[Kaleidoscope revision] Colours | 9. If a Seed be Sown
Chapter 9 of Colours (the first "book" of Kaleidoscope) has been revised and is now up at FanFiction.net.
Kaleidoscope (I): Colours
9. If a Seed be Sown (3460 words | PG)
[also on FF.N] [ original LJ version: Friends, at metamorfic_moon]
Tonks has almost given up hope that Remus will ever see her as more than a friend, until Sirius steps in to do what he can for his friends. But no one expects the evening to end the way it does.
Chapter 9
If a Seed be Sown
Tonks tapped her wand along the front door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, working swiftly through the unlocking charms and security spells that were second nature by now. She pushed the door open and stepped into the chilly, slightly dank hallway, abandoning a lovely June evening for the perpetual gloom of headquarters with a grin of anticipation.
A year ago, who’d have thought that a mouldering old house, crammed full of Dark objects no less, would become her favourite place to spend her free time? What little free time she had, that is, as her work for the Order practically amounted to a second job. Tonks was actually here on Order business tonight-she was meant to work out a new set of surveillance routines with Kingsley and Mad-Eye-but she’d turned up half an hour early, bearing a small paper sack and looking forward to company.
As she fastened the locks and replaced the security spells, Tonks heard voices drifting up from the basement kitchen. She made her way along the shadowy hall and down the stairs, successfully avoiding her sworn enemy the umbrella stand and Great-Aunt Walburga’s venomous portrait in one go.
She found both Sirius and Remus in the kitchen, but for once, she’d been so quiet coming in that they hadn’t noticed her arrival.
And the scene that greeted her was not a cheerful one.
Sirius was pacing, his face twisted into an ugly scowl and his movements jerky with something like anger or frustration. Remus, looking a little more haggard than he ought to at new moon, had folded himself into one of the heavy oaken chairs, but his eyes followed Sirius’s restless path around the room. On the table stood a dusty bottle of wine. Two goblets had been poured, but neither one appeared to have been touched.
“Wotcher,” she called from the doorway, as brightly as she could.
At the sound of her voice, Sirius stopped his pacing and turned around. “Hullo, peanut.” He didn’t exactly smile at her, but his twisted features smoothed, and the hard look in his hooded grey eyes softened a little.
Tonks fought to keep her worry from showing on her face. The longer her cousin was forced to spend hiding in this house that he’d always hated, the more he reminded her of a trapped animal trying to chew off its own limb. His nimble sense of humour had turned caustic and bitter, and if no one stopped him he would drink much more than anyone ought to drink. But her company seemed to cheer him up, most of the time, and that was a very good reason for spending lots of time at headquarters.
Tonks’s chipper greeting made Remus look round as well. Unlike Sirius, Remus did smile at her.
But as so often happened these days, she was no longer sure what his smile meant.
There was relief in his eyes, which made sense, if he’d been wishing for some help in shaking Sirius out of a poisonous mood. There was genuine warmth, too-he always seemed glad to see her, which gave her a delicious feeling of contentment.
And-
Was there anything else?
Sometimes she almost thought there was, almost convinced herself that she could see a certain lingering, wistful quality to his normally steady gaze.
Something that might mean he fancied her, even just a little.
But no word or action on Remus’s part had ever betrayed the slightest hint that he saw her as anything more than a friend. So Tonks was forced to conclude that she was only imagining things.
Which was extremely unfortunate, given how much she had come to fancy Remus by now.
In fact, she had a niggling suspicion that when you found yourself fancying someone that you already liked and respected more than just about anyone you’d ever known, fancy might not even be the right word to use.
This was the other reason why she couldn’t stay away from Grimmauld Place. Common sense told her that it was completely useless-that someone as subtle and brilliant and capable as Remus Lupin couldn’t possibly be interested in a brash, inexperienced, clumsy witch. But even so, if she went more than a day or two without seeing his smile and hearing his warm, slightly husky voice, she would start feeling lost and lonely. Spending time with Remus, even only as a friend, felt like coming home.
And there was nothing to stop her from hoping for more.
So, smiling happily back, Tonks dropped her parcel on the table and curled up in a chair across from his.
“Would you like some wine?” Remus offered, and when she nodded, he Summoned a third goblet from the cupboard and filled it. She deliberately let her fingers brush against his as she took the goblet from him, but he didn’t even blink.
She swallowed a sigh, found a grin, and lifted her goblet toward Remus and Sirius in turn. “Cheers, lads.”
But neither man made to return the salute, so she set her own wine down untasted. “What’s wrong?”
Sirius laughed once, harshly. “Let’s just say today’s been complete shite.”
Remus sighed. “It started when Kreacher suddenly took it into his head to vent his displeasure with the Order by breaking one of Buckbeak’s wings.”
“What?” Tonks had come to be quite fond of the fugitive hippogriff, but in any case, this was appalling behaviour, even for a house-elf who’d gone round the bend years ago. “Will Beaky be all right?”
“I think so,” said Remus tightly. “But it took the better part of an hour for us to convince him to let us put a splint on the wing and dose him with some bonesetting potion.”
“And it gets worse,” Sirius ground out through clenched teeth. “We got a message from Snivellus. Voldemort managed to make Harry think he’d seen a vision of me being held captive in the Department of Mysteries. So Harry and his friends broke into Umbridge’s office to use the Floo to check on me.” He grinned suddenly. “Very resourceful of them. James would’ve been proud. Although...” His voice trailed off, and the grin faded into a worried frown. “I wish he would just use the two-way mirror I gave him at Christmas!”
“The problem was, you see,” said Remus, “that while Harry was trying to contact Sirius, we were upstairs chasing Buckbeak around with a splint.”
“Yeah.” Sirius’s ugly scowl was back, and he was pacing again. “And then the bleedin’ toad caught them. Snape said she’s got them locked in her office, pinioned by a mob of Slytherin goons, so she can interrogate them.”
Interrogate? Tonks swallowed. How far would Dolores Umbridge go? Surely she wouldn’t torture students?
Remus twisted his mouth into something that was almost a smile. “At least Severus said he made her believe that he’s out of Veritaserum. Thank goodness for small mercies.”
“So...now what?” Tonks looked from the tense face to the angry one.
“We wait,” said Sirius dully.
“Severus said he’ll contact us again once he’s had a chance to talk to Harry, or at least Umbridge,” Remus elaborated. “We’ll find out just how much trouble Harry and his friends are in.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Why did this have to happen with Minerva in hospital? I don’t think Umbridge will be able to expel Harry for this-surely the school governors wouldn’t stand for that-but she may try.”
“If Harry needs help, I’m ready,” Sirius growled, with his hands on his hips and his feet spread wide. “I’m not leaving this Floo again until we have word.”
Tonks knew perfectly well that the Order would never want Sirius to risk his safety by leaving the protection of the Fidelius Charm and charging off on some rescue mission, but this did explain why her cousin wasn’t drinking tonight. He always put Harry first, even ahead of his own frustration and despair.
“I’ve brought something,” she said, a little hesitantly. “It might help to pass the time while we’re waiting.” She poked at the paper sack, pushing it a little closer to where Remus sat and Sirius stood behind him.
“What’s this, then?” Remus deliberately relaxed his shoulders and gave her a smile of appreciation.
Only appreciation? Tonks could not tell.
She smiled back, keeping it cheerful. “I thought you two might enjoy a trip down memory lane. I picked these up in Hogsmeade today.”
Sirius scooped up the sack and peeked inside. “Honeydukes!” He actually laughed, which smoothed some of the lines out of Remus’s face in turn. Tonks felt her grin grow a little.
Her cousin slid into a chair next to Remus and spilled the sweets out onto the table. “Chocoballs,” he said reverently. “Don’t think I’ve had one of these since...before.” He bit into one and closed his eyes, looking blissful. “Mmmm.”
“I’ve always been fond of sugar quills, myself,” said Remus lightly, choosing one from the jumble of sweets. “They’re the easiest to sneak into lessons.”
Tonks leaned across the table and poked his shoulder. “You’re telling me Mr. Gryffindor Prefect used to eat sweets in his lessons?”
Remus pretended to be affronted. “Not while I was a prefect!”
Sirius snorted.
Tonks fished a couple of Pepper Imps out of the pile and popped them into her mouth, sneezing as they smoked. Remus was turning the sugar quill over and over in his hands, and she lost herself for a moment, watching him. She knew from a couple of the more strenuous Order missions they’d been on together that he was strong, much stronger than he looked, but his hands could be so deft and gentle when they held something delicate like that. A shiver chased itself up and down her spine.
Remus stopped fiddling with the quill, and she dragged her gaze upward to find him looking from the sweet to her with a crafty, calculating expression. She grinned-it was obvious what he was up to.
“Lovely things, aren’t they?” he said, all nonchalant, squinting along the length of the feather. “Look how dark the pink is along the rib. But it gradually fades until it’s almost white at the edges.”
Sirius, back to earth now after his moment of Chocoball ecstasy, was watching the two of them with a gleam of amusement. He knew the game as well as they did.
Remus slapped the sugar quill down on the table in front of Tonks. “Go on, match it!”
“That’s an easy one,” she scoffed. Concentrating for just a few seconds, she turned the roots of her hair a deep rose and the tips of her spikes palest pink.
“The middle bit’s still blue,” Sirius announced unhelpfully.
“Git,” she shot back, chuckling. “Let me finish.” The gradual shading was a bit tricky after all, but she held the rose and the pale pink in her mind’s eye and just sort of let them slide together. Applause from the other side of the table told her she’d got it.
“Oh, well done.” Remus was grinning at her with open approval and a very warm light in his eyes, and she knew perfectly well it was only because she’d met his friendly challenge, but she couldn’t help her pulse speeding up, or her cheeks growing warm, when he looked at her that way.
But then his expression turned rather apologetic, and that almost-wistful look appeared again. “I don’t mean to rush off, Tonks, but Kingsley asked me to research an obscure spell for him before he meets with you and Mad-Eye tonight, so I’d better head up to the library and get to it.”
Her stomach gave a lurch of disappointment, but only a small one-with any luck, she’d find an excuse to linger after her meeting was over.
“Do you mind?” he asked, holding her gaze but tilting his head toward Sirius, who was busy picking through a handful of Bertie Bott’s Beans, setting aside anything green, yellow, or brown.
“No, of course not,” she said, nodding once to show she’d understood. Sirius was refusing to leave the Floo, but this was not a good evening to leave him alone, so she’d stay down here and keep him company.
Remus flashed her a swift, grateful smile and made his way upstairs. She watched him go, mesmerised by the spill of his hair over his collar and the angles his shoulders made under his worn but neatly darned robes.
A snigger from Sirius pulled her rudely out of her reverie.
“I’ve noticed, peanut,” he observed, “that you seem to spend an awful lot of time watching old Moony these days.” His eyes took on a devilish glint, and one eyebrow curved knowingly. “I don’t suppose you’re starting to fancy him, are you?”
Tonks raised her own eyebrows and opened her mouth. She was trying to decide between casually deflecting the question with a flippant remark and bluntly telling her cousin to mind his own damn business. As much as she normally enjoyed his acid sense of humour, she had no intention of exposing her own cherished (if most likely hopeless) dreams to the teasing and scorn of Sirius Black, Master of Sarcasm.
But then suddenly something snapped.
She’d been worrying about this all alone for months now, and the urge to confide in someone-anyone-simply overwhelmed her. Her shoulders sagged, and her defiantly cheerful face collapsed into glum lines.
“It doesn’t matter if I do fancy him,” she said quietly. “It’s pretty clear I’m not his type.”
To her amazement, Sirius didn’t laugh at her. In fact, his eyes took on a sober, searching expression she’d only seen a few times before-the night he told her about Remus’s condition being one of them. He reached over and ruffled her rose-to-pink spikes. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“Oh, I’m sure, all right.” Tonks picked up the sugar quill that Remus had been holding and absently stroked a finger along its length. “I’ve been trying to flirt with him for ages, and either he’s ignoring it, or he doesn’t even see that I’m flirting.” Her throat tightened. “Either way, it’s obvious he doesn’t consider me a potential romantic prospect.”
“Maybe he doesn’t,” said Sirius slowly, “but I’ll wager that’s because of him, not because of you.”
Tonks looked up, puzzled.
Sirius went back to sorting the Bertie Bott’s Beans. “At school, and even after, Remus had friends who were girls, but he never dated anybody. The rest of us would try to fix him up sometimes, but he’d always weasel out of it.” He frowned, gazing at something that was probably fourteen years or more in the past. “When we nagged him about it, he’d say daft things-that being a werewolf meant he couldn’t ever have a girlfriend, for starters.”
“That is daft!” All her life Tonks had assumed, as a matter of course, that she’d have someone someday. She imagined what it would feel like to deliberately choose a life devoid of love, and her heart twisted. “He’d only need to take care at full moons, and he does that anyway.”
“You see that, and I see that,” her cousin said, shaking his head in exasperation, “but getting it through Moony’s thick skull is much more difficult.” He thought for a moment. “To be fair, I always did suspect he was worrying about the social implications of his situation as much as the dangers of the transformation. He’ll never be rich, you know, and legally, things are even worse for werewolves now than they were when we were in school.”
“So he’s never-” Tonks quickly erased a blush and looked down at the sugar quill again. This was getting awfully personal, but she simply had to ask. “Has he ever had a girlfriend, or a...lover?”
Sirius was quiet for a long time. She looked up at him, ready to apologize, but then he answered, speaking slowly. “I just don’t know. I don’t think he ever did when I was around, but there are twelve years I don’t know much about.”
Tonks sighed. “Well, none of this really changes anything, does it? It still means that Remus will never even consider starting something with me.”
“Oi, weren’t you listening to your wise cousin?” Sirius was teasing her now, but there was still no sign of his trademark caustic mockery. “I said I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He smiled at her, a fond, lopsided sort of smile. “Remus lights up whenever you walk into the room, you know. He talks about you all the time-what you’d say about something, what you’d do if you were here.” He patted her gently on the arm. “And he trusts you. He wouldn’t be so eager for you to visit when he’s still knackered after full moons if he didn’t.” The eyebrow went up again. “I’d say all that’s a pretty good start.”
Her stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies.
“Do you think he still believes romance is off limits?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “I have no idea.” Then he grinned at her, a saucy, conspiratorial grin. “But I don’t think it really matters either way. I’m positive he’s halfway besotted with you already, even if he doesn’t know it. I think I can push him over the edge.”
“What?” Tonks felt as though her face were on fire. “You’re not going to tell him that I fancy him!”
Sirius gave her a very haughty, very Black look. “Of course not, dear child. I can be much more subtle than that.” He grinned again. “Don’t worry-he’ll never know what hit him.”
Tonks grinned back, a little dubiously. What can of worms had she opened now?
“Look, peanut,” said Sirius, very quietly. “Remus deserves to have something good in his life, and I’d love for that something good to be you. You two are the best friends I’ve got.”
She swallowed, unexpectedly touched by her cousin’s words. But all this new insight into Remus was making her heart pound, and against her better judgement, hope came welling up, making her feel just a little like she was floating.
They shared another grin-and then they looked up furtively at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
Remus appeared, carrying the Evening Prophet, and smiled at them both. “Tonks,” he said, “Kingsley and Mad-Eye are ready for you in the library.” Pushing a section of the Prophet toward Sirius, he settled himself at the table again.
“Thanks.” She uncurled herself from her chair, slipping Remus’s sugar quill into her pocket when no one was looking. For luck.
“Come back down for a cuppa when you’re through,” said Sirius, turning directly to the Quidditch scores.
“Good idea,” said Remus, glancing through the pages of the editorial section. Behind Remus’s back, Sirius winked at her, and she felt herself developing a rather giddy grin.
“Bring Mad-Eye and Kingsley too,” Remus added. “We can fill them in about Harry.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, and Tonks stifled a giggle. But she knew that Remus was right-keeping track of Harry’s interactions with Umbridge was crucial Order business.
“I will,” she said. “I’m sure Snape’s follow-up report will come any minute now.”
Both men nodded, but Remus’s gaze lingered slightly.
Sirius was looking very smug. “About what we were discussing-just leave everything to me, peanut.”
Her grin broadened, and she even felt a little tingly with expectation. At the very least, she’d cheered her cousin up and stopped him brooding about Harry, Snape, and Buckbeak; he was looking happier than he had in days. At best, well-no sense getting her hopes up, but maybe-
And then came a sudden swirl of silver mist that didn’t quite settle into any recognizable shape.
Snape’s odd, unstable Patronus.
Remus sat bolt upright. The Quidditch pages crumpled in Sirius’s hands. Tonks found herself holding her breath.
“Lupin,” said the Patronus, with an audible sneer. “That dunderheaded boy and his friends have vanished completely. I suppose they’ve gone to the Ministry.”
“Mad-Eye!” Tonks shouted toward the stairs. “Kingsley!”
“I believe the missing students to be Potter, the two youngest Weasleys, Granger, Lovegood, and (heaven help us) Longbottom.” The Patronus was still speaking, but it had begun to dissipate around the edges. “I don’t know how many Death Eaters the Dark Lord plans to send, but Malfoy and Dolohov will be there, and probably several more. Bellatrix Lestrange will most likely be dispatched as well.”
Sirius snarled, and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder. Remus caught hold of his arm.
Each one tried to stare the other down.
“Round up as many Order members as you can and go straight to the Department of Mysteries.” The Patronus dissolved, and Snape’s voice faded to little more than a harsh whisper, but his words echoed in the silent kitchen. “There is no time to waste.”
~ * ~
[ ← Chapter 8 | → Chapter 10 | ↑ Kaleidoscope series index ]
Author’s note: This chapter was originally posted at the LiveJournal community metamorfic_moon in July 2007, under the title “Friends”.
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Kaleidoscope (I): Colours
9. If a Seed be Sown (3460 words | PG)
[also on FF.N] [ original LJ version: Friends, at metamorfic_moon]
Tonks has almost given up hope that Remus will ever see her as more than a friend, until Sirius steps in to do what he can for his friends. But no one expects the evening to end the way it does.
- What has changed: New title (formerly “Friends”). Some exposition-y paragraphs have been removed, since the information isn’t needed if this chapter is read in its place in the series sequence. Some of the details of the developing relationship between Remus and Tonks have been slightly altered to bring things into line with the (more recently written) preceding chapters, especially Words Unspoken. A little more emphasis has been put on how Sirius is going to react if he hears that Harry is in trouble. And the ending of the chapter has been elaborated a little.
Chapter 9
If a Seed be Sown
Tonks tapped her wand along the front door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, working swiftly through the unlocking charms and security spells that were second nature by now. She pushed the door open and stepped into the chilly, slightly dank hallway, abandoning a lovely June evening for the perpetual gloom of headquarters with a grin of anticipation.
A year ago, who’d have thought that a mouldering old house, crammed full of Dark objects no less, would become her favourite place to spend her free time? What little free time she had, that is, as her work for the Order practically amounted to a second job. Tonks was actually here on Order business tonight-she was meant to work out a new set of surveillance routines with Kingsley and Mad-Eye-but she’d turned up half an hour early, bearing a small paper sack and looking forward to company.
As she fastened the locks and replaced the security spells, Tonks heard voices drifting up from the basement kitchen. She made her way along the shadowy hall and down the stairs, successfully avoiding her sworn enemy the umbrella stand and Great-Aunt Walburga’s venomous portrait in one go.
She found both Sirius and Remus in the kitchen, but for once, she’d been so quiet coming in that they hadn’t noticed her arrival.
And the scene that greeted her was not a cheerful one.
Sirius was pacing, his face twisted into an ugly scowl and his movements jerky with something like anger or frustration. Remus, looking a little more haggard than he ought to at new moon, had folded himself into one of the heavy oaken chairs, but his eyes followed Sirius’s restless path around the room. On the table stood a dusty bottle of wine. Two goblets had been poured, but neither one appeared to have been touched.
“Wotcher,” she called from the doorway, as brightly as she could.
At the sound of her voice, Sirius stopped his pacing and turned around. “Hullo, peanut.” He didn’t exactly smile at her, but his twisted features smoothed, and the hard look in his hooded grey eyes softened a little.
Tonks fought to keep her worry from showing on her face. The longer her cousin was forced to spend hiding in this house that he’d always hated, the more he reminded her of a trapped animal trying to chew off its own limb. His nimble sense of humour had turned caustic and bitter, and if no one stopped him he would drink much more than anyone ought to drink. But her company seemed to cheer him up, most of the time, and that was a very good reason for spending lots of time at headquarters.
Tonks’s chipper greeting made Remus look round as well. Unlike Sirius, Remus did smile at her.
But as so often happened these days, she was no longer sure what his smile meant.
There was relief in his eyes, which made sense, if he’d been wishing for some help in shaking Sirius out of a poisonous mood. There was genuine warmth, too-he always seemed glad to see her, which gave her a delicious feeling of contentment.
And-
Was there anything else?
Sometimes she almost thought there was, almost convinced herself that she could see a certain lingering, wistful quality to his normally steady gaze.
Something that might mean he fancied her, even just a little.
But no word or action on Remus’s part had ever betrayed the slightest hint that he saw her as anything more than a friend. So Tonks was forced to conclude that she was only imagining things.
Which was extremely unfortunate, given how much she had come to fancy Remus by now.
In fact, she had a niggling suspicion that when you found yourself fancying someone that you already liked and respected more than just about anyone you’d ever known, fancy might not even be the right word to use.
This was the other reason why she couldn’t stay away from Grimmauld Place. Common sense told her that it was completely useless-that someone as subtle and brilliant and capable as Remus Lupin couldn’t possibly be interested in a brash, inexperienced, clumsy witch. But even so, if she went more than a day or two without seeing his smile and hearing his warm, slightly husky voice, she would start feeling lost and lonely. Spending time with Remus, even only as a friend, felt like coming home.
And there was nothing to stop her from hoping for more.
So, smiling happily back, Tonks dropped her parcel on the table and curled up in a chair across from his.
“Would you like some wine?” Remus offered, and when she nodded, he Summoned a third goblet from the cupboard and filled it. She deliberately let her fingers brush against his as she took the goblet from him, but he didn’t even blink.
She swallowed a sigh, found a grin, and lifted her goblet toward Remus and Sirius in turn. “Cheers, lads.”
But neither man made to return the salute, so she set her own wine down untasted. “What’s wrong?”
Sirius laughed once, harshly. “Let’s just say today’s been complete shite.”
Remus sighed. “It started when Kreacher suddenly took it into his head to vent his displeasure with the Order by breaking one of Buckbeak’s wings.”
“What?” Tonks had come to be quite fond of the fugitive hippogriff, but in any case, this was appalling behaviour, even for a house-elf who’d gone round the bend years ago. “Will Beaky be all right?”
“I think so,” said Remus tightly. “But it took the better part of an hour for us to convince him to let us put a splint on the wing and dose him with some bonesetting potion.”
“And it gets worse,” Sirius ground out through clenched teeth. “We got a message from Snivellus. Voldemort managed to make Harry think he’d seen a vision of me being held captive in the Department of Mysteries. So Harry and his friends broke into Umbridge’s office to use the Floo to check on me.” He grinned suddenly. “Very resourceful of them. James would’ve been proud. Although...” His voice trailed off, and the grin faded into a worried frown. “I wish he would just use the two-way mirror I gave him at Christmas!”
“The problem was, you see,” said Remus, “that while Harry was trying to contact Sirius, we were upstairs chasing Buckbeak around with a splint.”
“Yeah.” Sirius’s ugly scowl was back, and he was pacing again. “And then the bleedin’ toad caught them. Snape said she’s got them locked in her office, pinioned by a mob of Slytherin goons, so she can interrogate them.”
Interrogate? Tonks swallowed. How far would Dolores Umbridge go? Surely she wouldn’t torture students?
Remus twisted his mouth into something that was almost a smile. “At least Severus said he made her believe that he’s out of Veritaserum. Thank goodness for small mercies.”
“So...now what?” Tonks looked from the tense face to the angry one.
“We wait,” said Sirius dully.
“Severus said he’ll contact us again once he’s had a chance to talk to Harry, or at least Umbridge,” Remus elaborated. “We’ll find out just how much trouble Harry and his friends are in.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Why did this have to happen with Minerva in hospital? I don’t think Umbridge will be able to expel Harry for this-surely the school governors wouldn’t stand for that-but she may try.”
“If Harry needs help, I’m ready,” Sirius growled, with his hands on his hips and his feet spread wide. “I’m not leaving this Floo again until we have word.”
Tonks knew perfectly well that the Order would never want Sirius to risk his safety by leaving the protection of the Fidelius Charm and charging off on some rescue mission, but this did explain why her cousin wasn’t drinking tonight. He always put Harry first, even ahead of his own frustration and despair.
“I’ve brought something,” she said, a little hesitantly. “It might help to pass the time while we’re waiting.” She poked at the paper sack, pushing it a little closer to where Remus sat and Sirius stood behind him.
“What’s this, then?” Remus deliberately relaxed his shoulders and gave her a smile of appreciation.
Only appreciation? Tonks could not tell.
She smiled back, keeping it cheerful. “I thought you two might enjoy a trip down memory lane. I picked these up in Hogsmeade today.”
Sirius scooped up the sack and peeked inside. “Honeydukes!” He actually laughed, which smoothed some of the lines out of Remus’s face in turn. Tonks felt her grin grow a little.
Her cousin slid into a chair next to Remus and spilled the sweets out onto the table. “Chocoballs,” he said reverently. “Don’t think I’ve had one of these since...before.” He bit into one and closed his eyes, looking blissful. “Mmmm.”
“I’ve always been fond of sugar quills, myself,” said Remus lightly, choosing one from the jumble of sweets. “They’re the easiest to sneak into lessons.”
Tonks leaned across the table and poked his shoulder. “You’re telling me Mr. Gryffindor Prefect used to eat sweets in his lessons?”
Remus pretended to be affronted. “Not while I was a prefect!”
Sirius snorted.
Tonks fished a couple of Pepper Imps out of the pile and popped them into her mouth, sneezing as they smoked. Remus was turning the sugar quill over and over in his hands, and she lost herself for a moment, watching him. She knew from a couple of the more strenuous Order missions they’d been on together that he was strong, much stronger than he looked, but his hands could be so deft and gentle when they held something delicate like that. A shiver chased itself up and down her spine.
Remus stopped fiddling with the quill, and she dragged her gaze upward to find him looking from the sweet to her with a crafty, calculating expression. She grinned-it was obvious what he was up to.
“Lovely things, aren’t they?” he said, all nonchalant, squinting along the length of the feather. “Look how dark the pink is along the rib. But it gradually fades until it’s almost white at the edges.”
Sirius, back to earth now after his moment of Chocoball ecstasy, was watching the two of them with a gleam of amusement. He knew the game as well as they did.
Remus slapped the sugar quill down on the table in front of Tonks. “Go on, match it!”
“That’s an easy one,” she scoffed. Concentrating for just a few seconds, she turned the roots of her hair a deep rose and the tips of her spikes palest pink.
“The middle bit’s still blue,” Sirius announced unhelpfully.
“Git,” she shot back, chuckling. “Let me finish.” The gradual shading was a bit tricky after all, but she held the rose and the pale pink in her mind’s eye and just sort of let them slide together. Applause from the other side of the table told her she’d got it.
“Oh, well done.” Remus was grinning at her with open approval and a very warm light in his eyes, and she knew perfectly well it was only because she’d met his friendly challenge, but she couldn’t help her pulse speeding up, or her cheeks growing warm, when he looked at her that way.
But then his expression turned rather apologetic, and that almost-wistful look appeared again. “I don’t mean to rush off, Tonks, but Kingsley asked me to research an obscure spell for him before he meets with you and Mad-Eye tonight, so I’d better head up to the library and get to it.”
Her stomach gave a lurch of disappointment, but only a small one-with any luck, she’d find an excuse to linger after her meeting was over.
“Do you mind?” he asked, holding her gaze but tilting his head toward Sirius, who was busy picking through a handful of Bertie Bott’s Beans, setting aside anything green, yellow, or brown.
“No, of course not,” she said, nodding once to show she’d understood. Sirius was refusing to leave the Floo, but this was not a good evening to leave him alone, so she’d stay down here and keep him company.
Remus flashed her a swift, grateful smile and made his way upstairs. She watched him go, mesmerised by the spill of his hair over his collar and the angles his shoulders made under his worn but neatly darned robes.
A snigger from Sirius pulled her rudely out of her reverie.
“I’ve noticed, peanut,” he observed, “that you seem to spend an awful lot of time watching old Moony these days.” His eyes took on a devilish glint, and one eyebrow curved knowingly. “I don’t suppose you’re starting to fancy him, are you?”
Tonks raised her own eyebrows and opened her mouth. She was trying to decide between casually deflecting the question with a flippant remark and bluntly telling her cousin to mind his own damn business. As much as she normally enjoyed his acid sense of humour, she had no intention of exposing her own cherished (if most likely hopeless) dreams to the teasing and scorn of Sirius Black, Master of Sarcasm.
But then suddenly something snapped.
She’d been worrying about this all alone for months now, and the urge to confide in someone-anyone-simply overwhelmed her. Her shoulders sagged, and her defiantly cheerful face collapsed into glum lines.
“It doesn’t matter if I do fancy him,” she said quietly. “It’s pretty clear I’m not his type.”
To her amazement, Sirius didn’t laugh at her. In fact, his eyes took on a sober, searching expression she’d only seen a few times before-the night he told her about Remus’s condition being one of them. He reached over and ruffled her rose-to-pink spikes. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“Oh, I’m sure, all right.” Tonks picked up the sugar quill that Remus had been holding and absently stroked a finger along its length. “I’ve been trying to flirt with him for ages, and either he’s ignoring it, or he doesn’t even see that I’m flirting.” Her throat tightened. “Either way, it’s obvious he doesn’t consider me a potential romantic prospect.”
“Maybe he doesn’t,” said Sirius slowly, “but I’ll wager that’s because of him, not because of you.”
Tonks looked up, puzzled.
Sirius went back to sorting the Bertie Bott’s Beans. “At school, and even after, Remus had friends who were girls, but he never dated anybody. The rest of us would try to fix him up sometimes, but he’d always weasel out of it.” He frowned, gazing at something that was probably fourteen years or more in the past. “When we nagged him about it, he’d say daft things-that being a werewolf meant he couldn’t ever have a girlfriend, for starters.”
“That is daft!” All her life Tonks had assumed, as a matter of course, that she’d have someone someday. She imagined what it would feel like to deliberately choose a life devoid of love, and her heart twisted. “He’d only need to take care at full moons, and he does that anyway.”
“You see that, and I see that,” her cousin said, shaking his head in exasperation, “but getting it through Moony’s thick skull is much more difficult.” He thought for a moment. “To be fair, I always did suspect he was worrying about the social implications of his situation as much as the dangers of the transformation. He’ll never be rich, you know, and legally, things are even worse for werewolves now than they were when we were in school.”
“So he’s never-” Tonks quickly erased a blush and looked down at the sugar quill again. This was getting awfully personal, but she simply had to ask. “Has he ever had a girlfriend, or a...lover?”
Sirius was quiet for a long time. She looked up at him, ready to apologize, but then he answered, speaking slowly. “I just don’t know. I don’t think he ever did when I was around, but there are twelve years I don’t know much about.”
Tonks sighed. “Well, none of this really changes anything, does it? It still means that Remus will never even consider starting something with me.”
“Oi, weren’t you listening to your wise cousin?” Sirius was teasing her now, but there was still no sign of his trademark caustic mockery. “I said I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He smiled at her, a fond, lopsided sort of smile. “Remus lights up whenever you walk into the room, you know. He talks about you all the time-what you’d say about something, what you’d do if you were here.” He patted her gently on the arm. “And he trusts you. He wouldn’t be so eager for you to visit when he’s still knackered after full moons if he didn’t.” The eyebrow went up again. “I’d say all that’s a pretty good start.”
Her stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies.
“Do you think he still believes romance is off limits?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “I have no idea.” Then he grinned at her, a saucy, conspiratorial grin. “But I don’t think it really matters either way. I’m positive he’s halfway besotted with you already, even if he doesn’t know it. I think I can push him over the edge.”
“What?” Tonks felt as though her face were on fire. “You’re not going to tell him that I fancy him!”
Sirius gave her a very haughty, very Black look. “Of course not, dear child. I can be much more subtle than that.” He grinned again. “Don’t worry-he’ll never know what hit him.”
Tonks grinned back, a little dubiously. What can of worms had she opened now?
“Look, peanut,” said Sirius, very quietly. “Remus deserves to have something good in his life, and I’d love for that something good to be you. You two are the best friends I’ve got.”
She swallowed, unexpectedly touched by her cousin’s words. But all this new insight into Remus was making her heart pound, and against her better judgement, hope came welling up, making her feel just a little like she was floating.
They shared another grin-and then they looked up furtively at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
Remus appeared, carrying the Evening Prophet, and smiled at them both. “Tonks,” he said, “Kingsley and Mad-Eye are ready for you in the library.” Pushing a section of the Prophet toward Sirius, he settled himself at the table again.
“Thanks.” She uncurled herself from her chair, slipping Remus’s sugar quill into her pocket when no one was looking. For luck.
“Come back down for a cuppa when you’re through,” said Sirius, turning directly to the Quidditch scores.
“Good idea,” said Remus, glancing through the pages of the editorial section. Behind Remus’s back, Sirius winked at her, and she felt herself developing a rather giddy grin.
“Bring Mad-Eye and Kingsley too,” Remus added. “We can fill them in about Harry.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, and Tonks stifled a giggle. But she knew that Remus was right-keeping track of Harry’s interactions with Umbridge was crucial Order business.
“I will,” she said. “I’m sure Snape’s follow-up report will come any minute now.”
Both men nodded, but Remus’s gaze lingered slightly.
Sirius was looking very smug. “About what we were discussing-just leave everything to me, peanut.”
Her grin broadened, and she even felt a little tingly with expectation. At the very least, she’d cheered her cousin up and stopped him brooding about Harry, Snape, and Buckbeak; he was looking happier than he had in days. At best, well-no sense getting her hopes up, but maybe-
And then came a sudden swirl of silver mist that didn’t quite settle into any recognizable shape.
Snape’s odd, unstable Patronus.
Remus sat bolt upright. The Quidditch pages crumpled in Sirius’s hands. Tonks found herself holding her breath.
“Lupin,” said the Patronus, with an audible sneer. “That dunderheaded boy and his friends have vanished completely. I suppose they’ve gone to the Ministry.”
“Mad-Eye!” Tonks shouted toward the stairs. “Kingsley!”
“I believe the missing students to be Potter, the two youngest Weasleys, Granger, Lovegood, and (heaven help us) Longbottom.” The Patronus was still speaking, but it had begun to dissipate around the edges. “I don’t know how many Death Eaters the Dark Lord plans to send, but Malfoy and Dolohov will be there, and probably several more. Bellatrix Lestrange will most likely be dispatched as well.”
Sirius snarled, and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder. Remus caught hold of his arm.
Each one tried to stare the other down.
“Round up as many Order members as you can and go straight to the Department of Mysteries.” The Patronus dissolved, and Snape’s voice faded to little more than a harsh whisper, but his words echoed in the silent kitchen. “There is no time to waste.”
~ * ~
[ ← Chapter 8 | → Chapter 10 | ↑ Kaleidoscope series index ]
Author’s note: This chapter was originally posted at the LiveJournal community metamorfic_moon in July 2007, under the title “Friends”.
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