Disclaimer: With humble gratitude to J. K. Rowling for allowing me to build castles in her sandbox once more.
Four
Remus: Seeking Forgiveness
Remembering the twisted trail Alastor had led him through, Dumbledore couldn’t resist commenting, “I’m surprised you accepted the premise of carrying on a conversation with a photograph so readily.”
Remus issued a mirthless laugh. “What? You wonder whether I have enough sense to doubt my own sanity?” His eyes gleamed with near feral intensity as he elaborated in a quiet voice, “Doubting myself has become part of my daily routine; but I’ve concluded that it’s the world around me that’s insane. Is that the way a madman would see it?”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “I’m afraid so.”
Remus shrugged his gaunt shoulders with exaggerated nonchalance. “What’s another added burden to bear?”
“What of a Death Eater plot? Have you considered that?”
Remus gave him a keen, appraising look. “It’s always best to let your enemies overestimate your frailties.”
It was typical understatement; Dumbledore instantly recognized it as such. He wouldn’t have been drawn to the scene if Remus hadn’t been drowning in a cauldron of despair. Yet there was a kernel of truth to it as well.
“You can’t very well shoot ropes at me from a gilded cardboard frame,” Remus elaborated as the first hint of grey eased its fingers over the surrounding rooflines. “And I doubt there’d be an ambush waiting for me in the midst of a Muggle tube station.”
“What about at the Tonks residence?” Dumbledore goaded.
“If I find the house surrounded, I’ll be able to lend my assistance from outside their perimeter.” Neither man mentioned that in Remus’ weakened condition, casting a simple Alohamora would likely bring him to his knees.
“You envision yourself arriving just in the knick of time.”
“I’m trying to envision they want me back at all,” Remus emphasized grimly. “But it’s a moot point anyway.”
Intrigued by the way the man’s mind worked, Dumbledore urged, “Why is that?”
“I’m not important enough for the Death Eaters to expend a number of hours just to bring me in,” Remus replied with aplomb. “Not when a well-placed curse could’ve left my lifeless body in an anonymous alley.”
“Efficiency supersedes compassion.”
“I expect it to be emblazoned around the golden fountain in the Ministry Atrium any day now.”
Recognizing some of the landmarks, Dumbledore directed, “Turn right at the next street corner. There’s an Underground station two blocks beyond that.”
“Frankly, I’m surprised you know so much about Muggle mass transit.”
“Like many young boys, I had a fascination with trains. The Hogwarts Express didn’t run regularly enough to suit me, but in the belly of the beast--”
“Did you imagine the Underground as the intestines of some formidable and exotic creature?”
“I’m afraid I didn’t share your imaginative view of the world, Remus. No, not even as a lad. But I liked the pent up power of the trains, hurdling into the dark tunnels without a wizard’s hand to guide them. They became a thrill ride for a lad of very modest means.”
“And the scar on your knee?”
Dumbledore smiled beatifically. “Fate intercedes in the most remarkable ways, doesn’t it? I fall from the branches of a neighbor’s tree and my scar forms an indelible map of sorts. Very handy as Aberforth and I used to plan our campaigns into enemy territory in exquisite detail before setting forth.” With a playful lilt, he added, “We had to, you see, to get the maximum ride for the fewest farthings.”
“At what point did you learn to Confund the ticket machine?” Remus frowned at the implacable metal contraption before him.
“Ah,” Dumbledore dodged, “it was a ticket taker then. A rather wily Muggle, as often as not.”
“You must have found that an even greater challenge.”
“Such is the untamed enthusiasm of youth.”
Remus stepped aside to allow a solitary man to feed a Muggle bill into the mechanical slot. He noticed there was a separate pocket for Euro coins.
“Have you any coins at all?” Dumbledore whispered.
“Not Muggle ones.”
“Something we could transfigure?” Cutting Remus’ rebuff short, he added, “You can always return with the proper fare later; donation boxes are available at every stop.”
Remus dug through the pockets of his dusty suit coat to no avail. Noticing a group of middle-aged ladies approaching, he slung the jacket over his arm to reveal a wrinkled, but relatively clean, shirt. From his trouser pocket, he extracted two copper knuts which shone dismally under the weak overhead bulb.
Once the others had passed, Dumbledore talked him through the spell. It was all Remus could do to keep his knees from buckling as he steadied himself against the ticket machine. The whirling mechanisms accepted the coins hungrily but did not disgorge his prize. Instead, the lights flashed red in anger.
“Long shift?” a white-haired matron issued at his elbow, making Remus start involuntarily.
Recovering quickly, he favored her with his trademark self-effacing smile. “Endless,” he replied.
The woman patted his arm in a grandmotherly fashion. “My late husband worked the graveyard shift during the war,” she supplied with a wistful sigh. “Seems like it was just yesterday.”
“Ruddy machine didn’t like my coins,” Remus remarked in an off-handed manner as he made to slap it with his open palm.
The woman chortled. “They’ve just upped the fare on us, again. How much did you add?”
Remus bit his tongue and lied, “Two Euros.”
Understanding from his tone that he had no more, she added a five pound note of her own and extracted two tickets. Gathering the few coins in change, she handed one of the tickets to Remus.
“Same thing happened to me last week. If my friend, Grace, hadn’t happened along I dare say I would’ve had to hobble home. I trust you to help out the next chap who finds himself in similar straits.”
“I’ll consider it my sacred duty,” Remus intoned with a slight nod.
“And such courtly manners,” she crooned as he assisted her with the turnstile. “If I was forty years younger…”
Remus laughed as he glanced self-consciously at the gold wedding band around his finger.
“You have a family, of course.”
“A wife,” Remus allowed, seeing no reason to hide the fact.
A fortyish woman in a smart business suit drew near. “Morning, Greta. See you’re off to the markets extra early today.”
“Bargain hunting,” Greta replied as she hefted her empty cloth sack for emphasis.
“The early worm syndrome,” the other woman concurred. “Did you find yourself an able apprentice this time?” She held her hand out to Remus, “I’m Martha, by the way.”
He barely hesitated before returning, “Ronnie Smythe.”
“Ronnie, hmmmm?” Martha considered as she checked him out over the rims of her glasses. “Can’t say the name rings a bell…”
Greta chuckled knowingly. “Martha thinks she recognizes everyone. Comes from staring at all those people who come to check out books.”
“You’re a librarian?” Remus smiled.
“Technically,” she allowed. “The British Library prefers that we refer to ourselves as curators.”
“Guardians of the world’s wealth of knowledge,” Remus concurred as he caught a sharp intake of breath from the card in his pocket. He’d need to watch his step as she very likely had seen him amid the hallowed halls of the country’s premier library. Admittance was free, after all.
Martha disembarked at few stops later, but they were joined by another gaggle of ladies en route to early shifts. Dumbledore barely kept himself from chuckling aloud as the women drew Remus out in turn, becoming even more solicitous when he confessed that he was an expectant father. By the time Greta said her goodbyes, Remus had been fortified by a half thermos of tea with milk and honey as well as a thick slice of freshly baked date bread.
Sensing that Remus’ head was drooping from weariness, Dumbledore waited until they were alone before clearing his throat. But before he could remind Remus that his stop was up next, the great wizard felt himself yanked unceremoniously in a different direction. Rather like a hook had caught him about the middle and Portkeyed him into another card, held in another’s hand.
He didn’t have a clear view of his surroundings as his face was still blocked by the mass of chocolate frog that had only just been unwrapped.
“Don’t be eating chocolate before breakfast, dear,” a disembodied voice issued in the distance as a sizable chunk of chocolate was torn away.
A loud bump and the rattle of glass, followed by a voice he recognized as belonging to Nymphadora Tonks groused, “Bugger that! Why does she always rearrange the furniture while I’m asleep?” Raising her voice, she called, “How much longer until breakfast, Mum? Please tell me we don’t have to wait until Dad returns from his run.”
At that moment, Dumbledore heard the sharp knocks.
“Coming!” Andromeda Tonks proclaimed as she hurried towards the front door.
“Don’t just open it!” Tonks cried as her mother hustled past.
Despite the warning, Andromeda took a quick peek around the curtain and cracked the door immediately. “Oh, it can’t be! We’ve been…”
The rest was drowned out as Tonks swore loudly, dropping the spent wrapping and the card atop a credenza in the front hallway. Dashing back up the stairs, her foot reacquainted itself with the grandfather clock on the landing, sending a sharp report through the house.
Sitting herself on the topmost step to massage her injured toe, Tonks turned a stubborn expression to her mother’s worried eyes. “Don’t believe a word he says. It’s just as likely to be a ‘juiced up gigolo than Remus,” she cautioned tersely.
“Dora, dear…” her mother pleaded, only to be caught short once again.
“Save your compassion for an enemy who deserves it!”
“He’s your husband,” Andromeda tried to mollify.
“How can you be so bloody sure?”
With an indulgent sigh, Andromeda turned on her heel and walked back to the front door. Easing the door open, she confronted Remus directly.
“Dora insists we observe strict Ministry protocols,” Andromeda apologized.
Remus’ gauzy form was just visible through the sidelights as he hung his head in resignation. “Ask what you will,” he offered in a meek, muffled tone.
In a voice laced with of compassion, Andromeda replied, “Not good enough, I’m afraid. She wants us to keep watch on you for a full hour in case Polyjuice is involved.”
Remus’ face fell. “You want me to sit in your parlor like this?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“I was hoping to shower off the grime first,” Remus backpedaled.
“In due course,” Andromeda promised. “Certainly before you face a hearty plate of ham and eggs. But in the meanwhile, you’ll just have to trust in my spellwork.”
“Please…”
“It’ll be fine,” Andromeda soothed as she laid a comforting hand on Remus’ shoulder. “I’ve tackled much worse in my time. Dora used to roll in the mud with her bicycle as a child. Arrived at the door looking like she’d dipped herself in chocolate.”
Remus chuckled weakly as he allowed his mother-in-law to perform a few deft Scourgify spells. Once satisfied, she motioned for him to follow her into the otherwise empty foyer.
“I don’t suppose it will hurt if I bring you a change of clothes,” she confided. “Let me just see if Dora agrees.”
She left him to shift anxiously from foot to foot, uncertain of his next move. Like a wraith, Tonks materialized at the end of the short hallway, looking at him with large, accusatory eyes. The dank brown of her hair told Remus all he needed to know.
“Usher Remus into the sitting room, dear,” Andromeda suggested as she gave her daughter a small push in the general direction. Before hustling back into the kitchen, she placed a set of freshly laundered men’s pajamas next to the remains of the chocolate frog.
Looking every inch the Auror despite her pink terry robe and matching slippers, Tonks brought her wand to bear imperiously. “You can change in there,” she ordered with a quick nod of her head. At the last moment, she bundled the chocolate wrappings with one hand while keeping her wand leveled on Remus with the other.
“Aren’t you going to draw the blinds?” Remus stammered as he faced a long bank of windows facing onto the street.
“Might help our monetary situation to sell a few tickets,” she retorted.
Seeing the stern look on her face, Remus refrained from laughing. From her point of view, she was just needling a recently apprehended suspect.
“Nice touch with the modesty bit,” Tonks added as she settled herself comfortably in an armchair. “But as we all know from Harry’s recent rescue, a ‘juiced up wizard feels no shame.”
“Aren’t you afraid the neighbors might see the bright spells ricocheting off the walls when I attack? This is a Muggle neighborhood after all.”
“They’ll just assume I’m watching morning cartoons on the telly. Besides, Mum placed your wand on the kitchen counter, saw it with my own eyes.”
“And if I have a second one up my sleeve?”
“Don’t think so,” she returned with a quick swirl of her wand. “But I’m willing to watch for it, just in case.”
With the weariness of a long, sleepless night weighing upon his shoulders, Remus turned his back to her wand and proceeded to change his clothing. Once finished, he sat down opposite her and motioned towards the unruly pile of discards.
“Don’t you want to Levitate those into the nearest laundry hamper? I’m certain your mum would greatly appreciate the gesture.”
“I’m not foolish enough to take my wand off you.”
With a deep breath to quell his frustration, Remus crossed his long legs and regarded Tonks evenly and openly, inviting her to make the next move whenever she was ready. Hopefully, it would be before his eyelids gave out once and for all; but if not, her intimidating tactics would not keep him from falling asleep on this very sofa.
“Can I get you some juice or coffee, Remus?” Andromeda offered from the doorway as she Summoned the soiled clothes into her arms.
“Nothing until the hour is up,” Tonks interjected.
“Are you suggesting I’m a fellow conspirator and not your mother?” Andromeda returned with a flash of anger.
“I’m really fine,” Remus interceded. “Had a small snack on the train.”
“Train?” Tonks’ eyebrows shot up.
“The Underground,” Remus corrected.
Andromeda returned with a tray holding two glasses of chilled pumpkin juice. With great ceremony, she waited until Tonks took a sip and then handed that glass to Remus to finish. As Tonks made to protest, Andromeda whispered to Remus, “Let me know when she starts to change appearance!”
He knew he should maintain an impassive demeanor, but Remus couldn’t help chuckling at his mother-in-law’s antics. The chuckles worked themselves into laughter until he doubled over with a deep belly laugh. Feeling weak but heartened at the same time, Remus allowed a small smile to play over his lips.
Taking a deep drink of the juice, he began, “Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot this morning. Unexpected guests and all. How have you been for the past few days?”
“Days? Try two weeks!”
Refusing to be flustered, he started anew. “How have you been for the past weeks?”
“Sitting pretty in my bedroom. What do you think?”
“Missing your duties in the Auror Department?”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Tonks warned as she waved her wand at him. “I’m not about to delve into personal matters. Anyone with a scholar’s vocabulary and a gift for gallows humor can imitate your style well enough.”
“You just described Severus Snape,” Remus huffed.
“He goes for the jugular, you just tease.”
“And you just gave a potential enemy a template, you know.”
Tonks gave an arrogant shrug. “Since he’s not getting a chance to deploy it, who cares?”
Remus tried closing his eyes to wait out the hour, but much to his chagrin found that sleep eluded him. Shifting onto his side, he slitted his eyes open. “I can’t be that interesting a specimen to look at. You’ll understand if I close my eyes for a bit.”
“That park bench wasn’t as comfortable as your lumpy bed at Grimmauld Place, was it?”
“You didn’t seem to complain then…” he snapped, then calmed himself before adding, “But this sofa’s much better.”
“You don’t mind if I maintain my surveillance.”
“By all means, but it must seem like watching a beetle slowly suffocate inside a glass jar.”
“You never know what an innocent-looking beetle might have up its sleeve,” Tonks snorted.
“So the beetle in your imagination wears clothing? What an interesting quirk, Dora.”
“That right there demonstrates your innate unpredictability. So watch your step, Lupin.”
“Well, at least we’ve established that,” he sighed.
“Don’t get cocky. It’s too early to come up with any clever put-downs.”
“So my self-serving sense of nobility no longer seems pedantic?”
Taking the bait, she returned sharply, “It’s a swine who throws back words said in anger.”
“You have a long wait ahead of you if you’re expecting me to turn into a pig.”
“Just bear that in mind as you relax into my parents’ sofa, I still have my wand trained on you.”
Opening one eye, he observed wryly, “How could I? I’m being guarded by an unemployed Auror in pink bunny slippers.”
“Watch your mouth! I didn’t make disparaging remarks about the pile of rags you were wearing when you walked in.”
“Is that why I’m wearing your father’s old pajamas?”
“Mum just doesn’t throw anything away,” Tonks dismissed. “Always says our old things are too nice to just toss with the rubbish, but she rarely remembers to donate them to charity, either. Wouldn’t surprise me if she still had all my baby clothes in the attic.”
“That still doesn’t explain why she didn’t just fetch something from my trunk. You do remember the trunk you dropped on my toes as we Levitated it up the stairs? More than once, I might add.”
“I should’ve dropped the ruddy thing on your head!”
“That required more control of the Locomotor Charm than you displayed, my love.”
“If you want to know the truth of it, I still haven’t unpacked your trunk. Don’t give me that look, Lupin! The absolute last thing I need from you is a lecture about my deplorable house-keeping skills. A grown man like you should be perfectly capable of unpacking his own effing trunk.”
“Particularly if I wanted to be able to find where my things had been stored,” he dared.
“There you go again! Besides, I wanted to be ready to chuck the whole thing after you if it came to that.”
“I see. An empty trunk doesn’t really make a very satisfying sound, does it?”
“Hollow like your head, I would guess.”
“You don’t know that. After my hour is up, I might just grow two heads, for all you know.”
“I’d be happy if you just grew a heart,” Tonks grumbled.
Dumbledore’s ears caught the sound of steps approaching the back stoop. Without any conscious thought, he found himself staring out into the kitchen from the pocket of Remus’ discarded shirt.
Andromeda was busying herself with preparing breakfast, doing her best to not listen into the words that rose and fell from the front of the house. The rattle of the back door startled her and she barely avoided spilling muffin batter all over the counter.
“No luck, again,” Ted huffed as he bent low over his knees to regain his breath. “This bloody jogging is going to be the death of me.”
“You have to admit it’s a wonderful cover our Dora thought up,” Andromeda whispered as she handed him a towel to wipe his brow.
“I keep having to wander further and further afield, though. Good thing I have a trusty map of London with all the Apparition points marked.” Ted patted the inside pocket of his windbreaker to emphasize the point.
Andromeda shook her head and placed a finger over her lips to denote silence. “He’s with Dora in the other room.”
Ted’s eyes bulged from his head as he stumbled into the nearest chair. “How?”
Andromeda shrugged. “Just showed up on our doorstep looking like an unkempt vagabond. You would’ve probably caught your trainers on his robes if you’d gone out the front door instead of the back.”
“How’s Dora taking it?”
“It’s too soon to tell. She insisted we wait out the requisite hour for any Polyjuice Potion to wear off.”
“He doesn’t look like himself?” Ted sputtered in confusion.
“She just wants to be sure it isn’t someone else trying to gain her trust. Alastor instilled a good sense of self-preservation in our Dora.”
“Why doesn’t she just ask him questions?”
“Ted, you know how utterly lame those Ministry guidelines are! As she pointed out to his face, any half-wit could impersonate Remus with sardonic and playful responses. He’s just too adept at word games.”
“Yet you let him into our parlor, for Merlin’s sake!”
“I’m not the one who doubts his identity. There’s just so much pain and regret in his face…”
“Can’t Dora see that, too?”
“If she’s honest with herself. But that extra hour comes in handy when you’re trying to decide how to react. You know she’s been pacing the halls most nights.”
“I came back didn’t I?” Remus reiterated in a strained voice, causing Dumbledore to shift his focus once again.
“Only because Harry had the sense to throw a mangy cur like you out on his arse!” Tonks countered.
“Glad to see you’re waking up,” Remus remarked as he stretched his cramped limbs on the sofa.
Tonks jumped to her feet. “You really are the most contrary man, you know. I’m just getting warmed up and you’re ready to shuffle off to dreamland!”
The playfulness slid right off his face as he admitted, “Nightmares, more like. It’s been a number of days since I had a good night’s sleep.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Yours. If you count that little announcement of you being pregnant with my child.”
Tonks’ small fist clenched with pent up frustration. “Did you expect me to keep it a secret for nine months?”
“Of course not,” Remus returned softly. “But in the midst of a war…Dora, what were we thinking?”
“We weren’t thinking at all, that’s the point. I was drunk thinking that you loved me as much as I loved you.”
“More,” he stressed, his eyes burning with intensity.
“Then why did you walk out on me?” she demanded. “Don’t give me that line about your obligation to the Order, either. No one assigned you to be Harry’s bodyguard.”
“That’s just it, Dora. We’re in such disarray that there’s no one to organize anything. Consider it a bit of misplaced initiative on my part.”
“Harry didn’t relish having a middle-aged Marauder tagging along, did he?”
“He didn’t react well to the news of your pregnancy, either,” Remus affirmed. “And I am not middle-aged!”
“Well, one would certainly never think it by your actions,” she sniffed. “How did Harry react?”
Remus sighed. “Like a product of his unhappy childhood, I see now. Said the only place for me at the moment was with my unborn child. Made me feel quite like an extraneous accessory that’s outlived its usefulness.”
Clearing her throat to announce herself, Andromeda interjected, “Excuse me for interfering, but there’s something I’d like to ask Remus.”
Tonks’ brow scowled in displeasure, but Remus’ reaction was more accommodating, “Yes?”
“Do you like children?” Andromeda posed softly.
“Mother, really,” Tonks protested, but a motion from Ted made her back down.
“Seeing as how you’re a guest on our sofa, we just thought we’d like to get to know you a bit better, son,” Ted added. His friendly smile did much to diffuse the suddenly tense atmosphere.
“I’m not sure I follow,” Remus stammered.
“I know it must seem like a bit of a non sequitur,” Andromeda explained gently as she settled herself on a nearby armchair. “But you see, poor Dora’s been noticeably distraught for the past week, blaming herself for something that isn’t solely her fault.”
“Mum, please,” Tonks implored, fidgeting noticeably. “Remus and I discussed these things at length --”
“I’ll answer the question,” Remus volunteered as he glanced quickly at the faces around him. Andromeda’s features softened as his eyes settled on her. “Yes, I like children.”
“I think we all needed to hear you say that,” Ted observed, not moving from his perch in the doorway. “Dora included.”
“Don’t you remember me telling you how much he enjoyed his teaching post at Hogwarts?” Tonks defended.
“I also recall you telling us it was a rather brief tenure,” Andromeda pointed out. “So I have to wonder, Remus: did your regret stem from losing a paying post or being judged unfairly because of your condition? Or was it because you were forced to give up something you dearly loved?”
It was a probing question, but Remus concluded it was allowable under the circumstances. With a deep breath, he admitted hollowly, “All those things. Every single one. It didn’t matter that the post was rumored to be cursed,” he added, effectively cutting off Tonks’ next comment. “I was as heart-broken as if I’d lost a close friend. So to emphasize your point, Andromeda, Ted, I have always liked children. I enjoy working with them and teaching them. I would consider myself lucky to have some of my own someday…” His voice wavered uncertainly.
“But--” Andromeda coaxed.
Remus hung his head as he unconsciously dug his nails into his palms. “Everything is just so ill-timed,” he muttered into his lap. “The war…having to give up our flat…and both of us being out of work. It’s hardly an auspicious beginning,” he summarized as he caught the unspoken emotion shining forth from his wife’s eyes.
“Such things have a timing onto themselves,” Andromeda soothed as she caught one of Remus’ hand between hers. “Who are we to question a gift born of your boundless love?”
“Besides,” Ted remarked with a wry twinkle, “a baby comes with a timetable of its own, make no mistake about it. Looks like this one’s going to be as strong-willed as Dora here.”
At the sound of the kitchen timer that singled sixty minutes had elapsed, Ted wrapped his arm around Andromeda’s shoulder and escorted her from the room.
“We’ll let you know when breakfast is ready,” he called over his shoulder.
Left alone once more, Remus offered humbly, “I’m sorry I panicked. Please forego the comparison to an animal stampede.”
With mock innocence, Tonks returned, “Would I do something like that?”
“With entirely too much relish. I’m trying to form an abject apology here.”
“I think you managed that when you dragged yourself onto the front porch,” Tonks acknowledged with a tender smile.
“Was I that pathetic a sight?”
“You’ll have to ask Mum; it was her heartstrings you melted. I was in the kitchen.”
Remus wisely sidestepped the temptation to tease her about the piece of furniture which had obviously ambushed her on the stairs. “Back to my apology,” he maintained.
“Flowery words make me uncomfortable. You might as well walk across broken glass on your knees.”
“Is that going to be part of my penance?”
“Too clichéd,” Tonks allowed as she wormed her way onto to sofa next to him. “I have something entirely different in mind.”
“After breakfast,” Remus promised into the soft tendrils of her hair.
“And a shower,” she agreed as a huge yawn overtook her. “I can’t seem to get the sleep out of my eyes otherwise.”