38: Hiding
But Rosmerta’s words were utterly lost on Remus. All he knew, all he could feel, was the relentless, accusing glare of eyes.
Nobody spoke. Nobody said a word. They didn’t need to. Their eyes said it all.
The light-hearted fun of a moment before had been sucked into oblivion and left only the cold and dark behind. Whatever Rosmerta said, with his drunken exposure by Fergus, he was no longer welcome here.
He had to go.
Pulling his scarf more tightly around his neck, Remus reached for the gloves he had left on the bar. But before he could move more than a step, a hand clamped instantly around his wrist. The dark eyes of Tonks stared up at him with a mixture of confusion and accusation.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she inquired softly.
He was being watched. Eyes everywhere, whispers in the shadows. They were waiting for him to leave. The weight of their distrust almost buckled him.
Hurriedly, anxiously Remus dropped back into his seat and leaned closer to his companion. It was just for a moment. Just so he could explain.
“I can’t stay here, Tonks,” he murmured, his eyes pleading for his wrist’s release. “Not after that…”
The Auror cocked her head thoughtfully. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t Fergus the one that just got barred?”
Remus closed his eyes. “Tonks…”
“I’m not going to let you.” The metamorphmagus’s voice was brusque, but there was an unmistakable note of anxiety buried deep inside. “I’m not going to let you run away and hide, Remus Lupin. You’re always doing that and you have to stop. You’re not the problem here and you’ve every right to drink and mess about with a friend in peace. If they don’t like it, sod the lot of them.”
Remus sighed, fingering his scarf uncertainly. “It’s really not that simple…”
“Why is it not?” Remus opened his eyes once more to find Tonks’ stare burying itself into his own. “You’ll take Dumbledore’s word for it but not mine? Remus, how are you supposed to show people how wrong they are if you run off and hide every time some idiot decides to take a pop at you?”
Tearing his eyes away from her gaze, Remus stared absently down at the counter. “Tonks, perhaps that might have been possible before,” he said, his voice laced with soft bitterness and deep regret. “But Abraham Kane killed a man here. He almost killed half of the school. And according to a newspaper trusted implicitly by most of the wizarding world, I am to be regarded as nearly as bad as he is. I am forever linked with him and him with me. Whatever I do, I doubt that will be easily forgotten.”
Tonks was staring furiously at the ceiling. “But it was rubbish!” she declared from between gritted teeth, fighting to keep her voice to a respectable level to ward off further stares. “Rita Skeeter had her quill stuck up her…”
“Nevertheless,” Remus interrupted quickly before the young Auror chose to get any more graphic. “That doesn’t change the facts. They don’t know that and they are unlikely to ever be told different. I cannot avoid or escape my association with Kane no matter what I do.”
“So why do you keep trying?” Tonks leaned sharply forward. “Why do you keep running away?”
Remus bit his lip. “Because I do not want to be somewhere that I am despised for something that I can in no way help!”
There was a long silence.
The fervour faded from Tonks’ face as she stared at him slowly. Gently, she reached forward and squeezed his hand.
“It was the bite, wasn’t it?” she said suddenly, with an uncharacteristic soft seriousness. “The personal reason you wouldn’t tell me that time in The Howling “ it was that Kane was the one who made you a werewolf and brought all this down on you.”
Remus carefully avoided her gaze at the flood of unpleasant memories that her observation invoked. He was not going to discuss this in the middle of a pub full of people who wanted him gone.
“Partly, yes,” he admitted finally. “There was a little more to it than that but I’m afraid I’m not really ready to discuss it with anyone but my dad right now.”
To his surprise, Tonks made no protest “ she simply reached forward and wrapped both her hands around his.
“Well, that’s up to you.” She spoke slowly, as though considering every word with care: it made a stark contrast to her usual helter-skelter style of conversation. “But Remus, you’re really starting to worry me. You don’t talk anymore.” She shrugged slightly. “Okay, you were never exactly a chatty bloke in the first place, but this is different. You’re just keeping everything you think and feel bottled up inside and mate, it’s just not healthy. No one can take that kind of pressure and since Sirius died, I’ve been half waiting for you to blow, to let rip with anger, or sarcasm or tears or something. But you don’t and that kind of scares me because that means the pressure’s still there. And then with this stupid Kane business piling in too, not to mention bloody Skeeter…” She sighed deeply. “To be honest, that’s kind of the reason I asked you here tonight. I really wanted to you to relax, open up a bit maybe, and even let some steam off. I wasn’t expecting a visit from Fergus the bigoted drunk.” She frowned grimly at the prostrate, snoring figure as she toyed loosely with her companion’s hands. “I don’t want to butt in if you don’t want me to. But I can see you going down the same way as Sirius and I don’t think I can stand to watch that again.”
Remus stared at her. “Sirius? What do you mean?”
Tonks met his eyes once more. “I know you noticed too,” she stated softly, lowering her voice carefully to avoid unfriendly ears. “Sirius and Grimmauld Place “ he was going mental in there, prowling around like a caged animal, brooding about Harry and chaffing at being as good as banged up again after all that time he lost in Azkaban. But he never talked about it. He just let the steam build and build until….” Her voice trailed away and she bit her lip.
Remus fought down a cold chill as he remembered the fervour on Sirius’ face that last day, his absolute insistence that he would not be left behind again. Out of Grimmauld Place to help Harry “ Remus could see in his eyes that no force on Earth would have made him stay behind. It had been gathering too long inside for him to bear the strain a moment longer.
“He blew,” he whispered softly. “And he died for it.”
Tonks nodded softly. “And just over a week ago, you nearly joined him.”
There was a long silence.
The young Auror’s eyes were glistening but she allowed no tears to fall. “I loved Sirius,” she said softly. “He was my cousin and my friend and I wish more than anything that I could have had more time to get to know him. But maybe if he hadn’t tried to deal with all his problems by himself, he might still be here. And I can’t stand to think that the same thing might happen to you. And maybe you hide it better, Remus, but you can’t deny that you’re in pretty dire need of a vent.”
Remus half opened his mouth to respond, but her sharp squeeze of his hands froze the words hovering on his lips.
“No Remus, just let me finish, okay?” she pre-empted him gently. “You’ve been keeping secrets for months and look what it got you.” Leaning forward gently, she pulled down the edge of his scarf to expose the scarred skin underneath. “Scars inside and out that you keep on trying to cover. You’ve got to stop hiding, Remus. You hate confrontations and you hate that people might think badly of you and so you hide from them all so the don’t have the chance. Maybe that’s because you’re afraid of what they might say about you being a werewolf or whatever, but mate “ give people a chance. Let them give you a chance. And if they aren’t willing to do that, they aren’t worth knowing.”
Remus cocked an ironic eyebrow. “People like Fergus?”
Tonks ignored him quite deliberately. Carefully she leaned forward, her expression of concern reluctantly forcing away the bitterness of his.
“And Remus “ give me a chance,” she said, her voice filled with sudden intensity, her eyes pleading. “You don’t have to hide from me. I know I’m clumsy and a terror to innocent furniture and do daft things with my hair, and I know you said I scare you.” She smiled slightly. “But I want you to understand that if you need to talk to someone, or just want to go out, have some fun and some laughs and forget about the stupid world, you can always, always come to me. Because I’ll always be there. Waiting in the wings with chocolate frogs at the ready and all the butterbeer you can drink without bursting. So come on.” She jostled him slightly, her smile now tentatively crooked. “Tell Auntie Tonks your problems and she’ll see what she can do. I promise you’ll feel better for it.”
Remus stared at her, at the impulsive, wild haired, usually cheerful young woman who was regarding him with such perceptive seriousness and felt a sudden rush of gratitude for her. It had been so long since he had spent time with a friend he could simply talk to, a friend who would listen to his problems and willingly share them; oh, there had been Sirius of course, but considering the burden of grief that had been laid across his shoulders by fate, Remus had not felt it right to inflict him with his own petty-by-comparison concerns. He had forgotten just how much he missed it.
And how much he needed it too.
He smiled. “Where do you want me to start?”
* * *
Midnight chimed. Snow burdened clouds flitted across the sliver of a crescent moon.
“Alohamora!”
With an uncertain creak, the lock holding closed the window to Remus Lupin’s bedchamber sprung open. A gloved hand stretched from snowy skies to pull it wider.
“Careful! It’s a long way down, you know.”
“Yes, thank you Tonks, I can see that.”
“Sarcasm, Professor, is the lowest form of wit.”
“I’d sooner it didn’t get any lower, if you don’t mind. Because it’ll be about six storeys lower if you don’t keep this broom still.”
“Oh, honestly. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“About twenty years in the past. Oh dear Gods, please don’t twitch like that! This isn’t a very big windowsill I’m aiming for and it’s icy!”
“You’ll be fine. That natural werewolf agility and all. Though I must admit you’re the only man I know who can get tipsy on butterbeer alone.”
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. Why on earth didn’t you just take me to the door like I asked?”
“Where’s the fun in that? Anyway, you said you were knackered. I was trying to save you from all those stairs.”
“Stairs or a plunge to my death. Quite a choice.”
“Oh just get off my broom and stop moaning. Call yourself a Marauder?”
“Okay, I’m serious now. Just hold it steady…”
“Careful!”
“I’m being careful!”
“Grab onto the window frame!”
“I am! Tonks!”
“That was the wind! Not me!”
“Just don’t…I’m almost…there!”
CRASH!
From the darkened, snow swirled skies, Tonks hunched down on her broomstick against the chill bite of the wind and peered slowly into the unlit blackness of the chamber beyond.
“You know,” she commented thoughtfully. “That was a really silly place to put a vase of flowers.”
The brow, dishevelled hair and utterly unimpressed eyes of Remus Lupin appeared slowly from below the windowsill.
“They were a get well present,” he informed her as he rested one hand against the sill and pulled himself unsteadily to his feet. “I had to put them somewhere. I’ll admit I didn’t allow for the contingency that they might someday be in the way when I clambered in through my sixth floor bedroom window after a night at the pub.”
“That was short-sighted of you.” Tonks grinned as she hunkered down into the warmth of her makeshift scarf, a rather odd arrangement of her own extremely over-lengthened hair that she had wrapped around her neck for the cold broom ride to Hogwarts. “Aren’t you going to fix it?”
Remus shrugged. “I’ll do it in the morning. I quite honestly can’t be bothered. I’m exhausted.”
Tonks squinted slightly. “No offence mate, but you look it too. I’m sorry I dragged you out.”
Remus shook his head at once. “Don’t be. I had fun.” He smiled rather ruefully. “For the first time in longer than I’d care to admit, as it happens.”
Tonks smiled back. “You certainly did liven up once I got a few butterbeers down you, even if you were flagging a bit by the end. So…” She settled nonchalantly upright on her broom. “You want to do this again sometime when you’re feeling better?”
Remus smiled sincerely. “I’d love to.”
The young Auror beamed. “Excellent! Well then I will see you soon, Professor Lupin.”
The werewolf gave a small mock salute. “See you soon Auror Tonks.”
Tonks blessed with one final cheeky smile. And then, with an exaggerated whoop, she turned her broomstick in the air and vanished into the depths of the snowy darkness.
Still smiling to himself, Remus reached over and pulled the window closed. Sidestepping the broken vase, he stumbled across the room and dropped himself with a groan onto his four-poster bed, wearily peeling off his scarf and gloves as he fought to keep his eyes open. A half-hearted flick of his wand brought the bedside lamp to life.
He wasn’t certain he had ever felt this tired. But it had been worth it.
There had certainly been fun and laughter to echo that early burst of daftness later on in that night at the Three Broomsticks, jokes and games and silliness that harked back to times of his youth he’d thought long lost. Firewhiskey had not been touched “ both parties had been of the opinion that they were more than capable of making prats of themselves whilst sober. It had been a long time, far too long a time, since he had spent a good night out with a friend.
But the early part of the night had been more serious. They had talked for more than two hours, ranging through a good number of the topics that had preyed recently upon his mind “ the reaction of the children and people who had read the Prophet to his return to teaching, his own still fragile health and of course, the weighty issue of Abraham Kane’s invitation. Tonks had reassured him on most counts and, although Remus was sure she was privately of the opinion that he would do better to rip his own eyeballs out than ever go near Kane again, she had allowed that it was his decision and his issues that needed to be weighed in order to make it. He was no closer to deciding what to do about Kane than he had been before he left. But now at least he had realised that the decision needed to be made.
No more hiding.
His eyes fell upon the drawer of his bedside table. He frowned.
Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled the drawer open and lifted out the Ministry letter inside, its seal unbroken, its words unread. He was a grown man. It was wrong of him to run away from a piece of paper.
But what the paper had to say…
For a long blank moment, Remus did nothing but stare down at the envelope grasped in his hands as he struggled within himself to summon up the courage he needed.
And then he broke the seal.