[Kaleidoscope revision] Colours | 8. Unforeseen Attachments
Chapter 8 of Colours (the first "book" of Kaleidoscope) has been revised and is now up at FanFiction.net.
Kaleidoscope (I): Colours
8. Unforeseen Attachments (3690 words | PG)
[also on FF.N] [ old LJ version at metamorfic_moon]
The Weasley twins apply their formidable research and development skills to the problem of Walburga Black’s portrait, but things go wrong rather quickly. At least Tonks is there to save the day - only, now Remus is starting to notice just how many of her evenings she spends at Grimmauld Place.
Chapter 8
Unforeseen Attachments
Remus flicked his wand, the motion smooth and practised. His target, a completely defenceless potato, spun under the steadily hovering kitchen knife and shed its skin in one long, perfect curl.
Remus was quite familiar with potatoes.
Also with cabbages and carrots. Like the ones in the great pile on the counter, patiently waiting for their turn on the chopping board.
Large, tasty cuts of beef, however, he was rarely on speaking terms with. This was why he kept eyeing the oven warily, as though the enormous rib roast holding court in there might object to his company.
But Sirius had not been subtle that morning. “Moony, I’ve bloody well had it with that shoulder rubbish you’re always dragging home. I swear, trying to chew through it makes me hungrier than I was when I started! Look, there’s more than enough gold in my vault to feed the entire Order for years. Use it. I want to eat something nice for a change.”
And so Remus had brought home a roast that cost about as much as he was used to living on for a whole week. But he had already decided not to worry about it. Sirius had every right to spend his gold on what he pleased.
Especially since there seemed to be more bad days than good ones for Sirius, lately.
At least today seemed to be one of the good ones.
Remus Levitated a small crowd of potatoes and sent them tumbling into a large cauldron that bubbled over the fire. Then he Summoned the pile of carrots and started the Peeling Charm going again. Cooking at Order headquarters was generally a large-scale affair, because you never knew who might turn up for supper. Like Tonks, for example. She seemed to stop by particularly often, and that was a lucky thing for the inhabitants of number twelve, Grimmauld Place-any room, even a damp mouldering one full of Dark objects, was brighter with her in it.
It had been a few days since her last visit, actually, so all the while Remus had been getting supper ready, he’d been half expecting to hear-
“Oh, bugger!”
Footsteps on the stairs turned into a jumbled sort of crashing noise, and then a final thump.
Remus grinned, waving his wand to slow a spinning carrot, and looking up just as a head of pink, spiky hair poked around the door into the kitchen.
As soon as Tonks saw him, a rosy flush stained her cheeks, although it took only an instant for her to collect herself and Metamorphose it away.
“Wotcher, Remus.”
He wondered a little about the blush-she never used to pay her own clumsiness much mind, but lately she seemed to embarrass awfully easily. Still, her momentary flush was such a contrast to the rest of her deliberately nonchalant expression that he couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping.
Tonks pretended to scowl at him. “None of your smirking, Lupin. I’ve had a long day, and now I’ve got a bruise on my bum.” But the carrot peel he flicked at her made her grin, and he knew she wasn’t really cross.
He sent the carrots into the cauldron to join the potatoes. “I hope you’re planning to stay for supper? There’s plenty.”
Her face lit up. Merlin, but he loved to see her smile like that. Something about it always lifted his own mood, too.
“If you lot don’t mind! That roast smells divine.” She came over to stand by him at the counter, where he was aiming a chopping knife at the heart of a cabbage. “Can I help?”
The warm touch of a hand on his arm made Remus grin again. One of the things he treasured most about Tonks’s friendship was the way she took easy affection like that for granted, almost as though she didn’t think he was any Darker than anyone else.
Now that she’d come this close, though, he could see how tired her eyes were. He was pretty sure she’d had a surveillance mission for the Order last night, before working a full Auror shift today. “Go sit down and have a rest.” He made shooing motions at her. “This cabbage is the last of it. Sirius will be down soon, and then we can have supper.”
“Okay-if you’re sure there’s nothing left to do.” She curled into her usual chair at the table, looking contented.
Remus turned back to the cabbage with a small bemused shake of the head. Why on earth Tonks would choose to spend so much of her meagre free time with two entirely undesirable bachelors and a half-mad house-elf, not to mention enough mildew to turn your nose grey, was a mystery to him. He supposed she was determined to help cheer Sirius up-and for that, he was more grateful than he could say, because it generally worked, even these days-but she always seemed to treat her visits more like a night out than an obligation.
And he was pretty sure that if he were feeling as tired as she looked tonight, he wouldn’t drag himself out of bed for anything he didn’t really enjoy.
Remus let the knife take one last chop before he stilled it and added the cabbage to the vegetables bubbling in the cauldron. Then he cast a Quick-Boil Charm to ensure that everything would be cooked through when the roast was done. He was just about to join Tonks at the table when more footsteps sounded on the stairs-too many to be Sirius.
“Hello!”
“Smells nice!”
“Is Mum here?”
“Only, Bill said she might be cooking for the Order tonight-”
“-and we wondered if we could pop in for supper.”
Two identical red heads and two blindingly green dragon-skin jackets went a long way toward filling up the cavernous kitchen.
“Wotcher, George, Fred,” said Tonks. She always seemed to know which twin was which right away, a feat that was beyond Remus even after being their teacher for a year.
He smiled at the unexpected visitors. “I’m the cook tonight, I’m afraid. It’s tomorrow night your mother’s meant to be here. But there’s plenty of roast beef, and you’re welcome to stay if you’d like.” The twins were good company, and-despite the ugly confrontation when Arthur was attacked just before Christmas-they generally got on well with Sirius.
“Roast beef!” said Fred dreamily. “With Yorkies and gravy?”
“And roast potatoes, all brown and crispy?” George peered eagerly over Remus’s shoulder.
“And a cauliflower cheese?”
“And mashed pumpkin?”
“Erm,” said Remus, a trifle sheepishly. He’d never really cooked for any Weasleys before, and he was suddenly starting to realize just what that might entail. “I’m not exactly in the same league as your mother, you know.” He gestured at the cauldron. “I’ve got potatoes boiling, and carrots and cabbage, but that’s all there is to go with the roast.”
“Sounds brilliant!” said Fred at once.
George nodded emphatically. “If we go home to our flat, it’s just beans on toast.”
“There’s nothing wrong with beans on toast,” said Remus mildly. He was about as familiar with that dish as he was with potatoes and cabbage.
“Well, no-”
“-not from time to time-”
“-but this would be the third night this week.”
“Ah.” Remus bowed at the waist and made a sweeping gesture with the hand that wasn’t holding his wand. “Then let me welcome you both to the House of Black, where boiled potatoes are a specialty.”
Tonks was hiding a grin behind one hand, and he shot her a wink before turning away to pull the roast out of the oven. He cast a Carving Charm, piling a platter high with tender, juicy slices, and his mouth watered at the lovely smells that came wafting up. Sirius was right-this was going to be one marvellous cut of beef.
“I’d better let Sirius know it’s time-” he started to say, but his words were drowned out by a blood-curdling shriek from upstairs.
“You! Go away! Get out! All day long I am plagued with monsters, shape-shifting freaks, and ginger-haired blood traitors! But you-you’re the worst of all! You have betrayed the pride and honour of your noble and ancient family! Get out of my sight-you are nothing to me!”
And then came Sirius’s voice, outshouting even his mother’s vituperative portrait. “Shut up!” Footsteps echoed along the hallway, and there was a clashing of curtain rings. “Do you really think anything you could possibly say would bother me? You’re dead and gone, you old bat, and good riddance!”
The words were just as flippant as always, but there was a sharp, brittle edge clearly discernible underneath the careless tone. Remus felt his stomach begin to knot with worry. It had been a good day for Sirius...
The scion of the House of Black came clumping down the stairs, muttering darkly under his breath.
But he stopped his clumping when he saw the extra faces around the table, and his expression brightened a little. “Wotcher, peanut,” he said, tugging gently at one of Tonks’s pink spikes. “Hullo, Weasleys.”
Remus breathed a quiet huff of relief and turned back to the worktop, filling plates with roast beef and boiled vegetables and sending them over to the table.
Sirius disappeared into the pantry and emerged with a crock of butter, which he proceeded to slather over everything on his plate but the beef. The twins and Tonks followed suit. Remus made do with a shake of black pepper instead. He’d already gone soft this year where nice tea was concerned; it simply wasn’t wise for a man with no prospects to get used to unlimited butter.
“Now this is a roast beef, Moony,” Sirius announced. “You do know how to shop properly when you aren’t trying to be Mr. Frugal Bachelor all the time.”
“‘S nice, Remus,” Tonks nodded, sawing happily at a thick piece of roast with her knife and fork. She looked up and grinned at him, which started her eyes dancing, so of course he had to grin back. Somehow, that made her look even happier. He chuckled and went back to his dinner, feeling warmed right through.
Sirius turned his sharp gaze on Fred and George, who seemed to have no objections to the meal either, judging from the speed with which they were clearing their plates. “So what’ve you two been inventing these days?”
Remus ostentatiously groaned and rolled his eyes, but it was all for show. Whenever the twins brought samples of their latest Wheezes to show off to Messrs. Moony and Padfoot, he had to be on his guard for days-but it was worth being pranked a dozen times over if it kept Sirius amused.
“Actually,” said Fred, poking at a chunk of potato with his knife, “George and I’ve been doing some thinking about your mum’s portrait.”
“Oh?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, looking unusually intent.
“Yeah,” said George. “In our line of work, we develop a lot of prank charms-but we need to have antidotes and countercharms for them too.”
“So we’ve had a lot of practice working out countercharms-”
“-and now Fred thinks he’s got a counter for the Permanent Sticking Charm.”
Remus was impressed. “That, I’d like to see! Flitwick told me he’s never known anyone to manage a counter for that charm-and believe me, I went to him first thing when we opened up this house and found Mrs. Black.”
“‘Course,” said Fred modestly, “I’ve never tried it on anything as big as that portrait.”
“But he unsticks small things all the time now.” George cuffed his twin lightly on the back of the head. “So we thought it was time to show the Order.”
“Let’s have a demonstration,” said Sirius, around a mouthful of beef.
“Adhaereo!” Fred pointed his wand at his goblet of pumpkin juice and had everyone try to lift it. No one could, of course.
Then he brandished his wand one more time and intoned, “Separo!” With a flourish, George lifted the goblet. The assembled company broke into applause.
“Let’s try it on the portrait,” said Sirius, his eyes narrowing. “Right now.”
They all crept up the stairs and took up positions around the silent portrait. Fred raised his wand, exchanged a cocky look with his twin, and turned to face the tatty curtains covering old Walburga Black.
“Separo!”
Remus expected the portrait to slide down the wall and hit the floor, but nothing happened. Fred and George looked puzzled, reaching out to try to pry it off the wall. It didn’t work. Mrs. Black was just as firmly affixed as ever.
“Downstairs,” muttered Sirius under his breath. “War council.”
They settled back into their places around the kitchen table. The twins looked disappointed, and Tonks looked thoughtful. Sirius had an old familiar expression on his face-the sort that used to precede a lengthy discussion of how to sneak Dungbombs into the Slytherin dormitories. Remus indulged in a nostalgic smile.
“So maybe the problem is the size of the portrait,” mused George. “Maybe Fred’s new charm only works on small things.”
Remus was just about to speak up when Tonks beat him to it. “Another possibility is that the countercharm only works on a Sticking Charm you’ve cast yourself.”
Fred looked dismayed. “That’s no good at all, then.”
“Well, let’s see.” Sirius grabbed a section of the Daily Prophet from the sideboard and opened it up. “We can practice with this. Go on, Fred, stick it to the wall, and then see what you can do with it.”
Fred nodded. “Adhaereo.” This time he swept his wand across a Prophet-sized patch on the wall. “Now we-”
But before he could finish his sentence, a small blur came barrelling through the door, heading right for the Charmed spot. “The filthy creatures are casting Charms in poor Mistress’s house!”
“Stop him!” shouted Fred. Remus was already moving. He reached out with his left hand, and Fred reached out with his right. But Kreacher knocked them out of the way with surprising strength. The house-elf ended up between them, Stuck to the middle of the Charmed spot. And he wasn’t the only one who was Stuck - now Fred was caught by the tips of his fingers, and Remus by the whole back of his hand.
Then, with a loud crack, Kreacher disappeared.
Remus and Fred stared at each other in dismay.
Sirius let out a low whistle. “I guess it isn’t quite so Permanent if you’re a house-elf.” He sniggered. “You should’ve just let the little blighter get himself caught-now the two of you are suffering nobly for no reason.”
Fred looked nervous. “I’ve, er, read that you’re never supposed to use a Permanent Sticking Charm on a living being.” He swallowed. “Let’s hope this works.” He balanced his wand somewhat awkwardly in his left hand. “Separo.”
Remus tugged at his own hand, but it stayed stubbornly attached to the wall. Fred seemed to be faring no better.
“Let me try.” Tonks Stuck another goblet to the table and then used Fred’s countercharm to release it.
“Wow,” said George. “I can’t even do it yet, and you’ve got it after only seeing it a couple of times.”
“We had Charms Theory in Auror training,” Tonks shrugged. Turning to Remus and Fred, she cast the charm again. “Separo.”
Once again, nothing happened.
“All right,” said Sirius enthusiastically, “this supports our theory that Fred’s countercharm only works when cast by the same person who cast the Sticking Charm in question.” He paused, thinking. “And by the same hand, it seems-because Fred can’t even undo his own charm with his left hand.”
“And my right hand is stuck to the wall,” muttered Fred. “This is just perfect.”
Remus grabbed his own wand. “Protego.” At least a Shield Charm should keep anything else-or anyone else-from falling prey to the Permanent Sticking Charm.
George gave his brother a nudge. “You’ll get a holiday out of this, anyway. Think about poor little old me-I’ll have to run the shop all on my own while you’re lounging about waiting for a better countercharm, being fed meals that aren’t beans on toast.”
“We’ll solve this, and soon,” said Remus firmly. “We’ll get the whole Order here to help us cut the stones out of the wall if we must.” Tonks’s dark eyes met his, and he knew she understood what he hadn’t said-the full moon was less than a week away.
“I have an idea,” she said suddenly. “Let me see just how you’re Stuck.” She leaned over to look closely at Fred’s hand, pulling gently at the two fingers that were glued to the wall. Then she turned to Remus, running her hand over his and giving it a careful tug.
She straightened up and let go. “I’ll be right back,” she said, before turning away and charging up the stairs, but losing the warm touch of her fingers made Remus unaccountably lonely all the same.
A moment later, they heard the front door slam. For once, Walburga Black remained mercifully silent.
Sirius, however, did not. “Let’s not be sitting around on our backsides while Tonks is gone. Surely there are things around here we can try.”
By the time Remus finally heard footsteps on the stairs again, Sirius and George had dosed them with everything from Mrs. Scower’s Magical Mess Remover to a shot of firewhisky, passing through things like cider vinegar and Old Dragon Brand Fire-Breathing Pepper Sauce on the way. Unfortunately, Remus and Fred were as thoroughly attached to the wall as ever.
Tonks looked around at the four of them, her lips twitching. “There’s a reason it’s called a Permanent Sticking Charm, you know. Now they’re stuck, and they reek.”
“Scourgify,” Remus muttered, vanishing the drippy remains of the experiments.
Sirius, incorrigible as always, merely shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
Shaking her head, Tonks set a small flask down on the table.
“What’s that?” Fred eyed it suspiciously.
“Flesh-Eating Slug repellent,” she announced. “Just what we need.”
Remus felt his eyebrows rising.
“If even firewhisky doesn’t work, what good is Flesh-Eating Slug repellent against a Permanent Sticking Charm?” Sirius asked his question with the casual curiosity of someone who didn’t have his hand Permanently Stuck to a stone wall. Remus waited for her answer too, a little more avidly.
“Oh, none at all,” said Tonks cheerily.
She reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out a small glass jar, in which something greyish green and slimy huddled.
Remus’s stomach gave a lurch.
“But it’s ace,” she went on, “at stopping a Flesh-Eating Slug from eating too much off your finger.”
Things happened rather quickly after that. Fred, his freckles dark against his white face, clenched his teeth and let the slug nibble at his fingertips. As soon as he was free, Tonks took his hand and healed the raw spots. Then the slug went back into the jar-“I borrowed him from a friend in Knockturn Alley,” Tonks explained-and Fred took up his wand in his right hand again.
“Separo.”
Everyone cheered as Remus pulled his hand cleanly away from the wall.
“This calls for butterbeers all around,” Sirius announced, Summoning chilled bottles with a flourish of his wand.
They all took their places at the table again and settled in to watch the fire and trade jokes.
“I am sorry the countercharm won’t work on the portrait,” said Fred, after telling a bawdy story that made Tonks laugh every bit as hard as Sirius, which in turn made Remus laugh at the two of them until his sides ached.
George nodded. “We’ll keep working on it-maybe we can generalize the effects.”
“It’s still more than Flitwick thought was possible,” Remus consoled them. “You’ve made a major contribution already.”
Fred yawned widely and set his empty bottle on the table. “We’ve got to get up early tomorrow and stock some new inventory before the shop opens. Probably ought to head on home now.”
With garrulous thanks for dinner, the twins disappeared up the stairs.
Not long after, Tonks got to her feet and stretched. “I hate to admit it, but I’m knackered. I probably ought to go on home myself.” She pocketed the slug jar and the bottle of repellent. “‘Night, Sirius. ‘Night, Remus.”
“‘Night, peanut,” said Sirius complacently, getting started on that day’s crossword in the Prophet.
“Good night, Tonks,” said Remus. He grinned at her. “I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for getting us unstuck from that wall.”
She turned a little pink, ducked her head, and peeked at him through her lashes. “Not at all.” She shifted her weight, looking almost shy for a moment. “See you soon, then.”
“Hope so.” Remus smiled again at the thought.
Tonks gave a little wave and vanished up the stairs; from the sound of it, she tripped once on the way up, but recovered quickly.
Remus turned back to the table to find Sirius watching him. “I wish I knew what’s making Tonks embarrassed so often these days,” he mused.
Sirius blinked. “You’re joking.”
“Haven’t you noticed?” Remus raised an eyebrow. He’d always thought Sirius, for all his moodiness and self-absorption, was pretty good at reading people. “She’s always blushing, and I think she trips more often than she used to.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed, all right.” Sirius smirked.
“I hope I didn’t offend her just now.” Remus frowned at his butterbeer. “Maybe she thinks that using a Flesh-Eating Slug against a Permanent Sticking Charm is beneath the dignity of an Auror-maybe I shouldn’t have called attention to it?”
“I very much doubt you’ve offended her, Moony.” Sirius turned back to the crossword, shaking his head. “Let me know when you work it out, yeah?”
Remus shrugged and reached for a section of the Prophet. When Sirius was being secretive, there was nothing for it but to wait him out. Smug git.
But a smug Sirius was far, far better than a mopey Sirius or a bitter Sirius. Remus sent a silent thank you after the twins for their company.
And Tonks, too, of course.
Just thinking about her always made him smile.
~ * ~
[ ← Chapter 7 | → Chapter 9 | ↑ Kaleidoscope series index ]
Author’s note: This chapter is a revised version of a story that was posted at the metamorfic_moon community on LiveJournal in November 2007. A little comic relief before ... well, that would be telling.
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Kaleidoscope (I): Colours
8. Unforeseen Attachments (3690 words | PG)
[also on FF.N] [ old LJ version at metamorfic_moon]
The Weasley twins apply their formidable research and development skills to the problem of Walburga Black’s portrait, but things go wrong rather quickly. At least Tonks is there to save the day - only, now Remus is starting to notice just how many of her evenings she spends at Grimmauld Place.
- What has changed: Minor revisions; mostly stylistic, but a few details have been added to make a bigger point of the fact that Sirius is getting more depressed and less stable as the year goes on.
Chapter 8
Unforeseen Attachments
Remus flicked his wand, the motion smooth and practised. His target, a completely defenceless potato, spun under the steadily hovering kitchen knife and shed its skin in one long, perfect curl.
Remus was quite familiar with potatoes.
Also with cabbages and carrots. Like the ones in the great pile on the counter, patiently waiting for their turn on the chopping board.
Large, tasty cuts of beef, however, he was rarely on speaking terms with. This was why he kept eyeing the oven warily, as though the enormous rib roast holding court in there might object to his company.
But Sirius had not been subtle that morning. “Moony, I’ve bloody well had it with that shoulder rubbish you’re always dragging home. I swear, trying to chew through it makes me hungrier than I was when I started! Look, there’s more than enough gold in my vault to feed the entire Order for years. Use it. I want to eat something nice for a change.”
And so Remus had brought home a roast that cost about as much as he was used to living on for a whole week. But he had already decided not to worry about it. Sirius had every right to spend his gold on what he pleased.
Especially since there seemed to be more bad days than good ones for Sirius, lately.
At least today seemed to be one of the good ones.
Remus Levitated a small crowd of potatoes and sent them tumbling into a large cauldron that bubbled over the fire. Then he Summoned the pile of carrots and started the Peeling Charm going again. Cooking at Order headquarters was generally a large-scale affair, because you never knew who might turn up for supper. Like Tonks, for example. She seemed to stop by particularly often, and that was a lucky thing for the inhabitants of number twelve, Grimmauld Place-any room, even a damp mouldering one full of Dark objects, was brighter with her in it.
It had been a few days since her last visit, actually, so all the while Remus had been getting supper ready, he’d been half expecting to hear-
“Oh, bugger!”
Footsteps on the stairs turned into a jumbled sort of crashing noise, and then a final thump.
Remus grinned, waving his wand to slow a spinning carrot, and looking up just as a head of pink, spiky hair poked around the door into the kitchen.
As soon as Tonks saw him, a rosy flush stained her cheeks, although it took only an instant for her to collect herself and Metamorphose it away.
“Wotcher, Remus.”
He wondered a little about the blush-she never used to pay her own clumsiness much mind, but lately she seemed to embarrass awfully easily. Still, her momentary flush was such a contrast to the rest of her deliberately nonchalant expression that he couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping.
Tonks pretended to scowl at him. “None of your smirking, Lupin. I’ve had a long day, and now I’ve got a bruise on my bum.” But the carrot peel he flicked at her made her grin, and he knew she wasn’t really cross.
He sent the carrots into the cauldron to join the potatoes. “I hope you’re planning to stay for supper? There’s plenty.”
Her face lit up. Merlin, but he loved to see her smile like that. Something about it always lifted his own mood, too.
“If you lot don’t mind! That roast smells divine.” She came over to stand by him at the counter, where he was aiming a chopping knife at the heart of a cabbage. “Can I help?”
The warm touch of a hand on his arm made Remus grin again. One of the things he treasured most about Tonks’s friendship was the way she took easy affection like that for granted, almost as though she didn’t think he was any Darker than anyone else.
Now that she’d come this close, though, he could see how tired her eyes were. He was pretty sure she’d had a surveillance mission for the Order last night, before working a full Auror shift today. “Go sit down and have a rest.” He made shooing motions at her. “This cabbage is the last of it. Sirius will be down soon, and then we can have supper.”
“Okay-if you’re sure there’s nothing left to do.” She curled into her usual chair at the table, looking contented.
Remus turned back to the cabbage with a small bemused shake of the head. Why on earth Tonks would choose to spend so much of her meagre free time with two entirely undesirable bachelors and a half-mad house-elf, not to mention enough mildew to turn your nose grey, was a mystery to him. He supposed she was determined to help cheer Sirius up-and for that, he was more grateful than he could say, because it generally worked, even these days-but she always seemed to treat her visits more like a night out than an obligation.
And he was pretty sure that if he were feeling as tired as she looked tonight, he wouldn’t drag himself out of bed for anything he didn’t really enjoy.
Remus let the knife take one last chop before he stilled it and added the cabbage to the vegetables bubbling in the cauldron. Then he cast a Quick-Boil Charm to ensure that everything would be cooked through when the roast was done. He was just about to join Tonks at the table when more footsteps sounded on the stairs-too many to be Sirius.
“Hello!”
“Smells nice!”
“Is Mum here?”
“Only, Bill said she might be cooking for the Order tonight-”
“-and we wondered if we could pop in for supper.”
Two identical red heads and two blindingly green dragon-skin jackets went a long way toward filling up the cavernous kitchen.
“Wotcher, George, Fred,” said Tonks. She always seemed to know which twin was which right away, a feat that was beyond Remus even after being their teacher for a year.
He smiled at the unexpected visitors. “I’m the cook tonight, I’m afraid. It’s tomorrow night your mother’s meant to be here. But there’s plenty of roast beef, and you’re welcome to stay if you’d like.” The twins were good company, and-despite the ugly confrontation when Arthur was attacked just before Christmas-they generally got on well with Sirius.
“Roast beef!” said Fred dreamily. “With Yorkies and gravy?”
“And roast potatoes, all brown and crispy?” George peered eagerly over Remus’s shoulder.
“And a cauliflower cheese?”
“And mashed pumpkin?”
“Erm,” said Remus, a trifle sheepishly. He’d never really cooked for any Weasleys before, and he was suddenly starting to realize just what that might entail. “I’m not exactly in the same league as your mother, you know.” He gestured at the cauldron. “I’ve got potatoes boiling, and carrots and cabbage, but that’s all there is to go with the roast.”
“Sounds brilliant!” said Fred at once.
George nodded emphatically. “If we go home to our flat, it’s just beans on toast.”
“There’s nothing wrong with beans on toast,” said Remus mildly. He was about as familiar with that dish as he was with potatoes and cabbage.
“Well, no-”
“-not from time to time-”
“-but this would be the third night this week.”
“Ah.” Remus bowed at the waist and made a sweeping gesture with the hand that wasn’t holding his wand. “Then let me welcome you both to the House of Black, where boiled potatoes are a specialty.”
Tonks was hiding a grin behind one hand, and he shot her a wink before turning away to pull the roast out of the oven. He cast a Carving Charm, piling a platter high with tender, juicy slices, and his mouth watered at the lovely smells that came wafting up. Sirius was right-this was going to be one marvellous cut of beef.
“I’d better let Sirius know it’s time-” he started to say, but his words were drowned out by a blood-curdling shriek from upstairs.
“You! Go away! Get out! All day long I am plagued with monsters, shape-shifting freaks, and ginger-haired blood traitors! But you-you’re the worst of all! You have betrayed the pride and honour of your noble and ancient family! Get out of my sight-you are nothing to me!”
And then came Sirius’s voice, outshouting even his mother’s vituperative portrait. “Shut up!” Footsteps echoed along the hallway, and there was a clashing of curtain rings. “Do you really think anything you could possibly say would bother me? You’re dead and gone, you old bat, and good riddance!”
The words were just as flippant as always, but there was a sharp, brittle edge clearly discernible underneath the careless tone. Remus felt his stomach begin to knot with worry. It had been a good day for Sirius...
The scion of the House of Black came clumping down the stairs, muttering darkly under his breath.
But he stopped his clumping when he saw the extra faces around the table, and his expression brightened a little. “Wotcher, peanut,” he said, tugging gently at one of Tonks’s pink spikes. “Hullo, Weasleys.”
Remus breathed a quiet huff of relief and turned back to the worktop, filling plates with roast beef and boiled vegetables and sending them over to the table.
Sirius disappeared into the pantry and emerged with a crock of butter, which he proceeded to slather over everything on his plate but the beef. The twins and Tonks followed suit. Remus made do with a shake of black pepper instead. He’d already gone soft this year where nice tea was concerned; it simply wasn’t wise for a man with no prospects to get used to unlimited butter.
“Now this is a roast beef, Moony,” Sirius announced. “You do know how to shop properly when you aren’t trying to be Mr. Frugal Bachelor all the time.”
“‘S nice, Remus,” Tonks nodded, sawing happily at a thick piece of roast with her knife and fork. She looked up and grinned at him, which started her eyes dancing, so of course he had to grin back. Somehow, that made her look even happier. He chuckled and went back to his dinner, feeling warmed right through.
Sirius turned his sharp gaze on Fred and George, who seemed to have no objections to the meal either, judging from the speed with which they were clearing their plates. “So what’ve you two been inventing these days?”
Remus ostentatiously groaned and rolled his eyes, but it was all for show. Whenever the twins brought samples of their latest Wheezes to show off to Messrs. Moony and Padfoot, he had to be on his guard for days-but it was worth being pranked a dozen times over if it kept Sirius amused.
“Actually,” said Fred, poking at a chunk of potato with his knife, “George and I’ve been doing some thinking about your mum’s portrait.”
“Oh?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, looking unusually intent.
“Yeah,” said George. “In our line of work, we develop a lot of prank charms-but we need to have antidotes and countercharms for them too.”
“So we’ve had a lot of practice working out countercharms-”
“-and now Fred thinks he’s got a counter for the Permanent Sticking Charm.”
Remus was impressed. “That, I’d like to see! Flitwick told me he’s never known anyone to manage a counter for that charm-and believe me, I went to him first thing when we opened up this house and found Mrs. Black.”
“‘Course,” said Fred modestly, “I’ve never tried it on anything as big as that portrait.”
“But he unsticks small things all the time now.” George cuffed his twin lightly on the back of the head. “So we thought it was time to show the Order.”
“Let’s have a demonstration,” said Sirius, around a mouthful of beef.
“Adhaereo!” Fred pointed his wand at his goblet of pumpkin juice and had everyone try to lift it. No one could, of course.
Then he brandished his wand one more time and intoned, “Separo!” With a flourish, George lifted the goblet. The assembled company broke into applause.
“Let’s try it on the portrait,” said Sirius, his eyes narrowing. “Right now.”
They all crept up the stairs and took up positions around the silent portrait. Fred raised his wand, exchanged a cocky look with his twin, and turned to face the tatty curtains covering old Walburga Black.
“Separo!”
Remus expected the portrait to slide down the wall and hit the floor, but nothing happened. Fred and George looked puzzled, reaching out to try to pry it off the wall. It didn’t work. Mrs. Black was just as firmly affixed as ever.
“Downstairs,” muttered Sirius under his breath. “War council.”
They settled back into their places around the kitchen table. The twins looked disappointed, and Tonks looked thoughtful. Sirius had an old familiar expression on his face-the sort that used to precede a lengthy discussion of how to sneak Dungbombs into the Slytherin dormitories. Remus indulged in a nostalgic smile.
“So maybe the problem is the size of the portrait,” mused George. “Maybe Fred’s new charm only works on small things.”
Remus was just about to speak up when Tonks beat him to it. “Another possibility is that the countercharm only works on a Sticking Charm you’ve cast yourself.”
Fred looked dismayed. “That’s no good at all, then.”
“Well, let’s see.” Sirius grabbed a section of the Daily Prophet from the sideboard and opened it up. “We can practice with this. Go on, Fred, stick it to the wall, and then see what you can do with it.”
Fred nodded. “Adhaereo.” This time he swept his wand across a Prophet-sized patch on the wall. “Now we-”
But before he could finish his sentence, a small blur came barrelling through the door, heading right for the Charmed spot. “The filthy creatures are casting Charms in poor Mistress’s house!”
“Stop him!” shouted Fred. Remus was already moving. He reached out with his left hand, and Fred reached out with his right. But Kreacher knocked them out of the way with surprising strength. The house-elf ended up between them, Stuck to the middle of the Charmed spot. And he wasn’t the only one who was Stuck - now Fred was caught by the tips of his fingers, and Remus by the whole back of his hand.
Then, with a loud crack, Kreacher disappeared.
Remus and Fred stared at each other in dismay.
Sirius let out a low whistle. “I guess it isn’t quite so Permanent if you’re a house-elf.” He sniggered. “You should’ve just let the little blighter get himself caught-now the two of you are suffering nobly for no reason.”
Fred looked nervous. “I’ve, er, read that you’re never supposed to use a Permanent Sticking Charm on a living being.” He swallowed. “Let’s hope this works.” He balanced his wand somewhat awkwardly in his left hand. “Separo.”
Remus tugged at his own hand, but it stayed stubbornly attached to the wall. Fred seemed to be faring no better.
“Let me try.” Tonks Stuck another goblet to the table and then used Fred’s countercharm to release it.
“Wow,” said George. “I can’t even do it yet, and you’ve got it after only seeing it a couple of times.”
“We had Charms Theory in Auror training,” Tonks shrugged. Turning to Remus and Fred, she cast the charm again. “Separo.”
Once again, nothing happened.
“All right,” said Sirius enthusiastically, “this supports our theory that Fred’s countercharm only works when cast by the same person who cast the Sticking Charm in question.” He paused, thinking. “And by the same hand, it seems-because Fred can’t even undo his own charm with his left hand.”
“And my right hand is stuck to the wall,” muttered Fred. “This is just perfect.”
Remus grabbed his own wand. “Protego.” At least a Shield Charm should keep anything else-or anyone else-from falling prey to the Permanent Sticking Charm.
George gave his brother a nudge. “You’ll get a holiday out of this, anyway. Think about poor little old me-I’ll have to run the shop all on my own while you’re lounging about waiting for a better countercharm, being fed meals that aren’t beans on toast.”
“We’ll solve this, and soon,” said Remus firmly. “We’ll get the whole Order here to help us cut the stones out of the wall if we must.” Tonks’s dark eyes met his, and he knew she understood what he hadn’t said-the full moon was less than a week away.
“I have an idea,” she said suddenly. “Let me see just how you’re Stuck.” She leaned over to look closely at Fred’s hand, pulling gently at the two fingers that were glued to the wall. Then she turned to Remus, running her hand over his and giving it a careful tug.
She straightened up and let go. “I’ll be right back,” she said, before turning away and charging up the stairs, but losing the warm touch of her fingers made Remus unaccountably lonely all the same.
A moment later, they heard the front door slam. For once, Walburga Black remained mercifully silent.
Sirius, however, did not. “Let’s not be sitting around on our backsides while Tonks is gone. Surely there are things around here we can try.”
By the time Remus finally heard footsteps on the stairs again, Sirius and George had dosed them with everything from Mrs. Scower’s Magical Mess Remover to a shot of firewhisky, passing through things like cider vinegar and Old Dragon Brand Fire-Breathing Pepper Sauce on the way. Unfortunately, Remus and Fred were as thoroughly attached to the wall as ever.
Tonks looked around at the four of them, her lips twitching. “There’s a reason it’s called a Permanent Sticking Charm, you know. Now they’re stuck, and they reek.”
“Scourgify,” Remus muttered, vanishing the drippy remains of the experiments.
Sirius, incorrigible as always, merely shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
Shaking her head, Tonks set a small flask down on the table.
“What’s that?” Fred eyed it suspiciously.
“Flesh-Eating Slug repellent,” she announced. “Just what we need.”
Remus felt his eyebrows rising.
“If even firewhisky doesn’t work, what good is Flesh-Eating Slug repellent against a Permanent Sticking Charm?” Sirius asked his question with the casual curiosity of someone who didn’t have his hand Permanently Stuck to a stone wall. Remus waited for her answer too, a little more avidly.
“Oh, none at all,” said Tonks cheerily.
She reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out a small glass jar, in which something greyish green and slimy huddled.
Remus’s stomach gave a lurch.
“But it’s ace,” she went on, “at stopping a Flesh-Eating Slug from eating too much off your finger.”
Things happened rather quickly after that. Fred, his freckles dark against his white face, clenched his teeth and let the slug nibble at his fingertips. As soon as he was free, Tonks took his hand and healed the raw spots. Then the slug went back into the jar-“I borrowed him from a friend in Knockturn Alley,” Tonks explained-and Fred took up his wand in his right hand again.
“Separo.”
Everyone cheered as Remus pulled his hand cleanly away from the wall.
“This calls for butterbeers all around,” Sirius announced, Summoning chilled bottles with a flourish of his wand.
They all took their places at the table again and settled in to watch the fire and trade jokes.
“I am sorry the countercharm won’t work on the portrait,” said Fred, after telling a bawdy story that made Tonks laugh every bit as hard as Sirius, which in turn made Remus laugh at the two of them until his sides ached.
George nodded. “We’ll keep working on it-maybe we can generalize the effects.”
“It’s still more than Flitwick thought was possible,” Remus consoled them. “You’ve made a major contribution already.”
Fred yawned widely and set his empty bottle on the table. “We’ve got to get up early tomorrow and stock some new inventory before the shop opens. Probably ought to head on home now.”
With garrulous thanks for dinner, the twins disappeared up the stairs.
Not long after, Tonks got to her feet and stretched. “I hate to admit it, but I’m knackered. I probably ought to go on home myself.” She pocketed the slug jar and the bottle of repellent. “‘Night, Sirius. ‘Night, Remus.”
“‘Night, peanut,” said Sirius complacently, getting started on that day’s crossword in the Prophet.
“Good night, Tonks,” said Remus. He grinned at her. “I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for getting us unstuck from that wall.”
She turned a little pink, ducked her head, and peeked at him through her lashes. “Not at all.” She shifted her weight, looking almost shy for a moment. “See you soon, then.”
“Hope so.” Remus smiled again at the thought.
Tonks gave a little wave and vanished up the stairs; from the sound of it, she tripped once on the way up, but recovered quickly.
Remus turned back to the table to find Sirius watching him. “I wish I knew what’s making Tonks embarrassed so often these days,” he mused.
Sirius blinked. “You’re joking.”
“Haven’t you noticed?” Remus raised an eyebrow. He’d always thought Sirius, for all his moodiness and self-absorption, was pretty good at reading people. “She’s always blushing, and I think she trips more often than she used to.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed, all right.” Sirius smirked.
“I hope I didn’t offend her just now.” Remus frowned at his butterbeer. “Maybe she thinks that using a Flesh-Eating Slug against a Permanent Sticking Charm is beneath the dignity of an Auror-maybe I shouldn’t have called attention to it?”
“I very much doubt you’ve offended her, Moony.” Sirius turned back to the crossword, shaking his head. “Let me know when you work it out, yeah?”
Remus shrugged and reached for a section of the Prophet. When Sirius was being secretive, there was nothing for it but to wait him out. Smug git.
But a smug Sirius was far, far better than a mopey Sirius or a bitter Sirius. Remus sent a silent thank you after the twins for their company.
And Tonks, too, of course.
Just thinking about her always made him smile.
~ * ~
[ ← Chapter 7 | → Chapter 9 | ↑ Kaleidoscope series index ]
Author’s note: This chapter is a revised version of a story that was posted at the metamorfic_moon community on LiveJournal in November 2007. A little comic relief before ... well, that would be telling.
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