch. This is River, wishing all listening a Merry and safe Christmas.” Lee Jordan’s voice disappeared from the airwaves to be replaced by the hiss of static as Tonks turned off the radio in her parents’ kitchen. She pushed herself out of her chair, rubbing her back a little and giving a slight grimace. Her belly had begun to grow in the past two months, and now she laid her hand protectively over the growing mound of her stomach, not for the first time wishing he or she would just stop moving around so much.
She found Andromeda in the living room, fluffing pillows and straightening an already tidy couch. Tonks felt a wave of sorrow and pity wash over her as she watched her mother’s sure, slight hands tremble for a moment over the corner of the couch. Ted Tonks’ flight had hurt both of them, but her mother the most. She could hardly imagine what she would do if Remus were the one running and she was left here to worry and wait.
“Potterwatch is over,” she announced, still watching her mother from the doorway. “Remus should be home anytime now.”
Andromeda nodded, not looking directly at her daughter. “Good,” she said tightly. Finally, she looked up, and Tonks could see the fear and hope mingling in her mother’s eyes as she prepared to ask the question that inevitably came at the end of each Potterwatch broadcast. “Did they say…”
Tonks shook her head quickly. “No, Mum. No word.”
Andromeda let out a sigh that was part relief, part frustration. In this case, no news was most likely good news. Still, on a day like today, knowing that Ted was alive and out there would have been a distinct blessing.
After more than an hour had passed and there was still no word from Remus, Tonks began to worry. She paced the living room floor, chewing on her fingernails as the minutes began to tick by like excruciating hours. Finally, just as Tonks was preparing to grab her coat and venture out irrationally into the snow to find her husband, the front door opened, bringing with it a gust of wind, a dust of snow, and the tall, lean form of the man in question.
“Remus!” Tonks fairly shouted, rushing toward him and helping him off with his coat. “Where in Merlin’s name have you been? Did someone see you? Are you hurt?”
Remus chuckled slightly at his wife’s barrage of questions as he rubbed his hands reassuringly up and down her arms. “I’m fine, love,” he said, smiling down at her. “Just had a delivery to make, that’s all.”
Tonks’ fear turned quickly to anger, and she cuffed him hard on the shoulder. “You had me scared out of my mind, you git!”
“Now, Nymphadora, leave the man alone,” said Andromeda briskly, sweeping in from the kitchen with a hot mug of butterbeer in her hand. “Here, dear, drink this. You must be frozen.”
Remus smiled gratefully at his mother-in-law and took the mug from her. “Thank you, Andromeda.” He had been slightly amazed at how she had embraced him into her family, once the initial shock of the nuptials and his brief time of fear and hesitancy had passed. Ted had always been slightly suspicious, but Andromeda had in her matter-of-fact way made him feel more at home here in this house than anywhere he had lived since his parents had bid him a tearful goodbye on Platform 9 ¾ his first year. Yes, it was a little crowded, and the weight of Ted’s absence hung heavily in the air, but Remus was more at peace with himself now than he had ever been, and the anticipation of this new life coming into the world overshadowed completely any reticence that may have previously existed about having children, especially during these frightening, unsure times. The look on Dora’s face of wonder every time the baby moved, the rush of love he felt every time he held her in his arms and felt the baby bulge between them, the miracle of every moment they spent together planning and hoping and dreaming for this unborn child, made everything that came before and would come after completely worth it because it brought them to this moment.
Tonks brought him out of his reverie by grasping his hand and pulling him towards the sofa. “So, tell me how everyone is doing. I heard Kingsley earlier on the broadcast. Is he doing alright?”
Remus groaned slightly as he sank into the cushions. “He is well, considering the circumstances. Everyone right now is just trying to keep a low profile through the holidays.”
Tonks sighed and studied Remus’ hand still in hers. “I wish I could be more helpful. It’s hard feeling so bloody useless. Especially with Dad out there…”
Remus shifted to look her in the face, but before he could say anything, Andromeda piped in. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nymphadora. You couldn’t help your father right now even if you weren’t pregnant, and you know it. He wants you to take care of yourself and our grandchild, and I don’t need to speak with him to know the truth of that.”
Remus felt a stab of pity for the two women sitting in the room with him, both pairs of eyes shining defiantly, both sets of lips trembling slightly but determined. Dora may have inherited her father’s happy-go-lucky mentality, but down to the core she was her mother’s daughter. Fiery and determined and stubborn were the outcast Black women.
Remus considered the time, and determined enough had passed to give these two remarkable women their presents. He stood and made towards his and Dora’s bedroom. “Darling, where do you keep that present I gave you two years ago?”
Tonks looked flummoxed for a moment, then recovered herself enough to answer. “In the nightstand drawer. What on earth do you want with it?”
In response, Remus returned to the living room, holding the parchment in his hands. To Tonks’ surprise, it was currently glowing light blue, a sure sign it was in use. “Remus…?”
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered, handing her the paper and watching her face transform from confusion to disbelief to joy.
It took her a moment to find her voice, and when she did it was choked with tears. “It’s from Dad!”
Andromeda gasped, moving quickly to sit next to her daughter, her eyes filling with tears at the sight of her husband’s sloppy but familiar handwriting.
To my Darling Daughter and Wife,
I know that this is something of a Christmas miracle, provided by a son-in-law I did not trust completely but now understand to be a most noble young man. Please know that I am currently safe, traveling with several blokes who make the days, at least, more bearable.
At night, though, my thoughts are filled with the two of you, and that little baby just waiting to enter the world. Dora, I know you are a girl of action - I wouldn’t want it any other way - but you have to take care of that little one now, and he (I have a feeling) is going to need you more than the war does. There are people fighting for us, darling, so you fight for your family. I love you more than anything on this earth, and I want you to always remember that.
My darling ‘Dromeda, since I know our Dora probably won’t listen to a word I say, I know that you will make sure she does what I ask. We have raised a remarkable child, and I can’t think of anyone I would rather have done it with. You sacrificed a lot to be with me, and I want to thank you for that. I love you, and miss you every night I am out here without you. There will come a time when I can come home, and no matter what is left of the world around us, as long as you are in it my world will be whole.
I don’t want this to sound like a final goodbye. I am still fighting to get home to you, and have seen several people along the way who make me believe that will happen. I just don’t want anything to go unsaid, as I left in quite a bit of a hurry. I am holding your faces in my heart until I can look at them again. Soon.
Merry Christmas, my loves.
Ted
The room was silent except for the crackling fire and the occasional sniff from mother and daughter. Remus had walked to the other side of the room to allow for their privacy, studying his shoes closely as to not feel like an intruder on their personal moments. He looked up at the sound of Tonks’ voice, full of disbelief and wonder, from across the room,
“How do you - did you see him? Where - how on earth…?”
Remus smiled at his wife’s inability to complete a question. “Let’s just say it is very good indeed to have connections with goblins. Bill told me that he had heard a rumor that there were some ex-Gringott’s employees on the run with some Muggle-borns. I didn’t get to se him,” he continued, a twinge of regret in his voice, “but the couriers assured me he was in good spirits and health.”
Andromeda stood carefully, her eyes wet with tears, and she walked over to Remus. The grip she imparted on his hands belied her calm, careful stance. “Thank you,” she whispered, landing a kiss on Remus’ cheek. “You have no idea…”
Remus gave her hands a reassuring squeeze as she lost her voice. “I think I do,” he murmured.
“Why is it not disappearing?” Remus looked over to Tonks as she held the letter in her hand like a lifeline. “Usually it fades away when it stops glowing.”
Remus moved over to her and sat. “He must have destroyed his. I told him in my note he would have to, in order to avoid detection. No one is in danger,” he continued quickly at her look of alarm. “The magic is only traceable to the destination of the letter, not the origin. For all anyone knows who may be tracking us, we just performed a reparo spell.”
“But Remus, our letters - “
Remus smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “Darling, I can make another. It was so much more important for this to happen. I’m not the one you needed today. It was him.”
Tonks returned the squeeze with a smile that lit up her face. “Oh, my love, when will you learn that I need you every single day?”
Andromeda walked over to them, taking the letter from Tonks’ hand as if it would disentigrate any moment. “So this is ours now?” she asked quietly.
“Yes,” replied Remus simply.
“I’m going to go put it up - somewhere safe.” And with that Andromeda headed towards her bedroom, carrying the letter reverently and rereading it again.
Tonks started a little and moved her hand to her stomach. She took his hand and let him feel their child move, love and joy shining in her eyes. “He thinks it’s a boy,” she whispered.
“I would say your father may be a very astute man,” Remus murmered, his voice choked with emotion.
Tonks looked over at the tree standing tall in the corner, its lights casting a warm glow across the room. She and Remus had decorated it two weeks before, but what could have been the beginning of a happy family tradition was clouded by fear for Ted and the fragility of the world they both loved. “Next year, Remus,” she said quietly, her chin set in determination. “Next year, my dad will be sitting here where we are, holding his grandson, watching us help mum decorate the tree, laughing as I drop a hopeless amount of ornaments that you will have charmed to be unbreakable. Mum will have gingerbread baking in the oven, and we will sit around the table and be thankful for one another. We will help our son unwrap his first Christmas presents and watch him discover snow. Next year it will all be perfect.”
“Let’s make sure this year is as perfect as it can be,” Remus whispered, laying a kiss tenderly on his wife’s temple and laying his head against her breast, finding comfort in her steady heartbeat and the feeling of his son beneath his hand.
They sat that way for a very long time, resting in the comfort of one another and the life they had created, while the snow fell silently on the unsure world around them.
Author: phoenixfyre13
Ratings/Warnings: PG, some very mild language. No warnings that I can think of.
Prompts: Letter
I’ve traveled across this country, crossed the waters deep and wide
Made lots of friends and memories, brought joy to others’ lives
It’s Christmas time again, another year has come and gone
And I can’t keep from wonderin’ how the old folks are at home
--With Bells On, Dolly Parton
Word Count: 5,000ish
Summary: As the years go by, Remus’ gift to Tonks on their first Christmas together brings joy, pain and comfort in a world that seems to be falling apart at the seams.
Author’s Note: Angst/Drama/Romance, OotP/HBP/DH era. My fics refuse to be pigeonholed! Or maybe I just refuse to commit…Wow! So, I totally beat any word count I have ever done that wasn’t an academic paper. I actually had to edit to get it under the limit! I had a lot of fun writing this one. Hope you enjoy! Happy Holidays!
December 22, 1995
The brisk wind beat at her back as Nymphadora Tonks swept into the dim hallway at Grimmauld Place, her cheeks flushed pink with the cold of the bitter December night. She managed to shove the door closed against the blast of cold and took a moment to catch her breath.
The crackling fire in the library called to her chilled bones, as well as the figure she knew she would find inhabiting the overstuffed chair silhouetted against the flames. She grinned at the thought of him, most likely wrapped up in another of the library’s musty titles, as he had been almost every night she had returned from duty.
Remus. Her Remus.
She could hardly believe they had been together six months, considering how bloody hard it had been to get him to agree to even take her out in the first place. Her heart had melted at the sight of him, slightly self-conscious but smiling at her nonetheless, a picnic basket dangling from his right hand and a bedsheet draped over his left arm. “I thought we could enjoy a day in the park.”
It had become a monthly ritual, usually on the anniversary of that first picnic. Even last month, the two hadn’t let the brisk November cold ruin their routine, casting warming charms on each other, laughing at the strange looks from passersby, and cuddling close to one another, making the warming charms a moot point and the well-worn bedsheet a nice touch of irony.
Tonight was their six-month anniversary, and for the first time she had to stand him up. Ever since Arthur’s attack and everyone’s arrival at Grimmauld Place, her Order shifts had become more frequent and more tense with each passing day. She had just come off her latest one after having tracked a Death Eater all day through Diagon Alley, only to find out the git had actually been Christmas shopping for his ruddy family. All that effort - and missing her picnic with Remus - for a whole lot of nothing.
But there he was, sitting patiently in front of the fire, his face illuminated by the glowing embers and the twinkling lights of the tree beside him.
“Hello, my dear,” he said, standing to wrap his arms around her and pull her close. “How was your shift?”
“Bloody boring, that’s how,” she grumbled half-heartedly. Her frustration was quickly dissipating in the arms of her lover, and she could feel herself relaxing against his lean frame. She tilted her face up for a kiss, which he willingly imparted.
After a too-short blissful moment, Remus pulled back and smiled gently down at her. “I have your Christmas present.”
“But Remus,” she protested as he moved away from her towards the tree. “I haven’t gotten anything for you yet. And Christmas isn’t for another three days!”
Remus smiled back at her wryly. “I have a feeling, my dear Dora, that you will not be joining me for Christmas. The Order has the very best timing, it seems.”
Tonks snorted. “Yeah, right. Well, I never was one to say no to a present.”
Remus chuckled as he approached, a small box in his hand, wrapped carefully with bright red paper and a pristine white bow. She smiled ruefully up at him as she took it. “I hope you don’t expect such a wonderfully wrapped gift from me, Remus Lupin,” she scolded, even as she tore into the paper. Inside, she found a lovely carved wooden box, a woodland scene with fairies and nymphs adorning the top. She grinned as she opened the box to find a blank piece of parchment, a bottle of ink and a quill.
Remus must have read the moment of confusion in her face as he hurried to explain. “It’s an enchanted letter,” he explained. “I have the other set. We can use it to write to one another when you are out on your assignments, when we can’t always be together.” He smiled as he pushed back a lock of her festively red hair. “I know it’s not easy being with a werewolf, especially one who can’t afford the most elaborate present, but -“
He was cut off as Tonks threw herself into his arms, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It’s perfect, darling,” she whispered, maintaining the steel grip around his neck. “I absolutely love it.”
She felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. “Well, I am very glad you like it, but I would love to be able to breathe properly again.”
Tonks let go quickly, smoothing her hand down his chest. “Sorry.”
Remus caught up her hand in his, kissing the back of it. “I do have another surprise for you, in the kitchen.” He pulled her along, and she felt the tears well up again as she walked through the door and surveyed the room around her.
“Oh, Remus, you remembered,” she breathed. The long wooden table and chairs were gone, replaced by a very familiar bedsheet. A hundred candles illuminated the space, casting dancing shadows along every wall and crevice. In the center of the sheet was a picnic basket, open to reveal all the makings for late night sandwiches, potato crisps and two bottles of Butterbeer.
“I know it’s not the park, but I still wanted to do it for you.”
Tonks turned back to him, eyes shining in the candlelight. “It’s the most perfect Christmas I have ever had,” she murmered, taking his hand in her own and squeezing it hard. “Honestly, Remus. The best ever.”
Remus led her to the sheet, pulling her down to sit with him. “For me as well,” he whispered, running a trail of kisses down her neck.
Tonks shivered as she closed her eyes. “Mm. What about the food?”
Remus pulled back and looked at her with eyes that made white heat flood at the base of her spine. “I think it’ll keep,” he whispered.
“Me too,” she replied, grinning at him wickedly. “Merry Christmas.”
He groaned as she ran her hand up his thigh. “Merry Christmas, indeed.”
And Remus proceeded to improve upon Tonks’ already perfect Yuletide.
_________________________________________________________________________________
December 25, 1995
Remus sighed as he trudged into his room at 12 Grimmauld Place, resigned to spending yet another Christmas alone. He was very glad that he and Dora had gotten to celebrate the week before, as so much of her time now was spent on shifts for the Order and trying to juggle all her assignments at the Ministry besides. They had seen each other briefly today, but barely even long enough for a hello and a peck on the cheek.
He shrugged out of his shabby overcoat, ruefully realizing it was time to patch the thing again, when he spotted the box on his bed, a glowing piece of parchment lying on top. He recognized the signal from his enchanted letter that he had a new message, and his heart skipped for a moment as he moved to pick it up. A smile spread across his face at the words scribbled on the parchment in Tonks’ careless handwriting.
Wotcher, love.
Well, I hope this letter finds you a sight bit better than I am at the moment. Kingsley won’t shut his bloody trap about the new set of Auror robes his mother bought him for Christmas, and how well they fit, and the delicious bread pudding she sent with it. He’s driving me bonkers, Remus, I swear. I’d like to take his bread pudding and shove it up his - well, you know.
Besides the fact that Shacklebolt won’t shut it and it’s cold enough out here to freeze my ruddy socks off, things are going well. Well, of course, meaning boring.
I wish I could be there with you right now. I left my Christmas present for you on the bed. Remember, will you, that it’s the thought that counts? I never did well at all those householdey things my mum was so good at, but I thought you might like something I made myself.
I love you, miss you, and can’t wait to come home to you. Please know if I could be anywhere in the world, it would be with you right now.
Tonks
Remus smiled softly as he set aside the letter, fingering her signature reverently before turning to the box. He lifted the lid to find a maroon jumper, neatly folded, lying in a bed of tissue paper. “Oh, Dora, my love,” he murmered, lifting it out and holding it in front of him. He could see the flawed areas where her knitting spell had undoubtedly gone awry, but that only made the gift more special. He knew how much time it must have taken her, and how much she hated knitting. He felt his chest tighten with love for this woman as he slipped the sweater over his head and laid on his -- their -- bed, breathing in her subtle scent in the fibers of the wool.
And that was how she found him hours later, curled up with her sweater still on and her letter clutched firmly in his hand. She smiled at the sight in front of her, dropping her coat on the floor next to the bed and curling up beside him, watching his face until she herself succumbed to sleep.
Outside, gusts of snow beat against the walls, a premonition of the struggles to come, as the two lovers took a moment of respite from the weary world around them.
__________________________________________________________________________________
December 25, 1996
Tonks could hear the sound of her parents’ laughter floating down the hallway from their dining room as they prepared the table for their family Christmas dinner. It was a sound she hadn’t heard much since she had walked through the door that evening, and the light giggle, brief and airy, from her mother sent through her a flood of emotions she could hardly reconcile.
How could anyone be happy when she was so bloody miserable?
She glanced at herself once more in the mirror, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt, her heart sinking as she realized she looked worse, if that was even possible. Life for her had ended six months before, when her and Remus’ ritual picnic had turned into the stuff of nightmares. Instead of it becoming a day where she could try to put the tragic events of two weeks’ prior to rest for just a few hours, she found Remus standing in the kitchen, staring at their picnic basket as if it was a venomous snake. And somehow, in that moment, she knew. Even before he said those words, walked out the door, shattered her heart, she knew that the fairy tale was over.
And now she was living in a fog, each passing moment existing not because she desired it but simply because her body unconsciously took one breath after another.
She looked down at the dresser in her parents’ guest room, her hands moving involuntarily towards the carved wooden box sitting benignly in front of her. What had made her bring the bloody thing with her tonight, of all nights, she would never know. Maybe she needed to know he was still alive. Maybe she wanted to prove to him that she was. But there it was, that damned piece of parchment, ink bottle and quill, waiting patiently for her to write.
She shook her head and walked away. What in Merlin’s name would she say? Could she say? He had left her, after all. He was being so bloody noble about everything. What could she possibly say to him to break down that wall of self-loathing and fear that he had managed to erect around himself?
Nothing. There was nothing she could say. But there was plenty she wanted to say.
She set her chin, striding back across the room and snatching the contents from the box. She began to scribble furiously, relieved when the words shrank themselves to make more room as she poured out her soul. She figured he might need a magnifying glass by the time she was through with him.
And she sincerely hoped the parchment wouldn’t show him the tears that dripped helplessly onto the pages.
__________________________________________________________________________________
After all the Weasleys were in bed and Celestina Warbuck had crooned her last note for the WWN, Remus remained in the Burrow’s cozy living room, staring wordlessly into the fire. He had known the holiday would feel empty without her in it, but he hadn’t known how much until now.
And her Patronus had changed? What in Merlin’s name did that mean? When he had walked out of the kitchen at Grimmauld six long months ago, his chest aching and mind screaming at him to turn back, he had thought she would heal. She was young, strong. She would find someone else, and then all he would become was a bitter memory, something she tried not to remember. But now, it seemed that she could not forget.
He shifted in his chair, rubbing his hands down his face. Merlin, he felt so old. And now he had to return to the pack, before they became suspicious. He stood and groaned slightly as his aching legs protested, and he trudged his way to the small broom closet just inside the door.
At the bottom sat his carpetbag of meager possessions, which Molly and Arthur had graciously agreed to keep in their possession while he was on assignment. He opened the bag and pulled out the two items on top.
He brought the worn maroon sweater up to his face, breathing in the barely-there scent of his Dora. He finally caught it, a mix of sandalwood and rose that almost had him weeping aloud. He slipped it over his head, finding some comfort in reliving the past as he took the second object over to the small but tidy writing desk.
He opened his box, pulling out quill and paper, when that same glow he had come to anticipate but hadn’t seen in six months filled the box. With trembling fingers, he opened the parchment to find words flowing onto the paper like a waterfall, the smudged ink and the familiar handwriting causing his heart to turn over in his chest. Sucking in a breath, he began to read.
I don’t know if you will read this, and right now I don’t really care. I have some things I need to say, and I’m going to say them, whether you read this or not.
The day you walked out on me, on us, I thought it was the worst day of my life. And I keep thinking that, day after day, this one is the worst. But it’s never as bad as the next. And it pisses me off. Do you know why? Because I know why you did it. I know why you walked away. It would be so much easier if I didn’t understand, or if you were just some prat that didn’t love me. But it’s none of those things. I know you still love me. And it’s not that I don’t understand, because I do. I get it. You think you’re being noble, that you want to do what’s right for me. You think you are afraid of what you could do to me.
But really, Remus? I know that it’s yourself you are afraid for, more than me. You are afraid of what loving me might mean for yourself. You might actually have to open up to someone, let someone else take care of you, let someone else beyond that stupid wall you put up between yourself and the rest of the world. I know that it’s because when you look at yourself, you see a monster.
But you never once stopped to ask me what I saw. Because if you had, you would know that I see that beautiful man that I fell in love with. I see a kind, brilliant, funny wizard who got a rotten deal but has managed to do some good for the world anyway. I see everything you are the other thirty days of the month. And that’s why I am so pissed. Because I can see it, and you can’t. Because the rest of the bloody world can see it, and you look the other way.
I can’t make you love yourself. That is a journey you are going to have to embark on yourself. I can’t even make you come back to me. Because, Remus, it’s what I want. Do not give me that rubbish about being too old, or poor, or dangerous, because I have told you once and I will tell you again - I don’t care. I fell in love with you, not whatever image of a man it is you think I should be with.
I’ll be waiting. However long it takes, I’ll be waiting.
Love,
Dora
Remus could hardly breathe for the ache in his chest as he finished, clutching tightly to the still-glowing parchment in his hand, finally giving in to the tears that had threatened to choke him for so long he couldn’t remember when they had appeared.
He stayed that way for a very long time, as the snow fell silently outside the frosted window pane.
___________________________________________________________________________________
December 25, 1997
“And that wraps up tonight’s Potterwatch. This is River, wishing all listening a Merry and safe Christmas.” Lee Jordan’s voice disappeared from the airwaves to be replaced by the hiss of static as Tonks turned off the radio in her parents’ kitchen. She pushed herself out of her chair, rubbing her back a little and giving a slight grimace. Her belly had begun to grow in the past two months, and now she laid her hand protectively over the growing mound of her stomach, not for the first time wishing he or she would just stop moving around so much.
She found Andromeda in the living room, fluffing pillows and straightening an already tidy couch. Tonks felt a wave of sorrow and pity wash over her as she watched her mother’s sure, slight hands tremble for a moment over the corner of the couch. Ted Tonks’ flight had hurt both of them, but her mother the most. She could hardly imagine what she would do if Remus were the one running and she was left here to worry and wait.
“Potterwatch is over,” she announced, still watching her mother from the doorway. “Remus should be home anytime now.”
Andromeda nodded, not looking directly at her daughter. “Good,” she said tightly. Finally, she looked up, and Tonks could see the fear and hope mingling in her mother’s eyes as she prepared to ask the question that inevitably came at the end of each Potterwatch broadcast. “Did they say…”
Tonks shook her head quickly. “No, Mum. No word.”
Andromeda let out a sigh that was part relief, part frustration. In this case, no news was most likely good news. Still, on a day like today, knowing that Ted was alive and out there would have been a distinct blessing.
After more than an hour had passed and there was still no word from Remus, Tonks began to worry. She paced the living room floor, chewing on her fingernails as the minutes began to tick by like excruciating hours. Finally, just as Tonks was preparing to grab her coat and venture out irrationally into the snow to find her husband, the front door opened, bringing with it a gust of wind, a dust of snow, and the tall, lean form of the man in question.
“Remus!” Tonks fairly shouted, rushing toward him and helping him off with his coat. “Where in Merlin’s name have you been? Did someone see you? Are you hurt?”
Remus chuckled slightly at his wife’s barrage of questions as he rubbed his hands reassuringly up and down her arms. “I’m fine, love,” he said, smiling down at her. “Just had a delivery to make, that’s all.”
Tonks’ fear turned quickly to anger, and she cuffed him hard on the shoulder. “You had me scared out of my mind, you git!”
“Now, Nymphadora, leave the man alone,” said Andromeda briskly, sweeping in from the kitchen with a hot mug of butterbeer in her hand. “Here, dear, drink this. You must be frozen.”
Remus smiled gratefully at his mother-in-law and took the mug from her. “Thank you, Andromeda.” He had been slightly amazed at how she had embraced him into her family, once the initial shock of the nuptials and his brief time of fear and hesitancy had passed. Ted had always been slightly suspicious, but Andromeda had in her matter-of-fact way made him feel more at home here in this house than anywhere he had lived since his parents had bid him a tearful goodbye on Platform 9 ¾ his first year. Yes, it was a little crowded, and the weight of Ted’s absence hung heavily in the air, but Remus was more at peace with himself now than he had ever been, and the anticipation of this new life coming into the world overshadowed completely any reticence that may have previously existed about having children, especially during these frightening, unsure times. The look on Dora’s face of wonder every time the baby moved, the rush of love he felt every time he held her in his arms and felt the baby bulge between them, the miracle of every moment they spent together planning and hoping and dreaming for this unborn child, made everything that came before and would come after completely worth it because it brought them to this moment.
Tonks brought him out of his reverie by grasping his hand and pulling him towards the sofa. “So, tell me how everyone is doing. I heard Kingsley earlier on the broadcast. Is he doing alright?”
Remus groaned slightly as he sank into the cushions. “He is well, considering the circumstances. Everyone right now is just trying to keep a low profile through the holidays.”
Tonks sighed and studied Remus’ hand still in hers. “I wish I could be more helpful. It’s hard feeling so bloody useless. Especially with Dad out there…”
Remus shifted to look her in the face, but before he could say anything, Andromeda piped in. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nymphadora. You couldn’t help your father right now even if you weren’t pregnant, and you know it. He wants you to take care of yourself and our grandchild, and I don’t need to speak with him to know the truth of that.”
Remus felt a stab of pity for the two women sitting in the room with him, both pairs of eyes shining defiantly, both sets of lips trembling slightly but determined. Dora may have inherited her father’s happy-go-lucky mentality, but down to the core she was her mother’s daughter. Fiery and determined and stubborn were the outcast Black women.
Remus considered the time, and determined enough had passed to give these two remarkable women their presents. He stood and made towards his and Dora’s bedroom. “Darling, where do you keep that present I gave you two years ago?”
Tonks looked flummoxed for a moment, then recovered herself enough to answer. “In the nightstand drawer. What on earth do you want with it?”
In response, Remus returned to the living room, holding the parchment in his hands. To Tonks’ surprise, it was currently glowing light blue, a sure sign it was in use. “Remus…?”
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered, handing her the paper and watching her face transform from confusion to disbelief to joy.
It took her a moment to find her voice, and when she did it was choked with tears. “It’s from Dad!”
Andromeda gasped, moving quickly to sit next to her daughter, her eyes filling with tears at the sight of her husband’s sloppy but familiar handwriting.
To my Darling Daughter and Wife,
I know that this is something of a Christmas miracle, provided by a son-in-law I did not trust completely but now understand to be a most noble young man. Please know that I am currently safe, traveling with several blokes who make the days, at least, more bearable.
At night, though, my thoughts are filled with the two of you, and that little baby just waiting to enter the world. Dora, I know you are a girl of action - I wouldn’t want it any other way - but you have to take care of that little one now, and he (I have a feeling) is going to need you more than the war does. There are people fighting for us, darling, so you fight for your family. I love you more than anything on this earth, and I want you to always remember that.
My darling ‘Dromeda, since I know our Dora probably won’t listen to a word I say, I know that you will make sure she does what I ask. We have raised a remarkable child, and I can’t think of anyone I would rather have done it with. You sacrificed a lot to be with me, and I want to thank you for that. I love you, and miss you every night I am out here without you. There will come a time when I can come home, and no matter what is left of the world around us, as long as you are in it my world will be whole.
I don’t want this to sound like a final goodbye. I am still fighting to get home to you, and have seen several people along the way who make me believe that will happen. I just don’t want anything to go unsaid, as I left in quite a bit of a hurry. I am holding your faces in my heart until I can look at them again. Soon.
Merry Christmas, my loves.
Ted
The room was silent except for the crackling fire and the occasional sniff from mother and daughter. Remus had walked to the other side of the room to allow for their privacy, studying his shoes closely as to not feel like an intruder on their personal moments. He looked up at the sound of Tonks’ voice, full of disbelief and wonder, from across the room,
“How do you - did you see him? Where - how on earth…?”
Remus smiled at his wife’s inability to complete a question. “Let’s just say it is very good indeed to have connections with goblins. Bill told me that he had heard a rumor that there were some ex-Gringott’s employees on the run with some Muggle-borns. I didn’t get to se him,” he continued, a twinge of regret in his voice, “but the couriers assured me he was in good spirits and health.”
Andromeda stood carefully, her eyes wet with tears, and she walked over to Remus. The grip she imparted on his hands belied her calm, careful stance. “Thank you,” she whispered, landing a kiss on Remus’ cheek. “You have no idea…”
Remus gave her hands a reassuring squeeze as she lost her voice. “I think I do,” he murmured.
“Why is it not disappearing?” Remus looked over to Tonks as she held the letter in her hand like a lifeline. “Usually it fades away when it stops glowing.”
Remus moved over to her and sat. “He must have destroyed his. I told him in my note he would have to, in order to avoid detection. No one is in danger,” he continued quickly at her look of alarm. “The magic is only traceable to the destination of the letter, not the origin. For all anyone knows who may be tracking us, we just performed a reparo spell.”
“But Remus, our letters - “
Remus smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “Darling, I can make another. It was so much more important for this to happen. I’m not the one you needed today. It was him.”
Tonks returned the squeeze with a smile that lit up her face. “Oh, my love, when will you learn that I need you every single day?”
Andromeda walked over to them, taking the letter from Tonks’ hand as if it would disentigrate any moment. “So this is ours now?” she asked quietly.
“Yes,” replied Remus simply.
“I’m going to go put it up - somewhere safe.” And with that Andromeda headed towards her bedroom, carrying the letter reverently and rereading it again.
Tonks started a little and moved her hand to her stomach. She took his hand and let him feel their child move, love and joy shining in her eyes. “He thinks it’s a boy,” she whispered.
“I would say your father may be a very astute man,” Remus murmered, his voice choked with emotion.
Tonks looked over at the tree standing tall in the corner, its lights casting a warm glow across the room. She and Remus had decorated it two weeks before, but what could have been the beginning of a happy family tradition was clouded by fear for Ted and the fragility of the world they both loved. “Next year, Remus,” she said quietly, her chin set in determination. “Next year, my dad will be sitting here where we are, holding his grandson, watching us help mum decorate the tree, laughing as I drop a hopeless amount of ornaments that you will have charmed to be unbreakable. Mum will have gingerbread baking in the oven, and we will sit around the table and be thankful for one another. We will help our son unwrap his first Christmas presents and watch him discover snow. Next year it will all be perfect.”
“Let’s make sure this year is as perfect as it can be,” Remus whispered, laying a kiss tenderly on his wife’s temple and laying his head against her breast, finding comfort in her steady heartbeat and the feeling of his son beneath his hand.
They sat that way for a very long time, resting in the comfort of one another and the life they had created, while the snow fell silently on the unsure world around them.