Morose
August, 1996
Remus was standing outside, alone, leaning casually against a tree, watching the almost-full moon shine over the countryside.
Remus had felt alone before. He thought he was at his loneliest after James and Lily had been killed and Sirius had gone to Azkaban. But even then, the knowledge that Sirius was still alive, and that little inkling which persisted at Remus that suggested Sirius was innocent, gave him hope at times. Sirius certainly looked guilty, but it was almost impossible to believe that his friend could have betrayed James, Lily, and Harry, that he could have killed Peter… and, in fact, that little inkling had turned out to be right.
The day Peter was discovered, the day the truth about Sirius was discovered, was the best day Remus had had since his days at Hogwarts. He had his best friend back. Remus was no longer a complete outsider.
But now Sirius was gone. Finally, officially. Disappeared through the veil in the Death Chamber. And Remus was alone.
Except… except that through Sirius' death, Remus seemed to have acquired the closest thing to a new ally since Remus' reintroduction to the Order.
He spent many nights with Nymphadora Tonks. In a fully platonic sense, of course; he'd first escorted her home on the night after Sirius had died, and she'd invited him in for tea. They'd talked for hours, reminiscing about Sirius, and finally Remus broke. And she was there, through and through, holding him gently as he wept openly over the loss of his final true friend.
Her hair was brown that day, and it hadn't changed since. She seemed to lack the vivaciousness she always held before. He sometimes caught a sparkle in her eye, but for the most part, she had become morose, just like Remus.
And that had brought them close. They had an unspoken bond between them. Remus couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but Dora understood him in a way he wasn't sure how to respond to. To be honest, he didn't want her to. She seemed almost too okay with his werewolfishness, with his poverty. She almost seemed to embrace him for it.
Remus sighed and stared at the moon. A shiver ran down his spine.
"Remus, don't just stand out there being cold, come warm by the fire," came Tonks' soft voice from behind him.
Remus jumped slightly, but smiled and turned to glance at her as she approached. "I'm all right. The moon is holding a trance on me, I suppose." He turned back and stared at the full sphere again. "It's full tomorrow," he said hollowly.
Tonks stood beside him and nodded tersely. "Have you got someone making your potion for you?"
Remus shook his head. "I'll manage."
Tonks frowned and placed a hand on his arm. "Don't be ridiculous, I'll make it for you."
Remus' eyes widened; he struggled to keep the scepticism out of his tone. "Ah, Dora… have you any… experience with the Wolfsbane Potion?"
Dora's expression flashed offense. "Not explicitly, but I do have training in potions, I'm an Auror after all…"
Remus shook his head. "It is a very, very delicate potion. It's not that I don't trust you," Remus added hurriedly, "but very few people can successfully make the potion, and, well, I don't want you accidentally blowing up your house whilst trying." He looked her in the eye and raised his eyebrows as he finished, asserting the unsaid implication of her clumsiness.
Tonks stared back at Remus, brow furrowed. "Fine, Remus. Suffer through. Just like you always do, like you've always done for your whole life. You choose to suffer through alone, ignoring those who want to help, ignoring the possibility of 'us' in favour of being alone…"
It was Remus' turn to frown. "'Us'? What have we got to do with—" But comprehension hit Remus before he was able to finish his sentence. He observed Dora's face, which remained defiant, but couldn't hide the flush which was creeping into her cheeks. "Oh, Dora. Dora, Dora…" Remus turned on his heel and pressed his forehead against the trunk of the tree he'd been leaning against.
Tonks swallowed. "Why do I get the feeling I'm going to be let down easy?"
Remus closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned to face the young witch again. "Nymphadora," he began seriously, "there isn't an 'us'. There can be no 'us'. I am sorry, I am truly, truly sorry to have to tell you this, but…"
"But you just don't have feelings for the clumsy witch upon whom you feel you can't depend for some reason, I understand," she said, voice wavering. She prepared herself to turn on her heel and march back to her home, but Remus' hand shot out quickly and caught her chin. She was forced to stare into his deep, brown eyes, slightly bloodshot from the moon's influence.
"I wish it was that simple," he said huskily. "I can't bring myself to be dishonest with you, Dora. You're a truly spectacular witch, with a tremendous amount of power for your age. You're intelligent, you're quick, you're compassionate… it's simply not the case that I don't reciprocate your feelings." Remus shook his head. "The day Sirius died, I felt like I lost all the significant connections I'd ever made. Three things got me through those first few days: my obligation to look out for Harry, as James and Lily's friend; my determination to right the wrongs done to my friends; and your support. In weeks, you've somehow penetrated the shield I've long since put up to protect people from the beast living inside me… but this is as far as you get."
Tonks swallowed hard against the lump in her throat and tried to make herself sound assertive. "Remus, if you think I'm going to put up with the answer that you're trying to protect me from something which affects you one day of the month and which isn't your fault to begin with—"
"It's not just my werewolfishness, although that is certainly a driving factor. I am a poor wizard, Dora. I wouldn't be able to provide for you, and you certainly deserve that."
"I don't care," she pleaded. "I'm an Auror, I'll bring in enough for the two of us—"
"Furthermore," Remus said loudly over her protests, "I am over a decade your elder. You are young, vivacious, beautiful… everything I am not. You have such a future ahead of you, whereas I am destined to spend the rest of my life mooching off the kindness of others. You deserve a life of dignity, something which I cannot provide."
"Remus," she said slowly, trying to make him understand, "I don't care about any of that."
"And yes, let's address the danger I pose to you, shall we?" Remus continued, ignorant to her protests. "Sure, I can remove myself from your vicinity for a certain amount of time, but I will eventually find my way back. I've had relationships before, Dora, and the beast inside me doesn't hold back. If we become involved, this beast will adhere to its bestial urges, and it will track you down whether I want it to or not."
"Remus Lupin, I am a trained Auror!" Tonks shouted at him. "Don't you think I've had training in dealing with werewolves? At the very least I can keep you at bay until the sun rises and you change back."
"Even if that were the case," Remus bellowed, "you would grow weary! You have yet to see the beast that I become. You disconnect me from the werewolf but the reality is that we are one and the same! Eventually you will grow to understand this, and you will not want to continue contact with me. It is a curse, Dora, an absolute curse, and I flatly refuse to bestow it upon you." And finally Remus turned and walked to the edge of the property, preparing to Disapparate.
"You don't know that!" Tonks called after him, tears streaming openly down her face. "You can't know any of what you just said, Remus, please, give us a chance!"
Remus looked back once, and Tonks saw that his eyes were brimming with tears. "I wish it were different," he said simply, his tone renewed to its soft command. A crack echoed in the night, and he was gone.