Dumbledore is dead.
The words resounded in Tonks's head as they all watched Harry leave the room with McGonagall. A long silence held.
It was broken by Bill, who shifted and murmured uneasily. Fleur let out a pretty little gasp and returned to her administrations over him, cooing and smoothing his face tenderly. Tonks almost couldn't bear to watch. If only she could do this to a certain other man ravaged by Greyback…
Ron was watching his parents and Fleur tend to Bill, worry etched into his features. "Professor Lupin?"
"Mmm?" Remus responded absently, his eyes trained on the scene as well. There were still tearstains on his thin face; Tonks's fingers itched, reaching automatically for her handkerchief.
"D'you – d'you think they're going to close the school? Now that…that…" Ron, it seemed, was unable to continue.
Remus sighed heavily. "I don't know, Ron. They might. It's likely. Or parents might see that, even without him, Hogwarts is still just as safe – or just as unsafe – as anyone's home."
No one even needed to ask who 'him' was. And no one wanted to say it out loud. It was too fresh, too raw, too unbelievable. Freely admitting to it was a shame to his memory.
Hermione sniffed, her eyes bright. "I – I think I'm going to go up to the girls' dormitory," she announced in a high-pitched voice. "I think I'd like to…to…"
She couldn't finish, and instead fled from the room.
Ginny, surprisingly calm and steady, spoke with only a bit of a tremor. "I'd better go see if she's okay. She doesn't get like this often, but…well, it's best that someone looks after her." She slipped out.
Ron's face was still troubled. "Guess I'd better go too, so I can be there when Harry comes back." Trailed by Luna Lovegood, he left.
This meant that, besides the Weasley parents and Fleur, Tonks and Remus were the only two visitors in the hospital wing. They had nothing left to do. Except…
In retrospect, Tonks was a little ashamed of being self-centered when Dumbledore had just died. It was so like her, to yell at Remus for not loving her when their greatest hero was dead and Bill was maimed for life. Somehow, though, the moment had called for it, and apparently no one terribly resented her for it, not even McGonagall. Remus might dislike it, he didn't like personal matters discussed in front of so many people, but he deserved it after what he'd put her through this year.
Then again, he'd said 'This is not the moment to discuss it.' Meaning that eventually, they would discuss it again. And what better time than now?
"Molly," she said in a low voice, "can we borrow the Burrow?"
Mrs. Weasley nodded knowingly, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Certainly, Tonks. Actually, I'd be much obliged if you'd feed the hens while you're there."
Tonks nodded, then glanced at Remus. "You coming?"
He hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. I'll come."
Well, that's a bright side, Tonks thought hopefully as they headed for the doors. At least he's actually coming…
The night air was cool on her face, tossing limp strands of her mousy hair this way and that. She drew in a breath sharply. It was so cold for a spring nearing summer. It was as if even the very air knew what they'd lost…
It did. As they walked, the sound of the anguished phoenix song rang through the stillness, piercing the night with its heartbroken beauty. Tonks stared up at the sky, and a reddish shadow skimmed across it. Fawkes.
And suddenly, it hit her, so hard that she actually gasped out loud. Dumbledore was dead, and would not come back. They were helpless, aimless, leaderless. Simply less. The Order would fall apart without his guidance. How would they go on?
And every single tear Tonks had managed to hold back over the past year, every single heartache, every single sob, it all came flooding out of her in a rush of pain that wouldn't end. She stopped in her tracks and balled her fists against her eyes, trying to stay the flow, but the fear and the sorrow were relentless.
Aware that Remus had paused too, she raised her head and tried to focus on him through teary eyes. And then, simultaneously, they flung themselves at each other and clung for dear life, weeping into one another's shoulders.
It was not the romantic thing to do. It was the right thing to do. Doubtful, even, that they were thinking about the strife and discomfort of the past year. Tonks certainly was not. She just needed a shoulder to cry on, and here was Remus, the most perfect shoulder she could possibly imagine.
For minutes they stood there, shaking under the pressure of their grief. It was so rare for Remus to ever show any type of emotion, and before that year, Tonks seldom cried. The tears were therefore coming harder and more violently than they would for anyone else.
Eventually, their stores of tears were sated. Tonks moved back first, and slowly they disengaged themselves, the weight of their actions suddenly hitting them full-force. Tonks felt a blush heat her neck and was surprised to see Remus turning red as well.
She laughed it off weakly. "I must look a sight," she murmured, sniffing a nose which was without a doubt pink.
"No worse than me," he replied, taking out a handkerchief and wiping his face.
Tonks patted her pockets and cursed. For once in her sad, sorry life, she didn't have a handkerchief.
Remus dug through his own pockets again and produced another one. "Here."
She shook her head furiously, still snuffling. "It's all right, Remus, really, I'll manage — "
"Tonks." He pressed the offending piece of cloth into her hand. "You need it more than I do. If you really feel that guilty, give me one of yours some time or another. For now, use that."
She gave up and scrubbed her face. "Okay. Thanks, Remus."
"And thank you," he said. "For…"
"Yeah," she finished, "I know."
They continued out of the grounds in silence, heading toward the Burrow, the place where they would finally decide it all.
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse...?
Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones
And I will try…to fix you…
~*~
The livestock pen was silent, as if it knew and comprehended the tragedy that had occurred.
Even now, Remus wasn't sure what had just taken place. Had Dumbledore really died? Had he and Tonks really just sobbed their hearts out into each other's shoulders? Had he really given Tonks his handkerchief? Had he really taken her hand as they walked, using it as an anchor, because if he didn't hold onto her he thought he might collapse?
And most importantly, was he ready for what was about to take place?
Remus had thought about it so many times, mulling it over in his head, weighing the pros and cons with an impartial mind. And still he did not know which course of action to choose.
The door to the Burrow was unlocked; obviously, the Weasleys and Fleur had been in too much of a dither to properly shut it behind them. Remus followed Tonks in silently, anticipating what was to come with dread and a dim sense of hope.
Hope…it didn't belong to a time like this. Not a night so devastating. Hope had no place here.
And yet…Dumbledore would have wanted it. Dumbledore wouldn't have minded this faith on the night of his death. He would have liked it, reveled in it, even.
This did nothing to help matters. If anything, it complicated Remus's thoughts further.
It occurred to him that he was still waiting for Tonks to speak. He watched her expectantly.
She didn't say anything. She only sank down at the kitchen table with a little sigh.
Without even thinking about it, Remus put some water on to boil and gathered the tea — earl grey, her favorite kind. His too, if it mattered.
It didn't take very long to make the tea. He brought it to the table in two steaming mugs. Mutely, he sat across from her and pushed one across the table toward her. She picked it up and sipped in silence.
The only noises were the sounds of their drinking and the occasional clunk as they set the mugs on the table. Remus didn't want to break this. It was a perfect moment in a terrifying evening.
But it had to be broken if they were going to solve anything. So, against his will, he ventured, "Should we talk?"
Tonks took a long sip before replying. "I dunno, Remus. Should we?"
He was confused. "I assumed that was what we came here to do."
She sighed. "Every time we talk about this certain matter, Remus, it seems that all we do is go around in circles. I'm not even sure why we should bother."
Something died inside him. She wasn't going to try again. He'd lost her, unless he spoke up, but principle and the nagging feeling of guilt wouldn't let him.
He stood. "All right. I'd better get going, then — "
"Remus, wait."
Remus turned.
Tonks was on her feet as well, reaching out. "Remus, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I do want to talk about it." She swallowed. "I need to talk about it."
She didn't make a move to sit back down; neither did he. Nervously, she started wringing her hands. "Remus, you know what I'm going to say."
"I do," he replied calmly. "And once again, I'm going to have to point out the three counts against me: I'm old, I'm poor with no home, and I'm a werewolf."
But suddenly, those excuses sounded exactly like what they were: excuses, flimsy and weak. He was finding them less and less convincing the more he thought about it. What if it didn't really matter? The scene between Bill, Fleur, and Mrs. Weasley in the hospital wing showed him that health should not be an insurmountable barrier, that it shouldn't be the problem he made it out to be. He was losing his conviction.
And Tonks saw it.
"Remus, it would be different if I didn't know about your condition," she said; though Remus didn't know it, she was echoing her words from her conversation with Mrs. Weasley. "But I know, and I don't care. Just like Fleur. Did you see how she stuck by Bill? I don't know about you, but I was sure she would leave him. But Fleur proved me wrong. That was real character back there. She was determined to stay with the man she loves through all his troubles, because she loves him so much she wouldn't let them get in the way. And you can be sure that Bill's not going to call off the wedding just because his face is a little messed up and he could be part werewolf. They're in love, Remus, and love can overcome that. And you're going to deny me that?
"Remus, I hate hearing you call yourself old. You're not old. You're only, what, thirty-six, thirty-seven. That's not old. I'm twenty-four, Remus. That's only thirteen years. It…all right, some may think it's a huge difference, but for God's sake, apparently Harry thought I was in love with Sirius, who's the same age and my second cousin besides, so I don't think anyone we know would be terribly bothered by it.
"And poor? Why would I care about you being poor? I have an income." She grinned at him jauntily, confidence growing around her in some sort of pulsating aura.
By now, it was almost more of a matter of principle to refuse her. Remus shook his head. "Tonks, I…"
Tonks shook her head, cutting off his words. "Remus, this is it. This will be the last time I ask this. It's now or never. Do you love me?"
Remus hesitated, but knew he was going to answer. Somehow he felt that if he didn't give way now, the rest of his life would be a misery. "I do."
She paused in her tirade, surprised. "What?"
"I do, Tonks — I love you more than you can imagine. But — "
She shushed him. "If you love me, why don't you trust me to make my own decisions?"
Remus opened his mouth, then shut it rather miserably. She had him. Checkmate.
Tonks pursued her advantage. She stepped closer. "If you love me, this means you see me not as a child, but as a woman. And that means I'm capable of making choices for myself." She took another step; they were very close now, nearly touching. Tonks gazed up at him, searching his face earnestly. "I've chosen you, Remus."
Remus watched her sadly, wanting desperately both to draw her forward and push her away. To protect her. For her own good. "Tonks — "
"Remus, how can it be a burden if I accept it with open arms?" she whispered, her smile trembling.
Remus weighed his options: he could refuse her once more and lose her forever; or he could take a stab at happiness, embrace what had eluded him nearly all his life. The answer was so obvious. Yet, upon deeper reflection, Remus realized he was scared. He'd been so unhappy all his life, he couldn't bear the thought of snatching joy only to lose it. To lose her. But if didn't say yes now…
He'd have no chance ever again. He'd never have a chance to lose her.
He'd been a fool the whole time.
Remus smiled slightly, holding up his hands. "I surrender."
Tonks's eyes went round; her mouth dropped open. "What?"
Gently, he reached out and tapped her chin with his index finger, closing her mouth for her. "I concede. You've made me see reason. I might regret this, but if I don't say yes, I won't ever have the chance to regret it. And maybe, just maybe…even if it's for a limited time…I can indulge in a bit of content. Just this once." He smiled slightly. "Maybe it's time. I've realized you and your state of mind are more important to me than my own. Just like Bill and Fleur. That's what love really is, and I was foolish not to see it."
"Oh." For a moment, Tonks seemed more limp than ever. Then she straightened, studying his face for truth again, the old, excited light rekindling in her eyes. "D'you – d'you mean it? You really do love me?"
He grinned outright at her enthusiasm. "I really do. I have this whole time."
"Oh…oh, Remus!" she squeaked, flinging her arms around his neck.
Once again, Remus slipped his arms around her waist, only this time, he was a lot more certain.
Tonks snuggled her face into his neck and breathed deeply, inhaling his scent of chocolate and flannel and autumn. Suddenly the world was infinitely brighter, and softer around the edges — less cruel, more forgiving. Amazing how one word could change her outlook on life.
Tonks was amazed to find that she was crying, the tears dripping off her face to soak into his collar. Remus must have felt them, for he pulled back, frowning. "Tonks, why…?"
She sniffed, laughing, wiping her nose. "Oh, I dunno…I'm so happy, I suppose, and I'm thinking back on the past year…"
He sighed. "I could have saved us so much heartache."
"Oh, Remus, don't," she protested, even if she secretly agreed. "No, I understand you now. You just didn't want to hurt me." She smiled. "I'm quite all right with that."
He smiled back. "You know, you're right," he commented.
She raised one eyebrow. "About what?"
His smile grew mischievous, reminding her why he had been one of the 'Marauders.' "You do look a bit of a sight when you cry."
Tonks swatted him playfully. He made no move to back away. "You're not allowed to say that," she told him, eyes dancing for the first time in a year.
"Oh?"
Tonks had no response, merely placed her hands on his waist — he hadn't let go of her yet. She smiled up at him hopefully. If he'd just get the message…
Remus looked rather confused and a bit edgy.
Tonks sighed inwardly and pressed closer to him, a very blatant physical hint. Remus gulped visibly, the nervousness increasing on his face.
Apparently I'm going to have to do everything in this relationship, Tonks thought wryly, standing on tiptoes and kissing him.
For a moment, Remus was so shocked that he actually reacted, kissing her as well, their lips parting sweetly…
Then he jerked back, his face beet red. "Don't you think this is going a little fast?"
Tonks raised her eyebrows, disappointed. "Remus, we've known each other for two years and apparently loved each other the whole time, so no, I don't really think so." She paused, scrutinizing his features, and narrowed her eyes, trying not to laugh. "There's something you're not telling me, isn't there." It wasn't a question.
Remus sighed ruefully. "The last time I kissed someone," he admitted slowly, "was in my sixth year, under mistletoe, because James practically shoved me into her. The only reason I was brave enough to do it was because Sirius spiked my butterbeer with firewhiskey."
Tonks laughed so hard she snorted. "You're not serious, are you?" she gasped, clutching a stitch in her side.
Remus watched her mirth reproachfully. "Sad but true."
She calmed down, a sly smile still dancing on her lips, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "So you're out of practice? Well, I suppose we'll just have to remedy that…"
They were quite busy for a few minutes after that as she reminded Remus how to kiss.
They remained close together even after, his arms firmly entwined around her waist and her around his neck, foreheads touching.
"Remus?" Tonks murmured.
"Mmm?"
"…I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of everyone," she said contritely. "I know you don't like personal matters exposed to the public."
He shook his head, his hair brushing her face. "It doesn't matter."
A little while later, he broke the silence. "Tonks?"
"Yeah?"
"What color is your ring?"
She held up her hand to see the mood ring and grinned. "Bright pink. With a yellow thread running through the design."
"Do you know what that means?"
Her grin widened. "Yeah. Love. Love hopeful, specifically. Because that's what we have now, hope. The yellow means happy. Happily in love, I guess."
"I'm glad."
"So what happens next?" she queried lazily.
Remus sighed. "We appear for the public. Fend off the Rita Skeeters of the world. Try to avoid trashy tabloids like Magic Mag — "
"Seriously," she said, grinning. "Wait, I know what happens next."
"What's that?"
"We go out and feed the chickens."
Remus kissed the tip of her nose briefly and led her out by the hand. "Molly would have our heads if we forgot."
By then, the chickens were clucking frantically for some food. Tonks and Remus worked in companionable silence, enjoying the peace of the night. It was hard to think that just hours before, Dumbledore…
Tonks shook her head, closing her eyes against the stab of pain. She couldn't dwell on that now, not when she was finally so happy.
Still, she reflected, it's nice to consider that he'd be overjoyed if he was still with us.
She bent over to pick up a bucket of water and caught sight of her reflection. It was still brown and boring and depressed.
Now, this won't do at all.
Closing her eyes, scrunching her nose, hoping against hope…
Tonks opened her eyes and let out a shout of victory. Reflected hazel eyes glimmered at her from beneath a cap of shocking pink hair.
A/N: Ahh, the moment we've all been waiting for. I hope you're all happy…so happy that you won't even criticize the corniness! I jest, I jest. I'd just like to take this opportunity to thank my reviewers, each and every one of you, for your continued support of a tired old story. Merci bien!