#but said Sirius went on a weekend trip to London | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheekytorah · 5 years ago

Note

Thank you for always submitting the most creative prompts! You always get my fluffy gears turning. 💛

This too me so long to respond to because I was trying to make something for you for christmas because you are one of my favourite followers, always liking and sharing always commenting and dropping me asks ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you for always finding the time to write my prompts (even though I leave you so many lol) and promising to write the rest. It means a lot!

So Happy Holidays/Christmas/New years etc etc 💋

In my effort to finish this for you I failed to find a Beta so I’m sorry it’s a bit rough.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sirius felt himself return to consciousness. The images of warm calloused hands, bright, happy camp-fires and sweat slicked bodies were immediately replaced with a sudden need to vomit and fear that his skull was moments from cracking in half, exploding from pain.

He stood up and dashed for a bush, expelled the contents of his stomach-albeit not much-and groaned in agony. He looked around at two of his best mates, in similar hell, and smiled slightly till he had to close his eyes to block out the excruciating sun. Misery does love company, after all.

Eyes closed, the warm darkness brought on a cascade of memories from the night before. Dancing around a fire in their pants, like a trio of idiots-thanks Prongs. Drinking vermouth to begin with-thanks Wormtail. Vanishing tents because how else would they be real men-yeah that one was Sirius, of course.

Then a memory of James voice encouraging him to-no he wouldn’t.

“Prongs, did you let me drunk call people last night?”

James moaned in response.

“No,” Sirius gasped. He felt panicked as memories of yelling into his phone some weird song that involved butchering Remus’ name assaulted his mind. “Did you tell me to call Moony last night?”

“I may have mentioned the merit in a drunken confession.”

Sirius stomach dropped out.

“I would like it on record that I was completely against it,” Peter interjected.

“Oh fuck,” Sirius groaned and laid down on the grass.

Why was it always fucking him?

James crawled on hands and knees and curled in a ball beside Sirius, flinching under his murderous glare.

“I’m sorry. Maybe we should turn our phones off before a night of drinking.”

“I’m never drinking again, look where it gets me. I think- fuck Prongs-I left him a voicemail where I waxed poetic about his hands! HIS FUCKING HANDS!”

“That I don’t remember,” James chuckled, but then winced when Sirius punched his shoulder.

“He probably hasn’t even heard it yet,” Peter said thoughtfully. “He did text me earlier to say his phone was going to die and he’d forgotten his charger. Wouldn’t have one till he got home tomorrow morning.”

Sirius looked up hopefully. Maybe they could, oh but it would never work, they’d have to get to Wales and none of them could apparate in their state. They’d also have to somehow manage to steal Remus’ phone without him seeing, get it back to London-

“We can do it,” James nodded, recognizing the look on Sirius’ face. “Just let me die here for a little bit and we’ll get to the car.”

They drove through to the afternoon, arriving at the Lupin’s cottage in a few short hours. Lyall answered the door but after a disgusted sniff, scowled at the boys and told them Hope and Remus had ventured out to a cousins in London. He quickly slammed the door shut in Sirius’ face and they were once again on the road.

“I swear to Merlin, James, if this ends badly,” Sirius warned.

“Look, if anything you can claim it was a prank gone wrong. Alcohol distorting the point of the prank, and I don’t know, making it more confusing.”

“Oh sure, that will go really well,” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Or, you could just tell him it was all true and then snog his face off,” James teased.

“Remus doesn’t feel like that about me,” Sirius gripped the steering wheel and glared at the road. “You think I would keep this secret for all these years if I wasn’t damn certain the truth would ruin our friendship?”

He cursed under his breath. He had made a move on Remus’ about 10 years ago, laying on their backs at the top of the astronomy tower in sixth year. He had kissed him, and Remus had pushed him away and told him not to confuse things. It was pretty clear then that Remus didn’t want him.

“I don’t get it,” James shook his head. “You could have any bloke you wanted, I see them throwing themselves at you. When was the last time you even went on a date?”

Sirius was about to object, that he went out with plenty of men, but he wasn’t sure they’d agree that one offs in the loo of a dirty pub once every few months really counted.

“Over a year ago,” Peter supplied.

“Not all of us can be with the person they are in love with, settle down and have a bloody family by the time they are twenty-one,” Sirius snarled. “And you,” he pointed at Peter through the rear view mirror. “You are not allowed to have an opinion on my relationship status when you don’t date at all.”

“I’m aro,” Peter shrugged.

“And I’m bloody serious, so both of you lay off me.”

Sirius muttered mockeries under his breath. He turned down a dead-end street as the sun began to disappear behind the trees.

~*~

“Merlin’s saggy balls!” Sirius booted the tire of James father’s car in frustration. “How do we even find him?”

They had knocked on the door and a couple cute young college kids answered the door. Not an extension of the Lupin family, and had no idea who Remus or Hope even were.

“How did Lyall give us the wrong address? Shouldn’t he know where his own family lives?” James asked, similarly discouraged.

”Lyall Lupin doesn't even like his own son, why would he care about a cousin?” Peter said absently.

”Plan B, Padfoot,” James said slowly. “Prank gone wrong. It’s believable.”

“Honestly, you should just tell him the truth,” Peter rolled his eyes. “He won’t stop being your friend, you know him better than that.”

Sirius dug his hands in his pockets and glared at the ground. Why did this have to happen. Why did he have to drink so much. Why did he have to confess his undying love to Remus?

“Well, I’m out of options, so just remember I want my casket in red oak, not that cheap shit. I know your parents are loaded so don’t hold out on me,” Sirius grinned at James but his smile quickly faded and he groaned.

Sirius kept glancing at his phone, no new calls, or texts. Obviously Remus hadn’t heard the voicemail—yet, because he wasn’t being bombarded with questions or apologies or—what he wanted most—returned affections. He knew that was an impossibility.

James took the drivers seat again and they set off on their trip back to London. Peter was snoring in the back and James was humming along with the radio. Harry and Lily would be sleeping when he had finally dropped them off and slipped into their cottage in Godric’s Hollow, so they had stopped for some take out and pulled up outside an old skate park.

“Why do you think Remus doesn’t like you back?”

“I tried to kiss him once, back when I first realized I was gay—like super gay—he pushed me away. Told me he didn’t want me to ruin things when I was finally earning back his trust.”

“Can you blame him? After what you did-”

“Of course not, but if he had felt something for me, he would have said something back then.”

James made a noncommittal noise and went back to his curry.

“Blimey, this stuff is garbage,” he complained and Sirius smirked.

“Nothing beats your mums,” Sirius chuckled.

James nods as they drive off towards Sirius’ flat. When they pull up Peter is awake and slides into the passenger seat. They both wave and Sirius slips into the building. When he’s in the safety of his bed he lets all his doubts cloud around him, attacking him with anxiety and gloom. Was he going to wake up and lose Remus forever. Had he already lost him and just didn't know it yet

~*~

Of course his dreams were affected by his uncertainty. Words of harsh rejection yelled at him in Remus’ pitch. It was as if he was drowning in ‘let’s just be friends’,‘I can’t even look at you’ and ‘you disgust me’. He was covered in a cold sweat and he felt sick. He was overreacting, he told himself, but the fear of losing one of his most important people terrified him.

It was half-past eight when he knocked quietly on Remus’ door.

“Oh hey Moons, can I use your phone?” Sirius pushed past and stood expectantly in his living room.

“Sure, something up with yours?”

“Oh err, yeah not working right.”

Remus hums in agreement and Sirius darts over to the phone charging on the wall. ‘1 new voicemail’ flashed on the screen. Sirius sighs with relief as he punches in the voicemail code and listens.

“Moony, no doubt Sirius is on his way over there right now. We went to great lengths this weekend to attempt to prevent you listening to Sirius’ voicemail from friday night, but in case he managed to delete it, I think you should know anyways. He’s mad about you. You both are a couple of idiots who need to wake up and smell the big gay love.” Siriuis could hear James snickering as Peter spoke and then the line went dead. He cursed under his breath, vowing to kill James. But then, if this was the only new voicemail. Oh fuck.

Sirius turned off the phone, squeezed the phone in his hands, and bracing himself turned around to face Remus. Remus who was standing now, leaning against the doorway to his bedroom with a raised brow and crossed arms. Remus who had a delicious little smirk playing at the corner of his gorgeous mouth. Remus who-

“Anything interesting?”

Siius didn’t know what to say. What could he even say? So he didn’t say anything he just stood there like a wild animal cornered, assessing his escape options. Remus pushed off of the wall and strode forward a few paces and came to a halt in front of Sirius, not five feet from him.

“You know,” Remus said thoughtfully. “I got this really interesting voicemail Saturday morning.”

Sirius felt the colour drain from his face.

“But you-”

“You didn’t think my mum would let me get away with not having a phone all weekend did you?” Remus interrupted with a smile, amusement painting his every feature. Then his smile faded into a look of uncertainty. “Look, if you want, we can forget the whole thing.”

“What do you-”

“You were drunk,” Remus interrupted again. “We all say things we don’t entirely mean when we’ve had far too much to drink, and you definitely sounded like you had too much to drink.”

“Well I-”

“And you didn’t really get my hopes up or anything, it’ll be fine. Our friendship is the most important thing to me. You, James, Peter, us-the Marauders I mean-That’s what matters and I wouldn't want to screw any of that up. Nothing else matters, I don’t want to make anything awkward either, the other stuff could just fade away.”

Sirius grinned, both his brows raised and watched as Remus babbled away, offering a ‘Moony?’ every so often, hoping to cut into his spoken monologue. And people told Sirius that he was the one who liked to hear himself talk.

“Granted it hasn’t in years. I mean, it’s not like weird or anything-fuck-I just mean-”

“Moony!” Sirius said loudly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he shook his head in exasperation. “Shut up.”

He stepped forward quickly, gripped Remus shoulders and pulled him against himself. Their noses were practically touching, Remus’ eyes locked with Sirius’.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me now,” Sirius said quietly, practically a whisper in the silent room, their lips a mere inch apart. When Remus didn’t reject him Sirius closed his eyes and brushed his lips gently against Remus’ in a chaste kiss. He pulled away and looked at Remus, searching his face for a reaction and grinned when Remus beamed back at him.

One of Remus’ arms snaked around Sirius’ waist and the other cupped the back of his neck, pulling him back into a kiss that was deeper, stronger, and felt like a promise. They tasted, explored and teased for what seemed like forever, and ended too soon. Remus tasted like fresh water in the desert, smelled amazing, felt like home. They were still standing there-sirius still in his leather jacket and his shoes on-when a loud crash interrupted their ministrations.

“All your clothes better be on, Pads,” James called as he banged his way into Remus’ flat. “I swear to Merlin!”

Remus chuckled as Sirius groaned and dropped his head to Remus’ shoulder, but his shoulders shook with his own laughter too. He pulled back and looked back into Remus’ eyes who simply winked at him.

“What if it’s me who stripped and pulled a naked man, Prongsie?”

“Well that would be quite unexpected and out of character for the great Mssr. Moony, and I would have to encourage it,” Sirius could practically hear him grinning. “Carry on, I’ll just wait here, totally not listening to you both at all.”

Sirius grabbed a pillow off of Remus’ bed, darted out of Remus’ room and threw it at James who was sprawled out on the couch already flicking through the tele.

“Perv,” Sirius laughed and tackled James, giving him a couple playful punches to the gut.

Remus’ laughed and pulled out some of the pizza James had brought--apparently it was already lunch time, they really had been snogging for sometime--and settled on the floor, all lanky limbs and curly hair. Sirius watched him fondly before falling back into their usual banter and good natured teasing. This was the best part of being in love with his best friend.

#wolfstar #sirius #remus #sirius x remus #drunk calls #drunken confessions

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aidanchaser · 5 years ago

Text

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero, @magic713m, @ccboomer, @somebodyswatson, and Aubs

Chapter Twelve Silver and Opals

As soon as the door to the cell closed behind her, Tonks slumped against the cold stone wall. She breathed out a silent prayer of gratitude that at least she did not have to deal with dementors on this trip to Azkaban. As horrifying as it was that the dementors had left and were loose around England, she was not sure she could have survived this visit otherwise.

“Alright?” Proudfoot asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tonks gave him a wan smile. “Alright. Except that the guy doesn’t know anything. Don’t know why Scrimgeour’s insisting we keep him.”

Tonks pushed herself off against the wall and followed Proudfoot down the stairs of Azkaban’s western tower. Her interrogation with Stan Shunpike had gone exactly as she’d expected. Stan had pleaded innocence, said he didn’t know anything, he’d been exaggerating, he’d been trying to impress people.

“I suppose even people who pretend to have associations with Death Eaters ought to be taken seriously. Prevents people from….” Proudfoot rubbed the side of his head and winced. Tonks didn’t think he noticed it anymore, but it had become a tick of his whenever he thought too hard about something, a remnant of his duel with Pyrites last spring. “Sorry. I guess I just mean we’ve got to take any threat seriously.”

“I don’t blame Scrimgeour and Robards for having him brought in,” Tonks said, and tightened the scarf around her neck as they reached the large doors leading out of Azkaban, “but I think he’s learned his lesson, don’t you? He’s not going to give us anything useful.”

The doors out of Azkaban stood nearly as tall as the castle wall itself. They were each a meter thick, crafted out of ironwood and reinforced with bands of steel that were then reinforced with enchantments that left the metal glowing an eerie silver. On either side of the doors were two security trolls who towered twelve-feet high, nearly as high as the door, and beneath them stood two burly wizards, arms folded over their chest. As Tonks and Proudfoot approached, one whipped out a Secrecy Sensor and the other a Probity Probe. Without further prompting, Tonks and Proudfoot raised their arms over their heads and waited until they were cleared. They’d done this a hundred times. It was standard practice before going into the office these days — so Tonks went in as little as possible.

When the guards seemed satisfied that Tonks and Proudfoot were exactly who they said they were, they ordered the trolls to open the doors.

Each troll grabbed the enormous handles attached to a wheel and chain and pulled. With a loud clanking and a low-pitched creaking, the doors to Azkaban opened, just enough for Tonks and Proudfoot to squeeze out, and then they slammed closed behind them.

The North Sea crashed around them, drenching Tonks’s hair and clothes. She pulled her cloak tighter and shivered, and reminded herself to be grateful that it was not her job to stand out here as a guard.

The two wizards who did have the unfortunate duty of protecting the gates outside of Azkaban handed them their wands, for no wands were allowed inside Azkaban. Finally, she and Proudfoot were able to Apparate back to the Ministry. It was not quiet, at least not as quiet as the late night hours usually were. A pair of witches waited at the golden gates for Security to let them in. Another wizard stood by someone in bright green healer’s robes, having a whispered discussion. Several Hit Wizards lined the Floo Network entrances, prepared to detain and interrogate anyone who appeared suspicious. They were not far from the new, gaping hole in the Atrium, while the Ministry figured out how they would replace the Fountain of Magical Brethren that had been destroyed in Voldemort and Dumbledore’s duel.

Exhaustion kept the two of them quiet as they headed through security and up to the Auror offices. Anne Scrimgeour was there, ready with their assignments for tomorrow. Just seeing the scroll in Anne’s hand made Tonks’ exhaustion level increase twofold. She hadn’t even finished her day, and already tomorrow’s task was looming in front of her.

She slumped into her chair and carefully flattened the scroll out over her desk. Part of her hoped it might be hunting down Fenrir Greyback, though she knew that Marcy had been put on that trail weeks ago. Instead, she discovered she was scheduled to be at Hogwarts for the weekend.

The Ministry had, of course, insisted on extra security for Hogwarts. They wanted round-the-clock Auror patrols of the corridors and grounds in addition to all the extra protections Dumbledore and the Ministry had already placed on the school. Dumbledore had, in turn, submitted a list of Aurors he deemed appropriate to patrol Hogwarts — meaning, Aurors who were also in the Order.

Shacklebolt was still working with the Muggle Prime Minister, and the Longbottoms were in charge of the recently added Dark Wizard Detection and Detainment Task Force, so it was mostly her, the Prewetts, and Moody. Moody was still technically retired, but he at least helped guard Hogwarts when he was needed. Tonks did not think there was any favour Dumbledore could ask of Moody that Moody would not give, and that was a hard level of respect to earn from Moody.

Padfoot leaned on her desk and craned his neck to get a look at her assignment. “Hogwarts? I got Knockturn Alley rounds this weekend with Savage. How did you even get on the Hogwarts list? You’re still the youngest of the Aurors — Diggory doesn’t count, and don’t tell me he does. He’s got three years of training to get through, just like we all did.”

Tonks tucked the new orders into her coat pocket. “You were still out for your injury when Dumbledore made his list. I’m sure that’s all it is. Did you write your report yet or are you just harassing me to procrastinate?”

When their reports were finally done, and they’d approved each other’s account of their interrogation of Stan Shunpike, they finally left the Ministry of Magic. Proudfoot, while not his usual cheery self, was his usual chatty self. He talked about his sister’s plans for a holiday in Florida in an effort to escape what was likely to be a harsh winter, the strange smell that had started to creep into his flat that he hadn’t had time to investigate fully, and a half-dozen other things on their wait in the lift and their walk out of the Ministry.

The night sky over London was dark, not a single star visible. Tonks was only able to find the moon, a vague, silvery light behind the cloud cover, because it was nearly full. Tomorrow night it would reach the peak of its cycle, and someone she loved very deeply would endure a lot of pain.

“I know a great twenty-four hour place,” Proudfoot said, pulling Tonks out of her staring contest with the hidden moon.

“What?”

“I thought you just said you were hungry.”

Perhaps she had murmured an agreement accidentally. And, as she thought about it, she actually was hungry.

Tonks checked her pocketwatch and groaned. “I can’t. I’ve got to be at Hogwarts first thing in the morning.”

“Hogwarts patrol is easy enough. Dumbledore’s got all the security in place, hasn’t he? You’ll wander around, get yourself an excellent meal, and be done with the day.”

Tonks did not think a Hogwarts patrol would be as simple as all that, but she agreed with him that it would be easier than today had been.

“Fine, but I need to let my mum know I’m alright. Hopefully she’ll believe me.” With a muttered incantation, Tonks summoned her Patronus and sent it off to deliver her hasty apology and promises she was alright.

It wasn’t until she saw Proudfoot staring at her, dumbfounded and scratching the side of his head, that she realized he was only familiar with her quick rabbit, not the lumbering silver wolf. An apology leapt to the tip of her tongue, but she held it back, unsure what she was to apologize for. Not telling him she’d fallen in love?

Proudfoot was the one to apologize. “Sorry. I thought — I dunno what I thought.” He continued running his hand through his thick brown curls and let out a long, slow breath. “A wolf, huh?” His patronus was a Kneazle, a far cry from the one she’d just revealed.

“Yeah — a wolf.”

“Used to be…?”

“A rabbit.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He frowned, eyes still on the space where her wolf had vanished. “It’s the old legend, isn’t it? Patronus changing to match someone you love?”

“I didn’t ask the wolf, but — well, I ‘spect so.”

“And I haven’t heard about them because…?”

“Because it’s complicated.”

“Well, my food offer still stands. Tell me all about him. Or her.”

Tonks, who knew how hard it could be to extend friendship to someone you wished would love you, appreciated his offer more than she could put into words.

Proudfoot led Tonks towards a caff around the bend of the Thames. It was a few miles to walk, but the cold, fresh air felt good after so many hours in Azkaban. It also made it easier to talk.

“Start with their name,” Proudfoot prodded.

Tonks thought that was the last place she wanted to start. It would be easier if Proudfoot didn’t know who she was talking about and didn’t make a number of assumptions based on Lupin’s previous run-ins with the Ministry.

“He’s a friend of my cousin. So I knew him growing up. Always thought he was sweet, y’know? And funny. I mean, I really looked up to my cousin — Mum always thought he was a bad influence, but you know my Mum.”

“In concept,” Proudfoot laughed. “Just promise me the cousin you’re talking about is Sirius Black and not Regulus Black? Or Draco Malfoy?”

Tonks had never been more grateful for Proudfoot’s sense of humor. It was why the two of them got on so well. “Of course I’m talking about Sirius.”

“And the friend isn’t James Potter, is it? Because I think I can point out some quick problems with that relationship.”

“I do not have a crush on James Potter! Stop — did you want to hear about him or not?”

“You didn’t give me his name, Tonks! I’m just making sure the reason you’re keeping him secret isn’t because he’s already married to a very powerful and terrifying witch who has it in for the Ministry.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. It was sudden, uncontrolled, and brief. She couldn’t remember if she’d laughed in the last month. She couldn’t remember if she’d laughed at all since Voldemort’s return was finally public. Since she’d had a real conversation with Remus. But it was funny to hear how the Ministry felt about Lily Potter.

“I’m not in love with Potter. Promise.”

“Alright, alright, carry on.”

Proudfoot led her through a garden along the bank of the Thames. On any other day, Tonks might have worried he was trying to make this walk romantic, but she found it so much easier to breathe, now that he knew she wasn’t interested in him. She wished she had tried to talk to him about it all sooner, but they’d danced around the line between friendly and flirty for so long, she hadn’t known how to bring it up. Perhaps an accidental discovery like this was the only way for them to move forward.

“So I always sort of liked him,” she said, “but it was just a silly crush, you know? I dated at school and everything, but, well, I dunno, after I finished at Hogwarts I saw him at a party and I just — it all hit me all over again. My heart got all jittery, and I didn’t want to leave, even when my mum and dad left. I just wanted to keep talking to him. But then there was Auror training, and I was so busy and exhausted all the time —”

“I remember Moody ran you hard.”

“Yes! It was miserable, but worth it… Anyway, this past year, we’ve spent a lot of time together and — I dunno, I thought he finally saw me as an adult, not as his friend’s kid cousin. I thought that maybe he liked me too.” Tonks felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she instead latched onto her anger at herself for being so upset. She shouldn’t be reacting this way. Unrequited love hurt, but it was nothing worth crying to a co-worker about.

“I’m sorry.” And Proudfoot sounded like he meant it. There was no relief in his voice that Tonks wasn’t actually taken. There was no hope that because her love was unrequited she might turn her feelings to him. He was just sympathetic.

“When I tried to talk to him about it, he said there was nothing to talk about. It hurt, but I knew I could be alright with it. Even if he did have feelings for me and just wanted to be stubborn and deny it, fine. If he wanted to date someone else, fine. If he was content with his own company, fine. I could make my peace with that. But he….” She sighed and ran a hand through her thin, mousy brown hair, wishing that she could turn it back to her favourite vibrant pink. “It’s just a lot more complicated.”

Proudfoot considered this. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, following the occasional Muggle automobile that passed them along the embankment. His hands were in his pockets, presumably one on his wand, and Tonks hastily shoved her wand hand into her pocket. She’d been using her hands to assist her talking, but she knew Moody would have criticized her for taking her hand off her wand for even a moment.

“What reasons has he given you for not wanting a relationship?” Proudfoot finally asked.

“He says I don’t deserve him because he’s old and… and sick. He thinks I ought to fall in love with some young attractive Auror instead of him — his words, not mine.”

Proudfoot’s face flushed and a grin spread across it. “So he knows me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. But yes, he’s seen you before. He knows we’ve worked together. And it just makes me angry that he thinks he can tell me who I should fall in love with!”

Proudfoot nodded. “Yeah, I see that. Has he admitted that he shares your feelings? It almost sounds like he’s making excuses to avoid hurting your feelings — and failing spectacularly, I might add.”

“I thought that for a bit, but then I talked it over with Sirius, who knows him best. Sirius said he does have feelings for me, that Sirius is sure of it. Sirius seems to think the problem is that Remus doesn’t want to deal with his own feelings and insecurities, so he’s running from them.”

“Oh. This is about Remus Lupin. I see.”

The tone of Proudfoot’s voice turned from as comforting as her mother’s homegrown herbal teas to as cold and icy as a dementor’s chill. Tonks felt her hurt and anger stunned into temporary submission as her brain tried to work out which part of Remus Lupin it was that made Proudfoot so angry. Was it that he finally had a name and a face for Tonks’ love? Was it the werewolf thing?

Tonks did as she did best: tried to brush it off with a joke. “What? Would you be less upset if I’d said it was Emmeline Vance?”

Proudfoot did not see the humor. “I just think what he is matters. You can’t have a serious relationship with someone like that.”

So it was the werewolf. “Glad to have your opinion on it,” she said coolly.

“I just mean that you ought to think about it practically. He certainly is. You can’t live with someone with that kind of condition — it’s dangerous! You know he never registered himself? And imagine what might happen to your children —”

“Merlin’s merchant, Proudfoot, where do you get off talking about me having kids?”

“I’m just looking at it in the long-term. That’s all.”

“And I was so glad to have a friend to talk to about it.” Tonks rolled her eyes, embarrassed by the gratitude she’d felt just moments ago. “You’re unbelievable. Sirius is in love with the man and he’s a better comfort about all of this than you are.”

Without checking for Muggles and without waiting for another poor, insensitive explanation from Proudfoot, Tonks Disapparated, leaving the man she had — until just a moment ago — considered her best friend standing alone on the roadside in London. She Apparated into her mother’s garden, with no care for the mint plant she trod over, and stomped into the house.

Despite the late hour, Andromeda Tonks was still up with a book in her lap, and looked relieved to see Tonks. Her relief turned into concern when she actually took in Tonks’ expression.

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing. It’s fine, Mum,” she grunted, and stomped up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door closed.

“Nymphadora!” her mother shrieked, with the same strength and indignation she’d used throughout Tonks’ teenage years.

As another set of footsteps stomped up the stairs behind Tonks, the house seemed to groan with weariness. It had endured hundreds of similar arguments as Tonks had passed through puberty and into adulthood; it was likely to endure a hundred more.

Tonks was barely out of her coat when her mother threw the door open.

“Nymphadora!”

“What, Mum?” She was so tired of every adult treating her like a child, and she wished she knew how to stop herself from responding as if she still were a child.

“You know better than to come barging into this house at ungodly hours making that kind of noise —”

“Because you haven’t just woken half of the neighborhood yourself —”

“Don’t interrupt me! I’ve been up half the night, worried sick about you, and you brush me off like I’m little more than a house-elf —”

“I’m sorry, Mum. I’m tired. It was a long day.” Tonks hung her coat in her wardrobe, simply because her mother was still standing in her doorway and she knew she’d get another scolding if she left it on the floor.

There was a heavier set of footsteps in the hallway, joined by a loud yawn, and her father came stumbling down the hall, dressed in his nightclothes. He joined her mother in the doorway. “Dromeda, Dora, must we do this now?”

“She’s the unreasonable one!” Tonks said, raising her voice more than she meant to, an old habit of an oft-repeated phrase growing up. “Shouting like it’s the end of the world at Merlin knows what hour of the night!”

“I’m the unreasonable one? I’m just asking for the bare minimum — the absolute least you can do is say hello when you come home. Some basic decency is all I ask for in this house.”

“I’ve said I’m sorry, Mum. What else do you want? I’ll remember to send my Patronus earlier next time.”

“You have no idea what it’s like, waiting up with worry while you’re only child is off fighting who-knows-what and who-knows-who and —”

“Yeah, and I ‘spect I never will. I was at Azkaban half the day, and I’ve got to be at Hogwarts in the morning, and I’d like to get just an hour of good sleep in, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Ah,” Ted Tonks said, and stifled another yawn. “There it is. Did you have another run-in with Lupin?”

“No! Dad — just go back to bed.” Her cheeks flushed, and had she been thirteen instead of twenty three, her hair would have burned bright red with embarrassment.

“Are you really still interested in him, Nymphadora?” asked Andromeda. “It’s been nearly six months since you’ve even spoken to him.”

Tonks rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mum, I’m aware. You say it like I can help it.”

“Oh, please. You are not the protagonist of some Russian novel who can stand around waiting for him to reform bad habits and realize he’s been in love with you all this time. You cannot mope about —”

“I’m not moping!”

“Then change your hair. Fix your nose. As much as I love seeing my face on my daughter for once, I miss seeing your father’s. You’ve let this man take a wonderful gift from you, and it’s growing ridiculous.”

“Dromeda,” Ted said, and put his arm around his wife, “don’t pretend you were any less romantic about love when you were her age. I recall several impassioned speeches about what you thought of your family’s philosophy, and how you didn’t care what it cost you, you would have me no matter what.”

Andromeda’s face grew red. “That was different! We had each other — and we had a plan —”

“It’s not the same, but it’s not that different,” Ted said. “Come on, let’s get to bed before any of us say something we’ll regret in the morning. Will you be home tomorrow night, Dora?”

Tonks, still furious with her mother shook her head. “No. I’m at Hogwarts this weekend. I expect I’ll be home on Monday.”

Andromeda’s face was shrewd. “Why not come home tomorrow night? London’s no closer to Hogwarts than we are.”

“Let it go, Dromeda,” Ted said. “She’s an adult, and if she wants to keep throwing herself at this, that’s her choice.”

Andromeda did not look like she was going to let it go. “This conversation isn’t over, Nymphadora.”

Tonks rolled her eyes. “Brilliant. Can’t wait until we pick it up again.” She considered never coming home again, but the last thing she needed was her mother pounding on the Potters’ or Weasleys’ doors, demanding to know where she was and how to get to the Order’s headquarters in London. As her bedroom door closed, and she was finally alone, she reminded herself that her parents were simply looking out for her. Her mother cared, as difficult as that could be to see. Tonks tried, as she tried every night in the middle of this war, to count the things she was grateful for, and having two living parents who loved her was at the top of the list.

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

At the bottom of Tonks’ list of things to be grateful for was the weather. Though she’d been glad to have the dementors out of Azkaban just yesterday, she was already wishing them back. Hogwarts was bitterly cold, and it wasn’t even November.

Tonks doubled her scarf around her face to shield herself from the biting cold atop the Astronomy Tower. She leaned over the edge of the parapets and watched the students file out, all successfully passing Filch’s Secrecy Sensor. She thought about how many times she’d tricked Filch during her time as a student, and wondered if his Secrecy Sensor was as reliable as he’d insisted.

Tonks watched until she saw a group of four wrapped in Gryffindor scarves — one with short, messy dark hair, another with long untidy red hair, someone with dusty blonde hair, and someone with long, thick, curly hair — set out from the castle to brave the icy cold wind that blew down the path to Hogsmeade. Tonks was, as her Auror assignment said, guarding Hogwarts in Dumbledore’s absence. But more than that, she was guarding Harry.

And she’d expected him to head out into Hogsmeade, which is why she was up here on the Astronomy Tower, watching to make sure he’d gone, though she’d been hoping he wouldn’t bother to brave the weather. With a disappointed sigh and a curse on courageous Gryffindors, Tonks cast a simple Disillusionment Charm on herself and mounted her Comet Two Sixty. She wasn’t used to having to resort to spells for Disguise, but she’d gained a lot of practice these last few months.

Her gift hadn’t vanished right away. It had been slow, like exhaustion creeping in as the day grew longer. At first, she’d thought it simply was exhaustion. Changing her appearance became like stretching an over-extended muscle. It hurt, and she could do it, but not for long. Then the things she did without a second thought seemed to take all of her concentration. Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her jaw — the things about her that mirrored her mother that she had spent her whole life disguising, first out of spite and then out of habit — all relaxed into their natural shape. Until one morning, she found she was unable to shrink her nose or soften her cheekbones. She could not grow her nails into claws or turn her hair from brown to pink.

She’d thought it was the war that had worn her out, but when she had seen Remus after his transformation last July, she had known exactly why she was so tired, so exhausted. The war was something she had trained for, and she’d been trained well for it by Mad-Eye Moody. Falling in love with someone who repeatedly tormented himself — not just on the full moon but on each night of his life — had never been something she’d prepared for.

Tonks landed her broom just outside the Three Broomsticks and tucked it away in a shed behind Rosmerta’s pub. She’d retrieve it later.

For now, Tonks walked the streets of Hogsmeade. She was familiar with its layout, having visited enough times as a student. It wasn’t particularly crowded, with how terrible the weather was. Still, she found it strange to watch the clusters of students hurry from shop to shop. It wasn’t too long ago that she had been one of them, and yet it felt like a lifetime ago. The only students she could possibly know were the seventh years, who had only been bitty firsties when she’d been in her final year. She didn’t think she’d recognize any names.

The students she did know — Harry, Hermione, Neville, and the Weasleys — were nowhere to be seen. Tonks tried to think of where Harry might go. She knew he’d been to the Hog’s Head before, but from what she understood it had been a special occasion. She wondered if he was continuing Dumbledore’s Army now that Umbridge had been deposed, if he’d decided it was still necessary with Snape in charge of Defense.

Tonks wandered the path down to the Hog’s Head, but it didn’t seem like any students were particularly interested in braving the long walk to the edge of town, away from the warm, inviting shops. When Tonks did open the door to the Hog’s Head, she was greeted by the smell of animal dung and an unwelcoming grunt from the barkeep. The place itself was empty.

“Wotcher, Aberforth,” she said as she approached the counter.

Aberforth half-growled. “Don’t have time for your funny business, Nymphadora.”

Tonks wished she felt anything like funny business. With the loss of Proudfoot, Aberforth was the last person left in her life she could joke around with. “I’ve outgrown all that,” she said with a shrug. “Just checkin’ to make sure you aren’t serving Firewhiskey to firsties.”

“Not unless they’re as wrinkled as shrivelfigs. Or if you’ve got another student that can make their face look as weathered as mine.”

“Just me, far’s I know. Any interesting shrivelfigs come through?”

“In this weather?” Aberforth stroked his beard. “‘Dung came in here, tried to sell me something. I gave him a firm reminder he was banned. Are you going to buy something or did you just come to annoy me?”

A drink sounded tempting. “Sorry, but I’m working. Maybe tonight.”

“Butterbeer for the road, then?”

Tonks could not resist something warm in this terrible weather. As grumpy as he was, Aberforth was an excellent salesman. Or maybe he was just trying to unload his dusty collection of butterbeers on unsuspecting Aurors. Tonks’ lips curled back in disgust as he handed her the glass bottle coated in a quarter inch of muck, as if he’d unearthed it from the floor.

“Cheers,” she said, and tucked the glass bottle into her coat. At least it was warm.

She left Aberforth, cheered by the interaction. She’d once made the mistake of impersonating Dumbledore in her third year in order to get herself a drink at the Hog’s Head. It had gone terribly, but how was she to know that the barkeep was the Headmaster’s estranged brother? Aberforth had promised not to tell the school what she’d done as long as she promised not to let everyone know who he was. It had been a fine arrangement, one Tonks had leaned on and abused to get the occasional free drink in her later years.

As Tonks headed back to the shops in the center of Hogsmeade, she wished she’d spent time practicing warming charms instead of Disillusionment Charms. The wind was picking up, and she was pretty sure there was a storm coming.

She caught sight of Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione exiting Zonko’s and hurrying across the street towards the Three Broomsticks. They didn’t seem to notice her, which she was grateful for, though disappointed they’d chosen the Three Broomsticks. She couldn’t very well go in and have Harry recognize her, but she did very much want to get warm.

She ducked into Gladrags. Though most of the window was plastered with Death Eater wanted posters, there was a space in the corner where she had a good view of the Three Broomsticks. Tonks settled into the corner and when the shop owner asked her to buy something or leave, she simply flashed her Auror badge. He ignored her after that.

Harry and his friends stayed in the Three Broomsticks just long enough to enjoy a nice, warm butterbeer before heading back into the cold. She waited until they’d passed by Gladrags before heading out into the cold herself. The butterbeer in her pocket wasn’t especially warm anymore, and she pulled her coat closer to stave off the bite of the windchill.

She squinted up at the castle, and wondered if she ought to take her broom back. The wind was picking up, and she didn’t have any desire for her Comet to get caught in a gale and have the both of them into the Whomping Willow. She also had no desire to walk into the wind. In the end, Tonks chose the lesser of two evils. She pulled her collar tight and trudged up the path towards the castle. She had barely crested the first hill and taken in the vision of the Black Lake, with white caps on its traditionally mirror-smooth waters, when a blood-curdling scream cut through the air.

Tonks bolted into a run. The glass bottle in her coat pocket swung like a pendulum as she hurried towards the sound, wand out, eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of distress. The scream continued, even as she ran, and as she mounted the ridge where she had last seen Harry, she saw a young girl, hovering six feet in the air just at the end of the bridge that crossed the Black Lake, screaming with all her might as the wind whipped around her. Tonks had barely taken two more steps when the girl collapsed to the ground in a heap. Five students clustered around her. Tonks saw the one she thought was Harry run towards Hagrid’s hut. That was good; Tonks was still far enough away that Harry might reach Hagrid first.

Tonks searched for more strength to put into her sprint, but it felt like no matter how hard she tried, she could not run fast enough. Then, as her feet left the well-worn path and hit the hard, stone bridge, she tripped and sprawled onto the ground. She heard the glass in her coat pocket shatter, and the left side of her chest grew wet and warm. She did not even stop to consider the sensation; she only cursed her clumsiness and picked herself back up.

When she finally reached the end of the bridge, she skidded to the young girl’s side, this time intentionally slamming her knees into the bridge. Hagrid and Harry were just steps away.

“Get back,” Hagrid shouted at the students as Tonks ran her wand over the girl on the ground.

The girl was still screaming and writhing in pain. Tonks hated these kinds of curses, the ones you could neither see nor defend yourself against. She was not very good at treating them, either. Snape was better. And Hagrid was faster.

“Get her to Madam Pomfrey,” she said, though Hagrid had knelt down to scoop her up as soon as Tonks pulled her wand away. “And get Snape!” she added as he ran off with the still-screaming girl in his arms.

“Is anyone else hurt?” Tonks looked at the five students — Harry, Ron, Neville, Hermione, and a girl she’d never met.

They all shook their heads.

“Did someone attack her? What happened?”

The girl Tonks did not know pointed at some brown wrappings on the ground. “It — it was when that package tore,” she sobbed.

The wrappings were nearly soaked through, and as the wind whipped the loose edges around, Tonks saw something glittering underneath.

Ron knelt down and reached for the package.

“Don’t —” A jinx shot from the end of Tonks’ wand and knocked Ron backwards. She hadn’t meant to use the Knockback Jinx, but she’d been so determined to keep Ron away from whatever was in that package, she’d reacted without thinking.

Harry knelt next and, before she could even open her mouth, said, “I’m not going to touch it!” Instead he reached for the wrapping, and pulled it back to reveal a stunning opal necklace, glittering with iridescent greens and blues and whites.

“I’ve seen that before,” Hermione gasped. “Or one just like it. It was on display in Borgin and Burkes this summer. The label said it was cursed. Katie must’ve touched it.”

“Where’d your friend get this necklace?” Tonks looked at the group of students. They all looked at the girl.

“That’s why we were arguing.” The girl started to shake, and Hermione put an arm around her. “She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a surprise for someone at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it…. Oh! Oh no — she must have been Imperiused and I didn’t realize!”

“She didn’t say who’d given it to her, Leanne?” Hermione asked.

“No —” Leanne hiccuped on another sob. “She wouldn’t tell me. I said she — I said she was being stupid and not to take it up to the school, but she wouldn’t listen, and then I tried to grab it from her and —” Leanne let out another heaving sob and buried her face into her hands.

Tonks appreciated how calm Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Harry were as Hermione patted Leanne’s shoulder, and how carefully Harry and Neville examined the necklace. They had what it took to be Aurors, or maybe they’d just been through enough to make them that way.

Tonks took off her wet cloak and tossed it to Ron. The warm butterbeer had quickly grown cold, and Tonks thought she’d be better off with no cloak than a cold one. “Wrap it in this. Do not touch it — do you understand?”

Ron nodded solemnly and used her cloak to scoop up the necklace. “Why is it sticky?”

“Hippogriff piss,” Tonks said, and didn’t feel any urge to even smile at her own humor. “I need you to run on ahead and get that to Snape. It’ll help him treat Katie.”

Ron, though he looked pale, did not ask questions. He did as Tonks said and hurried on ahead.

“Come on,” Tonks said to the rest of them. “Let’s get out of this wind and get somewhere warm.”

Hermione kept her arm around Leanne’s shoulder as they walked up to the castle. Harry fell into step beside Tonks.

“Do you think Katie will be alright?” Harry asked as they trudged into the wind.

“I don’t know,” Tonks answered honestly. “You lot were in the Three Broomsticks just now, weren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me everyone who was in the Three Broomsticks.”

Harry frowned. “I dunno — Ron, Neville, Hermione, and me. A Slytherin from our class. A couple of warlocks… Katie and Leanne…. I dunno who else. It was kind of full with the weather so bad.”

“I thought Mad-Eye would’ve taught you better.”

“What do you mean?”

Had Tonks been her usual self, she would have scrunched up her face into her wizened mentor’s shape. As it was, she simply mimicked his voice. “Constant vigilance!”

Harry looked appropriately reprimanded. “I didn’t think about it in Hogsmeade. It’s so close to Hogwarts, I thought it was — I don’t know, safe?”

“Doesn’t matter where you are. How many times have you been attacked in places you’ve felt safe?”

Harry didn’t answer, and Tonks didn’t need him to. She could tell from his face it was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.

“I think it was Draco Malfoy,” he said suddenly.

Tonks raised an eyebrow at him. “You sound certain.”

“He saw the necklace in Borgin and Burkes this summer,” Harry said. “Remember I told you we tailed him?”

“You didn’t tell me he purchased something. You told me he bullied Borgin into repairing something for him.”

“Right but — he could’ve purchased it. Or he could’ve gone back and purchased it.”

“Did you see Malfoy in the Three Broomsticks?”

“No, but there were a lot of people there.”

“And you think a lot of people would not have noticed a young man in a Hogwarts uniform slip into the girls’ bathroom?”

Harry considered this. “Leanne didn’t say Katie got it in the bathroom, just on her way back from the bathroom.”

“Alright, that’s a fair point, but I’ve got one more question.”

“Okay.”

“Katie — she looked like she’s a sixth or seventh year?”

“Seventh.”

“She a good duelist?”

“Yeah. She was in the D.A. She’s on the Quidditch team, too, ever since she was in second year. Good reflexes.”

“You think if Malfoy so much as approached her in the girls’ bathroom or anywhere in the Three Broomsticks with his wand out she wouldn’t Stun him or even shout?”

Harry didn’t answer, as they climbed the steps into Hogwarts. Filch growled at them and waved his Secrecy Sensor, but McGonagall came running down the stairs and waved him away.

“Let them in, Filch,” she said. “My office, all of you.”

Tonks could not help but feel like a student again as she trooped into McGonagall’s office. Ron was already there, with Tonks’ wet and sticky coat draped over the back of a chair. The necklace was nowhere to be seen.

“Well!” McGonagall said, and shut her office door firmly behind her. “Hagrid says you are the ones who saw what happened. Mr Weasley, I hope you’ve caught your breath enough to tell us what’s happened.”

“Leanne’s the one who saw it all,” Ron said. He still sounded short of breath, and Tonks was proud of him for putting in so much effort.

Leanne, between sobs and hiccups, was able to tell McGonagall what she had told Tonks: Katie had entered the bathroom at the Three Broomsticks and come out with a strange parcel and acting very odd, and they’d argue over delivering the strange package, until they’d torn the package in their argument. At this point, Leanne became inconsolable, and neither McGonagall’s stern demands nor Hermione’s gentle coaxing could convince her to finish her story.

“Go up to the hospital wing, then, Leanne,” said McGonagall in a kinder voice than Tonks had ever heard from her, “and have Madam Pomfrey give you something for shock.”

Leanne rubbed her eyes and obediently left the office.

“What happened when Katie touched the necklace?” McGonagall asked. She was looking to Tonks for answers, but Tonks did not have any. She looked at Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Neville.

It was Harry who hurried to answer. “She rose up in the air,” he said, “and then began to scream, and collapsed. Professor, can I see Professor Dumbledore please?”

McGonagall frowned, clearly uninterested in this change in topic. “The headmaster is away until Monday, Potter.”

“Away?”

“Yes, Potter, away. But I assure you, we are in quite capable hands regardless. Now, is there anything else you have to say about today’s incident? I believe I am most needed in the hospital wing.”

“That’s about it, Professor,” said Tonks. “I’ll see these four back to their common room.”

“Thank you,” McGonagall hurried out of the office without another word. Tonks could see Harry burning with frustration, but she ignored it, instead looking at the Quidditch Cup sitting on a shelf in McGonagall’s office. She felt bitter at seeing it here, especially after so many years of Charlie Weasley crushing her team in Quidditch.

“Who do you reckon Katie was supposed to give the necklace to?” Ron asked as he handed Tonks her cloak.

Tonks shook her head. “I doubt we’ll know unless Katie can tell us.”

“Whoever it was has had a narrow escape,” said Hermione. “No one could have opened that package without touching the necklace.”

Tonks led the four Gryffindors out of McGonagall’s office and towards the stairs to Gryffindor tower.

“It could’ve been meant for loads of people,” said Harry. “Dumbledore — the Death Eaters would love to get rid of him. Or Slughorn — Dumbledore reckons Voldemort really wanted him and they can’t be pleased that he’s sided with Dumbledore. Or —”

“Or you,” Neville whispered.

Tonks raised an eyebrow, prepared to comfort Harry, but Harry only shrugged.

“Couldn’t have been, or Katie would’ve just turned around in the lane and given it to me, wouldn’t she? I was behind her all the way out of the Three Broomsticks. It would have made much more sense to deliver the parcel outside Hogwarts, what with Filch searching everyone who goes in and out. I wonder why Malfoy told her to take it into the castle?”

Tonks sighed. “Harry, the Malfoys have been searched as thoroughly as anyone has ever been searched. And I find it far more likely that a woman cursed Katie with the Imperius Curse and had her deliver the parcel.”

“He could’ve asked Pansy Parkinson,” Harry said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Pansy couldn’t curse a toad to sing.”

“Whoever it was,” Ron said as they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, “wasn’t very slick, were they? The necklace didn’t even make it into the castle. Not what you’d call foolproof.”

“You’re right,” Hermione agreed. “It wasn’t very well thought out at all.”

Tonks examined each of the brave Gryffindors and considered her own Auror training. They all had the temperament for it, if nothing else. And they were asking all the right questions, the ones she’d been asking herself since she’d seen what had happened.

“What was it about the plan that went so wrong?” she asked them, curious to hear what they’d noticed.

“Even if Leanne hadn’t thought it strange, Filch would’ve caught the necklace with his Secrecy Sensor when they walked in,” said Neville.

“And no one’s really traveling alone these days,” said Hermione. “Someone like Leanne being suspicious was practically guaranteed.”

“Anyone could have opened the package,” said Ron. “Or like what happened — it opened accidentally and Katie got cursed.”

“The possibility for collateral damage was high, and the chance of success slim,” Tonks agreed. “So what does that tell us about the culprit?”

“Someone not very bright,” said Harry, “like Malfoy.”

Three pairs of eyes rolled in unison. Tonks sighed and shook her head.

“Not necessarily. What happened to Katie requires a certain level of skill. And brilliant people can make foolish mistakes. But it does tell us she’s definitely inexperienced. You four thought quickly today and reacted coolly in a stressful situation. That’s something to be proud of. Stay vigilant, alright?”

They each nodded and Hermione said, “Dilligrout.” The Fat Lady’s portrait swung open. Ron helped Hermione inside, then followed. Neville scrambled over the large step into the common room. Harry, though, hesitated.

Tonks thought he was going to give another argument for why Draco Malfoy had been the one to curse Katie, but instead he said, “How long are you staying at Hogwarts for?”

“As long as I can be useful. Mad-Eye should be here ‘round supper time. He might be a better help for Katie, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Are you… Are you going to see my parents at all tomorrow?”

Tonks wished she had control over her Metamorphmagus ability if only so she could hide the blush creeping up her neck. “I’m supposed to spend the night with your mother, actually. I hope she won’t worry too much if I’m late.”

“Oh — does that mean… does that mean he’s coming home tonight?”

“As far as I know, he’s planning to, yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

“I’m glad someone can keep Mum company, too.”

“I’m happy to do it. Your Mum’s cool. You’re lucky, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Go on, before your friends worry that you’re having a tryst with a mature, older woman.”

Harry pantomimed searching high and low, and even peered around the Fat Lady’s portrait. “Huh. I don’t see one around.”

Tonks stuck her tongue out at him and playfully shoved him into the short tunnel into the Gryffindor common room.

—————————— ✶✶✶ ——————————

That night, when Mad-Eye relieved Tonks of her duty, she trudged back down the path to Hogsmeade. The wind had died down, but it was still bitterly cold, and she didn’t have a cloak. She had her butterbeer soaked cloak draped over one arm, and the only thing really protecting her from the cold was the knit scarf around her neck.

Though Tonks would have loved to stop in the Three Broomsticks for a proper warm butterbeer, to make up for the broken, dirty one, but she was expected at the Potters’ Hogsmeade cottage, and she didn’t dare delay any more than she already had filling Moody in on the events at Hogwarts.

Remus Lupin had not come home for the full moon at the end of August, but he had returned for September, of his own accord. Lily had said he was reluctant and sullen about it, but regardless, he’d finally come home.

Unfortunately, all of that bitterness and irritation that Remus brought home with him carried over into the full moon. It wasn’t just that he’d surprised Lily by showing up on their fireplace hearth an hour before sunset, asking if it was alright to stay the night. It wasn’t just that Lily had needed to put together a half-dozen potions on little notice. Whatever it was that Remus carried with him into the full moon had nearly ripped both him and James to shreds, and Lily, with the help of the Potters’ house-elves, had barely managed to keep the two of them alive.

So this month, she’d asked Tonks to help.

When Tonks reached the cottage, she knocked, and was surprised when one of the Potter house-elves answered. Tonks hadn’t really been properly introduced to them, but she thought this one was called Picksie.

“Miss Tonks!” the house-elf squeaked. “A moment —” The small elf squeezed her large, purple eyes closed and snapped her fingers. There was a blue spark, and Tonks felt a shock run from her head to her toes. She jumped back, startled, and fumbled for her wand.

The elf, however, opened her eyes and smiled. “It is you! Come in, come in.” She stepped aside and motioned for Tonks to enter. “Picksie has been practicing, detecting Polyjuices and hidden curses! But you is you, so come in, come in!”

Tonks could not help but smile as she walked in. Picksie’s pride in her success was contagious. “Impressive. House-elves might make better guards than trolls if they practice as hard as you.”

Tonks was not certain whether house-elves could blush — the only one she’d had any real interaction with had been Kreacher — but she thought that Picksie was glowing with pride.

“Thank you, Miss Tonks! You is very kind. Mistress Potter is in the kitchen, finishing a potion.”

Tonks let Picksie show her the way. She’d never actually been to the Potters’ cottage. She knew James had purchased it to be closer to Lily during her brief stint as a Hogwarts professor, but she wasn’t sure why they’d held onto it all these years. It certainly came in handy on a night like tonight, when their house was occupied by a bloodthirsty werewolf, and the Order’s headquarters were little more than a way-station for overworked Aurors these days. The life that had returned to Grimmauld Place when the Order had needed a London base had all but vanished after the Ministry was no longer the primary battle ground. Even Regulus wasn’t around as much. Tonks had heard he was on a special mission for Dumbledore, separate from the Order’s task, but she couldn’t recall who had said it to her.

Tonks didn’t find this cottage much more homely than Grimmauld Place as she looked around. The fireplace was empty, and the furniture was covered. It was clear that the Potters didn’t spend much time here.

The kitchen Picksie led her to was smaller than Styncon Garden’s, which said a lot, considering that their kitchen there was not especially large, not compared with homes like Grimmauld Place or the Burrow. There was enough room for a woodstove and a hand-pump sink. It seemed that James hadn’t been looking for grandeur or comfort when he’d bought the house. He’d only been looking for somewhere close to Lily.

Lily stood over the wood fire, waving her wand over a cauldron. Picksie waited in the doorway until Lily had finished her spell and used her wand to siphon the potion into a bottle before announcing Tonks.

“Mistress Potter — Miss Tonks is arrived. Picksie is doing the checking of her myself. Miss Tonks is who Miss Tonks says.”

Lily smiled. “Thank you, Picksie. I don’t know what I’d do without your help. Tonks can help me with the last of the Blood-Replenishing Potions. Why don’t you check on Mellie and get some rest?”

Picksie bowed and disappeared with a pop.

“Is Mellie alright?” Tonks asked.

“She’s old, and more and more tired these days…. But we all are, so maybe it’s nothing.” Lily corked the bottle of thick red liquid and set it into a box. “One more should do the trick. I wish I could brew these in advance, but they only last about forty-two hours, and I never know how much I’ll need.”

“Depends on his mood, doesn’t it? How was he tonight?”

“Better with Sirius gone, I think.” Lily rubbed her eyes and leaned against the sink. “You haven’t heard from Sirius or Emmeline, have you?”

“I read his report about two weeks ago. It seemed like they had a lead.”

“I’m just worried that she threw herself back into the field too soon after her recovery… and for Sirius to take a mission that would take him so far from us for so long….”

Tonks worried, too. But she had a feeling Sirius had run to give Remus less excuses. The last thing he’d said to her in July had been, “Whatever I’ve been doing to help him hasn’t worked in all the years I’ve known him. Maybe I’ve mucked up too many times to make it right. I don’t know….”

Lily stared at the fire as it slowly burned itself out. The dim, flickering light danced in her green eyes, and it made it hard for Tonks to tell if she was near tears or not. “If Sirius isn’t back next month, he’ll miss Harry’s Quidditch game.”

“No one ever said any of this would be easy,” said Tonks.

“No, but I don’t understand why Remus has to make it harder on everyone.” Lily shook her head. “Sorry — I know that isn’t fair to say. I just….”

Tonks knew what she meant, though. They couldn’t blame Remus for going through something difficult, any more than Tonks could blame herself for not being able to use her Metamorphmagus ability. They each had their own boggarts to confront, and all of it happening in the middle of a war only made things more difficult on everyone.

So Tonks didn’t press Lily to explain. She simply began to help clean up the cauldron Lily had abandoned on the fire. She wasn’t the best at cleaning, and she fumbled each time Lily handed her a glass vial, but Tonks did her best to help Lily prepare another bottle of Blood-Replenishing Potion. Lily didn’t seem interested in talking while they worked, and that was okay. Tonks focused herself on the task at hand, making sure not to break anything or accidentally drop anything into the potion. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d passed Potions at N.E.W.T. level with her consistent clumsiness, other than through sheer determination to become an Auror.

When the potion was safely sealed and labeled, Tonks put it in the box with the others. There was one potion glowing light blue — a fresh batch of Burning Bitterroot Balm, she guessed — and the rest were red potions with dates and times scrawled on them, going back to noon yesterday.

Lily made them a quick cup of tea, using her wand to heat the water instantly. Tonks took a moment to be in awe of Lily, who seemed a master of the house-keeping charms that had eluded Tonks, Potions, which had always been a challenge, and dueling, which was the only thing Tonks had ever shown a talent for. Tonks had spent her life mastering one thing and working hard to be passable at others; Lily seemed to have it all under control. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told Harry his mum was cool.

“Thanks again for helping me.” Lily led Tonks back into the sitting room and pulled a cover off of the sofa so that they could sit. ��It’s nice not to sit up alone, praying everyone’s alright.”

Tonks carried the warm mugs, and was careful not to spill as she handed one to Lily. “I think you’re doing me a favour just as much. It’s nice to know that I can do a little something for him, even if it isn’t a lot, even if he won’t talk to me.”

Lily used her wand to light the fireplace, then curled herself up into the corner of the sofa, hands wrapped tightly around her mug. “I can’t understand it, really. But I’ve never been good at understanding Remus.”

“I thought you two were close.”

“Close, yes — we tell each other almost everything. We spent a lot of time together as prefects. I almost made him my chief bridesmaid,” she laughed, “but I don’t understand him. I was rather harsh with him last July.” Lily blew on her tea and took a sip. Her gaze was not on Tonks as she spoke; she seemed to be staring at something much farther away.

“I didn’t know about his condition until our seventh year. I’d always assumed he understood what I was going through because he had a Muggle mother. I’d never dreamed it was because he knew better than I did what it was to be persecuted by wizards. But I always fought to prove myself. I was loud, angry, and maybe not willing to hex someone who mocked me, but I’d certainly outshine them in class. Remus was always quiet, secretive, and avoided people as much as he could. If he hadn’t been roommates with Sirius and James, or at least with people like them, I don’t know that he would’ve ever made friends.”

“It’s a bit different, though, isn’t it?” said Tonks. She flinched as she took a sip of tea and found it still too hot. “I just mean — being Muggle-born. You had ten years at least of a normal life.”

“I suppose. Though I always knew I was a witch. I had… a friend who was a wizard, who knew all about Hogwarts. But he never — well, while we were children — he never did treat me differently because I was Muggle-born. I suppose Remus never knew anything like that, not until he met James and Sirius. But we’ve all been friends for twenty-five years now. And I know what he goes through isn’t easy, but I’m so tired of him tearing himself up over it. I don’t know how to make him understand that we love him, not despite what he is but including what he is.” Lily closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the sofa.

Tonks ran her thumb along the edge of her mug. She took a moment to let the steam warm her face before blowing on her tea and taking a sip. It didn’t hurt so badly as her first sip, but maybe she’d just burned the feeling out of her tongue. “Sirius says he’s just using the werewolf bit as an excuse so he doesn’t have to deal with his feelings.”

Lily hummed in agreement. “I’m sure that’s part of it. James described you as a catalyst, and I think that’s the best way to put it.”

“I don’t want to be anything — I just want to be me. And part of being me is loving him. But that part of me is making it harder to be myself, to be the person I know that I am.” Tonks bit down on her lip, realizing her words were heading dangerously close to thoughts she had been trying so desperately to avoid.

“Love changes us.” Lily’s smile was fond and distant. “You should’ve seen the way it changed James. I changed, too. James made me learn patience and humility, two things I’d never bothered with before. The love that makes you better is the one you want to keep around.”

Tonks was not sure she had changed for the better, at least not in these last six months. She liked spending time with Remus. She thought he made her more empathetic, more considerate, and more careful. Lately, though, she wasn’t happy with the ways she’d changed. She didn’t joke the way she used to, and she knew the loss of her Metamorphmagus abilities was an unfortunate effect. She supposed those losses weren’t because of her relationship with Remus, but because of how he had shut her out.

“What do you do when parts of him are good for you and other parts aren’t?”

Lily was quiet. Tonks wondered if she’d fallen asleep, and her question had gone unheard. She thought if she closed her eyes for even a moment, she might slip away too.

But then Lily said, “I think that’s why relationships are hard work.”

Tonks added emotional wisdom to the list of things Lily excelled at.

Tonks watched the fire as it slowly burnt out, intent on keeping a vigil all night, but at some point, Lily was shaking her shoulder gently. Tonks looked out of the window to find gray daylight creeping in. She stretched and groaned, stiff and sore from sitting on the sofa for so long. It was a familiar feeling after a life full of naps in odd places.

“Time to go already?”

“Just about.” Lily’s eyes were rimmed red and puffy. Her long red hair was a tangled mess. Tonks decided that she had no interest in looking at her own reflection.

They gathered up the potions and the house-elves. Tonks belatedly remembered her broom was still tucked away in Madam Rosmerta’s shed, but there would not be time to grab it. There was no telling what state Remus and James would be in. She just had to hope it would go unnoticed a bit longer.

Picksie, as a house-elf, had the ability to Apparate into Styncon Garden, and Tonks found it incredibly convenient, having made several uncomfortable Floo trips herself. She disliked traveling by Floo. She was always nervous that she would step into the wrong sitting room. Apparating was far more efficient.

Picksie’s ability also allowed her to Apparate around the grounds of Styncon Garden, which meant they did not have to waste time looking for James and Remus. Picksie was able to check the grounds quickly and return them to the kitchen for Tonks and Lily to treat immediately. With a pop, the house-elf was gone, and with another, she had returned to the kitchen with two very beat up and bloodied men.

As they had discussed beforehand, Lily prioritized the bite marks in James, and Tonks was to heal as many of Remus’s injuries as she could.

What caught her attention first were several punctures in his chest and abdomen that dripped blood. What worried her more than the blood was the way Remus gasped for air. Something, whatever it was that had gored him — Tonks couldn’t imagine what — had probably punctured a lung. Or if it hadn’t, any internal bleeding could be pressing on his lungs and even keeping his heart from beating properly. He may have had both a punctured lung and internal bleeding, judging by the pair of dark purple, heart-shaped bruises on Remus’s chest. Quickly, Tonks ran her wand over Remus’s abdomen, focused first on repairing the deepest of his wounds. Blue light pulsed at the tip of her wand, and she concentrated on that combination of Charms and Transfiguration that made up the root of healing magic. Her father’s voice filled her mind, reminding her of the basics of healing injuries. “The body wants to be fixed, and knows what to do; you’re just helping it along,” he had always said.

She did not have a lot of experience with internal wounds, and found it challenging to work on what she could not see, but she trusted in her own skill, and when his breathing was no longer strangled gasps, she dragged her wand over each of his external wounds, drawing blood away from cavities and knitting together open veins.

Once the immediate danger was settled, and she was certain Remus’s heart and lungs were working appropriately, she took an assessment of everything else. He seemed to have several misaligned joints, which Tonks thought odd injuries, but they were easy enough to set straight. There were also several superficial cuts and scrapes that she left alone, and three breaks in one of his legs that she set, but did not heal for fear of overtaxing his body. When she was confident she had done all that she could, she Levitated his body into the sitting room.

The last time Tonks had been to Styncon Garden, the sitting room had served as a make-shift hospital room for Remus and Sirius, and it looked as if it had not changed. Lily had thrown down towels and padding over both the floor and the furniture, then covered the entire room in white sheets.

Tonks gently set Remus down on the sofa and pressed the back of her hand to his cheek. He was cold and clammy. She hurried back into the kitchen, careful to step around Picksie and Lily, who were still at work on James — Tonks glimpsed a deep bite mark in his stomach as Picksie lifted a cloth so Lily could drip dittany over the wound — and dug a Blood-Replenishing Potion out from the box. She hurried back to Remus’s side and woke him just enough to get him to drink. Some of the potion spilled as she uncorked the bottle, staining the white sheets with bright red blooms, but Tonks had not expected to be perfect at this. She hadn’t been doing this for years the way Lily had.

Once Remus had finished the potion, with minimal loss down his chin, Tonks helped him lay back down. His eyes closed and he immediately slipped back into sleep. Not only was the transformation itself taxing, and running around at night exhausting, Tonks had needed to draw on his body’s own stores of energy for the healing. It was likely that he would be asleep for a while.

Tonks turned to help Lily, only to find Picksie lifting James with her own wandless magic and setting him down on a set of cushions not far from the sofa Remus rested on. Lily was two steps behind her, uncorking a Blood-Replenishing Potion. “Tonks, please get me another one,” she said, and Tonks rushed to follow instructions.

By the time Tonks returned with another potion, Lily had already gotten James to drink the first one without spilling a drop. Tonks made sure to uncork the second one before handing it to Lily. She thought she saw tear streaks on Lily’s face, which startled her, but she forgot as James coughed and spluttered.

“Hold him still, please —”

Tonks rushed forward and helped hold James’s shoulders still. She realized she was staring at the scarred half of his face and quickly focused on Lily instead.

“No,” he mumbled, half-awake. “I can’t do another —”

“James, please, you lost so much blood.”

It took a bit more coaxing, but Lily was able to convince James to finish the second bottle. Tonks helped him lay back down and pulled a blanket over him. Lily recorked the bottle and pushed herself back to her feet, but James grabbed her hand.

“Lily —”

She knelt back down and squeezed his hand.

“Lily, I can’t do another full moon. Not with him like this. Not without Sirius.”

“I know,” she said. She brushed some of his dark, messy hair out of his face and tears fell from her cheeks onto his. “We’ll talk to them both. We’ll make it work.”

Tonks looked away, embarrassed to be intruding on this private moment. She did not know what had happened during September’s full moon, but she knew that in July, Sirius had been the one to take the brunt of Remus’s anger, and James had largely been unscathed. She wondered if something had changed between them, or if James had simply become a surrogate for Remus’s anger.

Her eyes caught on something familiar on the mantelpiece. There, tucked among photographs of James and Lily, Remus and Sirius, and Harry, was a wand. Curiosity seized practicality and Tonks crossed the room to examine it more closely. She estimated it was just over ten inches, with a darkly polished handle, and a fine twist to the wood before it tapered off into the end of the wand.

“It’s Remus’s,” Lily said softly.

Tonks turned. Lily was still seated at James’s side, holding his hand, but James appeared to be asleep. Lily wiped her cheeks with the heel of her free hand.

“Remus left it here last May.”

“I thought he broke his wand dueling Bellatrix.”

“Yes, his first wand. He got a new one when Barty Crouch stole his wand a few years ago, the one you’re holding now. He used it for about a year, until Regulus took his old wand back when he killed Barty. It was that one he was using to duel Bellatrix. He never did care for the replacement wand, and hasn’t picked it up since his duel. Says he doesn’t need it when he’s talking to other werewolves.”

“Doesn’t he Apparate?”

“I suppose he doesn’t.”

Tonks set the wand back down carefully beside the jar of Floo powder. Lily extricated her hand from James’s with similar care.

“Watch them for me, will you?” Lily asked. “I’m going to help Picksie take care of the kitchen. I think James left half his blood in the floorboards.”

“Is it always this bad?” Tonks asked.

Lily shook her head. “I think it’s a lot harder, not just because Sirius is gone, and what that means to the both of them but — well, I think simply it is much harder for a deer to manage a wolf than for a dog to manage a wolf.”

Tonks suddenly understood all of Remus’s wounds. She imagined what it must have been like for James, who maintained his reasonable senses during the full moon, to have to corral a wolf in the body of a prey animal, to know he could defend himself but not in any way that might injure Remus too terribly until it was nearly sunrise, and help would be on the way. Tonks could see why he was so desperate to not let another full moon pass in this fashion.

She walked back to Remus’s side and settled herself into the small space between him and James, listening to their steady breathing. Though she knew Remus had passed a violent night, and those violent feelings were still trapped inside of him, he looked peaceful like this. Worn down in the corners of his eyes and in the grey in his hair, and gaunt just hours after a transformation, but peaceful. There was a thin scar that split his lower lip in two, and a striking set of stripes across his nose, but she did not think they made him any less attractive. She’d always been intrigued by her cousin’s best friend, this man who was quiet, respectful, and yet had somehow managed to capture the attention of someone as wild and loud as Sirius Black.

Remus’s breathing changed, and Tonks was pulled from her reverie. She pressed two fingers against Remus’s neck and checked his pulse. It was steady. She let out a sigh of relief, and, just to be sure, took her wand and ran it over his chest again. She saw no sign that anything had torn or open, felt no injury she had not repaired. Her own heartbeat slowed as she realized Remus was alright.

Then his eyes fluttered open and her heart rate picked up once more. They were green like Lily’s though not as striking, and they seemed strangely unfocused. They settled onto Tonks’s eyes and she wondered for a moment what colour they were. Were they her more usual warm brown? Had they settled into her mother’s grey eyes? Were they something else entirely? Something out of her control?

“Well this is a cruel trick,” Remus whispered, and smiled wryly.

Tonks’ mind whirred like a Snitch desperate to be free of a Seeker’s grasp, but she found no answer, no way to interpret the strange words and expression. Remus only made it worse as he reached up and pressed his hand to her cheek.

“I always knew I hated myself but I didn’t think I’d punish myself with a vision of you with his face.”

Before Tonks could protest that she was not a vision and that this was her face, just her unaffected face, Remus pulled her close and kissed her.

He tasted like blood. He smelled like morning dew. She had not expected to feel the raised scar on his lower lip, but she did. For a moment — the briefest of moments — she closed her eyes and allowed herself to believe this was real, and that she wasn’t going to pretend, for his sake, that he truly had been dreaming.

She pulled herself away and swallowed down the tears that swelled in her throat. “You should rest,” she said.

“You won’t be here when I wake up,” he protested.

“No,” she said. “I won’t.”

Despite her honesty, it seemed that the brief attempt at wakefulness was all he had, and he returned to his proper dreams. Tonks wondered if she would continue to feature in them. It was unfortunate she had never mastered Legilimency. There had been a special course for Aurors, but it required the steadiness of a one-track mind. Tonks may have been stubborn enough to succeed at difficult challenges, but focusing on one thing alone was too much for her.

Which is why her mind was still spinning down several different paths, spiraling out of control. Remus had kissed her. He had not thought she was Sirius. He had not thought she was someone else. He had known who she was, and had only noted she looked like a Black, that she looked like Sirius. He had known who she was and he had kissed her.

But he had thought it was a dream. Did it make a difference?

She wondered if that moment was the only one she would ever get.

She wondered if that moment made everything better or worse.

“Everything alright?” Lily asked. “Tonks?”

Tonks still had her wand on Remus’s chest. Though her mind was running at a hundred miles an hour, she had not moved an inch.

“Fine,” she said, though she could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She shoved her wand into her pocket and rubbed her eyes until she did not feel like she was about to break. “He’s alright — I just had a little…. It was nothing.”

“Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve got to go back to Hogwarts soon, don’t you?”

“Twelve on, twelve off,” she sighed. She was supposed to be there by nine in the morning, but Mad-Eye had made her swear not to come back until noon. She’d overworked her shift to make sure Katie was cared for, and he’d made her promise to take her entire break. She checked her watch. It was nearly eight am now. She might have fallen asleep on her feet or curled up under the portrait of Sir Cadogan if she’d had to be at the castle by nine.

“I have a few hours,” she said.

“I made a room ready for you yesterday, just in case.”

“Thanks.”

Lily warned her to skip the fourth step on her way upstairs. Tonks thought remembering on her way up was simple enough. Remembering on her way back down would be harder.

Tonks collapsed into bed, not even positive it was the right bed. She could be in Harry’s bed for all she knew, but she didn’t care. Even her worries over Remus vanished when her head hit the pillow, and she knew nothing but sleep.

When her pocketwatch alarm did finally chirp at her, reminding her it was time to return to Hogwarts, the warm afternoon sun was spilling over the bed. It was warm, and she did not want to leave it for the brisk wind of Hogsmeade. Why did Hogwarts have to be so far north anyway?

But she had a job to do. Tonks pulled herself out of bed with a lot of grunting and groaning and stumbled downstairs. She skipped the fourth step largely by accident, after nearly tripping over the fifth, and returned to the sitting room.

Lily was there, but she had fallen asleep on the floor, not far from where James had been laying. She did not see James, but she noted that the door to James and Lily’s bedroom was open. She was glad James was awake and on his feet. She ought to be polite and say goodbyes, but she didn’t want to disturb any of them.

That, of course, all fell apart when she reached for the Floo Powder and dropped it to the floor. The ceramic bowl crashed into the stone hearth and Tonks swore under her breath. It was easy enough to repair, but the damage had been done. She heard movement behind her, the rustling of sheets. She prayed it was Lily. Her prayers went unheard.

“Tonks?” Remus said in a quiet, groggy voice. It was such a raw tone, and Tonks wished he would repeat her name that way over and over again. That prayer went unheard, too.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

As she scooped Floo into the newly fixed jar, she reminded herself not to turn around. She could not let him see her face. She could not let him realise his mistake.

“I just came to make sure you were alright,” she said. “Sirius and the Potters aren’t the only ones who get to worry about you.”

He was quiet as she replaced the jar of Floo Powder on the mantle. She told herself not to turn around. She told herself to throw the powder in and just go. He was alright, he was awake, and she did not need him to know that he had really kissed her. It would only hurt him.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t be here?”

“You shouldn’t care.” It was such a vulnerable whisper, Tonks wondered if he still thought he was dreaming.

“But I do,” she said, with as much of her own vulnerability as she could muster.

“Well don’t,” he snapped.

Remus was the most reasonable and empathetic person Tonks had ever met, but in this one thing he was proving to be so unreasonably stubborn. She couldn’t understand how he could tell her to simply stop caring, when surely he, of all people, knew how little control you had over who you fell in love with.

She turned around, and it brought her no joy to see his tired, defeated face slacken into shock then twist into horror as he saw the proud Black family cheekbones and her strong jawline, so like Sirius’s. She knew the horror was not at how she looked but at the realisation of what he’d done.

“Fine,” she said. “If you don’t want to talk like adults, we won’t talk like adults. When you’ve decided that you’re ready to be friends again, and actually talk to me like another human being, let me know.” Tonks threw the Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepped through the green flames into the Potters’ cottage in Hogsmeade. She let the cold, brisk wind dry her tears as she continued her solitary walk back up to Hogwarts castle.

#harry potter and the half-blood prince #nymphadora tonks #remus lupin #harry potter everyone lives au #hp everyone lives #hbp

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owlways-and-forever · 5 years ago

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Summary: Lily Evans thought her life would be normal. Well, as normal as it can be for a muggle-born witch in England. But when her boyfriend turns out to be the prince of the wizarding world, and tensions begin to rise among factions of wizarding society, Lily must find her way in situations she never anticipated, and try not to lose sight of her identity. Word Count: 4,239 (41,766) Links: ao3 | FFnet | Tumblr: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9

A/N: Welcome back! This chapter went in a completely different direction than I initially thought it would, but it just kind of seemed to want to write itself this way. It's a little emotional and I think I should give you all a head's up that this chapter does deal with sexual assault. If you're not comfortable reading that, I'll include a summary of important points from this chapter in the AN of the next one so you can keep reading without missing anything. With that, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 10

In the weeks since Whitefire Palace had made it's announcement, Lily's situation had improved somewhat. Articles still came out every now and then, but they had less fodder to them than they had before. At most, it was commentary on her outfits, or stories that were so blatantly false they were almost laughable. She was able to put it all aside and continue with her life as usual. James had taken the liberty of having her added to the Come and Go list at the Palace, so they had taken to spending their nights together in James' apartments instead of at Lily's shared home. She had been so traumatized by the article that she found it hard to relax in her own apartment, but they both felt more secure at the Palace.

But work was becoming more intense for both of them, and between that and their Order missions, their time together was quickly becoming limited to catching a few hours of sleep between late nights and early mornings. Often James would crawl into bed long after Lily had gone to sleep, and she would have to rise with the sun. They seemed to keep missing each other, and it was rapidly becoming frustrating for both of them.

"I've got to go away for a little bit," James said, stroking her hair lightly. It was Lily's first day off in weeks, and they were enjoying a little bit of time cuddling together before James had to get ready to attend some stuffy lunch.

"Away? Where?" Lily asked, twisting a little to look at him.

"To Italy, for a diplomatic visit with Sirius," he answered. "And then I think Remus and Peter are going to meet us after to have a bit of a lads' weekend on one of the islands."

"Really?" she pressed, skeptical. She knew all too well the kinds of things Sirius had gotten up to in school, and she could only imagine what he would do with an unsupervised weekend thousands of miles away.

"Don't worry, Lily, you know I'm yours," James soothed, pressing a kiss to the worry lines between her brows. Though they dissipated slightly, her anxieties were still there, twisting into tight knots in her gut.

"It's not really that," she said, frowning. "It's just…" She shook her head and bit back her words, not wanting to start a fight.

"Lily, what?" he encouraged. "You can tell me anything."

"It's just that, well, we haven't had much time together lately, and I just feel a bit…" She struggled to find the right words, and restarted her thoughts. "You don't have any time to spend with me, but you can clear an entire weekend to party with Sirius, Remus, and Peter."

"Lily it's not like that," he insisted, clearly upset by her words.

"No?"

"No," James stated defiantly. He was starting to feel very defensive. "Any why shouldn't I have fun with my friends? You don't have a monopoly over me, Lily."

"That's not what I meant," Lily backtracked, taken aback by his statement.

"You don't get first dibs on my time," he barrelled on, riled up at that point. "My friends aren't just some random people who get me whenever you've cast me off or when you've decided you're too busy. We've been friends for a long time, and they deserve some of my attention too."

"I never said they didn't," Lily replied, her face warming as she felt tears starting to form. She knew she hadn't done anything wrong, and his words should have been making her angry, but she simply couldn't find it in her. She just felt sad. It felt like they were diving off a cliff, the beginning of the end.

"Besides, I'm only nineteen," he continued without any sign that he'd heard her. "I should be allowed to party and have fun still. Just because I'm in a relationship, doesn't mean I've died."

"That's not all you want," Lily hissed, finally finding the anger. "Because if you really just wanted to party, then we could go out in London, or you could've asked me to go with you. I like a party as much as anyone, and you know it would've been fun with me too. But you don't want to party with your girlfriend, because then you wouldn't have girls fawning over you and offering you anything you want and sucking up to you. You want the attention, you want everyone in the world hitting on you, and if I'm there, I'll spoil that, but Sirius will probably be trying to convince you that you should shag some random girl because it's not cheating if it's a different country or because we fought or if you only go so far, or maybe he'll just say that none of it matters because you're royalty and everybody knows that comes with the lifestyle."

"Lily, I would never -" James tried to interrupt, suddenly looking stricken, but Lily was already on the verge of tears and she didn't want him to see her cry this time, not when she couldn't stand the sight of him.

"Whatever, have fun on your trip," she said, with a final huff, striding from the apartment and slamming the door shut behind her.

She almost wished he would come running after her, tell her he wouldn't go, that clearly it bothered her and he cared about that more than some stupid lads' weekend. But he didn't, and it felt like a slap across her face.

o . o . o

James had several reasons for his trip to Italy. He was on a diplomatic mission on behalf of the crown, it was true, but it was all but a secret that he had volunteered to go on the trip instead of his parents. On Corsica, there was a renowned jewelry-maker, who was able to create little galaxies inside his gemstones. The lad's weekend was really just a cover to give him reason to be on the little island, should he be spotted. And it was true that he hadn't spent much time with his friends lately, so he really would enjoy it.

Of course, once Dumbledore had gotten wind of his trip, he'd tacked on another mission of his own. James was tasked with sniffing out possible international recruits and allies. Dumbledore was worried that Voldemort was beginning to extend his influence outside of Great Britain. It was going to add a few extra days onto his trip, he would be away for a little over a week in total.

James hated leaving Lily, especially after the fight they'd had. He wished that he could clear the air with her before he left at the very least, but their schedules just didn't sync up. He looked around wistfully before stepping into the spacious limo, half hoping Lily would show up to say goodbye. But she didn't, so he simply sighed and climbed into the vehicle to prepare for his flight.

The limo was the pride and joy of the Royal Family's fleet. It had started out with the idea of a flying carpet, being outfitted and upgraded over time. Now, it was completely state of the art, with all the most advanced magical enchantments on it. Inside, the limo was as spacious as a private jet, with a stocked kitchenette, a full closet, and even a small bedroom for particularly long (or late) flights. From the outside, it had an array of concealment charms. When driving on the ground, it would appear as any ordinary limo to onlookers, little British flags flying from the front to identify it as a diplomatic envoy. But when flying, the vehicle would take on the guise of an owl, perfect for flying anywhere needed without arousing suspicion. It was a really magnificent little vehicle.

The trip itself was short and uneventful, but the moment they landed on the ground, their schedule was packed. James and Sirius stepped out of the limo to cheers from the gathered onlookers, and were greeted by the Italian Foreign Minister. They did a quick walk about, saying hello to the fans who had waited to see them, before being ushered inside to begin their day of meetings.

Five full days of meetings and engagements at charitable institutions. Touring hospitals and orphanages and schools all around the country. It was dull, especially since James only understood half of what was being said - honestly, it was shocking that they couldn't find better translators - and Sirius was getting restless. At night, they took a few surreptitious meetings on behalf of Dumbledore, but they weren't making as much progress and he had hoped. They spent another two days speaking with prominent members of the wizarding families, and though they were diplomatic in their responses, James wasn't feeling optimistic that it would come to anything. The Italian wizards seemed to think that the situation couldn't possibly be as dire as they were making it sound, and offered little support. The Minister himself, James was sure, was a lost cause, and he barely even bothered with any of his recruitment arguments.

And throughout the whole thing, James kept thinking about Lily. He felt awful about the way they'd parted, and he wanted so desperately to be able to talk to her. He made a mental note to give her something along the lines of his and Sirius' two way mirrors, so that they wouldn't be in this situation again. Although she probably would've smashed it after that fight. He just wanted to be with her again, and apologize for the way this was done. And ideally hear her apologize for snapping at him. Only two more days.

o . o . o

James wished he could say that he'd been careful, that he'd been mindful of Lily's words and her feelings and he'd kept the drinking to a minimum and made sure he didn't do anything that could possibly be misconstrued. He wished he could say even one of those things. But James was an absolute idiot, so he couldn't.

He had known, when Sirius said that he found a party on a private yacht and scored invites for all of them, that it was a bad idea. Yacht parties meant too much fancy alcohol and girls in bikinis and paparazzi taking blurry pictures that made it look like anything was happening - especially things that were most definitely not happening.

He had known, when he saw the girl staring at him from across the boat with eyes like a lioness hunting her prey, that he should be careful. He knew what that look meant, and he knew he should stop drinking so he could stay alert. And yet somehow he still accepted the next drink Sirius thrust at him, and the one after that, and then another still.

Everything became a fog, and the rocking of the boat did nothing to help his balance. He needed to find somewhere to sit down, or lie down, but he couldn't for the life of him think where that might be. And then she was there, standing right in front of him in the doorway, with her amber eyes fixed on him boldly. She was pretty, but her eyes were the wrong color, and so was her hair. She was all wheat-coloured, not shades of Christmas. He needed to find green eyes.

"Dove stai andando?" she asked, a question that James did not even begin to comprehend, but her voice had a buttery quality to it, like silk sheets over smooth skin.

James frowned at her, but she simply smiled, leaning her shoulders back against the frame of the door so that her hips were still angled toward him. She curled her fingers around the waistband of his swim trunks, but James stepped away quickly.

"I… I need to sit down," he said, excusing himself and staggering backward. He wanted to get away from her, and he definitely did not want to walk past her to the bedroom he knew was hidden away somewhere.

He turned and walked across the deck as well as his legs could carry him, fulling aware that he was teetering and careening with each hasty step. Finally, he found an empty pool chair, and he collapsed into it. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Merlin it felt good to sit. Now that his eyes were closed, he couldn't seem to open them. He must have fallen asleep because he was having a great dream.

In his dream, he must not have fought with Lily, he must have asked her to come with them. Or maybe she simply decided to surprise him. But she wasn't mad at him. She was straddling his hips, grinding down on him, her breasts tantalizingly close to his face, he could feel it. If they weren't at a party, her bikini top would be off so that his lips could find every inch of skin unimpeded. His hands found her backside, a bare expanse of smooth skin. If he was quick, he could probably move aside the little scrap of fabric that was between them and nobody would be any the wiser.

Except Dream Lily didn't smell right. His Lily always smelled like flowers and vanilla and a little bit like antiseptic, even when they were at the beach. But Dream Lily smelled like sun tan lotion and alcohol and something like licorice, which was just all wrong. And then she was disappearing, being yanked away from him, and James could hear shouting and he tried to open his eyes. They felt so heavy.

"Get the hell away from him," he heard Remus snarl, and he knew that it wasn't a Dream Remus because his mind could never nail the feral nature Remus' voice took on when he was furious. "C'mon James, we're leaving now."

Remus's hands were around James' ribs, yanking him up to a standing position, and he felt someone smaller slip underneath his shoulder on the other side. Peter, probably. With a pop and a quick jerk, they were moving, squeezing through space, and then they hit the floor in their hotel hard. James vomited where he stood, heaving. Alcohol and Apparition were not a good combination.

"Let's get to bed, mate," Remus sighed, and he and Peter helped James to the bedroom, and then he was well and truly asleep.

o . o . o

James awoke with his head pounding and a vague memory of what happened the night before. He felt swamped in regret - he'd but such an idiot. He scrambled from the bed and emerged into the little common area of their shared suite, Remus sitting at the table sipping on coffee while Peter scrambled what looked like at least two dozen eggs.

"Morning," James groaned, sinking into the seat next to Remus. His friend slid the coffee pot across the table, allowing James to fill the empty mug in front of him.

"Eggs, beans and toast are all on the way," Peter announced loudly, and James winced at the volume. "Sorry. In a bit of pain?"

"Not as much as you deserve I reckon," Remus snorted, tossing a set of newspapers across the table at James.

The text winked and flickered for a moment as the papers tried to find the right language for James, before finally settling on English. He wished they'd remained unintelligible though. In reality, the titles weren't even relevant, it was the pictures that were damning. That blasted girl with a seductive grin and her hand sneaking under his trunks. Her sitting on top of him, her fingers in his hair as his hands caressed her backside. James felt like vomiting again as he looked at them, and he threw them aside.

"She's gonna see those, you know," Remus admonished. "You're a right ass."

"I know," James answered sullenly. "She's going to leave me for this."

"Frankly, I think she's going to murder you for it, but yeah, either way, I don't think you'll be together anymore," Remus said. He clearly had little sympathy for his friend.

"You know that it wasn't… that I didn't want to…?" James struggled to find the right words for what had happened to him the night before.

"Of course I know that not of it was bloody consensual!" he exclaimed, frustrated. "Why do you think I got you out of there so damn fast? But James, you put yourself in this situation, and that is what is hard to forgive."

"I -" James began, a little bit outraged by his friend's stance.

"Oh not the position to be assaulted, nobody ever gets themselves into that," Remus sighed exasperatedly. "But you knew that people would take pictures and there might even be paparazzi. You knew that anyone was just dying to snap a photo of you talking to another girl just a little bit too close. You were mad at Lily and you wanted to hurt her, so you got drunk anyway and got yourself in a situation that you knew would almost certainly result in pictures like this."

"You think I wanted to hurt Lily?" James asked, more than a little bit shocked by the statement. "I just bought her a damn engagement ring!"

"James, we know you as well as anyone, and you have a temper on you," Peter chimed in, placing the breakfast plates on the table. "Besides, loving someone doesn't mean you'll never get mad at them."

James chewed on his eggs as he thought over his friends' words. Perhaps they were right and he'd been angry. Maybe it had made him stupid.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked. "It's time to go home."

o . o . o

James was sullen throughout their journey home, trying to decide what he could possibly say to Lily so she would understand and hopefully forgive him. He hated himself for screwing this up, and would give anything not to have gone to the party. As soon as they arrived in London, James hopped into the shower. Somehow, he didn't think it would help his case if he still smelled like vodka and vomit. He left for Lily's apartment as soon as he was dressed again. Lily was probably at work, but he would simply wait until she got home.

There was no one at the apartment when James arrived, and though he could easily let himself in, he felt like it would be an intrusion in this case. Lily deserved the opportunity to deny him entry if it's what she wanted. He sank to the floor and rested his elbows on his knees, tapping his feet on the ground anxiously.

Almost two hours passed before James heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and he straightened up. Lily rounded the corner and he immediately scrambled to his feet, quickly brushing his hair back in his typical nervous habit.

"Lily, can we talk?" he asked, trying not to get his hopes up.

She ignored him, walking straight past him with a hardened expression and unlocking the door to her apartment. But she didn't shut the door again behind her, and James took that as an invitation. He stepped cautiously into the little apartment, softly shutting the door and hovering by the entrance, waiting.

"I know I fucked up," he said after a long moment.

She did say anything, but Lily reached into her bag, pulling out two newspapers and throwing them on the kitchen counter with an aggressive slap. James cringed at the sound and wished he could crawl into a hole as he saw the headlines.

LILY LEFT BEHIND

EVANS ELIMINATED IN THE RACE FOR PRINCESS

"You could have at least told me," she spat, pulling out a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water. There was venom in her words, but James was almost positive that she had turned away so that he couldn't see her cry.

"It's not what it looks like," he said, cursing the words for their cliche, and she scoffed. "I swear on Merlin's wand, Lily, please just hear me out."

"Well this ought to be fun," she huffed, sitting down on the sofa with her arms crossed and anger boiling like a potion in her eyes.

"Look," James began, taking a deep breath, "I fucked up, Lily, I know I did. I shouldn't have gone to the party with the guys, and I definitely shouldn't have been drinking. There's no denying it. But I didn't do that."

"So what? The pictures are doctored?" LIly asked, her eyebrows flying up in skepticism.

"No, they're real, but I…" James paused, his expression pleading with Lily even as she was shaking her head and turning away. "Lily the first picture, I was feeling dizzy, and I was trying to find a place to sit down for a bit, and I wanted you, and she came up to me, and… I don't even know what she said, but she reached out and then I excused myself. We spoke for maybe thirty seconds, that's it."

Lily stood there, still looking angry, but she hadn't shoved him out of the apartment yet, so he knew he still had a few minutes to explain, or at least try to.

"I don't really know what happened in the second photo, Lily," he continued, sighing and running his hand through his hair as he stared down at the ground with furrowed brows. "I remember finding the chair and collapsing in it, and then I think I fell asleep. I remember dreaming of you, but it felt weird, like something was off. And then Remus was shouting and waking me and carting me off to the hotel. And I know it looks bad, but I swear on Merlin's hat that I didn't want any of it, I didn't even know…"

"James…" Lily replied, her expression softening a bit. "James, that's assault."

"I… yeah, I guess it is," he answered, trying not to think about it too hard. "Honestly, Lily, I haven't thought about it except for how badly I've fucked this all up, and I'm sorry. I don't think I can tell you enough, but I really am."

"It's okay," she said, reaching out to push his hair back from his forehead.

"I und - what?"

"It's okay," she repeated. "I understand that it wasn't something you did intentionally, or even wanted. But are you okay?"

"I don't know," James answered honestly. "I really haven't thought about it like that."

"I think… look, obviously this is pretty emotional for both of us," Lily reasoned, "and I think we should try to maybe stay out of the public eye for a bit until everything is cooled down a bit."

"Right, yeah," he agreed, emotions other than panic and regret starting to sink in for the first time.

"Come on, let's just go sit down for a bit," Lily suggested, tugging on his arm for a moment.

They curled up together on the sofa, trying to remind themselves that everything was alright. Lily felt exhausted from the rollercoaster of emotions that she had been on throughout the week. She wouldn't be surprised if it took a week's worth of sleep to recover. Meanwhile James had only just begun to process what had happened during the trip, and he was more than a little overwhelmed.

"Hey Lils?" he said, trying to turn his mind to something happier.

"Mmm?" she hummed, content where she was with her head resting on his shoulder.

"What if we went on a vacation together?" James asked nervously. "I wanted to ask you before I left, but then we fought and things got so mucked up. But we could go anywhere you wanted - to the Caribbean, or to the Sahara, or wherever. Some time for just the two of us."

"That'd be nice," Lily agreed, smiling. She hoped she would dream of luxurious vacations and desperately needed time away from work, rather than worrying about the nightmare they'd been going through for the past few weeks. Things would start to look up, they had to, she was sure of it.

#gen writes #atttr #jily #jily ff #jily fic #jily au #royalty au #james potter #lily evans

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