"There was something tragic in a friendship so coloured by romance."
(Oscar Wilde, The Picture Of Dorian Grey)
Feeling well was a sensation Tonks had completely forgotten. Only yesterday she had been battling in the darkest depths of the Ministry, and now here she was, sitting asleep in a bed that wasn't hers, waiting for the sunlight to fade completely from her sight and sink down in the horizon.
She was weak and couldn't leave that bed, or so she had been told by the Healers at St Mungo's, who had discharged her against medical advice. It had been Remus who had convinced them to let her go home, promising he would make sure she wouldn't move a single muscle.
With a sigh, she stared down at her naked arms: the white of the bandages would have been almost indiscernible from the paleness of her skin, hadn't it been for the bloody stains soaking them here and there. She lifted a hand to touch the long cut she had on the left side of her face and shuddered slightly as the tips of her fingers came into contact with the thick, tender flesh, where the blood hadn't fully coagulated yet. The Sectumsempra she had been hit with, according to the Healers, would retard considerably the full healing process of the wounds.
She was going to have to spend the next two weeks away from any source of fatigue and stress, and this was the worst news she could have got.
She needed something to do to spend the time away, because her mind was so crammed with thoughts that it ached like hell. The battle, Voldemort's return, and… Sirius.
Sirius dead. How could this be possible?
She bent her legs and took them to her chest, encircling them with her arms. She felt pangs of pain spread from her sore ribs to all the rest of her body, but just decided to ignore it.
She was wearing only a tank top and a pair of old sweatpants, but she felt rather hot, which was weird for a chilly day like this. She was very thirsty, as well, and the dryness in her throat was staring getting painful, so she decided she could attempt a little escape. The silence reigning in number twelve of Grimmauld Place, after all, suggested the house was deserted.
Trying not to pay attention to all the twinges her body was suffering, Tonks collected all her energies and crawled out of the bed. She almost tripped into the blankets, but luckily the nightstand next to her permitted her to find a support to grasp at not to fall. She waited until her balance was somewhere near steady, knees wobbly and jelly-like, her cold feet nicely tickled by the surprising softness of the carpet. Molly had done a great job with the cleaning, indeed.
Her sight was not very clear, a bit blurry, and even her head felt very light, but somehow she managed to toddle through the room to the door. Backing herself to the wall, she grabbed the knob and turned it, pulling the door open. A vague and nasty feeling of sickness rose in her stomach; for a moment she stood motionless, clutching at the doorframe with her eyes screwed for the effort of keeping herself standing. In the darkness of her mind, she saw Bellatrix glower at her with that crazy light in her eyes, that piercing hate painted on her face. She could remember very vividly the violence of the spell her aunt had addressed to her, the flash of white light she had seen before everything turned black and silent. What had happened later – Sirius falling behind that Veil – was only a story she had heard from several people, with so many different beginnings, but always the same, terrible ending. Sirius had died. In her place.
She felt her legs give in. The world around her started spinning, she lost her sense of space, and all she knew was that she couldn't control her movements anymore.
There was a muffled crashing noise coming from somewhere nearby, then she felt something delicate but strong grip her and keep her up.
"Tonks!" exclaimed a voice. It was gentle, but slightly hoarse, very close to her face. "What the hell were you thinking?"
Tonks didn't even try to speak. She slid her arms around Remus' neck and let him walk her back to the bed. He had a nice scent, musk-like, as though he had just come out of the shower.
He carefully led her down onto the mattress; she felt like a puppet without a will. She yieldingly let him tuck her in, then he sat down beside her. She looked up at him hesitatingly, cringing when she met his scolding glare.
"Sorry." She mewled, her voice hardly a whisper. Remus' features immediately relaxed into an indulgent smile, one of his sweetest, and yet there was some blue undertone to it, a hue of melancholy in his amber eyes that she didn't need to wonder about.
Sirius. She knew Remus had reservations, as well, as to who, apart from Bellatrix, was truly to blame for the death of the last Black.
His old, darned jumper seemed to drape more loosely on his frame, and Tonks wondered if he'd always been so thin, or it was just the grief making him look so miserable. Remus scrutinised her intently, the fingers of the hand he'd laid next to her leg fiddling absently with the soft quilt.
"What do I have to do with you?" he said, tilting his head to one side.
"I was thirsty."
"I was carrying you a cup of tea," Remus said. "But I'm afraid I let it fall instead of you."
Tonks blushed, or so she thought, but it was hard to say, since her whole body felt like on fire.
"Thought you'd gone out or something," she mumbled. "This place is so silent without –"
She faced down, biting her tongue. She didn't feel like talking about Sirius, now, and by his look, she was quite sure Remus wasn't either.
"You should be resting," he told her flatly, staring down at his lap. When he lifted his look again, he was sporting what Tonks assumed was meant to be a light-hearted smile. "I promised not to tell your parents about this," He eyed her significantly. "But you promised to stay quiet."
He looked tired, probably even more than her, at least on the inside, and she felt guilty for being such a burden for him, especially in a moment like this. Sirius had been his family in the last two years, and she could understand his discomfort.
She sank into the huge pillow and rolled her pulsing head to the other side, towards the window. Outside, the light was getting dimmer and dimmer.
"I'm sorry."
She swallowed hard, her regret hurting down her throat, her reflection in the glass telling her she was extremely lucky she got out of the battle with solely those cuts and a few bruises. But deep inside, where her heart was beating, she knew there were deeper wounds than those, and if the visible ones were going to heal or turn into scars, sooner or later, the inner ones were destined to bleed forever.
She winced when she felt the pressure of Remus' hand upon hers, the warmth and the mild roughness of it stroking her skin soothingly. For a moment, inexplicably, it was like every problem had been erased from the world.
"It was not your fault, Nymphadora." Whispered Remus, so candidly that she almost believed him.
His voice was like a medicine to her, like a drug, rocking her and lulling her in the coldness of the room. She shivered, and Remus pulled the covers up under her chin, than his hand paused on her shoulder and rubbed it gently.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Fine," she answered, but the croaky groan that came out spoke a thousand words.
"Oh, really?"
Remus was studying her. Tonks' eyes felt moist, she couldn't blink him into focus, but she knew he was concerned.
"You don't look fine at all," he stated. He touched her forehead, and she barely felt it. "I think you have a fever, and pretty high."
Tonks wiped her face with the back of her hand, and noticed that she was indeed very hot and sweaty.
She made to say something, when she noticed Remus was holding a glass full of water.
"Still thirsty, I reckon?"
He grinned and handed her out the glass. Tonks needed his help to take it to her mouth and gulp small, revitalising sips of the fresh water. Every drop felt like liquid life, a pleasure for her dry lips. When the glass was empty, she fell back on the pillow, satisfied.
"Thanks," she said blissfully. "I so needed that."
"You're welcome," Remus laid the glass on the nightstand and pointed his wand at it to fill it up anew. "In case you want some more."
All she could give him in return was a grateful smile.
"You look exhausted," he noted, observing her unsurely. "Maybe I should –"
"No!" Tonks realised she'd seized him by the sleeve. She fixed him and just secretly begged him to stay. She didn't want to be left alone.
"I shouldn't be tiring you out," he objected, bout is was a rather lame attempt, for Tonks' tastes. "You need to –"
Tonks tightened her grip around his wrist.
"Please."
Remus froze for a fleeting instant. He glanced furtively out of the window, then back at her, looking seriously torn. His eyes lingered for long seconds in hers; Tonks was sure he would hang his head and walk away any moment, but, to her utter surprise, he curled up his lips and stayed.
They stayed in silence for a while, as though afraid to say something wrong. The memories were still to close, too fresh, and it was haunting. Tonks had the constant impression the screams and the deafening sounds of the duels were sill there, resonating within the walls like they were real. Tonks wondered if she would ever be able to sleep without those echoes – and the guilt – tormenting her.
"Mad-Eye said I was ready," she muttered, avoiding his eyes. She inhaled briefly as she bent her legs to brace herself. "But I was not." A sniffle escaped from her. "This whole war thing, and You-Know-Who's return… It's – it's not something a stupid Auror training can prepare you for."
"You're very young, Tonks," replied Remus sweetly. "You're not expected to be perfectly ready to face this," He shot her a comforting glance. "To face death. Nobody is."
Tonks hadn't known Remus for long – a year and a half, or so – but she felt like it had been forever.
He was a great wizard, and an equally great man – and rather attractive, in his own shabby way –, but the marks he carried on himself told a story the most of the people didn't want to hear. But although the world seemed to think Remus was some kind of monster, to Tonks' ears that story was a public declaration of courage and bravery, and she sincerely admired how he could always wear that affable smile, even when there was nothing to smile about. Like now.
It almost sounded impossible to think about it now, but they had become good friends, day by day, and in the world of loneliness where he lived, she'd seen him brighten up a bit, slowly but steadily, and the more time he would spend with her, the better he seemed to get. She knew she was a mess, with her clumsiness and her sweeping vitality, but Remus seemed to like her for this, above all, so it was a mutual pleasure for them to spend some time together.
It was kind of funny that she'd had to wait to meet a man who was thirteen years older than her to share her thoughts so easily.
Tonks nibbled at her lip, arms wrapped around herself, and attempted to isolate one single thought from the tangle of feelings she had inside.
"I was still his little cousin," she said with a small, strained laugh. "We hadn't met for twelve years, but I was still Andromeda's little trouble-maker… I can't even say we were that close, and yet –" She gazed at him and shrugged, smiling faintly. "I miss him."
She wasn't sure she had a right to say she missed Sirius in front of the person who had probably been closest to him.
Remus, however, proved himself once again the good-hearted man he had always been. She shifted closer to her, apparently slightly uneasy. He licked his lips, but couldn't seem to be able to look her in the eye.
"I'm not going to try and sell you the old 'time heals all things' cliché, because time doesn't heal anything… It just adds layers to your memory, mitigates the sorrow, but it can't erase it."
When his hand tentatively came to lie over hers, Tonks' heart lost a beat.
"You're entitled to feel bad for what happened," Remus added, finally looking straight into her eyes. "Just remember it was not your fault at all."
The sweetness of his expression was soothing, it came down on her like a welcome breath of life, and all of a sudden all the pain, both physical and emotional, relented.
They fixed each other for a moment, and it wasn't hard for her to guess what was going to happen. It was natural, obvious, it was the one sensed thing that two people – especially two friends – in need of comfort would do. Yet there was this shade of insecurity in him, Tonks could nearly hear his brain racing, wondering if it was the right thing to do to seek for comfort in her, frail as she was, if it was the right place and time to let himself move a step beyond the borderline. All of this crossed her mind during the fraction of a second, the time it took for Remus to lean forward and take her in his arms.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and placed the other hand on the back of her head, holding her tight to him. Tonks' fingers clutched at the thin fabric of his shirt and she abandoned herself to his embrace, feeling all his grief melting with hers into a single stream of thoughts.
Uncaring of anything but the nice feeling of being held so tenderly, she set apart every worry and simply enjoyed this moment of bliss, this little break from the ordinary world in which she could be weak and fragile, because a pair of trusted arms were protecting her.
And though she tried her best to hold it back, one by one she felt cold trails of tears roll down her face. It took her a moment of bewilderment before realizing it wasn't only her tears falling on her lips, but Remus' as well.
She breathed his scent, she tried to absorb his suffering, to steal it from him and enclose it inside her, because life had been unfair enough to him, and even if he was the one who should be taking care of her, she knew the best way for the both of them to get better was to take care of one another, to be each other's support through this difficult situation, and by the way he was hugging her, Remus apparently was of the same opinion.
And in this new intimacy, Tonks discovered things weren't so hard to bear as they were when she was alone. Remus was more than a good friend, now more than any other time she could feel how different he was from any other man she had ever met, but she didn't want to get lost in this kind of realisations, not yet. She just wanted to stay here like this forever, and forget of everything else.
Out of the window, the sun crawled its way beneath the horizon, and slowly the golden glow faded away, quickly replaced by a soft violet-shaded light. They were face to face, transfixed and motionless, like under a spell, while a mantle of shadows lowered on them, Remus' body stiffened and his head darted up to look at the darkening sky, then he turned to her. An alarmed expression had appeared on his face, and the enchantment fell to pieces.
"I really should go, now," he said hastily, his hands seizing her shoulders to pull away. Tonks felt an odd sense of emptiness when he left her to stood up from the bed. "Molly will be coming over within minutes, you won't be alone for long."
His tone sounded genuine, like he was truly reluctant to leave, but there was also some sort of apologetic urgency in his words, and it took Tonks a little longer than it usually would have to understand why.
She put on the brightest smile she could and prepared herself to lie shamelessly.
"I don't mind to stay on my own for a while."
Remus shot her a small, knowing sneer.
"Seriously," she reassured him. "Go and do what you have to do, I'm not going anywhere, I promise. You'll still find me here, in the morning"
He observed her for what felt like an eternity, a smile, however sad, still tugging at his mouth.
"Take care of yourself, Nymphadora." He said softly. Tonks didn't even pay attention to her name, and just nodded.
"You, too."
Remus nodded in response and lingered for a moment by the bed, watching her, and just smiled back at her, then he turned on his heels and left the room. When the door closed behind his back, Tonks felt a growing angst rise from her core, taking over her like a storm. On her lips she still could taste the saltiness of her own and Remus' cry.
Something massive had happened in the last few minutes, something she knew would lead them to a hard path, but Remus' scent was still on her, and she knew she wouldn't be able to wash it away.
Tremblingly, she managed to get out of the bed and falter across the room, then, stifling a sob of sudden, irrational despair, she leant her burning forehead to the door, skimming the scraped surface with a hand. A tear abandoned her black eyes and fell down on the carpet; she bit her bottom lip, trying not to let go of her urge to cry. Behind her back, the deep darkness announced a forthcoming night of cold, full moon.
"Goodnight, Remus."
--------------------------------------------
On the other side of the door, leant back against it, Remus listened to Tonks' distant voice, wondering if he was dreaming it or if it was real. He closed his eyes and sighed helplessly, a weird pang gripping his stomach. He had often wished he could be like any other wizard, but now more than ever he felt his burden press upon him with no mercy.
He was cursed, and this curse must not touch Tonks' innocence in any way.
As the pang got stronger, he forced himself to step away from the door and head to the stairs. Before descending the fist step, though, he couldn't help but turn back and address one last blue smile towards the spot where he knew she was standing.
"Goodnight, Nymphadora."