Have a Little Faith
Title: Have a Little Faith
Author: ravenna_t
Ratings: PG
Warnings: I never thought I would write the overly done post hospital wing story, but alas.....
Word Count: 2,768
Summary: Because I think Lupin really meant it when thought he was too old, too poor, too dangerous.
Author's Note: This is my take on Lupin's background and how it affected his reationship with Tonks. It's told from his point of view. I wanted to show the transition of him being young and full of hope and faith, to where he had gotten to the point that he didn't think he was good enough for Tonks.
Prompt: "If you can't believe, if you can't accept anything on faith, then you're doomed for a life dominated by doubt." - The Miracle on 34th Street
Dumbledore.
The sudden constriction in my chest at the thought of it is almost unbearable. I find myself walking towards Hogsmead with a thought in the back of my mind that someone needs to tell Aberforth.
I'm also aware that Nymphadora is staying at his inn.
She asked me once how I have gotten through the hardships in my life. I didn’t know how to explain it to her, so I rattled off some nonsense about muggle poetry and fire whiskey. I am not as brave as my standing as a Griffindor would have one believe.
The truth is that it all started with that wise old man with a crooked nose and twinkling blue eyes. It was because of that man, that I first learned to hope. He was the first wizard besides my parents who knew what I was and did not care.
Thanks to him, I was able to attend school. I’m not sure I could ever explain to her the affect this had on me. Even as a child I loved to learn. I loved to read, and I absorbed anything and everything I could. I heard about Hogwarts through some of my parents idle chit chat. I found a book about it in my mother's library, and I read the whole thing. I remember knowing that I would be there some day. That it was were I belonged. So, I played alone in my room. Dreaming about Hogwarts, and magic, and friends.
One day I casually mentioned something to my parents over breakfast. Im not sure exactly what I was talking about but I said something along the lines of “when I go to Hogwarts….”
Everything was suddenly tense. My father told me that he hated to say it, but Hogwarts was out of the question. When I didn’t understand, he said that it would be far too dangerous.
I thought maybe he must not know about Hogwarts, I tried to explain to him that Hogwarts was the safest place in Britain. That there were loads of magical concealments, and that no one could apparate in or out, but he cut me off.
He told me that there were laws against my kind attending any school.
My heart stopped in my chest and I began to panic. I begged him to make them undertand that I would never hurt anyone. I know now how much this hurt him
So the day that Dumbledore showed up, he gave news that was far beyond the most wild expectation of my parents or I.
So the fact that I was even able to attend Hogwarts at all was a dream come true. Therefore, I was determined to do my best. I was constantly trying to prove myself, maybe to make up for what I am. I knew that if I worked hard, studied ferociously, and stayed out of trouble, I would be able to graduate near the top of my class. Maybe, just maybe, if I was brilliant enough, it wouldn't matter what I was. Maybe if I was good enough, a future employer wouldn’t care.
Of course now I know better. And I know that it was incredibly naive of me to think I could change people's perception of Lycanthrope if I was only good enough. But even at the tender age of eleven, I had an enormous amount of responsibility on my shoulders. I only wanted to prove them wrong.
To my eleven year old mind, it seemed simple enough. Especially after Dumbledore's generous offer. I had these wonderful images in my mind, of graduating Head Boy, at number one in the class. Everyone shocked at my brilliance. I had images of one day becoming Minister of Magic, and after a long and successful career, I would announce to the whole of wizarding Britain that I was a werewolf, and had been since my youth. And wouldn’t they be shocked? Wouldn’t they immediately renounce their cruel thoughts and beliefs. Because I'd be the best and most generous Minister they ever had. And it would prove them wrong. It would prove them all wrong.
Ah, what a silly child I was. How naive. But even though I know now that it could never have happen, it's what I needed to believe at the time. I could not have even made it through Hogwarts if I knew what I know now. That none of it would actually make the slightest difference.
Towards the end of my Hogwarts career, I began to realize that it wouldn’t matter. That even though I had friends who would do anything for me, I knew that the vast majority of people would not be so accepting. But I made myself believe it was because of Voldemort. His reign of destruction had already destroyed any chance of normalcy for me. Voldemort and his followers. People who thought he had the right idea.
So, there was the next phase of my life. My focus turned towards Voldemort. And that's how I made it through the remainder of my time at school. All my studying and energy went into becoming an asset to the people fighting this war.
The only way I managed to get through the first war was by thinking of all we had to loose. But just as importantly, all we had to gain. Because lets face it, by the time I joined into the fray, things were chaotic. Dangerous and frightening. The ministry had been infiltrated long before. We were outnumbered twenty to one. Every day was hard. And every day was dangerous. We marauders and Lily quickly made ourselves a nuisance to the ever growing ranks of Death Eaters. I found my parents bodies in their home under his death mark.
We wanted to help do anything in my power to bring Voldemort down. We fought for each other, our families, and the whole wizarding community. I fought for those who hated me. I fought for those who I knew would kill me without a backwards glance if they knew what I was. I continued to fight anyways, because even then I still had hopes of overturning the system. Of changing laws, and most importantly perception. I fought because I still thought I deserved to be happy. To have a career, a wife, a family.
But then, one night it all ended. Not how we expected it to. But in a whisper. The most evil wizard of our generation gone. In a poof of smoke. And little Harry left alone; sent to live with Muggles. Because the only one of his parents friends who was left was me. And it killed me to know that I would never be able to care for him. So there I was, completely alone.
And I knew everything would be the same. Nothing was overthrown. Prejudices would never be changed, and the ones you love will leave you in the end.
I had known for awhile, but did not want to admit, that it was not just Voldemort’s followers who hated my kind. It was everyone. With the exception of a few exceptionally kind witches and wizards, most of whom were now gone.
Years went by, and I wandered around Britain. Living mostly in Muggle communities. Barely making enough to feed myself.
I felt the need to avoid the wizarding community. On several occasions, I had encountered some of the very people I fought against in the war. Walking freely. I saw Lucius Malfoy. With his wife and child. With his expensive clothing, sneering down at everyone. He spotted me. Dressed in old, tattered, and outdated robes. With holes in my shoes. In bad need of a haircut. He looked me up and down, raised his eyebrow and smirked.
I felt some of the life leave me then. I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I would always be what I was. A werewolf. Plain and simple. Even if nobody else know. I was an inconvenience to bothersome to be dealt with. I knew that in the eyes of society, I would never deserve the things other people took for granted.
And for the first time I began to feel they were right. So I decided I would never burden someone with my problems. To be with me would mean being treated like me. And no one should have to endure it. I knew I couldn’t change society. The best I could hope for was a few acquaintances and the dim hope for something better. I had finally realized that good doesn’t always conquer and love doesn’t always overcome.
Dumbledore had been too optimistic for his own good. I was angry with him for a short time. For pulling me out of the bleak existence I had been destined for as a child. For bringing me into this magical world that only left me with heartache.
But I could never hate Albus. He always represented hope and goodness in my eyes. It would have only ever been him to pull me back in.
And just when I thought I was doomed for misery, he pulled me back in once again. Right before Harry's third year. As much as I resisted, and as much as I hated to, I knew I could never deny him help when he really needed it. He had so much faith in me.
He shouldn't have.
And my past met up with me immediately. Everything I tried to keep out of my mind. Everything I had left behind. Sirius had escaped. He was one of the few people who actually knew about my furry little problem. And I was the only living person left who knew of his.
Merlin, I am a weak person. I know this. And I knew it at the time.
Of course, I know now that my not telling Albus about Sirius' anigamus abilities was the best thing that could have happened.
But it was still wrong, wasn't it? I didn’t keep it secret because I thought he was innocent. I did it for selfish reasons.
I could not stand the thought of looking that wise old man in the eyes and tell him I failed him. I did not want him to look at me like the rest of the world. When other wizards saw me they assumed I was a potions addict or something equally demoralizing. They looked at me like I was trash. I couldn’t stand the thought of him thinking of me like that.
So I didn't say anything.
What if Harry had been hurt because of me? I can't even think about it. It's too painful of a thought.
And what is just as bad is that I let myself down. I let my father down. I hadn't proved anyone wrong. I had been selfish. I hated myself for it. The next morning when Hagrid woke me as I lay in the forest, I made up my mind to resign. Snape just made it easier.
I deserved to be outed..
And I thought my life before that was hard......
And I met her. So young, and beautiful, and still full of the innocence and hope I lost somewhere along the way. She changed my life. She was everything I wasn't. Strong, pure, and unselfish.
Im not sure how it happened, but before I even realized it I fell for her hard. I used to imagine myself with her. A life with her. Then reality would remind me that it would never happen. It could not have happened before the world knew what I was. It was beyond belief that love would ever find me now.
Dolorous Umbrige and others like her made it even worse.
And on top of my betrayal of Dumbledore, and Harry, I had the guilt to my fellow Lycanthropes. As if their lives were not hard enough as it was, I made it far worse for them. While I was living comfortably enough in Sirius' home, surrounded by people I cared about, I knew that there couldn’t be many, if any, other werewolves as well off. It made me sick. It made me ashamed.
So I threw myself into work for the Order. Somehow trying to atone for my past.
And she comes in at that point in my life, and says " So what? I don’t care."
As if it could be so simple! And no matter how many times I told her I was too poor, too old, too dangerous, she only became more determined.
When I first met her, I was so involved in the Order and watching Harry that she hardly registered on my radar. Arthur Weasley quickly introduced us before the beginning of her first Order meeting. I noticed she was beautiful, and briefly contemplated her brightly colored hair before we were rushed in.
It was only through time that I learned all the wonderful things about her. Her endearing clumsiness, her kindness, and her sense of fun. She made me feel things I never thought I’d feel again. We spent many nights in Grummauld Place with Sirius. I think Nymphadora made me smile more in that year that I had in all the years since James and Lily died.
Sometimes she almost had me thinking like I did when I was young. She almost had me hoping for something more. She nearly had me believing I deserved it.
Just like Dumbledore did.
Was he wrong for giving me false hope, or was it me, who let hope die too easily?
The more I contemplate it, the more I see how wrong I may have been for throwing away everything he has done for me. Because Albus Dumbledore may not have been perfect, but I know he wanted me to be happy.
And I guess I also know she only wants the same….
Before tonight, the last time I saw her was at Christmas. Against my better judgment, I had to see her. I had to know if she was really as sad as everyone made her out to be.
She was wrapped up in a large blanket with an uneaten mince pie in front of her. She was watching an old black and white movie on her old muggle telly. I faltered as I stepped out of her fire place. This wasn’t the same woman I had left six months before.
What had I done?
I only ever wanted to save her. Everything beautiful about her. How could she continue to hope and be happy and ever optimistic if she had to share a life and my burdens with me. Life brought me down, and I never wanted that for her.
I tried to explain to her. She just willfully chose to ignore it. I told her I couldn’t risk her happiness. That if she was rational she would stop believing in happy ever afters. Because this world is woefully short of them.
As she stared back at me, I heard the movie on the telly. I looked at it sharply.
“"If you can't believe, if you can't accept anything on faith, then you're doomed for a life dominated by doubt."
I looked over at her and her chin was up and she looked at me defiantly with a twinkle in her eye.
I groaned out loud and grabbed my hair in my hands. Here I was trying to tell her about the real world. About how her simple childish views were just not how the world works. Then to hear about something as irrational of faith. Where had faith gotten me? I knew the look in her eye. I knew she wouldn’t see things my way. I was so angry afterwards. So frustrated that I couldn’t make her understand.
Oh Nymphadora, how wonderful you were.
She never lost faith.
I was wrong, wasn’t I? I was so wrong. She showed me what it meant to be loved. She suffered plenty in the past year and a half. But she continued to hope, and love. She continued to have faith in people. She never stopped hoping for something better. She only ever wanted me to be happy, just as I did her.
What a truly amazing person she is. How can I be so lucky? How can something so miraculous happen to me after everything else in my life? And how did I manage to foul it up?
I'm terrified it’s too late. Im almost to the Hogshead. Will she ever forgive me?
There’s only one way to find out.
Here I come Nymphadora. I’m ready.
Author: ravenna_t
Ratings: PG
Warnings: I never thought I would write the overly done post hospital wing story, but alas.....
Word Count: 2,768
Summary: Because I think Lupin really meant it when thought he was too old, too poor, too dangerous.
Author's Note: This is my take on Lupin's background and how it affected his reationship with Tonks. It's told from his point of view. I wanted to show the transition of him being young and full of hope and faith, to where he had gotten to the point that he didn't think he was good enough for Tonks.
Prompt: "If you can't believe, if you can't accept anything on faith, then you're doomed for a life dominated by doubt." - The Miracle on 34th Street
Dumbledore.
The sudden constriction in my chest at the thought of it is almost unbearable. I find myself walking towards Hogsmead with a thought in the back of my mind that someone needs to tell Aberforth.
I'm also aware that Nymphadora is staying at his inn.
She asked me once how I have gotten through the hardships in my life. I didn’t know how to explain it to her, so I rattled off some nonsense about muggle poetry and fire whiskey. I am not as brave as my standing as a Griffindor would have one believe.
The truth is that it all started with that wise old man with a crooked nose and twinkling blue eyes. It was because of that man, that I first learned to hope. He was the first wizard besides my parents who knew what I was and did not care.
Thanks to him, I was able to attend school. I’m not sure I could ever explain to her the affect this had on me. Even as a child I loved to learn. I loved to read, and I absorbed anything and everything I could. I heard about Hogwarts through some of my parents idle chit chat. I found a book about it in my mother's library, and I read the whole thing. I remember knowing that I would be there some day. That it was were I belonged. So, I played alone in my room. Dreaming about Hogwarts, and magic, and friends.
One day I casually mentioned something to my parents over breakfast. Im not sure exactly what I was talking about but I said something along the lines of “when I go to Hogwarts….”
Everything was suddenly tense. My father told me that he hated to say it, but Hogwarts was out of the question. When I didn’t understand, he said that it would be far too dangerous.
I thought maybe he must not know about Hogwarts, I tried to explain to him that Hogwarts was the safest place in Britain. That there were loads of magical concealments, and that no one could apparate in or out, but he cut me off.
He told me that there were laws against my kind attending any school.
My heart stopped in my chest and I began to panic. I begged him to make them undertand that I would never hurt anyone. I know now how much this hurt him
So the day that Dumbledore showed up, he gave news that was far beyond the most wild expectation of my parents or I.
So the fact that I was even able to attend Hogwarts at all was a dream come true. Therefore, I was determined to do my best. I was constantly trying to prove myself, maybe to make up for what I am. I knew that if I worked hard, studied ferociously, and stayed out of trouble, I would be able to graduate near the top of my class. Maybe, just maybe, if I was brilliant enough, it wouldn't matter what I was. Maybe if I was good enough, a future employer wouldn’t care.
Of course now I know better. And I know that it was incredibly naive of me to think I could change people's perception of Lycanthrope if I was only good enough. But even at the tender age of eleven, I had an enormous amount of responsibility on my shoulders. I only wanted to prove them wrong.
To my eleven year old mind, it seemed simple enough. Especially after Dumbledore's generous offer. I had these wonderful images in my mind, of graduating Head Boy, at number one in the class. Everyone shocked at my brilliance. I had images of one day becoming Minister of Magic, and after a long and successful career, I would announce to the whole of wizarding Britain that I was a werewolf, and had been since my youth. And wouldn’t they be shocked? Wouldn’t they immediately renounce their cruel thoughts and beliefs. Because I'd be the best and most generous Minister they ever had. And it would prove them wrong. It would prove them all wrong.
Ah, what a silly child I was. How naive. But even though I know now that it could never have happen, it's what I needed to believe at the time. I could not have even made it through Hogwarts if I knew what I know now. That none of it would actually make the slightest difference.
Towards the end of my Hogwarts career, I began to realize that it wouldn’t matter. That even though I had friends who would do anything for me, I knew that the vast majority of people would not be so accepting. But I made myself believe it was because of Voldemort. His reign of destruction had already destroyed any chance of normalcy for me. Voldemort and his followers. People who thought he had the right idea.
So, there was the next phase of my life. My focus turned towards Voldemort. And that's how I made it through the remainder of my time at school. All my studying and energy went into becoming an asset to the people fighting this war.
The only way I managed to get through the first war was by thinking of all we had to loose. But just as importantly, all we had to gain. Because lets face it, by the time I joined into the fray, things were chaotic. Dangerous and frightening. The ministry had been infiltrated long before. We were outnumbered twenty to one. Every day was hard. And every day was dangerous. We marauders and Lily quickly made ourselves a nuisance to the ever growing ranks of Death Eaters. I found my parents bodies in their home under his death mark.
We wanted to help do anything in my power to bring Voldemort down. We fought for each other, our families, and the whole wizarding community. I fought for those who hated me. I fought for those who I knew would kill me without a backwards glance if they knew what I was. I continued to fight anyways, because even then I still had hopes of overturning the system. Of changing laws, and most importantly perception. I fought because I still thought I deserved to be happy. To have a career, a wife, a family.
But then, one night it all ended. Not how we expected it to. But in a whisper. The most evil wizard of our generation gone. In a poof of smoke. And little Harry left alone; sent to live with Muggles. Because the only one of his parents friends who was left was me. And it killed me to know that I would never be able to care for him. So there I was, completely alone.
And I knew everything would be the same. Nothing was overthrown. Prejudices would never be changed, and the ones you love will leave you in the end.
I had known for awhile, but did not want to admit, that it was not just Voldemort’s followers who hated my kind. It was everyone. With the exception of a few exceptionally kind witches and wizards, most of whom were now gone.
Years went by, and I wandered around Britain. Living mostly in Muggle communities. Barely making enough to feed myself.
I felt the need to avoid the wizarding community. On several occasions, I had encountered some of the very people I fought against in the war. Walking freely. I saw Lucius Malfoy. With his wife and child. With his expensive clothing, sneering down at everyone. He spotted me. Dressed in old, tattered, and outdated robes. With holes in my shoes. In bad need of a haircut. He looked me up and down, raised his eyebrow and smirked.
I felt some of the life leave me then. I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I would always be what I was. A werewolf. Plain and simple. Even if nobody else know. I was an inconvenience to bothersome to be dealt with. I knew that in the eyes of society, I would never deserve the things other people took for granted.
And for the first time I began to feel they were right. So I decided I would never burden someone with my problems. To be with me would mean being treated like me. And no one should have to endure it. I knew I couldn’t change society. The best I could hope for was a few acquaintances and the dim hope for something better. I had finally realized that good doesn’t always conquer and love doesn’t always overcome.
Dumbledore had been too optimistic for his own good. I was angry with him for a short time. For pulling me out of the bleak existence I had been destined for as a child. For bringing me into this magical world that only left me with heartache.
But I could never hate Albus. He always represented hope and goodness in my eyes. It would have only ever been him to pull me back in.
And just when I thought I was doomed for misery, he pulled me back in once again. Right before Harry's third year. As much as I resisted, and as much as I hated to, I knew I could never deny him help when he really needed it. He had so much faith in me.
He shouldn't have.
And my past met up with me immediately. Everything I tried to keep out of my mind. Everything I had left behind. Sirius had escaped. He was one of the few people who actually knew about my furry little problem. And I was the only living person left who knew of his.
Merlin, I am a weak person. I know this. And I knew it at the time.
Of course, I know now that my not telling Albus about Sirius' anigamus abilities was the best thing that could have happened.
But it was still wrong, wasn't it? I didn’t keep it secret because I thought he was innocent. I did it for selfish reasons.
I could not stand the thought of looking that wise old man in the eyes and tell him I failed him. I did not want him to look at me like the rest of the world. When other wizards saw me they assumed I was a potions addict or something equally demoralizing. They looked at me like I was trash. I couldn’t stand the thought of him thinking of me like that.
So I didn't say anything.
What if Harry had been hurt because of me? I can't even think about it. It's too painful of a thought.
And what is just as bad is that I let myself down. I let my father down. I hadn't proved anyone wrong. I had been selfish. I hated myself for it. The next morning when Hagrid woke me as I lay in the forest, I made up my mind to resign. Snape just made it easier.
I deserved to be outed..
And I thought my life before that was hard......
And I met her. So young, and beautiful, and still full of the innocence and hope I lost somewhere along the way. She changed my life. She was everything I wasn't. Strong, pure, and unselfish.
Im not sure how it happened, but before I even realized it I fell for her hard. I used to imagine myself with her. A life with her. Then reality would remind me that it would never happen. It could not have happened before the world knew what I was. It was beyond belief that love would ever find me now.
Dolorous Umbrige and others like her made it even worse.
And on top of my betrayal of Dumbledore, and Harry, I had the guilt to my fellow Lycanthropes. As if their lives were not hard enough as it was, I made it far worse for them. While I was living comfortably enough in Sirius' home, surrounded by people I cared about, I knew that there couldn’t be many, if any, other werewolves as well off. It made me sick. It made me ashamed.
So I threw myself into work for the Order. Somehow trying to atone for my past.
And she comes in at that point in my life, and says " So what? I don’t care."
As if it could be so simple! And no matter how many times I told her I was too poor, too old, too dangerous, she only became more determined.
When I first met her, I was so involved in the Order and watching Harry that she hardly registered on my radar. Arthur Weasley quickly introduced us before the beginning of her first Order meeting. I noticed she was beautiful, and briefly contemplated her brightly colored hair before we were rushed in.
It was only through time that I learned all the wonderful things about her. Her endearing clumsiness, her kindness, and her sense of fun. She made me feel things I never thought I’d feel again. We spent many nights in Grummauld Place with Sirius. I think Nymphadora made me smile more in that year that I had in all the years since James and Lily died.
Sometimes she almost had me thinking like I did when I was young. She almost had me hoping for something more. She nearly had me believing I deserved it.
Just like Dumbledore did.
Was he wrong for giving me false hope, or was it me, who let hope die too easily?
The more I contemplate it, the more I see how wrong I may have been for throwing away everything he has done for me. Because Albus Dumbledore may not have been perfect, but I know he wanted me to be happy.
And I guess I also know she only wants the same….
Before tonight, the last time I saw her was at Christmas. Against my better judgment, I had to see her. I had to know if she was really as sad as everyone made her out to be.
She was wrapped up in a large blanket with an uneaten mince pie in front of her. She was watching an old black and white movie on her old muggle telly. I faltered as I stepped out of her fire place. This wasn’t the same woman I had left six months before.
What had I done?
I only ever wanted to save her. Everything beautiful about her. How could she continue to hope and be happy and ever optimistic if she had to share a life and my burdens with me. Life brought me down, and I never wanted that for her.
I tried to explain to her. She just willfully chose to ignore it. I told her I couldn’t risk her happiness. That if she was rational she would stop believing in happy ever afters. Because this world is woefully short of them.
As she stared back at me, I heard the movie on the telly. I looked at it sharply.
“"If you can't believe, if you can't accept anything on faith, then you're doomed for a life dominated by doubt."
I looked over at her and her chin was up and she looked at me defiantly with a twinkle in her eye.
I groaned out loud and grabbed my hair in my hands. Here I was trying to tell her about the real world. About how her simple childish views were just not how the world works. Then to hear about something as irrational of faith. Where had faith gotten me? I knew the look in her eye. I knew she wouldn’t see things my way. I was so angry afterwards. So frustrated that I couldn’t make her understand.
Oh Nymphadora, how wonderful you were.
She never lost faith.
I was wrong, wasn’t I? I was so wrong. She showed me what it meant to be loved. She suffered plenty in the past year and a half. But she continued to hope, and love. She continued to have faith in people. She never stopped hoping for something better. She only ever wanted me to be happy, just as I did her.
What a truly amazing person she is. How can I be so lucky? How can something so miraculous happen to me after everything else in my life? And how did I manage to foul it up?
I'm terrified it’s too late. Im almost to the Hogshead. Will she ever forgive me?
There’s only one way to find out.
Here I come Nymphadora. I’m ready.