tonks (wonkytonks) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2015-04-06 15:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | nymphadora tonks, remus lupin |
Who: Tonks and Remus
When: Backdated to the middle of March, around the time Tonks arrived.
Where: Sam's.
What: Talking. Awkwardly.
Rating: Low.
Status: gDoc turned thread.
Tonks wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything. One minute she’s at Saint Mungo’s and the next she’s in the bloody States because of some strange magic. It was like a portkey, except it hurt like fucking hell. Then she found out that Sirius was alive! And Remus was there! And they were together! Even though she was happy for them, she was a little sad for her. There were loads of other things that made her confused. Dumbledore was younger than her, the Potters were alive-- she hadn’t even seen Harry yet. The rug was pulled out from under her, she landed on her face. When she arose, everything was upside down. Speaking with Remus on the Network was nice. It was grounding. She suggested going down to Sam’s to watch him mop-- so that’s what she did. She put the phone away and went downstairs. Walking into the bar reminded her of the Hufflepuff common room. It was a few steps down below the ground, and everything was an earthy color. The air smelled of food and beer and she closed her eyes as she walked further into the bar. Which made her slip on a spot Remus was mopping. She landed hard on her ass. “Oi!” Remus spun around, startled. "All right—?" he asked, quickly closing the gap between them. He offered a hand to help her up. The Remus she knew looked the same as the Remus in front of her: tall, lanky, all arms and legs with shaggy, drab brown hair. It was less grey now than in ten, fifteen years, but silver strands were just starting to thread through the unruly mop on his head. He still wore his hair long, with long sideburns, like he'd forgotten that it wasn't 1982. He'd forgone shabby robes for a pair of mustard-colored corduroys and an oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow and a rumpled apron tied around his waist. The Remus that she knew had been thin, had looked older than his years, but now he was almost too thin. The year after the war ended had been hard on him. "There's a sign, about the floor," he scrambled to say. "I'm so sorry, it's slippery—" Tonks took the hand and pulled herself to stand. She practically popped up like a piece of toast. “Oh… I see it now,” she said sheepishly. She took a good look at him-- yeah, that was Remus all right. Tonks wanted to force feed him a sandwich. She had to look up at him slightly, only just a bit as Tonks was a bit on the tall side for a girl. Her hair was bright pink and short. She swapped out her hospital gown for some Goodwill clothes-- a fuzzy pink sweater and jeans… the back of which was a little wet now. She rubbed the spot for a moment, before realizing it was kind of inappropriate to be rubbing your butt in public. “Hullo, by the way.” "Hello." Remus's smile was awkward, a bit distracted as he took in her appearance. He couldn't see the girl he'd met before, eight or nine years old. She was his age now, and he found himself distracted by her hair, pink and short and strange. He liked it. Before he could say anything past hello, his train of thought got away from him: this is the woman I'll marry. It was so surreal that it almost broke him, made him forget that he was having a conversation. "I… uh." He looked down at himself, wiped his hand off on his apron. "Did you want something? A drink? The food's good, if you want something to eat." His gaze made her smile. She smiled with her whole face-- eyes scrunching up, teeth all shown. Tonks suddenly started to gnaw on her lip to prevent embarrassment over her crazy smile. “I could go for a beer.” He was such a babe to her, at this age. She liked him when he was old and jaded. No. He’s with Sirius. Oh, but she could still look. Remus wasn't used to smiles like that. It made him glance away, rubbing at the back of his neck and scratching behind his ear. His cheeks felt hot and he was sure he was blushing, torn somewhere between bashfulness in the wake of her smile and the sheer awkwardness of their situation. "Yeah? Yeah, good, I … you know, have a seat, and I'll get you one." He turned to leave, and then turned back to pull out a chair for her. That was the proper thing to do, yeah? — Not that he'd know, he'd never been on a proper formal date. Not that this was a date. She was his future wife, but this wasn't a date. Chair pulled out, Remus ducked back around behind the bar for a minute, pulling his mop behind him. This wasn't the right work environment for him; he was an academic, meant for archives and libraries and getting lost in shelves and shelves of books, but Remus had learned to take whatever he could get and to go with the employer who seemed the most understanding. He came back with a pint for her and nothing for himself — he wasn't going to drink on the job. "I … so." He wrapped his hands around the handle of his mop and leaned against it. "So you grew up." Pause. "As people do. People … tend to grow up, if left to themselves." Tonks grinned when he pulled the chair back. She mimicked someone wearing a long dress-- tucking her hands under her bottom. Her smile faded when she realized no one was there to see it. She waited patiently, with her hands still under her bottom, waiting for his return. She looked at him like it was a relief to do so. Merlin’s beard. “Thank you, kind sir.” She took a sip from the glass and let out a little “Mm.” Tonks then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Hands can be washed. “I did. I’m twenty-three, as of March 1st. Which means I could have had a double birthday since time’s all…” She wiggled her hand about, like swatting a bug. “Wonky. Wonkytime. How old are you?” "Twenty-two," Remus said. He rested his cheek against the handle of the mop. "Actually … I turn twenty-three tomorrow. March tenth." He chuckled, looking down at his scuffed brown shoes. They were the same age now, but Tonks knew him more than a decade in the future. His brow furrowed, and he started to smile. "I'm … a bit old for you, Dora." He hadn't forgotten that she preferred to be called Tonks, but it slipped out accidentally like a pet name, something softer and nicer than Tonks. "Not here, but … back there." Her face lit up, “Happy Birthday!” Another sip of her beer. Tonks looked down at his shoes too, trying to see what he saw. When he said he was too old for her-- and used that nickname, she got flustered. Her cheeks went a little scarlet. “Thirteen years. Lucky.” Remus let out a little breath. "Thirteen? A bit old, yeah. Not exactly sure what you'd see in me, though I'm not complaining..." If pressed, he'd say he wasn't flirting — and he wasn't, or at least he wasn't trying to. He wasn't a flirt in the way that Sirius was, or even the way James was, where whenever they found themselves around someone pretty they flashed their peacock feathers and wanted to preen. Remus in comparison was awkward and understated, private to the point of coming off as mysterious — well, mysterious to anyone who didn't know the secrets he was keeping. Tonks made a face, puckering her lips off to the side of her face. Her thinkin’ face. “You’re cute. You’re brave. Your scars are badarse. I don’t know what else to tell you.” She shrugged. Back home, she had a harmless little crush. Knowing now that they get married made her a little sweaty. Tonks never got a little sweaty! “I like the sound of your voice...” Remus blushed a bright red and covered his face with his hand. Merlin's beard. She must have been joking, or she just didn't know him well enough. He had an awareness that he was at least somewhat attractive, considering that his love life prior to this had consisted of friendly flirtation and one- or two-night stands before he left without explanation or a call to avoid letting anyone know any details about him. It was a trick he'd learned from Sirius, though Sirius did it out of irresponsibility and playfulness rather than a need to keep a magical medical condition a secret. And Sirius himself didn't have complaints. Still. "All right, I'm not fishing for compliments, you really don't have to give me a list," he said bashfully. "I'm just surprised." Tonks cackled when he covered his face. Making him blush was such fun for her. And so easy. “Why would you be surprised? You’re not the worst person in the world, Remus. Quit being surprised." Seeing him now and knowing they couldn’t be together-- god, it made her want him more. Her smile faded and she took another small sip from her glass. "No, I'm not, but … I don't know, I suppose it floors me when anyone can know what I am and decide it doesn't matter," Remus said. He glanced briefly over his shoulder, and when he determined that his mopping wouldn't be missed much, he pulled out a chair and sat. "I can't tell whether it's modern and understanding or if it's just stupidity — not that I'm calling you stupid, it's just that James and Sirius are the same way, you know. And it's one thing to be a friend and quite another to be … something other than that." The elephant in the room, of course, was the fact that Remus was with Sirius in a way that was a bit more than just friendly, and Remus was private enough that he really didn't talk much about it in general. "What with Ministry warnings and regulations against marriage, and the thought that if I … well, the condition's carried in a bite, isn't it. Even if I'm not a wolf. Most people don't want to even think about going anywhere near…" He made a vague gesture to his mouth. The idea that a werewolf could turn another person by kissing was still a relatively common belief, even if it was so wildly unlikely that it was essentially false. “You didn’t sign up to be a werewolf, Remus.” She felt like she had this conversation before. “It’s not your fault. No one should judge you for that.” He sat down and she put her elbow on the table, resting her head on her hand. She never cared that he was a werewolf. She didn’t care how old he was. None of that mattered to her. The only thing she knew was that she liked him and she hadn’t liked someone in a long time. The world was ending and she didn’t want to die alone. It made her attraction to him grow. Look, he’s brave and sweet, he needs you-- and we could all die tomorrow. “How have you been dealing with the transformation here?” Remus brightened. "Actually," he said, "rather well. Did you know — oh, you probably do — there's a potion now, made of monkshood and some other things, that actually makes the wolf less violent. Lets me keep my mind, I don't have to forcibly contain myself to prevent escaping. It's essentially poison, to be honest, it's mostly poison, but it's prepared in such a way that in gradual doses over the week of the full moon, it completely changes the level of aggression. I wouldn't say it tames me, but … it's the most incredible thing. Completely life-changing." He could have cried, that was how overwhelmed he was. It wasn't the kind of thing that people really understood, and werewolves didn't really form support groups in his world. The other werewolves here weren't of his kind, and they seemed perfectly happy about it for the most part. They didn't deal with the negative effects that his condition carried, or even the all-consuming need to attack humans. "It, ah. It's actually my only saving grace, at the moment. There's been a series of werewolf attacks, and they've determined the creature is one of ours. They've ruled out me as a suspect, but that means they're still on the loose." “Oh! That’s right, Snape’s here. Neville also mentioned keeping a garden. That’s nice. That’s really good. I’m glad you’re handling it well. Do the boys still change with you?” In one of their future conversations, he told her about how they would go to the Shrieking Shack together. The mention of Neville had her quickly taking a sip from her beer to prevent her from saying anything. She wasn’t happy with that kid at the moment. You can’t just tell people their future without asking. “Werewolf attacks? Are the people attacked all right or are they turning as well?” "They do, yeah, now that I'm with them again," Remus said. He still had one hand on his mop, and he drummed his fingers against the handle. There was a tightness in his voice as he said it; he'd spent a year without his friends, and was still convinced that the last three full moons, with the Wolfsbane and his companions, were a dream. It almost made it feel like he fussed over nothing, but he knew what an unaltered transformation, alone, looked and felt like. "The people are … at least two are turned, we know now. Others have been injured. I've been working with the Potters and a supernatural task force to try and help, since as of now I'm the only one from our world with a real intimate knowledge of what they're dealing with. I'm possibly the world's worst support system for the victims." Two people have turned? Tonks put a hand over her mouth. She slowly removed it, “You’re-- you’re not the worst, Remus. Stop speaking ill of yourself. You’re absolutely fantastic.” Tonks felt awkward and decided to put a napkin under her beer. Little drops of condensation raced to the bottom of the glass. “You become a professor. Did anyone tell you that?” Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the word fantastic. He didn't take compliments very well, and tended to insist that other people wouldn't like him before he gave anyone the chance. It was possibly his biggest flaw, the way he shied away from situations and people when he assumed he wouldn't be well-received. For some people, the constant self-deprecation was a way to get more attention, but Remus really did have a low opinion of himself, really did think he needed to shy away before he got too close or got too happy. It was hard to blame him, with the way he'd been raised. Society wasn't kind to people like him, and in his experience it was highly unlikely for positive feelings and opportunities to come his way. Eventually, it was just safer to bow out first. "I, ah. I've been told," he said, the hint of a smile curving his lips. "Only for a year." It sort of broke his heart, but he wasn't surprised. Even with Dumbledore's support, things were bound to go poorly. Tonks watched him closely, squinting her eyes at him. “You were still a good one, you know. The kids adored you. You helped Harry with his Patronus charm.” She didn’t know how else to tell him he was loved. How do you convince someone they are great when they hate themselves? “What else have you been told?” "Not much, but I've read," Remus admitted. "I stopped, after Sirius…" He cleared his throat, glancing off. The idea of losing Sirius again was almost worse than the idea of his own death. "It's my own fault for poking about where I shouldn't, no one should know the future, but I didn't like people knowing things about me that I didn't know." “You read? The books?” She said this excitedly, as if it was a crazy thing to do. She stopped when she thought about Sirius dying. She was so happy that he was here… “Yeah, that just happened for me… I’m happy he’s happy. And that he gets to see Harry.” "Yeah, it's." Remus fidgeted a bit, looked down at his shoes. The fact that he and Sirius were together was sort of the elephant in the room that Remus wasn't discussing. It felt rude to talk about it in front of the woman he was supposed to marry. "We all have a better start here. James and Lily, they've got time to spend with Harry, they're getting to know him for the first time. It's the best chance any of us have got." She was happy for them-- don’t get her wrong. But pairing them off like that made her feel suddenly very lonely. And talking about Remus and Sirius was not on her lists of things to do. But for some reason, she blurted out, “You two are cute together, yeah?” Remus blinked, glancing up. "I …" Were they? He was still getting used to the idea that they were together, let alone the fact that anyone actually knew. He was used to keeping things close to his chest, used to never saying he had interest in men just to protect himself. He'd never been in a relationship before, never had a boyfriend or girlfriend. "I mean, it's… I don't know if we're cute," he said awkwardly. "Are we? 'Cute'?" Tonks avoided Remus’ eyes. “Sure. You’re both good lookin’ kids. And if you’re happy, that makes you exponentially cuter. I’ve seen couples that hate each other.” Oh Merlin’s balls why did she bring this up? |