[Kaleidoscope revision] Colours | 12. Blindsided
Chapter 12 of Colours (the first "book" of Kaleidoscope) has been revised and is now up at FanFiction.net. With this chapter, Colours is complete.
Kaleidoscope (I): Colours
12. Blindsided (5590 words | PG)
[also on FF.N] [ original LJ version]
Remus makes a terrifying discovery, but he really should have seen it coming. For her part, Tonks discovers just how much Remus intends to deny himself-and her.
Chapter 12
Blindsided
It was getting to be too dark to write.
Remus squinted at the pieces of parchment that he had spread out across the kitchen table. The days were long now, in late June, but evening sunlight never had learned to find its way in through the high narrow windows of his basement flat.
He stood, and stretched, and attempted to pace, though the flat was really too small to work up any decent momentum. Not like at Grimmauld Place, where on restless days he had wandered the halls and the empty rooms until someone had collared him and made him stop. It might have been Molly, with a cup of tea, or Mad-Eye, with a point of strategy, or one of the twins, with a new Wheeze. Or Tonks, who seemed to know exactly when he needed a joke and when he needed a concrete problem to solve.
Or it might have been Sirius, with a barking laugh or a sullen growl, depending entirely on the kind of day he’d been having. Too many growls, too many bad days-
No.
It wouldn’t do to be thinking about that. Not at all.
At any rate, he was back in his own flat now, where there wasn’t enough room to pace properly, and no one to distract him even if he managed to get himself started pacing-
Enough of that.
He had been delighted with this flat for the whole first year after he’d had to leave Hogwarts. It might be small and dark, but it was dry and secure and he could afford it all on his own.
And, soon enough, if Dumbledore’s plans for him progressed to their logical conclusion, he would likely be wishing he were right back here.
Remus drew a deep breath and let it out, slowly. This close to the full moon, it was harder than usual to keep his thoughts from running in undesired directions. But it was about time he came to terms with the fact that his life at Grimmauld Place, as part of what amounted to an extended family, was over. The Black house stood empty. There were still plans for meetings at the Burrow, but the Order was scattered now; Dumbledore was travelling frequently, the Auror Office had assigned Tonks to Hogsmeade, and Sirius was-
Stop.
Remus fetched a glass of water and sat at the table again, which was now completely in shadow. Absently, he waved his wand. A pair of candles flared to life, and his own square handwriting came into focus: ...three abandoned houses along the river... approximately two dozen residents in the encampment... no visible means of support aside from theft, hunting small animals in the wood, and scavenging rubbish...
He took a sip from his glass and picked up his quill.
His current mission for the Order was to lurk in the wood, under the Invisibility Cloak he’d borrowed from Moody, and gather information about Fenrir Greyback’s werewolf pack. Dumbledore hadn’t yet said anything about any long-term objectives for this particular mission. But after Hagrid had been sent to make contact with the giants last year, Remus didn’t need Sybill Trelawney’s crystal ball to see where this was heading.
Sirius would have tweaked him, mercilessly. All that practice nicking puddings from the kitchens at Hogwarts was bound to pay off someday, he might have said. Or, Squatting in abandoned houses? Sounds like they’ve got the same flair for design as you have, Moony.
It would have helped.
The quill snapped in his fingers. Remus started, cursing under his breath. But a careful Evanesco took care of the ink splatters, and a Reparo mended the quill well enough-he didn’t have so many that he could afford to throw this one out.
“That’s what you get for wool-gathering,” he muttered, bending over his parchment once more. He worked on in silence, managing at last to keep his thoughts away from everything but his observations of the werewolf camp.
Until, not ten minutes later, a silvery light-brighter than his candles-filled the room.
He tensed, waiting for a warning or a call to arms, but Tonks’s jackrabbit Patronus merely loped around him once and nudged his arm with its whiskery nose. “Oi, Remus,” it said. “It’s been a bloody long day. I’m knackered, and I could use a drink with a friend. Want to meet up at the Three Broomsticks?”
The silver jackrabbit faded away, but Remus sat staring at the spot where it had been.
A drink with a friend.
He’d always marvelled at the fact that Tonks seemed to be so willing to give up her free time just to help keep Sirius company. But could she actually be missing those evenings in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place just as he was?
Remus poked at a scrap of parchment with his quill. As much as he longed for company-for Tonks’s company-he supposed he really ought to stay in tonight and finish getting his mission notes together, so that he could send them off to Dumbledore. And money spent on a round of drinks at a tavern now might mean a missed meal or two later.
But it was less than a week since Tonks had been released from St. Mungo’s. Only days since she had returned to work. She was grieving. If she wanted company, how could he possibly tell her no?
Especially since this was the second time she had indisputably called him a friend.
Remus sent his own Patronus off to find her, gathered up his notes, and went poking around in the wardrobe in search of his least shabby set of robes.
And then he realised that, for the first time in days, he was grinning.
~ * ~
Tonks paced back and forth in the little bedroom she had chosen for herself in the Aurors’ hired cottage in Hogsmeade, occasionally tripping over the clothes that had already begun to drift in piles on the floor.
Remus would answer her message-of course he would-he was much too polite not to answer-
But what would he say?
Please, was the part of her own message she hadn’t sent. Please say you’ll come.
It seemed impossible that Sirius could be gone, that she would no longer hear his sharp bark of a laugh, or see that odd flash of almost paternal pride that should have annoyed her but was oddly endearing instead. Impossible that he would never have a chance to prove his innocence and live a life outside the house he so loathed.
And it made it all so much worse that the Order had been turned out of Grimmauld Place, and the Ministry had assigned her to dementor patrol all the way out here in Hogsmeade. She was on her own now.
Anything familiar would have helped-Molly’s fussing, say, or Mad-Eye’s paranoia. But what she really wanted was to spend the evening with Remus. She’d got so used to that, these last months; used to his quiet humour, his brilliant schemes, his warm kindness. Used to the way he understood her so well, seeing beyond what she said to what she was really thinking.
Except, of course, for the fact that he remained stubbornly oblivious to any attempt she made to flirt with him.
Tonks stopped pacing long enough to peer out the small round window in the south wall of her room. She knew perfectly well that a Patronus message could pass through walls, but that didn’t stop her from pulling the window wide open all the same.
Remus did think of her as a friend, not just someone to be polite to at Grimmauld Place. She was certain of it now. Especially since he had so clearly been looking after her when he showed her his refuge by the sea. And he’d stuck right by her side during the Order mission to warn the Dursleys off at King’s Cross the day before, when the students had gone home from Hogwarts.
But did he miss her as much as she missed him?
Would he meet her tonight?
Or was he grieving alone, withdrawing inside himself? Pulling away from the people who cared about him, just as he had done once before?
That prospect frightened her more than anything.
Finally-finally-a swirl of silver filled the room. His voice followed, that quiet voice that could hold such warmth sometimes.
It was warm now.
“A drink at the Three Broomsticks sounds very nice,” it said. “I can meet you there in a quarter of an hour.”
Tonks whooped and punched the air, grinning like a loon.
~ * ~
Remus caught himself smiling again when he looked in the mirror to comb his hair. He rather thought he must have smiled more in the last fifteen minutes than he had in all the days since that night at the Ministry.
But thinking of Tonks simply made him smile. There was nothing for it. He had never expected to find another friend that would mean as much to him as Sirius and James (and Peter, once) had done, but there it was. She was warmth, and colour, and mischief. She was brave and clever-she made a damned good Auror-and she was loyal to the point of stubbornness.
Even to him. Even after she learned what he was.
She was grieving now, of course, so the colour was dimmed, but the warmth and the loyalty were there in spades. He wanted to soak up a little of that warmth, and maybe offer her a little in return, if he could.
And he wanted to-he-
He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until they were both breathless.
What?
Remus sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. The comb slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.
Where on earth had that come from?
He stared at a crack in the wall, hearing his own breathing grow harsh and uneven as the truth slowly forced its way to the surface of his thoughts. This was why he couldn’t stop thinking about her, why spending time with her made things feel so much better even through the ache of grief. Why it hurt so deeply to know that she was grieving, too.
It was completely impossible. Inconceivable.
Unforgivable.
And yet-
He had fallen in love with Nymphadora Tonks.
~ * ~
Tonks pushed open the door of the Three Broomsticks. Light and noise spilled out into an evening that was damp and foggy even for Scotland, thanks to the dementors. But she had spent all day renewing the charms and spells that kept them out of Hogsmeade and away from Hogwarts, and so tonight, at least, ought to be safe enough. Besides, Proudfoot and Savage were out there somewhere, patrolling for the night shift.
The pub was crowded, as usual. Madam Rosmerta was at the top of her form, chatting with each of the regulars long enough to make them feel special while still keeping all the drinks coming.
Tonks returned her cheerful hello and settled on a butterbeer-it would be an early morning tomorrow. Remus wasn’t there yet, so she staked out a booth in an almost-quiet corner and sipped at her drink.
Out of professional habit and natural curiosity, she scanned the room, watching people, trying to guess what they were like or what they were talking about. But it was a tall gangly boy in the opposite corner with his arm wrapped cosily around a girl that drew her eye. The two of them giggled, and then he leaned down for a quick sloppy kiss.
Tonks sighed, and turned around to watch some Hufflepuffs she knew from school play at Dynamite Darts instead, feeling a little brighter when Robbie McInnis’s dart hit the bull’s-eye and exploded in a shower of yellow sparks.
~ * ~
Remus stood with a lurch and replaced the comb on a shelf in his clothes-cupboard. He tried again to pace, with no more success than before.
This was ridiculous. He, Remus Lupin, did not fall in love.
Could not.
Must not.
He’d had a schoolboy crush, once, in his fourth year. There was a pretty Ravenclaw girl-he couldn’t even remember her name, now-in double Herbology. He used to watch her working with the plants in the greenhouse. He had even begun to daydream about asking her to go with him on the next Hogsmeade weekend.
But then came the nightmare. Four or five nights in a row. He would wake up, sweaty and shouting, the details of the dream mercifully fading from memory-except for the moon, and sharp teeth, and much too much blood.
He was only fourteen at the time, but he sat down and thought things through just as methodically as he would for any homework assignment. It quickly became all too clear that if he ever ended up with a girlfriend, not only would he have to tell her his secret, but-assuming she didn’t immediately break things off with him on learning what he was-he would put her in danger if a mistake were made at the full moon.
That was completely out of the question.
So, the only responsible decision he could make was to put the pretty Ravenclaw girl out of his mind, and simply make certain never to fall in love.
And he never had.
The closest he had come was probably with Lily. If things had been different-if one of his best mates hadn’t been in love with her already, and if he himself hadn’t been a danger to society-maybe he would have fallen for her. But they were always just very good friends.
And so Remus had watched all of Hogwarts flirting and squabbling, but he had stayed out of the fray. Whenever James or Sirius (or Peter) teased him about his perennial single status, he would only shrug and insist, “Werewolves do not have girlfriends.” And after leaving Hogwarts, he had moved around too frequently to allow any dangerous attachments to form.
But now-now, he had managed to do just what he had sworn he never would.
Remus dropped onto the edge of the bed again, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.
The right thing to do would be to keep himself far, far away from Nymphadora until this blew over. No matter how long that might take.
But the very thought made him feel cold.
Desolate.
He was so weak, so selfish-but he simply didn’t have the strength to walk away from the most important friendship he had left in his life. Especially not now, not when Sirius’s death was still a raw wound in his heart.
Remus sighed and got to his feet again, smoothing down his robes.
At least there was one thing working in his favour: Nymphadora would never, in a million years, even begin to imagine that a shabby, greying werewolf might be developing inappropriate feelings for her. So it couldn’t really do any harm to go on being friends, as long as he never, under any circumstances, let slip that he felt something more than friendship.
He met his own troubled eyes in the mirror and nodded once, sharply. He could do this. It would be all right. He wouldn’t have to lose his last best mate.
He would simply have to be very, very careful.
~ * ~
As noisy as the Dynamite Darts game was, Tonks heard the door when it opened. She turned.
And grinned, with relief as much as anything.
Remus looked just about the same as always tonight, except for the shadows under his eyes. Well, actually, he did look a bit gaunt, now that Molly couldn’t just follow him around Grimmauld Place and feed him regular meals. But the stiff, distant look he’d been wearing lately was gone, and she even thought she could see traces of a smile.
He exchanged a pleasant greeting with Rosmerta and looked all around the pub before he spotted Tonks waving at him from her corner booth. Then he did smile, for real, and she felt her stomach turn over, just as it always did when he smiled at her like that.
“Hello,” he said, sliding into the opposite side of the booth with a butterbeer for each of them.
“Wotcher.” She clinked her frothy mug against his. “Thanks for coming.”
“It’s good to have a night out.” He peered at her in the dim light, and his voice softened. “How are you doing?”
Her smile wavered. “Okay, mostly. You?”
He huffed an almost-laugh. “Same here.”
She cast about for something cheerful to say. “I saw Fred today. Have you heard what he and George are up to now?”
His face relaxed into a smile again. “I’m sure I couldn’t begin to guess.”
“Well,” said Tonks, conspiratorially. She leaned across the table and rested her hand on Remus’s for emphasis-and because she would take any excuse she could find to touch him, not that it ever made any difference. “I ran into him outside Zonko’s today, and ribbed him about spying on the competition. ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ he said, with the biggest smirk-”
And she stopped, because something was wrong. Remus had gone so tense that he was hardly even breathing.
He was staring at her hand where it lay covering his.
Disappointment slammed hard, right in the gut. He had always tolerated her touch, even if he hadn’t seemed to notice it particularly, or try to touch her in return. What could have changed?
Maybe it was because he was grieving. Maybe he needed more space, now.
She sat up straighter and pulled her hand away, making to grab her mug and take a sip of butterbeer to cover her embarrassment.
But he looked up as soon as she moved her hand, and she saw surprise in his eyes. And-could it possibly be-disappointment?
It was her turn to freeze.
“Go on,” said Remus. His smile was off-centre, and his voice a little hoarse. “What about Fred, then?”
“Erm,” said Tonks. She had totally forgotten what she had been saying. “So-he told me he and George have signed a lease for a shop on Diagon Alley.”
“A joke shop?” His eyes held open delight, now, and a touch of something that might even be pride. “They must be doing well with their owl-order business.”
“To hear Minerva and Snape complain about all the new pranks floating around at Hogwarts, I would say so.” Tonks grinned, awash with relief that she hadn’t somehow put Remus off.
He grinned back, and took a swallow of butterbeer. Tonks noticed, again, how thin and worn his face was.
“I could do with a bit of a nosh,” she said, keeping her tone deliberately casual. “How about you?” Without waiting for Remus to answer-because he would only say that he wasn’t hungry-she slid out of the booth and fought her way through the crowded pub to the bar. She secured a basket of chips and a bottle of vinegar and started back across the room, smiling apologies at the people she knocked into as she passed.
~ * ~
Remus couldn’t look away.
He couldn’t stop watching Nymphadora’s slow, noisy, clumsy progress through the crowd, holding a basket of chips above her head-a basket of chips he couldn’t afford to buy for her.
He couldn’t stop watching even when she paused to exchange a few words with the gaggle of young men playing Dynamite Darts. Young men her own age, with good haircuts and shiny black dragonhide jackets, and jeans that were comfortably shabby on purpose, like hers, not threadbare from shameful necessity as his own trousers were. Young men who were handsome and healthy, who weren’t already starting to feel the exhaustion that the moon brought him every four weeks.
Remus was too old for Nymphadora, and too poor for anyone. All he had to contribute to a hypothetical relationship was the social ostracism that lycanthropy guaranteed. Even if it hadn’t been for the literal danger that he posed at the full moon, the best thing he could do for Nymphadora, if he truly cared for her-Merlin, but I care for her-was to keep that sentiment well and truly buried.
And so he would.
But he couldn’t look away.
Especially when she turned away from the darts game, and smiled, and it was for him.
~ * ~
Halfway back to their quiet corner table, Tonks nearly dropped the basket of chips. Remus was staring at her, and there was something in his eyes that she had never seen before.
Could it possibly mean-
Surely not.
Sirius had insisted that Remus was right on the brink of falling for her. But she wanted to believe that so badly, she was in great danger of seeing all kinds of things that weren’t actually there.
Tonks delivered the chips safely to their table and took her place in the booth again. “You like vinegar, don’t you?” She held the bottle poised above the basket, giving him a chance to stop her.
“Whatever you like,” he said, with a small smile. “I’m really not hungry.”
And pigs fly, thought Tonks. She applied vinegar liberally and pushed the basket closer to him. “Go on-you don’t have to be hungry to enjoy some chips, and I can’t eat all these myself.”
Remus hesitated, but then he picked up a chip and saluted her with it. “Thank you.”
His smile was normal. The tone of his voice was normal. His reluctance to accept a treat was completely normal. Tonks decided that she must have been imagining things, after all.
She took a deep swallow of butterbeer to wash away the stab of disappointment. Remus was one of the best friends she had ever had, and she was lucky she still had his friendship after all that had happened in the last week and a half. It was too much to be wishing for more.
They munched on the chips, companionably. Remus described the odd characters he’d seen in Knockturn Alley whilst keeping watch outside Borgin & Burkes for the Order recently, and Tonks listened, soothed by the familiar rhythm of his voice. She took a chip and dipped it into the puddle of vinegar at the bottom of the basket before popping it into her mouth. Her eyes drifted closed, and she smiled in pure bliss at the salty, tangy taste.
Remus fell abruptly silent.
Surprised, she looked up to find him staring at her again, with a very odd expression-a sort of hesitant fascination. She grinned at him. To her utter amazement, Remus, the master of composure, cleared his throat and fumbled with his mug before picking up the thread of his story.
Tonks held her breath, watching him flounder.
Maybe he wasn’t entirely the same as always.
~ * ~
Acting normal in Nymphadora’s company was turning out to be much more difficult than Remus had anticipated.
He’d thought he was good at hiding his feelings from others, or even shutting them off completely. Loneliness, grief, humiliation, anger, fear-those, he could generally hide quite well, and just get on with things.
But tonight, he couldn’t seem to keep his reactions under control. It must be because he had no experience at all in dealing with attraction.
With love.
Nymphadora touched him again, just a light brush of her hand against his as she talked. This was nothing new-she touched him all the time, on the hand or on the arm, and he’d always been secretly warmed by it. But he had thought he was simply finding comfort in her generous spirit, in the fact that she didn’t seem to mind touching a werewolf.
Tonight, her touch was tongues of flame and needles of ice against his skin. All he could think about was how much he wanted to reach out and touch her, how badly he wanted to feel the smooth warm skin of her wrist (or her cheek, or the nape of her neck) under his fingers.
He fought to keep his breathing even, his smiles steady and friendly. But her bright, warm laugh was enough to make him completely forget what he was saying, and he shivered helplessly every time her lips closed around one of those blasted chips.
There was a couple in the corner booth on the other side of the pub; a tall young man had his arm around a lovely young woman, who was snuggled up close. Remus couldn’t keep himself from imagining what it would feel like to slide round the table and sit next to Nymphadora, to pull her up against him, to feel her warmth all along his side-
He drew a shaky breath. This had to stop.
Nymphadora was staring at him again, undoubtedly wondering what was wrong with him tonight. He produced a laugh, and ate a chip, and said humorous things until she relaxed.
He had to learn to control his thoughts before he managed to ruin this friendship completely.
But surely, all he needed was a little more practice.
~ * ~
Tonks had meant to go home fairly early. She had to work a long shift the next day.
But Remus was reacting to her touch tonight. He was-she was certain of it now. And he kept watching her when he thought she wasn’t looking, drinking her in as though he were trying to memorise her face.
So she didn’t even think about leaving until she realised that Madam Rosmerta was actually putting chairs up on tables around them. They laughed, and apologised, and hurried outside.
“You’re staying in Hogsmeade now, aren’t you?” asked Remus, with a rasp in his voice that made Tonks shiver. “Let me walk you home.”
“I am, and thanks,” she said, trying to keep the elation out of her own voice. The last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm him, now that she was finally making progress.
But it seemed he didn’t want the evening to end, either.
She took his arm, exulting in the way his breath hitched when her fingers wrapped around his sleeve. They set off down the winding lanes in easy, comfortable silence. Crickets chirped, unfazed by the dementors’ chill, and the faint scent of early-summer flowers hung in the air.
All too soon, though, they had reached the Aurors’ cottage gate.
“Thanks for the company tonight. This was a nice idea.” Remus gave her that smile again, the one that made his face light up. The one he only used when he really meant it. “Good night, Tonks.”
She grinned back.
But then she saw that he was staring at her again.
She couldn’t breathe. His eyes were so warm, so kind-and yet there was something new there, a kind of wistful longing-
Did she dare?
It was indisputable that he had been acting differently tonight-and the longing in his eyes made her heart twist-
The night sounds had gone still around them. Her pulse was pounding in her ears.
Before she could give herself a chance to change her mind, she stepped closer, put her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him.
He went rigid.
Wrong guess, Tonks. Her heart plummeted. Brilliant.
She started to pull away.
But then Remus gave a shuddering sigh.
He caught hold of her and pulled her closer, one hand on her shoulder and one settling against the small of her back. His lips began to move against hers, tentatively at first, and then with a sweet, gentle hunger that almost broke her heart.
She slid one hand from his shoulder down his back. His fingers stroked along the nape of her neck and tangled in her hair. He tasted of butterbeer, and smelled of dusty parchment and clean white soap.
The kiss was everything Tonks had ached for, all these endless months.
And it lasted all of ten seconds before Remus abruptly broke the embrace and stumbled a few steps back.
“What-?” she whispered, reaching for him, but he only backed further away.
“Nymphadora,” he said hoarsely. “Stop.” In the light from the street-lamps, his face was white and drawn. “We can’t do this.”
He was deeply frightened, she realised-almost terrified. She had never seen him afraid before, not even that horrible night at the Ministry.
It made no sense. He couldn’t possibly be afraid of her.
“Why not?” She stepped toward him again. “Remus, I love you!”
He flinched as though she had slapped him. “Then you’ve simply got to stop.”
It was her turn to flinch. Those words, in that harsh distant tone-that hurt. But Tonks saw anguish in his eyes now, alongside the fear. She stared, bewildered. “I thought-tonight-I thought you had started to care for me, too.”
His sweet, searing kiss couldn’t possibly have meant anything else.
Remus looked away. His breathing was ragged and shallow, his hands clenched so tightly into fists that the tendons stood out on his arms.
“Don’t you?” Her voice cracked.
“It doesn’t matter.” He studied her purple trainers. The fists did not unclench. “You have to forget about this.”
“That’s not an answer,” she breathed, realising. She stepped closer again, crossing her arms, and glared. “Look at me and answer the question, Remus. Do you love me, at all?”
He stood, frozen. Silent.
The crickets started chirping again.
Tonks held her breath.
Finally, Remus dragged his gaze upward. She didn’t know what she had expected to see when he met her eyes, but it wasn’t this hopeless bleakness, this desolate resignation.
He held her gaze for a heartbeat or two. Then, very quietly: “Yes.”
The flood of relief his answer brought was so intense, she felt the warning prickle of imminent tears. She scrubbed hastily at her face and opened her mouth to speak.
He shook his head, cutting her off. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve known all my life that I must be alone.”
“No!” It was just as Sirius had said, then. She had to make Remus see how wrong this was. “That’s daft-it doesn’t have to be that way-”
“Oh, yes, it does.” His laugh was harsh. Bitter. “Being with me is much too dangerous-you, of all people, should understand the risks; you’re trained in fighting Dark Creatures-” He took a deep breath and looked away. “I could never put anyone in danger like that, especially not someone I...” He swallowed. “Someone I care about.”
Tonks had dreamed of kissing Remus for months. Sometimes she had pictured him falling happily into her arms. Other times, she had cried herself to sleep, imagining his kind, regretful voice telling her that she was a good friend, but he just couldn’t think of her that way.
Never in a million years had she expected him to tell her that he loved her and then walk away.
“Remus. Listen.” He wouldn’t look at her, but she pushed on. “I do know what the risks are, but doesn’t that mean I know how to protect myself?”
“It’s simply out of the question.” He shook his head, still staring at her feet. “Just forget all about this. About me. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You’ll find someone else to love-someone who isn’t too old for you, and too poor, and too dangerous.”
Tonks frowned fiercely up at him. “Do you think that what I feel is some kind of passing fancy?” She fought to find words that would make him see reason. “I-this isn’t-you can’t-”
He touched her cheek, very gently, with unsteady fingertips. “I’m sorry, Nymphadora.”
The pain in his eyes tore at her like a knife.
Then, before she could say another word, he turned away and Disapparated, leaving her alone in the darkness.
Except that she wasn’t, quite. Crickets still chirped. A laugh rang out from a lane or two away. The street-lamp spilled a puddle of light at her feet.
And now at least she knew for a fact that Remus loved her.
“This isn’t how it ends, Remus Lupin,” she said, finding steel in her voice. “We aren’t finished.”
~ fin ~
[ ← Chapter 11 | → Part II: Mirrors (revision coming soon) | ↑ Kaleidoscope series index ]
Author’s note: This chapter incorporates parts of two ficlets that were posted at the rt_challenge community on LiveJournal in January 2007 under the titles “Blindsided” and “Unattainable.” [August 2013: Small edits made to bring the story into compliance with the new information about Tonks's Patronus released at Pottermore.]
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Kaleidoscope (I): Colours
12. Blindsided (5590 words | PG)
[also on FF.N] [ original LJ version]
Remus makes a terrifying discovery, but he really should have seen it coming. For her part, Tonks discovers just how much Remus intends to deny himself-and her.
- What has changed: A few details have been edited to better fit with the canon timeline. There is now a little more about the kiss, because after all, it's the only one they’ll get for a long time. More ‘too old’ and ‘too poor,’ to go along with ‘too dangerous.’ And more about how much Remus needs Tonks as a friend, despite new complications.
Chapter 12
Blindsided
It was getting to be too dark to write.
Remus squinted at the pieces of parchment that he had spread out across the kitchen table. The days were long now, in late June, but evening sunlight never had learned to find its way in through the high narrow windows of his basement flat.
He stood, and stretched, and attempted to pace, though the flat was really too small to work up any decent momentum. Not like at Grimmauld Place, where on restless days he had wandered the halls and the empty rooms until someone had collared him and made him stop. It might have been Molly, with a cup of tea, or Mad-Eye, with a point of strategy, or one of the twins, with a new Wheeze. Or Tonks, who seemed to know exactly when he needed a joke and when he needed a concrete problem to solve.
Or it might have been Sirius, with a barking laugh or a sullen growl, depending entirely on the kind of day he’d been having. Too many growls, too many bad days-
No.
It wouldn’t do to be thinking about that. Not at all.
At any rate, he was back in his own flat now, where there wasn’t enough room to pace properly, and no one to distract him even if he managed to get himself started pacing-
Enough of that.
He had been delighted with this flat for the whole first year after he’d had to leave Hogwarts. It might be small and dark, but it was dry and secure and he could afford it all on his own.
And, soon enough, if Dumbledore’s plans for him progressed to their logical conclusion, he would likely be wishing he were right back here.
Remus drew a deep breath and let it out, slowly. This close to the full moon, it was harder than usual to keep his thoughts from running in undesired directions. But it was about time he came to terms with the fact that his life at Grimmauld Place, as part of what amounted to an extended family, was over. The Black house stood empty. There were still plans for meetings at the Burrow, but the Order was scattered now; Dumbledore was travelling frequently, the Auror Office had assigned Tonks to Hogsmeade, and Sirius was-
Stop.
Remus fetched a glass of water and sat at the table again, which was now completely in shadow. Absently, he waved his wand. A pair of candles flared to life, and his own square handwriting came into focus: ...three abandoned houses along the river... approximately two dozen residents in the encampment... no visible means of support aside from theft, hunting small animals in the wood, and scavenging rubbish...
He took a sip from his glass and picked up his quill.
His current mission for the Order was to lurk in the wood, under the Invisibility Cloak he’d borrowed from Moody, and gather information about Fenrir Greyback’s werewolf pack. Dumbledore hadn’t yet said anything about any long-term objectives for this particular mission. But after Hagrid had been sent to make contact with the giants last year, Remus didn’t need Sybill Trelawney’s crystal ball to see where this was heading.
Sirius would have tweaked him, mercilessly. All that practice nicking puddings from the kitchens at Hogwarts was bound to pay off someday, he might have said. Or, Squatting in abandoned houses? Sounds like they’ve got the same flair for design as you have, Moony.
It would have helped.
The quill snapped in his fingers. Remus started, cursing under his breath. But a careful Evanesco took care of the ink splatters, and a Reparo mended the quill well enough-he didn’t have so many that he could afford to throw this one out.
“That’s what you get for wool-gathering,” he muttered, bending over his parchment once more. He worked on in silence, managing at last to keep his thoughts away from everything but his observations of the werewolf camp.
Until, not ten minutes later, a silvery light-brighter than his candles-filled the room.
He tensed, waiting for a warning or a call to arms, but Tonks’s jackrabbit Patronus merely loped around him once and nudged his arm with its whiskery nose. “Oi, Remus,” it said. “It’s been a bloody long day. I’m knackered, and I could use a drink with a friend. Want to meet up at the Three Broomsticks?”
The silver jackrabbit faded away, but Remus sat staring at the spot where it had been.
A drink with a friend.
He’d always marvelled at the fact that Tonks seemed to be so willing to give up her free time just to help keep Sirius company. But could she actually be missing those evenings in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place just as he was?
Remus poked at a scrap of parchment with his quill. As much as he longed for company-for Tonks’s company-he supposed he really ought to stay in tonight and finish getting his mission notes together, so that he could send them off to Dumbledore. And money spent on a round of drinks at a tavern now might mean a missed meal or two later.
But it was less than a week since Tonks had been released from St. Mungo’s. Only days since she had returned to work. She was grieving. If she wanted company, how could he possibly tell her no?
Especially since this was the second time she had indisputably called him a friend.
Remus sent his own Patronus off to find her, gathered up his notes, and went poking around in the wardrobe in search of his least shabby set of robes.
And then he realised that, for the first time in days, he was grinning.
~ * ~
Tonks paced back and forth in the little bedroom she had chosen for herself in the Aurors’ hired cottage in Hogsmeade, occasionally tripping over the clothes that had already begun to drift in piles on the floor.
Remus would answer her message-of course he would-he was much too polite not to answer-
But what would he say?
Please, was the part of her own message she hadn’t sent. Please say you’ll come.
It seemed impossible that Sirius could be gone, that she would no longer hear his sharp bark of a laugh, or see that odd flash of almost paternal pride that should have annoyed her but was oddly endearing instead. Impossible that he would never have a chance to prove his innocence and live a life outside the house he so loathed.
And it made it all so much worse that the Order had been turned out of Grimmauld Place, and the Ministry had assigned her to dementor patrol all the way out here in Hogsmeade. She was on her own now.
Anything familiar would have helped-Molly’s fussing, say, or Mad-Eye’s paranoia. But what she really wanted was to spend the evening with Remus. She’d got so used to that, these last months; used to his quiet humour, his brilliant schemes, his warm kindness. Used to the way he understood her so well, seeing beyond what she said to what she was really thinking.
Except, of course, for the fact that he remained stubbornly oblivious to any attempt she made to flirt with him.
Tonks stopped pacing long enough to peer out the small round window in the south wall of her room. She knew perfectly well that a Patronus message could pass through walls, but that didn’t stop her from pulling the window wide open all the same.
Remus did think of her as a friend, not just someone to be polite to at Grimmauld Place. She was certain of it now. Especially since he had so clearly been looking after her when he showed her his refuge by the sea. And he’d stuck right by her side during the Order mission to warn the Dursleys off at King’s Cross the day before, when the students had gone home from Hogwarts.
But did he miss her as much as she missed him?
Would he meet her tonight?
Or was he grieving alone, withdrawing inside himself? Pulling away from the people who cared about him, just as he had done once before?
That prospect frightened her more than anything.
Finally-finally-a swirl of silver filled the room. His voice followed, that quiet voice that could hold such warmth sometimes.
It was warm now.
“A drink at the Three Broomsticks sounds very nice,” it said. “I can meet you there in a quarter of an hour.”
Tonks whooped and punched the air, grinning like a loon.
~ * ~
Remus caught himself smiling again when he looked in the mirror to comb his hair. He rather thought he must have smiled more in the last fifteen minutes than he had in all the days since that night at the Ministry.
But thinking of Tonks simply made him smile. There was nothing for it. He had never expected to find another friend that would mean as much to him as Sirius and James (and Peter, once) had done, but there it was. She was warmth, and colour, and mischief. She was brave and clever-she made a damned good Auror-and she was loyal to the point of stubbornness.
Even to him. Even after she learned what he was.
She was grieving now, of course, so the colour was dimmed, but the warmth and the loyalty were there in spades. He wanted to soak up a little of that warmth, and maybe offer her a little in return, if he could.
And he wanted to-he-
He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until they were both breathless.
What?
Remus sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. The comb slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.
Where on earth had that come from?
He stared at a crack in the wall, hearing his own breathing grow harsh and uneven as the truth slowly forced its way to the surface of his thoughts. This was why he couldn’t stop thinking about her, why spending time with her made things feel so much better even through the ache of grief. Why it hurt so deeply to know that she was grieving, too.
It was completely impossible. Inconceivable.
Unforgivable.
And yet-
He had fallen in love with Nymphadora Tonks.
~ * ~
Tonks pushed open the door of the Three Broomsticks. Light and noise spilled out into an evening that was damp and foggy even for Scotland, thanks to the dementors. But she had spent all day renewing the charms and spells that kept them out of Hogsmeade and away from Hogwarts, and so tonight, at least, ought to be safe enough. Besides, Proudfoot and Savage were out there somewhere, patrolling for the night shift.
The pub was crowded, as usual. Madam Rosmerta was at the top of her form, chatting with each of the regulars long enough to make them feel special while still keeping all the drinks coming.
Tonks returned her cheerful hello and settled on a butterbeer-it would be an early morning tomorrow. Remus wasn’t there yet, so she staked out a booth in an almost-quiet corner and sipped at her drink.
Out of professional habit and natural curiosity, she scanned the room, watching people, trying to guess what they were like or what they were talking about. But it was a tall gangly boy in the opposite corner with his arm wrapped cosily around a girl that drew her eye. The two of them giggled, and then he leaned down for a quick sloppy kiss.
Tonks sighed, and turned around to watch some Hufflepuffs she knew from school play at Dynamite Darts instead, feeling a little brighter when Robbie McInnis’s dart hit the bull’s-eye and exploded in a shower of yellow sparks.
~ * ~
Remus stood with a lurch and replaced the comb on a shelf in his clothes-cupboard. He tried again to pace, with no more success than before.
This was ridiculous. He, Remus Lupin, did not fall in love.
Could not.
Must not.
He’d had a schoolboy crush, once, in his fourth year. There was a pretty Ravenclaw girl-he couldn’t even remember her name, now-in double Herbology. He used to watch her working with the plants in the greenhouse. He had even begun to daydream about asking her to go with him on the next Hogsmeade weekend.
But then came the nightmare. Four or five nights in a row. He would wake up, sweaty and shouting, the details of the dream mercifully fading from memory-except for the moon, and sharp teeth, and much too much blood.
He was only fourteen at the time, but he sat down and thought things through just as methodically as he would for any homework assignment. It quickly became all too clear that if he ever ended up with a girlfriend, not only would he have to tell her his secret, but-assuming she didn’t immediately break things off with him on learning what he was-he would put her in danger if a mistake were made at the full moon.
That was completely out of the question.
So, the only responsible decision he could make was to put the pretty Ravenclaw girl out of his mind, and simply make certain never to fall in love.
And he never had.
The closest he had come was probably with Lily. If things had been different-if one of his best mates hadn’t been in love with her already, and if he himself hadn’t been a danger to society-maybe he would have fallen for her. But they were always just very good friends.
And so Remus had watched all of Hogwarts flirting and squabbling, but he had stayed out of the fray. Whenever James or Sirius (or Peter) teased him about his perennial single status, he would only shrug and insist, “Werewolves do not have girlfriends.” And after leaving Hogwarts, he had moved around too frequently to allow any dangerous attachments to form.
But now-now, he had managed to do just what he had sworn he never would.
Remus dropped onto the edge of the bed again, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.
The right thing to do would be to keep himself far, far away from Nymphadora until this blew over. No matter how long that might take.
But the very thought made him feel cold.
Desolate.
He was so weak, so selfish-but he simply didn’t have the strength to walk away from the most important friendship he had left in his life. Especially not now, not when Sirius’s death was still a raw wound in his heart.
Remus sighed and got to his feet again, smoothing down his robes.
At least there was one thing working in his favour: Nymphadora would never, in a million years, even begin to imagine that a shabby, greying werewolf might be developing inappropriate feelings for her. So it couldn’t really do any harm to go on being friends, as long as he never, under any circumstances, let slip that he felt something more than friendship.
He met his own troubled eyes in the mirror and nodded once, sharply. He could do this. It would be all right. He wouldn’t have to lose his last best mate.
He would simply have to be very, very careful.
~ * ~
As noisy as the Dynamite Darts game was, Tonks heard the door when it opened. She turned.
And grinned, with relief as much as anything.
Remus looked just about the same as always tonight, except for the shadows under his eyes. Well, actually, he did look a bit gaunt, now that Molly couldn’t just follow him around Grimmauld Place and feed him regular meals. But the stiff, distant look he’d been wearing lately was gone, and she even thought she could see traces of a smile.
He exchanged a pleasant greeting with Rosmerta and looked all around the pub before he spotted Tonks waving at him from her corner booth. Then he did smile, for real, and she felt her stomach turn over, just as it always did when he smiled at her like that.
“Hello,” he said, sliding into the opposite side of the booth with a butterbeer for each of them.
“Wotcher.” She clinked her frothy mug against his. “Thanks for coming.”
“It’s good to have a night out.” He peered at her in the dim light, and his voice softened. “How are you doing?”
Her smile wavered. “Okay, mostly. You?”
He huffed an almost-laugh. “Same here.”
She cast about for something cheerful to say. “I saw Fred today. Have you heard what he and George are up to now?”
His face relaxed into a smile again. “I’m sure I couldn’t begin to guess.”
“Well,” said Tonks, conspiratorially. She leaned across the table and rested her hand on Remus’s for emphasis-and because she would take any excuse she could find to touch him, not that it ever made any difference. “I ran into him outside Zonko’s today, and ribbed him about spying on the competition. ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ he said, with the biggest smirk-”
And she stopped, because something was wrong. Remus had gone so tense that he was hardly even breathing.
He was staring at her hand where it lay covering his.
Disappointment slammed hard, right in the gut. He had always tolerated her touch, even if he hadn’t seemed to notice it particularly, or try to touch her in return. What could have changed?
Maybe it was because he was grieving. Maybe he needed more space, now.
She sat up straighter and pulled her hand away, making to grab her mug and take a sip of butterbeer to cover her embarrassment.
But he looked up as soon as she moved her hand, and she saw surprise in his eyes. And-could it possibly be-disappointment?
It was her turn to freeze.
“Go on,” said Remus. His smile was off-centre, and his voice a little hoarse. “What about Fred, then?”
“Erm,” said Tonks. She had totally forgotten what she had been saying. “So-he told me he and George have signed a lease for a shop on Diagon Alley.”
“A joke shop?” His eyes held open delight, now, and a touch of something that might even be pride. “They must be doing well with their owl-order business.”
“To hear Minerva and Snape complain about all the new pranks floating around at Hogwarts, I would say so.” Tonks grinned, awash with relief that she hadn’t somehow put Remus off.
He grinned back, and took a swallow of butterbeer. Tonks noticed, again, how thin and worn his face was.
“I could do with a bit of a nosh,” she said, keeping her tone deliberately casual. “How about you?” Without waiting for Remus to answer-because he would only say that he wasn’t hungry-she slid out of the booth and fought her way through the crowded pub to the bar. She secured a basket of chips and a bottle of vinegar and started back across the room, smiling apologies at the people she knocked into as she passed.
~ * ~
Remus couldn’t look away.
He couldn’t stop watching Nymphadora’s slow, noisy, clumsy progress through the crowd, holding a basket of chips above her head-a basket of chips he couldn’t afford to buy for her.
He couldn’t stop watching even when she paused to exchange a few words with the gaggle of young men playing Dynamite Darts. Young men her own age, with good haircuts and shiny black dragonhide jackets, and jeans that were comfortably shabby on purpose, like hers, not threadbare from shameful necessity as his own trousers were. Young men who were handsome and healthy, who weren’t already starting to feel the exhaustion that the moon brought him every four weeks.
Remus was too old for Nymphadora, and too poor for anyone. All he had to contribute to a hypothetical relationship was the social ostracism that lycanthropy guaranteed. Even if it hadn’t been for the literal danger that he posed at the full moon, the best thing he could do for Nymphadora, if he truly cared for her-Merlin, but I care for her-was to keep that sentiment well and truly buried.
And so he would.
But he couldn’t look away.
Especially when she turned away from the darts game, and smiled, and it was for him.
~ * ~
Halfway back to their quiet corner table, Tonks nearly dropped the basket of chips. Remus was staring at her, and there was something in his eyes that she had never seen before.
Could it possibly mean-
Surely not.
Sirius had insisted that Remus was right on the brink of falling for her. But she wanted to believe that so badly, she was in great danger of seeing all kinds of things that weren’t actually there.
Tonks delivered the chips safely to their table and took her place in the booth again. “You like vinegar, don’t you?” She held the bottle poised above the basket, giving him a chance to stop her.
“Whatever you like,” he said, with a small smile. “I’m really not hungry.”
And pigs fly, thought Tonks. She applied vinegar liberally and pushed the basket closer to him. “Go on-you don’t have to be hungry to enjoy some chips, and I can’t eat all these myself.”
Remus hesitated, but then he picked up a chip and saluted her with it. “Thank you.”
His smile was normal. The tone of his voice was normal. His reluctance to accept a treat was completely normal. Tonks decided that she must have been imagining things, after all.
She took a deep swallow of butterbeer to wash away the stab of disappointment. Remus was one of the best friends she had ever had, and she was lucky she still had his friendship after all that had happened in the last week and a half. It was too much to be wishing for more.
They munched on the chips, companionably. Remus described the odd characters he’d seen in Knockturn Alley whilst keeping watch outside Borgin & Burkes for the Order recently, and Tonks listened, soothed by the familiar rhythm of his voice. She took a chip and dipped it into the puddle of vinegar at the bottom of the basket before popping it into her mouth. Her eyes drifted closed, and she smiled in pure bliss at the salty, tangy taste.
Remus fell abruptly silent.
Surprised, she looked up to find him staring at her again, with a very odd expression-a sort of hesitant fascination. She grinned at him. To her utter amazement, Remus, the master of composure, cleared his throat and fumbled with his mug before picking up the thread of his story.
Tonks held her breath, watching him flounder.
Maybe he wasn’t entirely the same as always.
~ * ~
Acting normal in Nymphadora’s company was turning out to be much more difficult than Remus had anticipated.
He’d thought he was good at hiding his feelings from others, or even shutting them off completely. Loneliness, grief, humiliation, anger, fear-those, he could generally hide quite well, and just get on with things.
But tonight, he couldn’t seem to keep his reactions under control. It must be because he had no experience at all in dealing with attraction.
With love.
Nymphadora touched him again, just a light brush of her hand against his as she talked. This was nothing new-she touched him all the time, on the hand or on the arm, and he’d always been secretly warmed by it. But he had thought he was simply finding comfort in her generous spirit, in the fact that she didn’t seem to mind touching a werewolf.
Tonight, her touch was tongues of flame and needles of ice against his skin. All he could think about was how much he wanted to reach out and touch her, how badly he wanted to feel the smooth warm skin of her wrist (or her cheek, or the nape of her neck) under his fingers.
He fought to keep his breathing even, his smiles steady and friendly. But her bright, warm laugh was enough to make him completely forget what he was saying, and he shivered helplessly every time her lips closed around one of those blasted chips.
There was a couple in the corner booth on the other side of the pub; a tall young man had his arm around a lovely young woman, who was snuggled up close. Remus couldn’t keep himself from imagining what it would feel like to slide round the table and sit next to Nymphadora, to pull her up against him, to feel her warmth all along his side-
He drew a shaky breath. This had to stop.
Nymphadora was staring at him again, undoubtedly wondering what was wrong with him tonight. He produced a laugh, and ate a chip, and said humorous things until she relaxed.
He had to learn to control his thoughts before he managed to ruin this friendship completely.
But surely, all he needed was a little more practice.
~ * ~
Tonks had meant to go home fairly early. She had to work a long shift the next day.
But Remus was reacting to her touch tonight. He was-she was certain of it now. And he kept watching her when he thought she wasn’t looking, drinking her in as though he were trying to memorise her face.
So she didn’t even think about leaving until she realised that Madam Rosmerta was actually putting chairs up on tables around them. They laughed, and apologised, and hurried outside.
“You’re staying in Hogsmeade now, aren’t you?” asked Remus, with a rasp in his voice that made Tonks shiver. “Let me walk you home.”
“I am, and thanks,” she said, trying to keep the elation out of her own voice. The last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm him, now that she was finally making progress.
But it seemed he didn’t want the evening to end, either.
She took his arm, exulting in the way his breath hitched when her fingers wrapped around his sleeve. They set off down the winding lanes in easy, comfortable silence. Crickets chirped, unfazed by the dementors’ chill, and the faint scent of early-summer flowers hung in the air.
All too soon, though, they had reached the Aurors’ cottage gate.
“Thanks for the company tonight. This was a nice idea.” Remus gave her that smile again, the one that made his face light up. The one he only used when he really meant it. “Good night, Tonks.”
She grinned back.
But then she saw that he was staring at her again.
She couldn’t breathe. His eyes were so warm, so kind-and yet there was something new there, a kind of wistful longing-
Did she dare?
It was indisputable that he had been acting differently tonight-and the longing in his eyes made her heart twist-
The night sounds had gone still around them. Her pulse was pounding in her ears.
Before she could give herself a chance to change her mind, she stepped closer, put her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him.
He went rigid.
Wrong guess, Tonks. Her heart plummeted. Brilliant.
She started to pull away.
But then Remus gave a shuddering sigh.
He caught hold of her and pulled her closer, one hand on her shoulder and one settling against the small of her back. His lips began to move against hers, tentatively at first, and then with a sweet, gentle hunger that almost broke her heart.
She slid one hand from his shoulder down his back. His fingers stroked along the nape of her neck and tangled in her hair. He tasted of butterbeer, and smelled of dusty parchment and clean white soap.
The kiss was everything Tonks had ached for, all these endless months.
And it lasted all of ten seconds before Remus abruptly broke the embrace and stumbled a few steps back.
“What-?” she whispered, reaching for him, but he only backed further away.
“Nymphadora,” he said hoarsely. “Stop.” In the light from the street-lamps, his face was white and drawn. “We can’t do this.”
He was deeply frightened, she realised-almost terrified. She had never seen him afraid before, not even that horrible night at the Ministry.
It made no sense. He couldn’t possibly be afraid of her.
“Why not?” She stepped toward him again. “Remus, I love you!”
He flinched as though she had slapped him. “Then you’ve simply got to stop.”
It was her turn to flinch. Those words, in that harsh distant tone-that hurt. But Tonks saw anguish in his eyes now, alongside the fear. She stared, bewildered. “I thought-tonight-I thought you had started to care for me, too.”
His sweet, searing kiss couldn’t possibly have meant anything else.
Remus looked away. His breathing was ragged and shallow, his hands clenched so tightly into fists that the tendons stood out on his arms.
“Don’t you?” Her voice cracked.
“It doesn’t matter.” He studied her purple trainers. The fists did not unclench. “You have to forget about this.”
“That’s not an answer,” she breathed, realising. She stepped closer again, crossing her arms, and glared. “Look at me and answer the question, Remus. Do you love me, at all?”
He stood, frozen. Silent.
The crickets started chirping again.
Tonks held her breath.
Finally, Remus dragged his gaze upward. She didn’t know what she had expected to see when he met her eyes, but it wasn’t this hopeless bleakness, this desolate resignation.
He held her gaze for a heartbeat or two. Then, very quietly: “Yes.”
The flood of relief his answer brought was so intense, she felt the warning prickle of imminent tears. She scrubbed hastily at her face and opened her mouth to speak.
He shook his head, cutting her off. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve known all my life that I must be alone.”
“No!” It was just as Sirius had said, then. She had to make Remus see how wrong this was. “That’s daft-it doesn’t have to be that way-”
“Oh, yes, it does.” His laugh was harsh. Bitter. “Being with me is much too dangerous-you, of all people, should understand the risks; you’re trained in fighting Dark Creatures-” He took a deep breath and looked away. “I could never put anyone in danger like that, especially not someone I...” He swallowed. “Someone I care about.”
Tonks had dreamed of kissing Remus for months. Sometimes she had pictured him falling happily into her arms. Other times, she had cried herself to sleep, imagining his kind, regretful voice telling her that she was a good friend, but he just couldn’t think of her that way.
Never in a million years had she expected him to tell her that he loved her and then walk away.
“Remus. Listen.” He wouldn’t look at her, but she pushed on. “I do know what the risks are, but doesn’t that mean I know how to protect myself?”
“It’s simply out of the question.” He shook his head, still staring at her feet. “Just forget all about this. About me. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You’ll find someone else to love-someone who isn’t too old for you, and too poor, and too dangerous.”
Tonks frowned fiercely up at him. “Do you think that what I feel is some kind of passing fancy?” She fought to find words that would make him see reason. “I-this isn’t-you can’t-”
He touched her cheek, very gently, with unsteady fingertips. “I’m sorry, Nymphadora.”
The pain in his eyes tore at her like a knife.
Then, before she could say another word, he turned away and Disapparated, leaving her alone in the darkness.
Except that she wasn’t, quite. Crickets still chirped. A laugh rang out from a lane or two away. The street-lamp spilled a puddle of light at her feet.
And now at least she knew for a fact that Remus loved her.
“This isn’t how it ends, Remus Lupin,” she said, finding steel in her voice. “We aren’t finished.”
~ fin ~
[ ← Chapter 11 | → Part II: Mirrors (revision coming soon) | ↑ Kaleidoscope series index ]
Author’s note: This chapter incorporates parts of two ficlets that were posted at the rt_challenge community on LiveJournal in January 2007 under the titles “Blindsided” and “Unattainable.” [August 2013: Small edits made to bring the story into compliance with the new information about Tonks's Patronus released at Pottermore.]
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