The Air That I Breathe
If I could make a wish
I think I’d pass
Can’t think of anything I need
No cigarettes, no sleep
No light, no sound
Nothing to eat, no books to read
1st August 1974
Though she was loathe to admit it, Andromeda Tonks had been keeping an eye on her cousin.
Ara had never been closest to her. No, that rested with Bellatrix and the bond those eldest daughters formed through their childhood fury.
Sirius had always been Andromeda’s favourite. Both middle children, both so aware of their uncomfortable place in the family. Him, as heir by gender but not birth order. Her, always expected to temper her sisters fights. The two bonded over trying to wrangle their sisters and the Black family madness. Over watching Reg to make sure he was happy - the only of their number to get vaguely close.
She had never taken the time to truly understand Ara Black. Not as Bella had done. As her brothers clearly did.
Sometimes, though she’d never admit it, looking at her cousin was painful.
She was so very similar to Bellatrix. A view into what her sister could be; could have been.
So very similar in appearance, save for the lightness of Ara’s eyes, and the scarring across her face. Flickers of burns crossing her nose to streak below her brow.
In her worst moments after she left, Andromeda had cut her sisters out of pictures. They had, after all, left her too. Bella had even sent a letter - calling her a blood traitor and telling her to never return, for fear of great harm. It had taken her years to read between the lines, to finally see the message underneath.
To stay away, for her own sake. And to never come back, so she would finally be free.
And she could see the similarities. Even in their twitchy temperaments. The burden of the eldest, the ‘problem’ child.
It was a thing Andromeda could not help but notice. The way that Ara could flinch when Ted cheered on the football too loud. All the little things from being a Black that could never be shaken away. The lessons learned through torture and spite; the smaller portions on both cousin’s plates, the flawless posture - as though a pole were erected through their spines. Little lessons they’d never shake. Habits instilled for a world they did not even wish to be part of.
Still, Andy tried. She put seconds on Ara’s plate when she finished her food, shooting the younger girl a pointed look until she ate. Pretended not to see her odd habit of splitting the plate into clear sections. Placed her hands over Ara’s ears when Ted was celebrating too loudly - resting her head on Ara’s in comfort.
Little by little, her cousin opened up to her.
They’d talk about their siblings; both the most sensible of the lot, if totally different.
“Cissa’s always wanted children.” Andy sighed as she ran her fingers through a lock of Ara’s hair. Other chunks in her fingers as she weaved them into a braid that morning. Stood facing the bathroom mirror, donning their best muggle sundresses. Ted was out with little Nymphadora - a hat to hide her changing hair as they ventured for groceries. “Bella, though, she never wanted to be married to any man.”
“Me either.”
“You might meet a boy you like one day.” Andromeda mused, winking at her cousin in the mirror. She was making her look Muggle for the day; plans to visit a nearby carnival once Ted returned. “And when you do, I’ll give you the guide on how to elope your way out of the Black family.”
“It’s different for me. I can’t leave them behind.” Andy stiffened behind her. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not wrong. I did leave them.” She sighed, continuing her motions. Andromeda didn’t speak of it often. It hurt too much. “But I knew they wouldn’t come with me.”
“What if they would have?”
“I suppose I’ll never know.” She pulled the hair tie from her wrist, wrapping it around the end of the plait. “I can only hope one day I see them again.”
“I could… I could give Bella a message, if you’d like.” Ara spoke shyly, turning to look Andromeda in the eye. “Narcissa doesn’t speak to me, but Bella always comes by when we’re stuck at Grimmauld.”
“I’m glad.” She truly was. Even apart, her older sister would always be a source of worry.
“She’s doing better.” Ara continued, fidgeting her hands nervously.
“Good. Is she still mad?”
“Absolutely.” Ara nodded. “Is that so wrong?”
“I suppose not.” Andy shrugged. “I ought to be glad she never took it out on me. Poor Cissa, though.”
“She wanted vengeance for me.” Ara sighed. “Cissa never liked me.”
“You were always prettier.” Andy admitted, giggling at her cousin’s surprised look. She knew how Ara viewed herself. How she saw the scars first, followed by the frizz and the uneven teeth. Though, Andy had noticed their absence this summer. “And Cissa had prided herself on being the most beautiful of us all. So when you were born, all sweet and quiet and perfect, she hated it. You were everything a Black should be, even in ways she was not.” Andy pulled at her curls, freeing a few to frame the girl’s face.
“I wish she would have told me.” Ara replied lamely.
“In doing so, she would have to admit to herself that she was jealous of a child five years her junior. Narcissa has never been good at admitting jealousy.”
“I heard she and Lucius were brought in for questioning over that attack on the Apothecary in Diagon Alley. Apparently they’d visited an hour before.”
“I hope it was coincidence.” Andy sighed. “But if not, my sister and I are all resistant to Veritaserum.”
“That’s a neat trick.”
“Mother used to make us drink a sip whenever she thought we were up to no good. I managed to overpower it first, I needed to for my Ted.” Andy smiled as though it were some fond memory. “Cissa picked it up quick after me. I’m not sure about Bella. I think she might have been either awful at it, or the best of us. Either thought is frightful.”
“I visited with her at Easter, you know?”
“Really?”
“She’s… she used to live in the Black Manor in France most of the time so we stayed there. Spent her anniversary cursing the grounds and dancing to muggle tunes.”
“Bella danced to muggle music?” Andy’s face seemed stuck between a frown and a grin - deliberating whether to be amused or concerned.
“She’s stuck, Andy.” Ara shrugged weakly. “She got stuck trying to get you and Narcissa out.”
“It is the most bitter of truths.” Andromeda spoke heavily.
Silence lingered for a moment. By no means uncomfortable, though a little exposing. Wordless, Ara reached for her cousin’s middle - hugging her tightly as the older girl wrapped her arms around on instinct.
It was nice. Familiar.
But it only lasted until Ted unlocked the door, yelling about some deal on chocolate pastries for them all to share in the car once he’d unpacked the shopping.
——
9th August 1974
A knock sounded in the early morning. The sun, barely creeping over the valleys - lighting them in oranges and yellows. All inhabitants of the Tonks house awoke; baby Nymphadora shrieking at the interruption to her rest. With Ted checking on the infant, the Black cousins ventured down together. Opening the door with their wands concealed.
And there, stood in his pyjamas - several bags by his feet - was Remus Lupin. Hair a mess of sleepy waves, his eyes bleary and his body hunched and tense. This was her friend after a battle. After some ordeal that left him tired and emotionally drained.
“Remus?” Ara gasped, flinging he door wider as she rushed to hug him. “Are you alright?”
“Just a bit of a rough summer.” The boy shrugged weakly. “I didn’t want to bother Sirius and James, not when James is having to sort out some fight between your brothers. I hope it’s alright that I came here. I figured, after the letter…”
“Of course!” Ara exclaimed, frowning as she brushed the hair from Remus’s forehead. He had a new scar - just before his brow and down his temple. A full moon she had missed caring for him after. There were the consequences; new scars she hadn’t gotten to in time.
The letter in question had been sent three days before. Mentioning that she missed him, and wished that it wasn’t so lonely at the Tonks house. That Pete was away for the summer and she didn’t want her brothers knowing her plight.
Ending, with a single question.
Will you come?
“Why don’t you pop the kettle on, Ara?” Andromeda finally spoke, eyes flickering between the teenagers. “I’ll help your friend with his bags.”
“I’m alright without anything, really, I didn’t want to disturb you, Miss Tonks.” Remus apologised, face beet red as he looked to Ara for help. The girl merely shrugged, gently pulling back under her cousin’s watchful eye. “I just… I didn’t really know where to go.”
“It’s alright, as long as you call me Andy. Mrs Tonks is my mother-in-law.”
“Do you have room for another stray, Andy?” He asked sheepishly, pale face glowing in the warm light.
“Of course.” Andy smiled easily, moving to let him inside. “Any friend of my cousins is a friend of mine.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as she led him through the small house to the kitchen, muttering about fixing him some leftovers from lunch yesterday and a cup of tea.
Ara huffed in their wake, pulling his bags inside and shutting the door.
“You have heavy belongings.” Ara commented as she entered the kitchen, sniffling a giggle at Remus’s uncomfort.
He barely let Madame Pomphrey fuss over him, let alone some cousin of a friend that he’d never met before. Andy ignored it, however, grinning at his ramrod spine and sheepish look as she scolded him for being too skinny. He looked to her, helplessly.
“Didn’t have time to sneak a featherlight charm on them before I went.” Remus shrugged awkwardly, looking between the cousins with somewhat alarm. “Had to get the Knight Bus, which was nauseating.”
“Oh, that wretched thing? No wonder you look so pale. We’ll pop you in the front room, on the pull-out if that’s alright?” Andy offered, fretting lightly over the nervous boy. “We use the dining room more, anyways. Only Ted watches the telly.” Remus nodded obediently, only halting as his eyes darted between Ara and the window. Both witches caught the gesture, eyes dating to waxing moon in the sky.
With a little laugh, Andy clapped him on the shoulder.
“We have a garage that we can ward for you, when it’s your time of the month.” She joked, winking at the pair before she waltzed behind the counter.
“You know?” Remus blanched, Ara griping his hand as she gulped at her cousin.
“I’m a snoop.” Andy shrugged, gesturing for the pair to approach. They did so with a fearful look, sitting at the breakfast nook once glared into submission, sufficiently. “Sirius wrote to me about you and I remembered the name. Ministry records aren’t hard to access with friends in low places.”
“And you let me in your home?” Remus sputtered.
“My biggest concern is having a teenage boy under the same roof as my teenaged cousin.” Andy laughed, grabbing a teapot and creeping to the tap. She spoke over her shoulder at the water sounded. “From how my cousins speak of you, I fear your influence more than what you become once a month. I turn into a bit of a beast around my time of the month, too.”
“Who was at the door, lovely?” Ted yawned as he entered, bouncing little Dora as she wiped her eyes and gawked at the newcomer. Quickly, her hair changed a sandy blonde; perfectly matching Remus’s.
“Well that’s eerie.” The boy shuddered, laughing as the girl’s hair turned back pink; a bright bubblegum shade.
“She does it to all our guests.” Andy laughed, placing the pot and stepping from behind the counter to love on her daughter. “When Ara showed up, she kept the curls for a week. I was terrified they’d be permanent.” She pinched the girl’s cheek; Nymphadora squealing in delight as Ted handed her over.
“This is Remus, Ted.” Ara explained to the poor confused man. “He’s in Gryffindor with me. In Sirius’s dorm.”
She quite liked Ted Tonks. He suited her cousin wonderfully, tempering her more manic impulses with his chilled and courteous nature. And the pair looked lovely together; his short brown hair of a similar tone to Andy’s dark curls. Cut in trendy muggle styles with flowing locks for Andy, and boyband curtains for Ted. He did look rather like he could be a musician.
“Oh, right.” Ted nodded, coming over the shake the boy’s hand good-naturedly. “Werewolf fellow with the brilliant grades.” Remus blanched, trying to pull his hand from Ted’s quite excited handshake. “Ara doesn’t shut up about you in her letters.”
“Ted!” She whined, ignoring his wink of knowing as she pulled at the ends of her hair. “Go to bed, the pair of you.” She demanded, using her best strict voice.
“Oh, alright.” Andy laughed, turning to her daughter. “I think we’re embarrassing the teenager.” She whispered, conspiratorially. Dora babbled back and Ara glared at the baby for her betrayal. “You’ll have to make your own tea, then.” She spoke by way of parting, waving over her shoulder as she dragged her family out the kitchen.
The teens stayed quiet until they heard the stairs stop creaking. Then, Ara stood and finished the task. Heating the teapot and placing the leaves once it was warm enough. She grabbed mugs from the cupboard, placing them by Remus along with the sugar and milk.
“You put down milk.” He finally spoke.
“Yes I did.” Ara nodded as she finally brought over the pot to the breakfast nook. “Why? Have you suddenly renounced milk in tea?”
“No!” He blurted, face flushed. “I just… I never realised that you knew how I made my tea.”
“Who do you think makes half of it when you’re all moon sick?” She laughed, pouring their cups. “Sirius makes a fair amount since he doesn’t trust anyone to not poison you, but I make them at breakfast and I make sure you’ve got a cup in the dorm when you stay in bed.”
“I never… all this time, and I’ve never thought about the tea.” He shrugged awkwardly, watching her pour milk and dump the exact amount of sugar in his drink. Two cubes.
“Were you suspecting that the tea fairies brought it?” Ara remarked, finally sitting once she’d put three lumps of sugar in her own drink. Black, as all her siblings took their tea.
“I suppose I might have? Or, really, I figured it was the elves. I never thought it’d be you.” He admitted, picking up his mug to distract from his self-deprecation. Nearly three years of her knowing his secret - never blabbing, not even to her mentally-linked twin - and he’d not considered that she was the cause of the tea. That the elves hadn’t halfway through his first year decided to be kind. It was her.
Always her.
What did it mean?
“And Sirius. He used to do it anyways, before he even knew the whole truth.” Ara spoke, utterly oblivious to Remus’s internal dialogue. “But we can’t trust James to do it, even though he’s offered, as he makes tea too milky. Or Pete, who would forget you take sugar.” She shrugged, lifting her mug to clink against his before taking what was decidedly a swig.
“You’re very perspective.” He noted, sipping his drink and noticing its perfection.
“It’s just tea, Remus.” Ara laughed, shaking her head as though he were saying something silly. “Godric, you’re as bad as James sometimes. He’s always trying to make things bigger than they are. it’s just tea.”
“I resent you likening me to James Potter.” Remus deadpanned. “I might be taller but my ego is certainly smaller.”
“He needs that ego to fuel himself through Quidditch, classes, pranking, and spreading absurd rumours about us to the rest of Hogwarts.” She spoke, matter-of-factly.
“Isn’t that accurate?” He laughed. “James has convinced half the school that I’ve got a poorly behaved rabbit.”
“How?” Ara breathed, utterly astounded and yet totally unsurprised.
“I think it’s the whole ‘furry little problem’ thing.” He grinned, quoting their friend with little gestures and a mock-posh voice that had Ara in giggles. “Like how’s he’s convinced most of the younger Gryffindors that you and Sirius are identical twins.”
“They do understand how that works, right?” She laughed, shaking her head at James’s antics. It was a wonder he hadn’t been sent to the Hospital Wing sooner - given just how many rumours he invented supposedly due to boredom. Though, Remus suspected the boy was more accurately helping to hide their secrets from the others. Every time any rumour popped up that smelled of truth, a dozen far seller ones took its place.
“I think so.” Remus nodded with a bright laugh. “But he’s bloody convincing.”
“I think it’s a Potter thing.” Ara agreed, stretching out her shoulders as she let out a little yawn. The bottom of her dark sleep shirt robe up - a strip of pale skin catching Remus’s eyes. They met hers again as she settled her arms. A little ring of gold around his iris - pink to his cheeks. Obliviously, Ara continued to natter. “How else could they convince both Alphard to help them keep us, and Walburga into letting us go?”
“How was that?” Remus frowned slightly; worry in his brow as he thought of her mother. “Sirius said about that weird meeting in his letter. Said you guys ran away.”
“Just for the summer. Until everyone calms down. Wally came by before you got here. Few days back.” Her lips pinched for a moment, eyes alight. “She couldn’t get past the wards.” She giggled. “Then Wally took away my heiress vault and said I wouldn’t get a penny until I come home. I told her that I’d see her next Easter.”
“James wrote to say she’d paid them a visit. Dorea apparently silenced her and sent her on her way.” Remus rested his chin on his open palm. “And I’m sure your brothers would be happy to support you.”
“I’m sure I can find other ways to get a bit of change.” She spoke mysteriously, a glint to her eyes that he didn’t particularly enjoy.
“I’m in need of something to line my pockets, too.” Remus admitted. A knowing spread in Ara’s eyes as he waited for the dreaded question. The one she had avoided until now, only after she had knew he was aware of her situation. Tit for tat, as they say.
“What happened at home, Remus?” She asked gently.
He was quiet for a while but she did not ask again. She waited; patient and kind. In the dim,
“Mum’s sick.” He said finally, heaving a great sigh as though relieved to have admitted it. “Has been for a while apparently, but my parents decided not to tell me ’til it got bad. She’s up in a hospice. Muggle one so dad’s pulling a fuss.” He grunted. “Told me to bugger off. He said it was my fault she got sick.”
“Oh, Remus.” Ara sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “What an idiotic thing to think. I’m surprised someone as brilliant as you came from a man that dim. Your mother must be exceptional.”
“She really is.” He sighed. “I don’t know how long she’s got. The doctor I spoke to said it didn’t look great.”
“Then we’ll visit. We’ll ring them up and ask when your father won’t be in, and we’ll come and sit with her.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you, Moony.”
They drank tea for a little while longer. Just until the sun was fully risen, until they could hear the Tonks moving around above them. With that signal, they rinsed the cups and teapot. Tucked their chairs and turned off the light.
Before Remus went to the sitting room, Ara paused him. She kissed his cheek, wordlessly smiling at her friend before walking up the stairs and out of sight.
That didn’t stop him looking up - hand on cheek - as though he could still see her.
——
17th August 1974
Andromeda was most often found in long tiered skirts with crochets vests overlayed - a total hippie compared to the leather wearing and bike riding Ted Tonks. Her long curls hung down, loose and evenly cut. Thin glitter across her eyelids like stars twinkling. In other words, the kind of beautiful girl you heard some rockstar lament over losing.
The idol, muse and inspiration.
As much as the style looked lovely on her cousin; Ara couldn’t imagine trying to look the same. She much preferred Ted’s cool jackets and funky jeans. Those were the clothes she tended to gravitate towards, whenever Andy took her into the city.
That summer, Ara had discovered the joys of Muggle fashion. Leather jackets and skirts, flared jeans and cowboy boots. All the different cuts and colours; lengths ranging so very dramatically.
She was in love.
And her wardrobe would be so much bigger when she got back to Hogwarts. Not only skirts and dresses from Effie and Dorea; wizarding styles in colours they’d picked to compliment her. All red and golds and greys. Naturally, she’d gone the opposite direction in shopping Muggle.
She’d bought a dozen different skirts. All cut above the knee; different tartans and patterns in shades of plum and indigo, red and blue, yellow and orange. T-shirts stolen from Ted’s wardrobe, images printed from bands he’d watched and Ara had loved. A couple new jackets - one leather, one denim and fur lined. Several pairs of flared jeans, a couple of different pairs of boots to wear with whatever she put together from the rest.
With that change came the makeup.
Andy had taken her into a some fancy big makeup store in London; filled with fancy women with flawless hair and done up faces. It had been a little daunting, running through all the different products that Muggles used. Still, they could last longer than charms. And give flexibility, give freedom to her look. Not just the classic charms that Narcissa wore daily. The ones that so many girls wore their face blurred together.
After navigating the entire shop (and being helped by almost a dozen random kind women, believing her rescued from a strict Catholic household), Ara had left with a healthy bagful. Three eyeshadow palettes (one blue, one red and brown, one glittery), two glosses and three lipsticks (one scarlet, one pink, one crimson), four eyeliners (one brown, one black, one blue, and one purple), mascara (both blue and black), blusher, concealer, and bronzing powder.
It had felt daunting. Too much to do, with utterly no clue where to start.
But Andy was teaching her.
And wearing her Muggle shirts and Muggle skirts with Muggle eyeshadow and gloss… it didn’t feel like trying something on. It didn’t feel suffocating, as robes often did.
It felt like her.
She felt like a rockstar.
Which she had spent twenty minutes trying to explain to Remus (her half-blood friend), who seemed utterly amused at her trying to say such with her Pureblood upbringing. With each vaguely patronising comment, her eyes narrowed further and her lips began to twitch with unshed snarls.
“I think it’s sweet!” He raised his hands in surrender as she lifted a hairbrush from the desk to aim his direction. He was cross-legged on her bed - having been forced to see her present all the new clothes she’d bought that day. Some denim pinafores and red jumpers and so many more things he’d had to um and ah over for over an hour before her ranting had begun.
“I’ll show you sweet!” She bit back, flinging the brush directly into his stomach. The werewolf let out a little oof, narrowing his eyes as he hunched in at the impact.
“Alright, you’ve made your point. I’ll stop making fun of you, Miss Pureblood.”
“You don’t get it, Remus.” Ara huffed, finally sitting on the foot of the bed. “I know it’s silly, and I know I’m some Pureblood having a whole culture shock thing, but I… it feels like more than that. Not just the clothes, not just this time in this Muggle neighbourhood. No.” She hummed, frustration gone in the wake of blinding openness - complete truth behind her speech. “I’ve spent so long trying to fit the expectations others have of me. I spent my childhood trying to be a good enough daughter, trying to be the protector my brothers needed. And once I was sorted into Gryffindor, I’ve been trying so much harder at it.”
Remus sat a little straighter, shuffling to properly face her as his heart cracked a little at her words.
“I’ve spent so long unable to admit to myself just how messed up my family is. And I’ve gone back every time, like some glutton for punishment. I feel like I finally snapped when my mother let this weird Dark Lord touch my wand.” Ara looked to him with so much sorrow, too much for her years. And Remus, without meaning, edged closer and placed a hand on her knee. “I’ve spent so long being dressed by other people. By her, by the Potters, whoever. And I’ve never minded, since I’d never cared for robes or wizarding fashion, so it all felt inconsequential.
“But now I want to choose between dark or light denim. And I don’t want collared dresses, but I do want collared shirts. I like black as an accent colour and hate brown unless it’s a cowboy boot. I get to have options now and I like it. I feel like I’m finally figuring our who I am, you know?” Ara sighed, placing her hand atop Remus’s with a sad smile. “I love Sirius, I really do, but he just doesn’t get it. My mind has been trying to reform itself, ever since it was first broken. And I thought the bond helped. I really did.”
“But all it did was mess things up.” Remus filled in, his thumb swiping at her knee - ever so softly.
“Yeah.” She sniffed, wiping at her damp eyes with a sleeve. “He just made me like him. We fought about it once, that first summer with the Potters. I told him that I didn’t know who I was meant to be, and he told me it didn’t matter since people liked me.” She huffed out a humourless laugh. “And I just went with it. Maybe because it was easy, maybe because I was scared to actually do what I needed to then… I don’t know. But I’m not scared anymore. Not of being alone.”
“You aren’t alone.” Remus implored, turning his hand to hold hers - boldness overtaking him. To his great surprise, Ara did not force it away. Instead, her fingers curled around his.
“You know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes, a spark now lit within them. “Without him. Without the bond breathing down my neck every other minute. You know, he joins in my conversations with the girls when he’s playing catch with you guys?”
“I fucking knew it!” He exclaimed, clapping a hand across his knee, cringing at Ara’s flinch. “Sorry.” He blushed as she smiled dismissively, stroking a hand along her shoulder. “But I bloody knew he was blanking out on us when we did group activities.”
“Not all the time.” She tried to backtrack, shaking her head at Remus’s howl of laughter. “Just whenever James gets going on a sport tangent.”
“So every day?”
“Every day.” She breathed a laugh. “And he keeps trying to ignore the mysteries of my bad dreams. But maybe I want to solve it. Maybe I want to know who I keep dreaming about.”
“Answer me this, as someone who knows your brother is only trying to look out for your wellbeing, will it help?”
“No.” She sighed. “But the mystery consumes me.”
“Then I’ll help you solve it.”
“Thank you.” Ara smiled. “I wish the others weren’t so dense compare to you. Pete and James are only children and they don’t get it. You’re very emotionally intelligent.”
“I just know how to get inside your brother’s head.” Remus shrugged, retreating slightly as he uttered his biggest secret. “I had a sister, you know?”
“Really?” Ara whispered, leaning closer.
“She was a year younger than me.” Remus smiled with great sadness; memories swirling gold against green. “Had these big brown eyes like my dad, but with my mum’s hair.”
“What happened?”
“Greyback. Kill one, curse the other. That’s always been his deal.” He shrugged, holding tighter as she squeezed his hand. “Mum had this watch she was going to save for her. It’s tradition in my dad’s family to give the kid a watch when they turn seventeen.” He dug into his pocket, tossing a brown watch onto the bed between their crossed legs. “Mum gave me the one for my sister, last we visited - when you went to get her a cup of tea - and told me that I shouldn’t expect one from my dad when I come of age. Told me that she was so very sorry to be leaving me alone with my dad.” He laughed hollowly. “I’ve been here for a week and I still feel like I’m about to go home. Like I am there, still on the farm.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m still stuck in Grimmauld Place.” Ara confessed, nervously twisting a lock of hair. “I’ll be somewhere, and it just hits me. And I feel so small. Everything feels so small, like I can’t breathe or get out.”
“You don’t have to go back.”
“Oh but I do, Remus.” She sighed. “That’s the worst bit. I don’t get to leave, not until I know my brothers won’t be dragged there in my wake.”
“It isn’t fair.” He whispered, voice horse with unshed emotion. It was hard to think about the Black siblings in such a place. They were all too bright for such darkness. It suffocated them.
“Life isn’t fair, most of the time.” Ara replied with a shrug. “It’s the only thing that’s remained consistent. How unfair it all is.”
“I suppose that’s true.” He muttered, scratching at one of his fresher facial scars. A little line by his lip.
“Remus.” She sighed sadly, placing a comforting hand on his cheek. “We aren’t our scars. We aren’t even our bodies. The magic running through our veins will linger long after we’re gone.”
“That’s your grand life philosophy? That we’re all just temporary?” He laughed humourlessly.
“How else do you think I get through it?” She bit out, a little harsher than intended. Upon his blink of surprise, she smoothed her features and spoke softly. “I read this account by this werewolf from the 1800s, back when I was the only one that knew. She was describing what it was like to transform. And she said it was pain rivalled only by the cruciatus curse. And I thought to myself that you were far braver than me, because I wouldn’t wish that pain on anybody and I couldn’t imagine a lifetime of it.”
“Ara…” he spoke softly, holding back his wolf as it howled in recognition.
“I think I’ve wanted to die since I was born. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just something I’ve always felt. This life isn’t mine, I never wanted it. But I won’t end it before my time. Not when I’ve got Sirius and Reg, not when I’ve got you and my friends too. You’ve made me wish this temporary could last a little longer.” His arms pulled around her; Ara’s head fitting so nicely against his chest, his head atop hers. For a moment, he shut his eyes and willed them to stay green - fighting Moony’s protective force as the wolf tried to hold Ara tighter. “I’m so sorry about your sister.” She whispered, head tilted towards his ear - voice hot against it. “I bet she was lovely.”
They were kindred spirits, of a kind. Both used to pain they shouldn’t have experienced. And still fighting, every single day to get through it and be present.
It was hard work.
Still, they did it.
——
20th August 1974
The first time wasn’t planned.
It was pure chance, really.
Ted decided to take Andy to some travelling circus one evening. Took the baby to his parents for the night, said not to wait up - a wink as he parted soon after his wife.
So Ara and Remus, with great amusement, decided to order pizza and watch whatever movie was on the telly in the sitting room. On the way to the phone - a box of menus beside it in the hall - they debated over the merits of pepperoni or sausage. In the end they made a plan to get a meat topped pizza to suit Remus’s taste, and an onion and chicken pizza for Ara.
Said plan was promptly revoked when before even ordering the pizza, they’d discovered Ted’s hidden supply of smokes.
Hidden, due to Andy’s rule against smoking in the house now they had a child.
And, as such, the prefect crime. It wasn’t as though Ted could tell Andy what they had done. That would be admitting that he still smoked, even after swearing to quit.
They’d snuck one each, placing the box back behind the takeaway menus and agreeing to order in a few, after they’d done this.
That was how the pair found themselves in the garden; cigarettes at the ready and a box of matches to light since Andy’s wards didn’t block the trace on underage witches. Sat on the patio - between the tomatoes and the peppers and hoping the neighbours didn’t spy them over the fences.
“Is it embarrassing to say that I’m nervous?” Ara blurted, right before Remus struck the first match.
“Do you want me to show you?” He offered, cigarette perched on his lip as he spoke. “I’ve had puff of a few. Dad lets me when he’s been drinking, has done for years.”
“Charlus uses a pipe, sometimes, but I doubt he’d let me try it out.” Ara huffed.
“I suppose he figured if I was old enough to transform into a beast, once a month, I was old enough to tar my lungs.” He laughed humourlessly, striking the match and holding it to the end of his cigarette.
Once the flame touched the paper, it was sucked into the end - appearing as an exhaled cloud of smoke from between his lips.
It was oddly attractive. He was, well, not oddly attractive. Remus was simply captivating. Tall and sharp-angled. Witty and funny and plain handsome.
And Merlin, did Ara hope she wasn’t blushing as he shook the match unlit and tucked it between his laces.
“When you hold the flame to the end, breath in so it lights the fag. Sometimes, if it isn’t lighting right, you’ll have to take in lots of quick breaths to get it to go. I like the term ‘chuffing’ for it. Then, once the end stays orange, you’ve got smoking cig.” He explained, all the while his cigarette perched on his lower lip - smoke billowing away.
“That sound logical.” Ara nodded, signalling for him to light a match. Instead, with a grin, he bent down to press his cigarette against hers. She quickly did as he’d instructed - quick chuffs until it glowed orange. Then, she pulled back and exhaled with a heavy cough. “That burns!”
“It is smoke.” He remarked dryly, taking another puff of his cigarette.
“Oh piss off.” She rolled her eyes, taking another inhale. This one was easier. It didn’t blister her throat. Instead, it rolled in and out. Exhaled between her lips in a contented sigh. “I can see why people pick up this habit.”
“It’s funny. Despite all your rule breaking, I probably would have pegged you as someone that disapproves of smoking as a habit.”
“I ought to be.” She conceded, taking another drag. “If Sirius learns that I did this, he’ll have to give it a go. And, yes, there all the health risks and complications that I could reprimand you over, but… I just don’t care. It’s a filthy habit, and I want to do it again.”
“You’ve got a lifetime to.” Remus nudged her. “Might be a little short if you do this, but I’m right there with you.”
“I’m glad you are.” Ara smiled up at him, finishing the cigarette and stubbing it on the ground between them. “I’m here for you too. Like I say with my brothers, always and forever.”
“That sounds nice.”
“So far, it’s been lovely. A little temperamental and a bit dizzying, but what isn’t?”
“Sounds like anything involving Sirius.” Remus laughed, stubbing his own cigarette with a wry grin. “I’m glad Pete won that bet of ours before Easter. I’d shudder to think what your twin would have made us do.”
“Something mortifying, no doubt.” She nodded. “Though I am a little insulted that none of you came to me.”
“I suppose none of us wanted to deal with Sirius’s ensuing meltdown.”
“He didn’t have to know. We don’t share everything.”
“You both now share who you had your first kiss with.” He pointed out, wryly.
“Maybe. But there will be other firsts.” Her eyes darted between his lips and eyes - her tongue wetting her lips.
“Ara…” Remus whispered, voice horse.
“You’re one of my best friends.” She blurted, looking to him with those wide grey eyes. “And we both love each other. And I’ve been thinking about it, mulling over all my options - to wait, to not - but I just can’t anymore. I’m fourteen and maybe too young but I know what I want to do. And I only have three years to do it.”
“Don’t think that way.” Remus implored. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”
“I have to. If… if it goes through, if I’m forced to marry that awful man… I don’t want that to be my first time.”
“Ara.” He winced, hating himself for knowing what he was about to do.
“Hear me out. Just… hear me out.” She asked him softly. “I want this, Remus. Because I don’t want to be like Narcissa and lose my virginity on my wedding night. Because you’re my best friend and this won’t mess us up.”
“How’d you know that?”
“Because I’d like to think we’re mature enough not to mess up a friendship over a shared first time. So I’m going to give it to you. That’s my choice, if you’re amenable.” She spoke softly, looking through her lashes.
Yes he was amenable. But that didn’t mean it was a good idea.
Remus felt the wolf growl with pleasure at the idea, and wanted to vomit. It was the first time in his life that the two had agreed on something. He’d spent the past year in an odd hormonal transformation. Filled with embarrassing boners and awkward dreams that left him mortified at breakfast when he’d look certain people’s way.
And in all that, he thought of her.
Of the girl that knew him best. The one that, well, just made sense.
They made sense.
“Alright.” His voice was low as he stood, hand extended her way as he smiled softly. “We’ll take it gently.”
It was slow to start with. As careful as to be expected from the bookworm werewolf who did everything in such delicate ways. They went up to her room and spent their time figuring each other out - how if Remus placed his thumb over her ribcage with the right touch it made her whine, or how if she scratched his back with her nails it made his eyes glow gold. They took their time finding rhythm, working through the original pain until they found their method. Ara didn’t finish through the act, but she didn’t mind. Not when Remus made sure to help her out afterwards - with his delightful awkward charm.
They spent the evening afterwards wrapped together in Ara’s bed - still half-clothed and covered only by a thin sheet - talking as only best friends do. Of their issues the last year, of their hopes for the future, of their fears for themselves.
“I’m tired of being myself.” He confessed while they held each other. She moved her head from his chest slightly to look him in the eyes. They were weary eyes. Painfully similar to hers. She didn’t need to offer agreement, because he knew she felt the same. Of course. They shared this self-imposed exile, this wallowing in self-hatred in the comfort of her cousin’s home.
“Let’s do something about it then.” She smiled up to him as he began to run a hand through her hair. “If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?” She asked, and then regretted when he raised an eyebrow at her.
“Really?” He remarked, pinching her ear.
“Obviously not that!” She squeaked, swatting his hand from her ear and placing it back in her curls. “But just one thing. One tiny thing that we can do tomorrow. One small change.” She spoke softly, looking up at him with shy hope.
He was her best friend. He would always be her best friend, even when they’d stop this, or if it became something more.
So, she watched her best friend as he mulled it over.
“I want to do something to my body on purpose.” He finally spoke. “I want to get a tattoo or an earring or something that isn’t scarring myself on a full moon.”
Ara thought about it for a moment.
“I have always to dye my hair.” She smiled up at him. He looked down at her wide a soft grin, feeling luck at his situation.
On the train to Hogwarts, he never would have imagined this. He sat with three boys who would later become Ravenclaws - trying not to draw attention lest someone clock him as a monster and bar him from education. Instead, he’d made lifelong friends at the Gryffindor table.
He’d never understand why he got so lucky. Never understand why Ara turned and introduced herself, opening the door for the last four years of friendship.
And, well, he was hopelessly in love with her. Which was fine. He could handle it. He could handle the two of them shagging and it being clear that while she loved him; she didn’t love him the same way.
He loved her like the morning dew after a full moon - the sunrise promising the end to the night’s horrors. She would forever be his sunshine. But he wasn’t hers.
She loved him like a kindred spirit. Like a part of her soul, with her forever and always bright. She loved him like a best friend could. But just not how he wished.
But maybe…
Time was funny, after all. And people changed as they grew.
He could wait.
——
22nd August 1974
Remus held the scissors as though they were some fearsome and powerful weapon - sharpened with whispers of daring. A haunted look he shook off upon Ara’s cough, a blush rising on his cheeks. Glad, that she was not facing him.
Instead, she looked out to the garden. Eyes focusing hazily on the hedges that lined the end; flowers delicately blooming amongst the leaves. It was a nice view, especially in a small neighbourhood like the Tonks’s. Clearly influenced by magic - merely beautiful to the Muggle eye.
Carefully, Remus moved to the back of her head, running a hand through the now wavy locks. Feeling the silkiness that the spell had not erased.
One she’d found in some beauty book her mother had given her. To straighten out curled hair. They hadn’t exactly mastered it, but her hair was far looser - a large tub of empty dye on the ground beside her.
Strands slipped to the grass in curls as they were snipped free; twists of deep purple amongst blades of green.
“I can’t believe I let you make me do this.” Remus huffed a faint laugh, shaking his head at the thick chunk he had just cut away.
“I’ve got you wrapped around my pinkie.” She laughed, lifting her finger to waggle it in his direction. Jokingly, he pushed it away, refocusing on her uneven hair.
“More like your legs.” He grinned, ducking her swipe at his shoulder.
“Moony!” She gasped, indignantly.
“Not you, as well!” He groaned.
“It’s a perfectly good nickname.” She huffed, folding her arms as she turned to face him properly. “You’re just mad that it was James that came up with it. I really don’t get that little rivalry you’ve both been developing.”
“What do you know about that?” Remus frowned, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Nothing.” Ara spoke dryly, eyes wide with annoyance. “Mainly because no one will tell me anything. Sirius hasn’t got a clue what’s going on and Pete won’t say anything, ‘cause apparently it’s not my business.”
“It isn’t.” He insisted.
“Then stop doing it around me.” She bit back, warningly. “The bloody pair of you are driving me barmy. All these constant quiet snipes, all the showboating in classes just to try and one up the other… just, stop it, alright?”
“Alright.” He finally conceded, nodding shyly. “I’ll be nicer next term.”
“Alright then.” She nodded, almost turning back - halted by a question. “Will you ever tell me what it was?”
“Probably not.” He shrugged, knocking her shoulder to gently turn her back and continue snipping her hair. “He just… he has everything.” Remus spoke after a second, voice soft and uncomfortable. “Perfect Manor, perfect parents, a decent aunt and uncle that ruddy live with him. Money for clothes and food and a decent broom and whatever crap he wants. My family lives off barters. And trading what we grow and rear for what someone else grows or rears. And I wear his old jumpers.” He sighed, leaving so much unspoken. Biting his tongue to let confessions lay in the darkness - away from her knowing.
Because it was rotten having the same crush as a guy that gave him his old clothes. Knowing, this charity came despite their unspoken competition. Because James Potter was a decent boy. And it drove Remus mad that he wasn’t as well. He was petty and selfish and he was lying to one of his best mates that he didn’t love her all so he could have sex with her.
He was fourteen, after all.
“His family buys my brothers’ and my wardrobes.” Ara countered, misunderstanding. “You don’t have to feel indebted or-”
“It isn’t that.” Remus interrupted with another sigh. “It’s that he never tries to make me feel that way. And maybe a bit that all us Marauders rely on him in some way.”
“James has an ego the size of the sun for a reason.” Ara laughed, reaching a hand backwards to pat his thigh - accidentally grazing a little upwards. “We all revolve around him in some way. But no one writes love sonnets to the sun.” She spoke a little sadly.
“They write them to the moon and stars.” Remus finished distractedly, gently running his hand through her hair to shake out the loose strands.
“Lily likes to tell me Muggle quotes about the stars. That’s all the sun is, you know? Just a big star that drags us all in.” Ara spoke softly.
“For my part, I know nothing with any certainty,” Remus leant on her shoulder - a faint kiss pressed to the crook of her neck as he spoke. Voice rumbling against her - hot and breathy. “But the sight of stars makes me dream.”
“Vincent Van Gogh.” Ara replied breathlessly, turning her head slightly to face him better.
“I’ve always liked his paintings.” His eyes flickered across her face. Distracted by her lips as she chewed her lower one.
“I saw some prints with Ted before you showed up. There’s this gallery…” she trailed off - watching as the gold of his eyes grew until it coated the green.
As her breath hitched, his face drew closer and hers was pulled in.
“Damn what everyone says.” She spoke faintly, eyes still transfixed by his. “The moon has an orbit too.”
Their noses touched, lips close enough for that odd sensation; feeling while not quite touching, so very sensitive to the other’s proximity. Her eyes fluttered closed. His stayed fixed on her pink lips. Like the buds of a rose. The colour of the jam she loved so very much.
“We’re back!” Andy’s voice sounded from the kitchen - accompanied by a loud thump of shopping on the counter.
With a flinch, the pair kept apart and rushedly assumed their prior positions. Remus fumbling with the scissors as Ara tried to will her face to not be so pink by the time her cousin found them.
When Andy finally found them through the open back door, the pair looked almost decent. Luckily for them, they had forgotten that in her absence, the pair had been busy doing very different things.
“Ara!” Andromeda gasped, eyes boggled as she stared at the girl’s messy layered hair - now without its usual curl and shaded a deep indigo. Andy’s eyes welled suddenly, softening as she rushed to fall to her knees and wrap her cousin in her arms. “You look beautiful,” she sniffled as she pulled away, fingers fiddling with the newly dyed strands, “though it may need to be evened a tad.”
“I did tell her to wait.” Remus grumbled from beside them, awkwardly tugging at his ear. The action drew Andromeda’s attention to his life; a silver ring glinting.
“You’ve both been busy.” Upon flickering back to Ara’s face, Andy let out a little squeak - finally spotting the gold ring wrapped around her nostril. “Crikey. One of these days, all these surprises will do me in.” She huffed a laugh, stroking Ara’s hair fondly.
“Are you upset?” Ara whispered, nearly inaudibly.
“Certainly not.” Andy smiled, shaking her head. “You both look simply splendid. Now can I book you in with my hairdresser to even out the ends?”
“Yes please.” Ara nodded, a relieved smile twitching at her lips.