“If I’d pointed out all those times when I thought Padfoot was wrong, would that have put you off him, Prongs?” he asked the empty air. “If I’d told you my suspicions, would you have made someone else Secret-Keeper? If you had, then you’d still be alive.”
When Harry didn’t appear straight away and he saw Hermione (looking slightly bemused, it had to be said) leave Hogwarts with the Patil twins and Lavender Brown, Remus walked to across to his desk and pulled out an old set of Gobstones. It wasn’t much fun playing alone, but Remus couldn’t settle down to marking “ not today and at least Gobstones kept his mind from drifting to Tonks.
Tonks had written to him the next day, sending him a letter by owl to thank him for being kind. It had been a polite letter, where she’d apologised for being an embarrassment and had informed him that she was soon to sit her final exams. Remus had been heartened to hear that, because he’ been afraid that after they’d met she’d do something stupid like drop out of her course. But she sounded resolute in this letter, and hardened.
“Why did you return to Hogwarts, Black?” he said. “You could have just escaped and lived abroad. You won’t get to Harry and your presence here nearly defeated the one person who believed in you.”
He clutched at a Gobstone. It was a set his father had bought him for his twelfth birthday “ his first birthday at Hogwarts “ and Remus could still remember the excitement when he’d unwrapped the package. They’d sat in their dormitory all day, and, for once, Remus had been better than the others had at something. James, he remembered, had affected boredom after he’d lost three games in a row, but Sirius had become competitive. Peter ... he couldn’t remember what Peter had done that day. Frowning, he even wondered if Peter had been there. He didn’t want to forget any of his dead friends and he treasured all the memories ... but Peter, he felt ashamed of this, he often overlooked Peter.
The Gobstone exploded in his hand, so Remus hurriedly wiped the foul smelling liquid off with a flannel by the washstand. He should be writing back to Tonks, concentrating on the present, not trying to work out where people were twenty-one years before.
He sat at his desk, pulled out his grey-feathered quill and began to write.
Dear Tonks,
Thank you for your letter.
Merlin, how dull was he? This was like the letters he used to receive from his Aunt Lucille. He gnawed at his bottom lip, considering. Then he screwed up the paper and began again.
Dear Tonks - another pause.
There's no need for you to apologise and you certainly weren’t an embarrassment. I’m pleased your studying is going well and I know you’ll make a wonderful Auror.
‘Oh, bloody hell, Moony, is that really what you want to say to the girl -- that you’re pleased her studies are going well?’ Remus jerked up. The voice in his head had sounded so much like Padfoot at that point, that it was as if he were in the room. He looked at the letter and tore it up. What did he want to say? He closed his eyes. He wanted to ask her back here. He wanted another fight with cushions and this time when he kissed her he wouldn’t pull away, but indulge himself in the taste of her lips and the scent of her skin.
Would it be so wrong? Here at Hogwarts he had full employment and access to Wolfsbane. Perhaps he could be the one to break the strange jinx on this particular post, and if not, he wondered if Albus would be prepared to offer him something else. Tonks didn’t see the age difference as a bar, so why should he?
He picked up the quill again and dipped it in the ink, preparing to invite her here, perhaps to see the Quidditch final. He could introduce her to Harry; she’d like that.
“LUPIN!” Snape’s voice bellowed from his fire grate.
Oh, gods, what now? Remus sighed. He’d tried his hardest with Severus, but the Potions master would not meet him half way. He strongly suspected that Neville’s Boggart had put paid to any chance they’d ever be ... well, not friends exactly, but civil colleagues. Remember the Wolfsbane, remember the Wolfsbane, he thought as he stepped into the fire.
He should not have been surprised to see Harry in Severus’ office. There wasn’t anyone in Hogwarts who induced that amount of ire. Remus tried to smile as he spiralled through the fire, but as soon as he landed Severus thrust a wad of paper into his hand.
Bloody hell! It’s the Map. He felt like smiling, and then, as he read the words that had magically appeared on the parchment, he had an insane urge to giggle at Wormtail’s answer. One quick glance at Harry’s face brought him back, fully focused on the problem in hand.
He looked directly at Severus, his brain whirring, and heard himself talk about joke shops and Zonko’s. He knew Severus wasn’t fooled, but he had to stop Harry from learning the truth. If he found out James had helped create the Marauders’ Map, then he’d no doubt demand it back, and then he’d never be safe. If he saw Black on the Map, he would run towards the danger, desperate to take on the man who’d betrayed his parents. That’s my job, Remus thought bitterly.
He’d never been so pleased to see Ron Weasley in all his life. Out of breath, with windswept hair, it was clear he’d run all the way from Hogwarts. At last, Remus fully understood. Harry hadn’t just been caught with the Map-- he’d been in Hogsmeade, no doubt with James’ Cloak. Suddenly angry, as he remembered the sacrifice of his friends to keep their son safe, he spoke in a harsher tone than he meant to. He saw Harry’s face fall as he swept away and knew the words about James and Lily had hit home.
Letting himself back into his office, he hurriedly locked the door, and then opened up the map at his desk.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” Remus intoned. For a brief second he thought that the magic from the map had faded, but then it sprang into life.
“Mr Prongs wonders where Mr Moony has been all these years,” he read and began laughing.
“Mr Wormtail would like to congratulate Mr Moony on recovering the Map.”
Oh, gods, this brought it all back. The four of them, invincible, roaming the castle for no reason except that they could. His eyes were drawn to two dots walking slowly back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry and Ron, it seemed, had stopped to talk to a third dot “ Hermione Granger. Remus wondered what they were saying, whether they were continuing this argument with her. The dots were still and then suddenly the Hermione dot was moving close to the Ron dot. She’s either slapped him, or hugged him, Remus thought. I suppose I’ll find out at supper.
As he folded up the map, more words appeared.
“Mr Padfoot wonders how on earth Mr Moony managed to recover the map without his friends.”
Remus looked at the sheet of parchment on his desk. He would write to Tonks, but not invite her here. Black would return and he couldn’t afford to be distracted.
“Mischief Managed,” he said grimly.
Hogwarts didn’t come to a standstill in June, but the pace certainly slackened for Remus. The exams he’d set were over and whilst the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T students were sitting their exams, he found he had a lot more free time. With Charity keeping her distance, Remus toyed again with the idea of inviting Tonks for a visit, or perhaps Apparating down to London to take her out.
“You’re a fool, Moony,” he muttered one morning after a particularly restless night. “You’re too old for her.” But he found his thoughts at breakfast were straying to her smile and that laugh as the feathers had cascaded over her.
“Something amusing you, Remus?” asked Filius who had hurried to the table. The Ravenclaw Head of House looked unusually harassed and despite his distraction, Remus was curious.
“Not much, Filius,” he replied. He picked up the toast rack and offered it to the Charms teacher. “How are you this morning?”
Filius selected some toast and then began to spread it with butter. Reaching across for some marmalade, he jogged the teapot with his arm. Hastily, Remus steadied it before the scalding liquid flooded the table.
“Merlin’s beard!” exclaimed the Charms teacher. “Thank goodness you were here, Remus. I’m all thumbs today.”
“Mmm.” Remus nodded. “I have noticed. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Filius sighed. “Not really. I’m always like this at the end of the year. I feel so anxious for my students. They’re under so much pressure to do well.”
“I would have thought Ravenclaw had very little to prove,” Remus said in surprise. “I mean, you’re all very bright, aren’t you?”
Filius chewed his toast, and deliberated before replying. “We’re selected for our intelligence, that’s true, but, don’t you see, that’s where the pressure lies. Ravenclaws are supposed to do well. Not like you Gryffindors.”
“Well, if it’s any comfort, I think your House will do very well in Defence,” Remus stated solemnly. “Penelope Clearwater’s homework was always exemplary.”
Filius beamed. “Yes, Penelope is one of my highest hopes.” He lowered his voice. “I was awfully afraid she’d get distracted by the Weasley boy, but I’m pleased my fears were misplaced.” He chuckled. “If it had been Percy’s older brother, then I would have had trouble.”
“Who, Charlie?” asked Remus wondering suddenly and with a pang if Charlie Weasley had distracted Tonks.
“Oh, you know Charlie, then,” Filius replied. As Remus nodded, he continued, “I meant Bill, actually. Former Head Boy and now a Curse Breaker for Gringotts.” He paused. “Charlie was more interested in Quidditch, from what I recall. Not bad at Charms, but not a patch on his brothers.”
Remus smiled, wondering if Charlie felt he always had to compete. He’d seemed very sure of himself in Romania “ perhaps he just needed to find his niche. “It’s a good job he found his dragons then,” he said. “That’s how I know Charlie, you know. I was working with him. He told me it was Hagrid who sparked his interest.”
Filius nodded in agreement and then sighed. Remus knew what he was thinking about: Hagrid had not appeared for any meals this week and was spending every spare moment he had with his Hippogriff.
“Do they have an execution date for Buckbeak?” he asked quietly.
Filius sighed again and put down his toast. “The Executioner is arriving with the Minister tomorrow afternoon.”
Remus blinked. “Fudge is coming here? I wouldn’t have thought he’d bother with this case.”
Filius pursed his lips. “I’ve known Cornelius Fudge for a long time. The man is incapable of not interfering. Besides, I think he needs to talk to Albus about the Black situation.”
Remus rose from the table. “I think I’ll make myself scarce then. Fudge wasn’t exactly happy when I was appointed.”
Filius reached out a hand and touched him on the arm. “You’re proving them all wrong, Remus. I hope you know how highly we hold you in regard.”
For a moment, Remus felt a lump in his throat. Unable to speak, he simply smiled at the older man, and then falteringly made his way to his office.
Tomorrow, Buckbeak would be executed. If Remus had learnt one thing about Harry in his year here, it was that he was unfailingly loyal “ all three were. They would use the Cloak to visit their friend and that’s when Harry would be vulnerable. There was a knock at the door, but before Remus could cry ‘Enter’, Severus walked in. Is he hoping to catch me out? thought Remus, smiling.
“Your potion,” Snape simply stated. His eyes scanned the desk, and Remus was pleased that the Map was in the drawer. “Let me know if you require more.”
“Thank you,” Remus replied. He paused. “Severus, I really do appreciate this, you know. I realise I’m very lucky to have a colleague with your talent here at Hogwarts.”
Severus stared at him. “Dumbledore has requested my services. Who am I to disagree with him?”
“But given our history, Severus, I wouldn’t blame you if you’d tampered with the Potion, yet you haven’t “ ever “ and for that I’m grateful.”
The Potions Master pursed his lips and then turning around, he walked to the door. His hand was on the handle when he spoke. “I am not in the habit of playing pranks, Lupin,” he said acidly. “I never was.”
Remus spent most of the following afternoon in his office, studying the Map. Logically he knew that Harry would not skip lessons to see Hagrid -- he was too conspicuous to be able to absent himself “ but still he could not help checking the Harry named dot. He skipped dinner, not wanting to be away from the Map, but watched as Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the Great Hall. Then, sure enough, he saw the three dots move not to Gryffindor Tower but to and empty chamber off the Entrance Hall. Remus grimaced- it was the same place James, Sirius and Peter had used to hide in before they joined him in the Shack. He pondered whether he should go down and drag them back to their common room, but decided, in the end to keep an eye on them. He needed to keep their trust, not set a wedge between them.
He watched as they hurried down the path to Hagrid’s hut but there the Map ended. All Remus could do now was wait. It wouldn’t be long before they left. Remus saw Fudge, Macnair and Albus trek down the path, and he shivered because he knew it meant Buckbeak’s death and he mourned for Hagrid.
And sure enough, the three friends reappeared onto the Map ... except ... there were now four of them. Remus stared intently. A fourth dot, close to Ron, was with them. What he saw made his heart stop.
This can’t be true. The Map must be lying.
He rubbed at his eyes.
It can’t lie.
“Bloody hell!”
This couldn’t be the case ... but the Map, it did not ... no ... could not be wrong. In shock, Remus watched as another dot loomed towards the four of them and appeared to land on Ron and ... Peter Pettigrew.
“Sirius!” he yelled. “Oh, sweet Merlin, Padfoot. Don’t!”
Swiftly, Remus rushed from the room. He ran faster than he could ever remember running from his office and down the path to the Whomping Willow. The tree was waving its branches furiously; Remus knew this was because of the previous intruders.
“Immoblius!” he called and the tree stilled its branches.
It had been years since he’d been in this tunnel. Years since Madam Pomfrey had led him, for the last time, to the hell of the Shrieking Shack. Of course, his last two years here had not been hell. His friends had been there and he hadn’t had to suffer alone with a mind that wasn’t his own. Crouching low, he hurried along towards the Shack, his thoughts racing ahead of him.
He’s dead, we all saw ... and yet ... A sudden memory of Peter hiding a magazine behind his back and assuming an innocent expression when Professor McGonagall had asked what was distracting him. She’d paused and then carried on “ believing him ... and after that the others had relied on that vacant air that he could portray so well.
Sirius and Peter, he thought. Padfoot and Wormtail “ both alive. Oh, bloody hell, was I wrong?
The tunnel path twisted sharply. Ahead he could see the opening that led into the Shack.
Was she right?
He burst, finally, into the room, and cried out a disarming spell to his friend’s son, as Remus took in the scene. Ron, white-faced was lying on the old four-poster bed, his leg mangled by either Padfoot or the tree. Harry shot a look of fury at Remus, and Hermione looked horrified, but now was not the time to placate them.
Remus looked at the one person he’d wanted to see in twelve years. Before tonight, he’d wanted to ask ‘why’ but now he just wanted to know ‘how’. For there was his friend, his comrade “ the boy who’d never made him feel as if he were worthless. For whilst James had always tried to laugh and joke him out of his moods, and Peter had always sympathised, it had been Sirius who had sat with him, often not talking, but just being there in the hospital wing when he’d been suffering. Primarily James friend, James twin “ even, but Sirius “ Padfoot “ had been Remus’ friend too, and his source of support.
He shook his head, trying to make sense of his muddled thoughts.
Peter was here in the Shack. He was Wormtail and was not dead as had been believed. So ... if Peter was not dead ... then Sirius had not killed him.
“Where is he, Sirius?” **
Sirius pointed to Ron.
Remus could hear himself talking, muttering his thoughts aloud, and never taking his eyes off the pitifully gaunt face of his former friend. They switched. Of course!
So many things he needed to say, but really, the most important was that standing in front of him was his friend ... and he should never have doubted his loyalty. Little caring what Harry thought, he walked over to Sirius and hugged him tight. He felt the very bones of the man and could have wept.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should have known.”
He felt rather than saw the moonlight and then Remus knew it was too late. He’d thought he’d be back in time to take the Wolfsbane, little realising that it was already moonrise. If Snape hadn’t appeared and if Ron hadn’t broken his leg, then he would have been in time to take the final dose. If Buckbeak hadn’t been executed today, then Harry would not have been out in the grounds. So many ifs. So many possibilities and paths they could have taken, but in the end, it came down to one thing: he’d not drunk his Potion tonight and now he was transforming.
Remus went rigid and then began to shake, his eyes transfixed on the moonlight. He could feel his limbs lengthening, the pain ripping into his gut. “NO!” he tried to scream, trying hard to hold back the wolf inside, but it was futile, and instead of words, he let out a howl.
Padfoot snarled as he pinned him to the ground. Remus wanted to tell his friend that it wasn’t the same because the Wolfsbane had left him with some semblance of himself, but as Padfoot held him down, the wolf emerged. They bit and clawed at each other. The two of them used to be evenly matched, but Sirius was weak from twelve years in Azkaban.
Remus heard the bang of a curse and Hermione scream. Incensed by the scent of human blood, the wolf needed to attack, but Remus with monumental effort wrenched his mind into focus. He swiped at Padfoot and pounded off into the Forbidden Forest, putting safe distance between them all.
He could do nothing until sunrise.
The first rays of the morning sun hit him in the Shrieking Shack. Some instinct had forced him here, and he thanked Merlin that the Wolfsbane he’d taken on the previous nights had somehow kept a remnant of his mind intact. It was never quite as painful transforming back into a man again, but he still shuddered as his limbs contracted. A breeze fluttering through a broken window reminded him that he was naked. Blearily, he looked around and then smiled-- Severus had left the Cloak by the door.
Swinging the Cloak over his shoulders, he suddenly laughed. “He’s INNOCENT!” he shouted joyously to the empty room. “Sirius Black is a free man.”
Buoyed up with hope and utter joy, he ran along the tunnel to the Whomping Willow entrance. Everything was going to be better now, Sirius was innocent and ... Merlin, he could not wait to see Tonks’ face. He hoped she would shout ‘I told you so’ from the roof of the Ministry building, and smile that wonderful, wide, heartbreaking smile. He wondered where Sirius was now, perhaps in the hospital wing, or maybe Albus had let him sleep in Remus’ quarters. Perhaps he’d invite her today to meet him again, if Sirius was ready.
He pressed at the knot in the side of the tree and waited for the branches to stop. He heaved himself through the tree roots and scanned the grass in front of him. He’d dropped his wand last night. He remembered that much ... and Peter ... dear God - Remus clenched his fists - Peter had transformed and run off. In the grass, he saw his wand, but as he bent to pick it up, he noticed a trail of blood leading from the tree to the lake.
“Merlin,” he muttered in horror, “did I bite someone? Surely I’d remember?”
But the events were unclear in his mind. He had snapshots flashing through his brain. Padfoot holding him down, his wand spinning in the air, Hermione screaming ... Hermione screaming. He began to shake. What if he’d killed her, or worse, turned that brilliant girl into a savage like him?
He sprinted back to the castle and up the stairs to the Hospital wing. The door was locked but from outside he could hear the voices of Harry, Ron and -- thank Merlin --Hermione. They were laughing and he felt relief wash over him. He hadn’t harmed them.
But he could have.
Back in his quarters after checking to see if Sirius was there, he washed and clothed himself with a leaden heart. He looked around his rooms and sighed as he remembered the chats with Harry, the extra Patronus lessons, tea by the fireside with Charity and feathers cascading over a laughing girl. It was all a blur of happy memories that would not be repeated.
Remus walked quickly to Albus’ office. There was little point delaying this, but still he hesitated as he lifted his hand to knock on the door.
“Enter,” commanded Albus. Remus walked in to see his mentor and friend looking at him with the utmost sincerity and a hint of sadness.
“Where’s Sirius?” Remus asked as he sat down.
Albus sighed and then began to explain the night’s events. He listened in silence, only uttering the occasional exclamation when Albus talked about the Dementors trying to administer the Kiss, and then Harry’s Patronus charging down the pack.
“You taught him well, Remus,” Albus said and then he placed his hands together fingertip “to-fingertip and waited for Remus to speak.
“I should have told you he was an Animagus, I know,” Remus said at last. “I have let you down, Headmaster.”
“I am not at all sure what difference it would have made to last night’s events, Remus,” Albus replied, “although if Sirius had told me everything from the start, then he would not have been imprisoned.” Remus looked up startled. “I visited him in Azkaban several times during that first year “ but he would not speak to me. I believe the shock of James’ death and Peter’s betrayal drove everything from his mind, and he believed it was his fault.”
“I tried to see him,” Remus stated bleakly, “but the Ministry wouldn’t give me a pass. He might have talked to me.” He paused. “Headmaster ... Albus ... I’ve come here to hand in my resignation. After last night I cannot stay.”
Albus leant forwards. “Remus, I do not wish you to leave, and you have my unquestioning support.” He paused. “You are an exceptional teacher.”
“But I can’t stay ... not now,” Remus replied. He noticed that Albus had not demurred. And then he voiced his deepest fear. “This morning, when I ...” he coughed “... became human again, I could remember Hermione screaming. I was terrified that I’d maimed or killed someone. I can’t afford for that to happen again.” Albus opened his mouth to speak, but Remus raised a hand. “I know the circumstances last night were unusual, but I think it proved that when I’m near the people I most want to protect, my reason flies out of the window.”
“I would have fought for you,” Albus said at last.
Remus stood up. “I would not have let you, Albus. I’m not that important.”
As he wandered down the stairs, looking around the corridors, wondering whether to take a last look at the grounds before he started packing, Remus heard the sound of a woman arguing. It was Charity.
“How could you?” she yelled at the stern figure of Severus Snape. “You know what will happen to him. He’ll be sacked at the very least.”
“That is not my concern,” Severus replied coldly. He turned away from her, but as he did so he saw Remus approaching. Charity looked up.
“Remus,” she said. “I “I’m so sorry. Look, if there’s anything I can do.”
Remus walked down the stairs and looked into her eyes. “What is the matter, Charity?”
She swallowed. “H-he’s told them ... told them all what you are, Remus.” She took his hand in hers. “Dumbledore won’t sack you, I’m sure.”
Remus smiled ruefully and squeezed her hand. Then he looked at Severus. “There really was no need to tell them all, Severus. I know my position here is untenable, so I’ve handed in my resignation.” He released his hand from Charity’s and held it out to him. “Thank you for the Wolfsbane.”
But Snape refused his hand and walked towards the dungeons.
“Why did you do that?” Charity asked in exasperation. “He’s ruined you, Remus. You could have stayed here if it wasn’t for him telling the Slytherins that you’re a werewolf.” She tried not to gag on the word and Remus was reminded painfully of Ron Weasley’s revulsion the night before.
“Oh, Charity,” he said sighing. “It would have come out sooner or later. This way I can leave without my students fearing me.”
She sniffed loudly and he suspected she was holding back tears. “What will you do?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Perhaps I’ll return to Romania for a while. I was happy there.” He paused. “But first I have to speak to someone in London.”
It had been, thought Tonks, a particularly bloody awful week.
Her final Auror exams may have been over, but she’d been distracted by the case of Hagrid’s Hippogriff. Charlie had been pestering her for news and she’d been loath to tell him the date of execution.
“Sorry, Charlie,” she muttered. “There wasn’t a bloody thing I could do about it.”
She could hear Proudfoot talking to Dawlish in the corner.
“It isn’t funny, Jacob,” Dawlish was saying. “The Minister was very upset that the beast escaped. It had hurt Lucius Malfoy’s son after all.”
“So what,” laughed Proudfoot. “We all know Fudge is a tosser. I just think it’s funny that the animal escaped right under his nose.”
Tonks looked up. “What was that?”
Both men glanced at her, and then Proudfoot spoke, “Hagrid’s Hippogriff, Nymphadora. It escaped last night and no one knows how.” He laughed. “They should ask that sodding werewolf a few questions. He probably killed it and shared it with Black.”
She stood up. “W-what are you talking about?”
“He’s talking about me,” said a voice from the doorway. Tonks whipped her head around. She recognised the speaker, but still felt a start of surprise shoot though her heart. Remus was walking into the room. He stopped in front of Tonks’ desk. “May I take you out for a late lunch? I need to talk to you, and ...” He paused, looked directly at Proudfoot and with a wink continued, “I need to eat far more than a Hippogriff to keep my strength up.”
Tonks stood up. “You don’t have to,” she whispered. “I’m quite prepared for the worst about him, now. I don’t need lunch to sugar coat the news.”
Remus smiled. “You won’t need any sugar,” he murmured as he led her through the door.
In the end, because it was a hot day, he bought them both some sandwiches and they walked to Hyde Park. Sitting by the Serpentine, he watched in amusement as she took off her shoes and dangled her feet in the water.
“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” she said at last. “I know Sirius was at Hogwarts last night. And I take it he hasn’t been caught, or we’d have been told.”
Remus grinned. “You’re right,” he replied. “You’re always right, Nymphadora.” He ducked to avoid the blow she aimed at his head. “Your reckless, brave and foolhardy cousin escaped on Buckbeak last night.” He laughed. “I don’t know all the details... but I do know this. Sirius is innocent, Tonks.”
“Wh-what?” she stuttered. “Remus, if this is a joke, it’s not bloody funny.” Her eyes flashed and she stood up. Remus grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the grass. She fell awkwardly into him, and he winced as the ravages of the night before began to flare up.
“I’m not joking. Sirius didn’t betray them, Tonks. He didn’t kill Peter ... or those twelve Muggles. He wasn’t a traitor, and--” He looked down at her hand, noting a small scar on her finger. “The rat that bit you ... was it Scabbers?”
Puzzled, she nodded. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Remus gazed at the perfect, cloudless sky. “I should have known. You told me you couldn’t hide this scar, didn’t you?” She nodded. “Scabbers wasn’t an ordinary rat. He was an Animagus.” He paused and saw her eyes widen.
“Who was he?” she whispered, and he could hear hope breaking into her voice.
“Scabbers was Peter Pettigrew. And it was Peter who betrayed the Potters. He blasted twelve Muggles to their deaths, cursed off his finger and then transformed into a rat. ”He stopped and began to laugh. “They became Animagi in my fifth year. Peter was a rat “ Wormtail; James was a stag “ Prongs; and Sirius...”
“He was a dog!” she shouted and then laughed as the people around them glared. She grinned and lowered her voice. “A big black dog, wasn’t he?”
Remus nodded.”You knew, didn’t you? You asked me the question about nicknames and I didn’t think you were convinced at the time. Had he told you?”
“No,” Tonks replied. “I saw him -- that day I staked out his old flat with Mad-Eye -- I saw a dog. He had huge feet, but walked so stealthily ...” Her laughter bubbled over and her eyes sparkled as the news sank in. Her hair seemed to brighten although he knew she was keeping it under control. “Where is he?” she breathed.
Remus gazed at her, at the happiness that was seeping back into her face. Her spirit, which he’d thought wounded, was healing and although he marvelled at her joy, there was a part of him “ a small petty-minded part “ that disliked the fact that it was Sirius and not he who had brought her back to life.
“I don’t know,” he started to say, but was cut off as she flung her arms around him. The force sent him sprawling and together they rolled down the bank, landing in the river.
“He’s innocent,” she shouted to the sky as the water splashed around them.
Sitting in the shallows of the Serpentine, Remus laughed at her utter joy. She turned her face towards his and leant forward as if to kiss him. And he wanted to kiss her “ Merlin he wanted to “ but as she squeezed his arm, her hand caused a spasm of pain to rack though his body. He winced and she dropped her hand.
“Sorry,” she said gruffly and started to move towards the bank.
Remus closed his eyes trying to banish the memory of Tonks, four years ago, applying salve to his wounds. He was wrong for her then and wrong for her now. Last night proved he was a danger and he would not ruin her life.