[Kaleidoscope revision] Colours | 10. Gather Up the Fragments that Remain
Chapter 10 of Colours (the first "book" of Kaleidoscope) has been revised and is now up at FanFiction.net.
This is the only chapter from the first part of Kaleidoscope that got more of a rewrite than just a revision. I stewed over this for a few weeks, and have made things a little tougher on poor Remus, but I sort of like the way it all came out. :)
Kaleidoscope (I): Colours
10. Gather Up the Fragments that Remain (3880 words | PG)
[also on FF.N]
After the Department of Mysteries, after Bellatrix, after the Veil, Remus tries to get things done, and tries not to think about what he has lost. Especially when the news he has to deliver to Tonks might cost him her friendship as well.
Chapter 10
Gather Up the Fragments that Remain
“Remus?”
Dimly, far away, he heard someone call his name.
But the Veil flapped. Whispers rustled. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop straining to hear what the whispers might be trying to tell him, couldn’t quite believe that what had happened tonight was real-
“Remus!”
The voice was sharper now. Nearer.
He wished it would leave him alone-he couldn’t hear the whispers-
A hand gripped his arm. Shook it. He blinked, choked on a breath.
“Albus,” he rasped.
“My dear boy,” said Dumbledore. “I’m so sorry.” For an instant, the piercing blue eyes were softened by tears. “But the children need you.”
The children.
He looked over to where they huddled together in a corner of the room. Hermione was still unconscious, and Ron was still babbling to himself. Luna sat cross-legged on the floor, talking earnestly to a white-faced Ginny, who had one foot propped up. Neville, hands on his hips, stood at the edge of the group and looked out across the room, turning his head slowly from side to side. Standing sentry, for all that he had no wand.
“Will you take them back to Hogwarts?” Dumbledore released his hold on Remus and polished his spectacles on his sleeve. “I’ve sent Harry on ahead, and I must go to him now.”
“Of course,” said Remus.
Because even in a world where Sirius Black was dead, and Nymphadora Tonks had been knocked out by a Death Eater’s hex, there were things that needed to be done.
“Make a Portkey.” The raw power that Dumbledore usually tempered with calculated whimsy still burned bright tonight, after his confrontation with Voldemort. “If anyone gives you any trouble about it later, I’ll take care of it.”
Remus went to where the children waited, skirting the edge of the room to stay as far away from the Veil as he could, so that the whispers wouldn’t snare him again.
“Still holding up all right?” he asked them, quietly.
“Ginny’s broken her ankle,” said Luna.
Ginny nodded, teeth clenched against the pain.
“Let me put that in a splint for now.” Remus raised his wand and focussed on the spell, on Ginny.
He would not think about the last time he had cast this particular spell, for Ron, on the night when he had learned the truth about Sirius. The night when he was happier than he had been in twelve years.
Ginny sighed in relief. “Thanks.”
“What happened to the girl who fell?” asked Luna. “Will she be all right?”
The room constricted again. Remus could see nothing but the spot where Tonks had crumpled under Bellatrix’s hex.
He forced himself to breathe. In, out. “She doesn’t seem to have any serious injuries,” he said, repeating what Kingsley had told him, praying that it was true. “She’s been taken to St. Mungo’s.”
He had to get the children to Hogwarts.
He couldn’t let himself think about what would happen if he lost Tonks, too.
Breathe. In, out.
“We need a Portkey,” he said. “Neville, will you lend me your necktie?”
“Here, Professor.” Neville unknotted his tie and held it out.
“Portus.” The tie glowed blue. “Neville, you keep a good hold on Ron, and Ginny and Luna, each of you take one of Hermione’s arms, all right?”
The Portkey jerked. They were in the hospital wing at Hogwarts.
It was dark, and all the beds were empty, but the air was heavy with iodine and bitter herbs and disinfectant charms, smells that had marked the aftermath of every full moon for seven years. Smells that used to mean that his three best friends would soon be sneaking in to visit him-
Breathe.
“Poppy?” Remus knocked on the door to the matron’s quarters.
It opened almost at once. “Remus? What are you doing here? Are you all right?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour.” He tried to smile. “But there are students who need your attention.”
Poppy spelled the lights on. She peered out at Ron, still emitting feeble giggles between hiccoughs. At the unconscious Hermione, being lifted clumsily onto a bed by Neville and Luna. At Ginny, favouring her unwieldy splint. “Merlin’s hat!” Poppy tied an apron on over her dressing gown and bustled over. “What have you children been doing?”
The children explained about Ron being attacked by the brain in the tank, and then Poppy bent over Hermione. Ginny sat on another bed, waiting her turn. Neville and Luna hovered.
The children were all safe now. This task, at least, was finished.
“Here’s your tie, Neville.” Remus cast a quick Finite and handed it over. “Thank you.”
Neville worked it under his collar again, tying it neatly, even though it was the middle of the night and he was covered in dirt and bruises and blood from his broken nose.
“You all fought very bravely,” said Remus. “As your former Defence professor, I couldn’t be prouder.” He even managed to find a smile for them. “Stay here until Madam Pomfrey has had a chance to look each of you over, all right? Good night.”
“Good night,” they all said. “Good night, Professor Lupin.”
He turned to go.
And then he turned back. There were more words he had to say. Words that would tear at his voice like broken glass.
“Ginny.” He glanced at Neville and Luna, listening, but it couldn’t be helped. And anyway, they had seen it happen, or at least Neville had. “When Ron and Hermione wake up, be sure to tell them that Sirius is-gone.” He waited for Ginny’s nod. “Harry isn’t taking it so well. He’ll need all of you.”
And then Ginny was looking up at him with Molly’s eyes.
The broken glass burned in his throat.
“Professor Lupin?” She reached out and touched his sleeve, gingerly. “I’m so sorry.”
All he could see was Sirius. Laughing, and then wide-eyed with shock, and then falling, falling-
The warm touch of a hand on his arm. Three faces: pained sympathy, dawning comprehension, and open curiosity.
Breathe.
“Thank you, Ginny.”
With another-failed-attempt at a smile, he turned and walked away, and did not shatter.
Luna’s clear voice floated after him. “Who is Sirius? Is he the man that died?”
“He was Harry’s godfather,” came Ginny’s careful answer. “And Professor Lupin’s friend.”
Remus went on walking, putting one foot in front of the other.
There were things that needed to be done.
~ * ~
Remus slipped in through the front door at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, pausing to reset all the security charms behind him.
The gas lamps were still burning in the hallway, just as they had been when Snape’s summons had arrived, and everyone in the house had charged off to the Ministry.
Everyone in the house.
Even the one who shouldn’t have gone-
Footsteps sounded overhead. Remus froze for an instant, and then cast a Disillusionment Charm. He flattened himself against the peeling wallpaper, wand still drawn. There was nothing like the possibility of encountering the most crazed of all the Death Eaters to focus one’s mind on the present moment.
A shadow stretched across the wall on the first-floor landing.
It was too broad-shouldered to be Bellatrix.
“Kingsley,” called Remus in relief, as the Auror appeared behind his shadow. “Finite.” He stepped back into the light.
“Remus.” Kingsley hurried down the stairs, a bundle of parchments under one arm. “Dumbledore told me there was a chance that ownership of the house might have passed to Bellatrix Lestrange-”
“Yes,” said Remus. “I thought I’d better come back and clean out all the Order’s documents, first thing.”
“I’ve already got everything important that was in the kitchen, and just now I was checking the library,” said Kingsley. “Obvious places first. But we ought to look through the whole house, just in case.”
“How is-Did you-” Breathe. “Any word on Nymphadora’s condition?”
“I stayed with her at St. Mungo’s until a Healer checked her over,” said Kingsley. “They say she may be unconscious for a while, and she’ll have a magnificent headache when she wakes up, but she should be fine.”
“Good,” said Remus, hoarsely. “That’s good.” He swallowed. “I’ll check the bedrooms on the second floor, shall I, while you finish in the library?”
“Is that what you want to do?” Kingsley’s deep voice was gentler than Remus had ever heard it. “I can look over Sirius’s room, if you’d rather do the library.”
“No, that’s all right.” Remus’s own voice echoed oddly in his ears. “He didn’t keep much in the way of Order business in his room. I’ll just give it a quick look, now; we can all clean out our personal effects later.”
Going through Padfoot’s things was, by all rights, a job for a Marauder.
Moony was the only one left.
~ * ~
Next was a message that had to be delivered.
This particular task, Remus would have preferred to leave to someone else. Anyone at all. But Tonks needed to know what had happened, and she deserved to hear it from someone who had cared about Sirius as much as she had.
Only, the first time Remus went to St. Mungo’s, Tonks was still unconscious.
He went as soon as the morning visiting time started, leaving Kingsley to finish combing through the last few rooms at Grimmauld Place. He hardly knew how he’d managed to find Spell Damage, dazed with exhaustion as he was after working through the night. Now he made his way to her bed at the far end of the ward, feeling as though his legs were made of lead, or as though he were slogging through the densest, coldest water at the bottom of the sea.
Remus settled himself in one of the uncomfortable chairs that St. Mungo’s deployed to keep visitors from staying too long. He leaned forward to study Tonks’s pale face, now framed by soft, slightly wavy hair in a delicate shade of light brown he had never seen her wear before. A remote corner of his brain that was still trying to function wondered if perhaps Metamorphmagi reverted to their natural appearance when they lost consciousness.
There were no visible injuries, but she looked just as pale and small now as she had done in the Department of Mysteries, lying crumpled in a heap where Bellatrix’s hex had hit her.
Pale, small, and-fragile.
Remus had never thought of cheeky, capable Tonks as fragile.
He rubbed his hands over his face and fought to clear his cobwebbed mind. She was going to be fine, everyone said.
Fine.
Except for the fact that she’d lost the cousin who made her grin when he mussed her hair and called her “peanut.”
And she didn’t even know it yet.
Breathe.
One of her hands lay on top of the blanket. Remus reached out and touched it. It felt very cold, so he picked it up and chafed it gently-and found that his own hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so terribly sorry. I failed him. Again.”
She lay very still, except for the slightest rise and fall of her chest.
What would happen when she woke? When he told her what had happened?
Everyone said she was going to be fine.
But that didn’t mean Remus wouldn’t lose her friendship, all the same.
He didn’t even know whether he really had the right to call her a friend, even now. He thought-he hoped-the smiles she’d had for him had always seemed real. But all those evenings at Grimmauld Place, when he’d been laughing at her stories, or challenging her to try out more and more difficult hair colours, or generally feeling warm and comfortable in the comradely atmosphere she created so easily-what if she’d only been tolerating him for Sirius’s sake?
What if he would never be anything to her again but a painful reminder of what she had lost?
Of what he hadn’t managed to save?
Breathe.
In, out.
Again. Breathe.
Remus had to count nearly a dozen breaths before the grief, and the pain, and his deep secret terror of being left utterly alone once more, had been forced back to manageable levels.
But he had survived loss before. He could do it this time, too.
And for now, Tonks slept on. Surely his presence wouldn’t do her any harm.
For now.
His shoulders gradually grew stiff, and his back began to throb where he’d been hit by a deflected curse at the Ministry. But he knew nothing beyond the feel of a small cold hand, cradled carefully in his, until finally a mediwitch came to carry out some kind of examination and shooed him away.
~ * ~
“Remus! Come in, come in.” Molly latched onto his arm and all but dragged him inside, settling him into a chair at her worn but well-polished kitchen table and pouring him a cup of tea.
Remus hadn’t been to the Burrow before, but it said Weasley all over-rambling and shabby and comfortable, like a beloved old jumper. The shivering that had taken hold of him sometime in the last few hours even eased a little.
He set a stack of parchments on the table. “How are Ron and Ginny?”
“They’ll be fine.” Her face darkened. “I can’t believe the children all-” But then she stole a quick look at Remus’s own face, and stopped abruptly.
“It’s a good bet you haven’t eaten all day,” she fussed, instead. “Let me fix you a sandwich and heat up some soup.”
“That’s kind of you, Molly, but I’m really not hungry.” His stomach turned at the thought of anything more substantial than tea. “I can only stay for a moment, in any case. But Kingsley and I cleaned all the Order projects out of headquarters last night, and I’ve brought the documents that Bill was working on, and some things that I think are yours and Arthur’s.”
“You spent all night working at headquarters?” Molly’s gaze went right through him much more easily than he had expected; he must be exhausted indeed. “Oh, Remus.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, opening them only to stare fixedly at his teacup. “It was necessary. Sirius-”
His voice cracked.
He swallowed and tried again. “Sirius named Harry in his will as his heir, but it’s possible that some older stipulation is still in force, even so. If the house passes down within the Black family, the first in line is Bellatrix Lestrange.”
“That horrid woman!” Molly’s eyes flashed sparks. “I knew her at school, of course. She was horrid even then, but, goodness! The things she did to poor Frank and Alice Longbottom!”
“It would be most unfortunate if headquarters fell into her hands,” Remus agreed. “Not to mention, most ironic. She was the one who-”
He couldn’t-
Breathe. In, out.
“Oh, Remus,” said Molly again. She sat down in the chair next to his and folded his hand between hers. “I’m so, so sorry.” She blinked back tears. “I know Sirius and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but he never deserved this.”
He let himself cling to her hand, just for a moment.
“Thank you for the tea, Molly.” He was relieved to find that his voice had returned. “I’m afraid I must be on my way. There are a number of things I have to take care of today.”
“Come for dinner, some night soon.” She scowled at him, fierce now. “Promise me. No excuses.”
“I’ll try,” he said.
~ * ~
The second time Remus went to St. Mungo’s, Tonks had visitors.
From where he stood outside the door to Spell Damage, he could see that they were a middle-aged couple. The woman (who looked uncannily like Bellatrix, if considerably saner) was gently stroking Tonks’s fine brown hair, and the man had his arm around the woman’s shoulders.
Her parents. Who, by the look of it, loved her very much. That would help, when she woke up.
Remus turned and slipped quietly away.
~ * ~
His tiny basement flat seemed much smaller and darker than Remus remembered. But of course, he’d hardly spent any time here at all since last spring. Except for full moons, when he wasn’t exactly paying attention to the ambience.
The flat was rather bare, too. Without his noticing, most of his possessions had made their way to Grimmauld Place over the course of the past year. Still, it had taken almost no time at all, just now, for him to clean out the room he had been using at headquarters.
Even if it turned out that the house hadn’t gone over to Bellatrix, Remus doubted he could ever bring himself to live at Grimmauld Place again.
He set his battered suitcase on the floor by the bed.
There would be time enough to unpack later, when he was finished with everything else.
The small rickety table was groaning with parchments-all the Order work he’d dumped there before hurrying to St. Mungo’s this morning. Dumbledore’s spiky handwriting accosted him from the top of the stack. ...need to ask you to borrow an Invisibility Cloak from Alastor and begin a surveillance mission to gather information on Fenrir Greyback’s werewolf pack...
Remus swallowed. That would be dangerous, and possibly quite difficult. Greyback had a terrifying reputation. But at least a new mission would be something to keep his mind occupied.
That was for later, though. Tonight, there was only one more thing he needed to do before he could finally let himself collapse into bed and get some sleep.
If, that is, he could sleep, after-
He hadn’t tried, yet.
~ * ~
The third time Remus went to St. Mungo’s, the mediwitch who had chased him off before was bustling through the Spell Damage ward again.
“You’re here for Miss Tonks, aren’t you? That’s good.” She paused long enough to spare him a harried smile. “Her parents were exhausted, so I sent them home to get some rest, but now she’s started to stir a bit. I wouldn’t be surprised if she woke up soon.”
“Thank Merlin,” Remus whispered, dizzy with relief, even as his stomach clenched in trepidation and his steps turned sluggish.
But even steps he had to force himself to take, one at a time, brought him to her bedside eventually.
He lowered himself back into the uncomfortable visitor’s chair.
Tonks was indeed stirring a little, just as the mediwitch had said. A frown, of pain or worry, creased her brow.
If he hadn’t been so thoroughly fogged with exhaustion, he probably wouldn’t have reached out and caught hold of her hand-not now that she was likely to wake up. But by the time he had realised what he had done, her fingers had wrapped themselves around his.
Remus brushed his thumb over her knuckles, trying once again to warm her icy fingers.
Her hair was still brown, except where light from the setting sun spilled in through the window and washed it in pale orange-gold. Her face was a little less ashen now, but there were dark circles under her eyes.
She frowned again.
And then her eyes blinked open. Her hand clenched around his, almost painfully.
Remus felt all his insides turn to lead.
Here it came. No more putting it off.
Breathe.
“Remus.” Her voice came out as a whisper, and she coughed a little. “Is it over? What happened?” Her glance flicked around the ward. “St. Mungo’s, yeah?”
“It’s over,” he said, not a little surprised to find his own voice working. “For now. And yes, this is St. Mungo’s. It’s evening again-you’ve been unconscious for a day.”
There was a glass of water on the table by the bed. He picked it up and held it out to her.
“Thanks.” She took it in her free hand, keeping her hold on his with the other.
He watched her drink. He took the glass from her again when she was finished. He held her hand gently in his. These things, he could do.
“You look rough, Remus.” Her voice was clearer now. “What happened? The last thing I remember was duelling with dear Auntie Bella-” A look of disgust crossed her face. “She knocked me out, didn’t she. And here I’m supposed to be trained to take down Dark wizards-”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” said Remus, emphatically. “Bellatrix is extremely powerful.” His voice broke, but he took a breath and pushed on. “I saw the hex she hit you with, and you must have cast a phenomenal Shield Charm if all it did was knock you out for a little while.”
“But, what happened?” Tonks asked, for the third time.
Breathe.
“Nymphadora-” he said, without meaning to. He stopped, waiting for her to scold him for using her name.
She didn’t.
Instead, her dark eyes searched his face.
He forced himself not to look away.
She drew a shaky breath, and her grip on his hand tightened again. “Something’s happened. Something bad.”
Breathe.
Again. Breathe.
In, out.
Again.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m afraid so-”
Broken glass in his throat. He couldn’t-
“Remus?”
He had to.
For Nymphadora.
Breathe.
“It’s Sirius,” he whispered. “He’s-”
The words burned like acid, like Fiendfyre.
“-he’s-dead.”
What little colour had returned to Tonks’s face now drained away. Her eyes filled with tears.
With pain.
Breathe.
“How?” she whispered.
“He was duelling.” Remus closed his eyes, but he opened them again quickly when a flood of wrenching images assaulted him. “He was hit, and he fell through the Veil.”
Tonks covered her face with her free hand, but she didn’t let go of his with the other.
Obviously, she hadn’t worked it all out yet.
“I’m sorry.” The words tried to stick in his throat, and he had to grind them out, hoarse and harsh. “I’m so sorry, Nymphadora. I never should have let him leave the house last night.”
He stared at the floor, bracing himself for when she jerked her hand free, for when she rolled away from him and turned her back.
Instead, her fingers tightened around his. She gave his hand a sharp shake.
He stiffened.
“Remus.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Look at me.”
He dragged his gaze up to meet hers.
Behind the tears on her lashes, her dark eyes blazed.
“It’s not your fault.” She gave his hand another squeeze. “You saw what he was like last night. Harry was in danger. An entire herd of hippogriffs wouldn’t have been able to keep Sirius from going to the Ministry.”
This time, it was her thumb that scuffed across his knuckles.
Breathe. In, out.
Again.
“Are-” She swallowed. “Of course you’re not all right.” She searched his face again. “But were you hurt, in the fighting?”
“Nothing to speak of,” he said. “A few bruises.”
“Then-” She flushed, and he stared at the colour that stained her cheeks. Usually she Metamorphosed to hide it. “Would you stay with me, just for a little while?”
She swiped the back of her other hand across her eyes, brushing away most of the tears.
“I could do with a friend, just now,” she whispered.
Her hand was warm in his at last, her grip strong and steady.
And-she had called him a friend.
He held on.
Breathing was a little easier, now.
~ * ~
[ ← Chapter 9 | → Chapter 11 | ↑ Kaleidoscope series index ]
Author’s note: The first scene of this chapter is an expanded version of a ficlet with the same title that was posted at the LiveJournal community day_by_drabble in August 2011. Some of the St. Mungo’s scenes were originally posted as a ficlet, “Clarity”, at the LiveJournal community metamorfic_moon in July 2007.
.
This is the only chapter from the first part of Kaleidoscope that got more of a rewrite than just a revision. I stewed over this for a few weeks, and have made things a little tougher on poor Remus, but I sort of like the way it all came out. :)
Kaleidoscope (I): Colours
10. Gather Up the Fragments that Remain (3880 words | PG)
[also on FF.N]
After the Department of Mysteries, after Bellatrix, after the Veil, Remus tries to get things done, and tries not to think about what he has lost. Especially when the news he has to deliver to Tonks might cost him her friendship as well.
- What has changed: This chapter starts with a scene that is merely a minor revision of the original single-scene ficlet “ Gather Up the Fragments” from day_by_drabble. It also incorporates the first two St. Mungo’s scenes from an early metamorfic_moon story, “ Clarity”. But there are three entirely new scenes, and the final St. Mungo’s scene has been completely rewritten as well. I wanted to give a better sense of Remus’s shattered mental state, and also make his behavio(u)r fit with an idea I developed in writing later chapters for this series-that he never really lets himself grieve for Sirius until the dam breaks after Dumbledore’s death a year later.
Chapter 10
Gather Up the Fragments that Remain
“Remus?”
Dimly, far away, he heard someone call his name.
But the Veil flapped. Whispers rustled. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop straining to hear what the whispers might be trying to tell him, couldn’t quite believe that what had happened tonight was real-
“Remus!”
The voice was sharper now. Nearer.
He wished it would leave him alone-he couldn’t hear the whispers-
A hand gripped his arm. Shook it. He blinked, choked on a breath.
“Albus,” he rasped.
“My dear boy,” said Dumbledore. “I’m so sorry.” For an instant, the piercing blue eyes were softened by tears. “But the children need you.”
The children.
He looked over to where they huddled together in a corner of the room. Hermione was still unconscious, and Ron was still babbling to himself. Luna sat cross-legged on the floor, talking earnestly to a white-faced Ginny, who had one foot propped up. Neville, hands on his hips, stood at the edge of the group and looked out across the room, turning his head slowly from side to side. Standing sentry, for all that he had no wand.
“Will you take them back to Hogwarts?” Dumbledore released his hold on Remus and polished his spectacles on his sleeve. “I’ve sent Harry on ahead, and I must go to him now.”
“Of course,” said Remus.
Because even in a world where Sirius Black was dead, and Nymphadora Tonks had been knocked out by a Death Eater’s hex, there were things that needed to be done.
“Make a Portkey.” The raw power that Dumbledore usually tempered with calculated whimsy still burned bright tonight, after his confrontation with Voldemort. “If anyone gives you any trouble about it later, I’ll take care of it.”
Remus went to where the children waited, skirting the edge of the room to stay as far away from the Veil as he could, so that the whispers wouldn’t snare him again.
“Still holding up all right?” he asked them, quietly.
“Ginny’s broken her ankle,” said Luna.
Ginny nodded, teeth clenched against the pain.
“Let me put that in a splint for now.” Remus raised his wand and focussed on the spell, on Ginny.
He would not think about the last time he had cast this particular spell, for Ron, on the night when he had learned the truth about Sirius. The night when he was happier than he had been in twelve years.
Ginny sighed in relief. “Thanks.”
“What happened to the girl who fell?” asked Luna. “Will she be all right?”
The room constricted again. Remus could see nothing but the spot where Tonks had crumpled under Bellatrix’s hex.
He forced himself to breathe. In, out. “She doesn’t seem to have any serious injuries,” he said, repeating what Kingsley had told him, praying that it was true. “She’s been taken to St. Mungo’s.”
He had to get the children to Hogwarts.
He couldn’t let himself think about what would happen if he lost Tonks, too.
Breathe. In, out.
“We need a Portkey,” he said. “Neville, will you lend me your necktie?”
“Here, Professor.” Neville unknotted his tie and held it out.
“Portus.” The tie glowed blue. “Neville, you keep a good hold on Ron, and Ginny and Luna, each of you take one of Hermione’s arms, all right?”
The Portkey jerked. They were in the hospital wing at Hogwarts.
It was dark, and all the beds were empty, but the air was heavy with iodine and bitter herbs and disinfectant charms, smells that had marked the aftermath of every full moon for seven years. Smells that used to mean that his three best friends would soon be sneaking in to visit him-
Breathe.
“Poppy?” Remus knocked on the door to the matron’s quarters.
It opened almost at once. “Remus? What are you doing here? Are you all right?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour.” He tried to smile. “But there are students who need your attention.”
Poppy spelled the lights on. She peered out at Ron, still emitting feeble giggles between hiccoughs. At the unconscious Hermione, being lifted clumsily onto a bed by Neville and Luna. At Ginny, favouring her unwieldy splint. “Merlin’s hat!” Poppy tied an apron on over her dressing gown and bustled over. “What have you children been doing?”
The children explained about Ron being attacked by the brain in the tank, and then Poppy bent over Hermione. Ginny sat on another bed, waiting her turn. Neville and Luna hovered.
The children were all safe now. This task, at least, was finished.
“Here’s your tie, Neville.” Remus cast a quick Finite and handed it over. “Thank you.”
Neville worked it under his collar again, tying it neatly, even though it was the middle of the night and he was covered in dirt and bruises and blood from his broken nose.
“You all fought very bravely,” said Remus. “As your former Defence professor, I couldn’t be prouder.” He even managed to find a smile for them. “Stay here until Madam Pomfrey has had a chance to look each of you over, all right? Good night.”
“Good night,” they all said. “Good night, Professor Lupin.”
He turned to go.
And then he turned back. There were more words he had to say. Words that would tear at his voice like broken glass.
“Ginny.” He glanced at Neville and Luna, listening, but it couldn’t be helped. And anyway, they had seen it happen, or at least Neville had. “When Ron and Hermione wake up, be sure to tell them that Sirius is-gone.” He waited for Ginny’s nod. “Harry isn’t taking it so well. He’ll need all of you.”
And then Ginny was looking up at him with Molly’s eyes.
The broken glass burned in his throat.
“Professor Lupin?” She reached out and touched his sleeve, gingerly. “I’m so sorry.”
All he could see was Sirius. Laughing, and then wide-eyed with shock, and then falling, falling-
The warm touch of a hand on his arm. Three faces: pained sympathy, dawning comprehension, and open curiosity.
Breathe.
“Thank you, Ginny.”
With another-failed-attempt at a smile, he turned and walked away, and did not shatter.
Luna’s clear voice floated after him. “Who is Sirius? Is he the man that died?”
“He was Harry’s godfather,” came Ginny’s careful answer. “And Professor Lupin’s friend.”
Remus went on walking, putting one foot in front of the other.
There were things that needed to be done.
~ * ~
Remus slipped in through the front door at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, pausing to reset all the security charms behind him.
The gas lamps were still burning in the hallway, just as they had been when Snape’s summons had arrived, and everyone in the house had charged off to the Ministry.
Everyone in the house.
Even the one who shouldn’t have gone-
Footsteps sounded overhead. Remus froze for an instant, and then cast a Disillusionment Charm. He flattened himself against the peeling wallpaper, wand still drawn. There was nothing like the possibility of encountering the most crazed of all the Death Eaters to focus one’s mind on the present moment.
A shadow stretched across the wall on the first-floor landing.
It was too broad-shouldered to be Bellatrix.
“Kingsley,” called Remus in relief, as the Auror appeared behind his shadow. “Finite.” He stepped back into the light.
“Remus.” Kingsley hurried down the stairs, a bundle of parchments under one arm. “Dumbledore told me there was a chance that ownership of the house might have passed to Bellatrix Lestrange-”
“Yes,” said Remus. “I thought I’d better come back and clean out all the Order’s documents, first thing.”
“I’ve already got everything important that was in the kitchen, and just now I was checking the library,” said Kingsley. “Obvious places first. But we ought to look through the whole house, just in case.”
“How is-Did you-” Breathe. “Any word on Nymphadora’s condition?”
“I stayed with her at St. Mungo’s until a Healer checked her over,” said Kingsley. “They say she may be unconscious for a while, and she’ll have a magnificent headache when she wakes up, but she should be fine.”
“Good,” said Remus, hoarsely. “That’s good.” He swallowed. “I’ll check the bedrooms on the second floor, shall I, while you finish in the library?”
“Is that what you want to do?” Kingsley’s deep voice was gentler than Remus had ever heard it. “I can look over Sirius’s room, if you’d rather do the library.”
“No, that’s all right.” Remus’s own voice echoed oddly in his ears. “He didn’t keep much in the way of Order business in his room. I’ll just give it a quick look, now; we can all clean out our personal effects later.”
Going through Padfoot’s things was, by all rights, a job for a Marauder.
Moony was the only one left.
~ * ~
Next was a message that had to be delivered.
This particular task, Remus would have preferred to leave to someone else. Anyone at all. But Tonks needed to know what had happened, and she deserved to hear it from someone who had cared about Sirius as much as she had.
Only, the first time Remus went to St. Mungo’s, Tonks was still unconscious.
He went as soon as the morning visiting time started, leaving Kingsley to finish combing through the last few rooms at Grimmauld Place. He hardly knew how he’d managed to find Spell Damage, dazed with exhaustion as he was after working through the night. Now he made his way to her bed at the far end of the ward, feeling as though his legs were made of lead, or as though he were slogging through the densest, coldest water at the bottom of the sea.
Remus settled himself in one of the uncomfortable chairs that St. Mungo’s deployed to keep visitors from staying too long. He leaned forward to study Tonks’s pale face, now framed by soft, slightly wavy hair in a delicate shade of light brown he had never seen her wear before. A remote corner of his brain that was still trying to function wondered if perhaps Metamorphmagi reverted to their natural appearance when they lost consciousness.
There were no visible injuries, but she looked just as pale and small now as she had done in the Department of Mysteries, lying crumpled in a heap where Bellatrix’s hex had hit her.
Pale, small, and-fragile.
Remus had never thought of cheeky, capable Tonks as fragile.
He rubbed his hands over his face and fought to clear his cobwebbed mind. She was going to be fine, everyone said.
Fine.
Except for the fact that she’d lost the cousin who made her grin when he mussed her hair and called her “peanut.”
And she didn’t even know it yet.
Breathe.
One of her hands lay on top of the blanket. Remus reached out and touched it. It felt very cold, so he picked it up and chafed it gently-and found that his own hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so terribly sorry. I failed him. Again.”
She lay very still, except for the slightest rise and fall of her chest.
What would happen when she woke? When he told her what had happened?
Everyone said she was going to be fine.
But that didn’t mean Remus wouldn’t lose her friendship, all the same.
He didn’t even know whether he really had the right to call her a friend, even now. He thought-he hoped-the smiles she’d had for him had always seemed real. But all those evenings at Grimmauld Place, when he’d been laughing at her stories, or challenging her to try out more and more difficult hair colours, or generally feeling warm and comfortable in the comradely atmosphere she created so easily-what if she’d only been tolerating him for Sirius’s sake?
What if he would never be anything to her again but a painful reminder of what she had lost?
Of what he hadn’t managed to save?
Breathe.
In, out.
Again. Breathe.
Remus had to count nearly a dozen breaths before the grief, and the pain, and his deep secret terror of being left utterly alone once more, had been forced back to manageable levels.
But he had survived loss before. He could do it this time, too.
And for now, Tonks slept on. Surely his presence wouldn’t do her any harm.
For now.
His shoulders gradually grew stiff, and his back began to throb where he’d been hit by a deflected curse at the Ministry. But he knew nothing beyond the feel of a small cold hand, cradled carefully in his, until finally a mediwitch came to carry out some kind of examination and shooed him away.
~ * ~
“Remus! Come in, come in.” Molly latched onto his arm and all but dragged him inside, settling him into a chair at her worn but well-polished kitchen table and pouring him a cup of tea.
Remus hadn’t been to the Burrow before, but it said Weasley all over-rambling and shabby and comfortable, like a beloved old jumper. The shivering that had taken hold of him sometime in the last few hours even eased a little.
He set a stack of parchments on the table. “How are Ron and Ginny?”
“They’ll be fine.” Her face darkened. “I can’t believe the children all-” But then she stole a quick look at Remus’s own face, and stopped abruptly.
“It’s a good bet you haven’t eaten all day,” she fussed, instead. “Let me fix you a sandwich and heat up some soup.”
“That’s kind of you, Molly, but I’m really not hungry.” His stomach turned at the thought of anything more substantial than tea. “I can only stay for a moment, in any case. But Kingsley and I cleaned all the Order projects out of headquarters last night, and I’ve brought the documents that Bill was working on, and some things that I think are yours and Arthur’s.”
“You spent all night working at headquarters?” Molly’s gaze went right through him much more easily than he had expected; he must be exhausted indeed. “Oh, Remus.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, opening them only to stare fixedly at his teacup. “It was necessary. Sirius-”
His voice cracked.
He swallowed and tried again. “Sirius named Harry in his will as his heir, but it’s possible that some older stipulation is still in force, even so. If the house passes down within the Black family, the first in line is Bellatrix Lestrange.”
“That horrid woman!” Molly’s eyes flashed sparks. “I knew her at school, of course. She was horrid even then, but, goodness! The things she did to poor Frank and Alice Longbottom!”
“It would be most unfortunate if headquarters fell into her hands,” Remus agreed. “Not to mention, most ironic. She was the one who-”
He couldn’t-
Breathe. In, out.
“Oh, Remus,” said Molly again. She sat down in the chair next to his and folded his hand between hers. “I’m so, so sorry.” She blinked back tears. “I know Sirius and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but he never deserved this.”
He let himself cling to her hand, just for a moment.
“Thank you for the tea, Molly.” He was relieved to find that his voice had returned. “I’m afraid I must be on my way. There are a number of things I have to take care of today.”
“Come for dinner, some night soon.” She scowled at him, fierce now. “Promise me. No excuses.”
“I’ll try,” he said.
~ * ~
The second time Remus went to St. Mungo’s, Tonks had visitors.
From where he stood outside the door to Spell Damage, he could see that they were a middle-aged couple. The woman (who looked uncannily like Bellatrix, if considerably saner) was gently stroking Tonks’s fine brown hair, and the man had his arm around the woman’s shoulders.
Her parents. Who, by the look of it, loved her very much. That would help, when she woke up.
Remus turned and slipped quietly away.
~ * ~
His tiny basement flat seemed much smaller and darker than Remus remembered. But of course, he’d hardly spent any time here at all since last spring. Except for full moons, when he wasn’t exactly paying attention to the ambience.
The flat was rather bare, too. Without his noticing, most of his possessions had made their way to Grimmauld Place over the course of the past year. Still, it had taken almost no time at all, just now, for him to clean out the room he had been using at headquarters.
Even if it turned out that the house hadn’t gone over to Bellatrix, Remus doubted he could ever bring himself to live at Grimmauld Place again.
He set his battered suitcase on the floor by the bed.
There would be time enough to unpack later, when he was finished with everything else.
The small rickety table was groaning with parchments-all the Order work he’d dumped there before hurrying to St. Mungo’s this morning. Dumbledore’s spiky handwriting accosted him from the top of the stack. ...need to ask you to borrow an Invisibility Cloak from Alastor and begin a surveillance mission to gather information on Fenrir Greyback’s werewolf pack...
Remus swallowed. That would be dangerous, and possibly quite difficult. Greyback had a terrifying reputation. But at least a new mission would be something to keep his mind occupied.
That was for later, though. Tonight, there was only one more thing he needed to do before he could finally let himself collapse into bed and get some sleep.
If, that is, he could sleep, after-
He hadn’t tried, yet.
~ * ~
The third time Remus went to St. Mungo’s, the mediwitch who had chased him off before was bustling through the Spell Damage ward again.
“You’re here for Miss Tonks, aren’t you? That’s good.” She paused long enough to spare him a harried smile. “Her parents were exhausted, so I sent them home to get some rest, but now she’s started to stir a bit. I wouldn’t be surprised if she woke up soon.”
“Thank Merlin,” Remus whispered, dizzy with relief, even as his stomach clenched in trepidation and his steps turned sluggish.
But even steps he had to force himself to take, one at a time, brought him to her bedside eventually.
He lowered himself back into the uncomfortable visitor’s chair.
Tonks was indeed stirring a little, just as the mediwitch had said. A frown, of pain or worry, creased her brow.
If he hadn’t been so thoroughly fogged with exhaustion, he probably wouldn’t have reached out and caught hold of her hand-not now that she was likely to wake up. But by the time he had realised what he had done, her fingers had wrapped themselves around his.
Remus brushed his thumb over her knuckles, trying once again to warm her icy fingers.
Her hair was still brown, except where light from the setting sun spilled in through the window and washed it in pale orange-gold. Her face was a little less ashen now, but there were dark circles under her eyes.
She frowned again.
And then her eyes blinked open. Her hand clenched around his, almost painfully.
Remus felt all his insides turn to lead.
Here it came. No more putting it off.
Breathe.
“Remus.” Her voice came out as a whisper, and she coughed a little. “Is it over? What happened?” Her glance flicked around the ward. “St. Mungo’s, yeah?”
“It’s over,” he said, not a little surprised to find his own voice working. “For now. And yes, this is St. Mungo’s. It’s evening again-you’ve been unconscious for a day.”
There was a glass of water on the table by the bed. He picked it up and held it out to her.
“Thanks.” She took it in her free hand, keeping her hold on his with the other.
He watched her drink. He took the glass from her again when she was finished. He held her hand gently in his. These things, he could do.
“You look rough, Remus.” Her voice was clearer now. “What happened? The last thing I remember was duelling with dear Auntie Bella-” A look of disgust crossed her face. “She knocked me out, didn’t she. And here I’m supposed to be trained to take down Dark wizards-”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” said Remus, emphatically. “Bellatrix is extremely powerful.” His voice broke, but he took a breath and pushed on. “I saw the hex she hit you with, and you must have cast a phenomenal Shield Charm if all it did was knock you out for a little while.”
“But, what happened?” Tonks asked, for the third time.
Breathe.
“Nymphadora-” he said, without meaning to. He stopped, waiting for her to scold him for using her name.
She didn’t.
Instead, her dark eyes searched his face.
He forced himself not to look away.
She drew a shaky breath, and her grip on his hand tightened again. “Something’s happened. Something bad.”
Breathe.
Again. Breathe.
In, out.
Again.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m afraid so-”
Broken glass in his throat. He couldn’t-
“Remus?”
He had to.
For Nymphadora.
Breathe.
“It’s Sirius,” he whispered. “He’s-”
The words burned like acid, like Fiendfyre.
“-he’s-dead.”
What little colour had returned to Tonks’s face now drained away. Her eyes filled with tears.
With pain.
Breathe.
“How?” she whispered.
“He was duelling.” Remus closed his eyes, but he opened them again quickly when a flood of wrenching images assaulted him. “He was hit, and he fell through the Veil.”
Tonks covered her face with her free hand, but she didn’t let go of his with the other.
Obviously, she hadn’t worked it all out yet.
“I’m sorry.” The words tried to stick in his throat, and he had to grind them out, hoarse and harsh. “I’m so sorry, Nymphadora. I never should have let him leave the house last night.”
He stared at the floor, bracing himself for when she jerked her hand free, for when she rolled away from him and turned her back.
Instead, her fingers tightened around his. She gave his hand a sharp shake.
He stiffened.
“Remus.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Look at me.”
He dragged his gaze up to meet hers.
Behind the tears on her lashes, her dark eyes blazed.
“It’s not your fault.” She gave his hand another squeeze. “You saw what he was like last night. Harry was in danger. An entire herd of hippogriffs wouldn’t have been able to keep Sirius from going to the Ministry.”
This time, it was her thumb that scuffed across his knuckles.
Breathe. In, out.
Again.
“Are-” She swallowed. “Of course you’re not all right.” She searched his face again. “But were you hurt, in the fighting?”
“Nothing to speak of,” he said. “A few bruises.”
“Then-” She flushed, and he stared at the colour that stained her cheeks. Usually she Metamorphosed to hide it. “Would you stay with me, just for a little while?”
She swiped the back of her other hand across her eyes, brushing away most of the tears.
“I could do with a friend, just now,” she whispered.
Her hand was warm in his at last, her grip strong and steady.
And-she had called him a friend.
He held on.
Breathing was a little easier, now.
~ * ~
[ ← Chapter 9 | → Chapter 11 | ↑ Kaleidoscope series index ]
Author’s note: The first scene of this chapter is an expanded version of a ficlet with the same title that was posted at the LiveJournal community day_by_drabble in August 2011. Some of the St. Mungo’s scenes were originally posted as a ficlet, “Clarity”, at the LiveJournal community metamorfic_moon in July 2007.
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