The Long Fight of Nymphadora Tonks

Chapter 12: The Changed Patronus

"Gravy, Fleur?" Ron offered eagerly at the dinner table during lunch on Christmas Day.

Disaster struck at once, the gravy bowl went flying and Bill was forced to effect a quick and elegant rescue. Fleur showered him with kisses before she turned back to Ron and commented,

"You are as bad as zat Tonks. She is always knocking -"

As if the jolt Remus had felt at just a single mention of her name alone hadn't been enough, the inevitable happened. Molly chimed in with enthusiasm.

"I invited dear Tonks to come along today," she said, banging the carrots down on the table. "But she wouldn't come. Have you spoken to her lately, Remus?"

He hadn't. Not for two weeks. Two solid weeks without any kind of contact, let alone talking to her. He had thought it would do them good - but it was hard, horribly, horribly hard.

"No, I haven't been in contact with anybody very much," Remus managed to answer. "But Tonks has her own family to go to, hasn't she?"

Hasn't she? As if he didn't know ...

"Hmmm," Molly went on. "Maybe. I got the impression she was planning to spend Christmas alone, actually."

She looked at him, clearly annoyed. He knew well enough why. It was his fault. Nymphadora Tonks, who should be having a nice time right now, laughing and joking with the Weasleys and changing her nose for everyone's entertainment, would be sitting alone in her little flat, curled up with a box of chocolates, probably, feeling miserable. And suddenly Harry asked him the last question he wanted to answer.

"Tonks's Patronus has changed its form," he said eagerly. "Snape said so, anyway. I didn't know that could happen. Why would your Patronus change?"

He sounded genuinely interested, even concerned. He clearly had no idea of the awkwardness this question aroused for the person of whom he expected an answer. And why should he? He was asking a simple question to do with Patronusses, and why should it occur to him that the man who had taught him how to conjure one in the first place might not feel comfortable about answering it?

Remus chewed for a long time on a piece of turkey and swallowed it. Why had her Patronus changed? Oh, he knew why. His fault, again ...

"Sometimes," he began hesitantly, not wanting to explain too much, "a great shock ... an emotional upheaval ..."

"It looked big, and it had four legs," Harry went on eagerly, still oblivious to Remus's current discomfort. "Hey ... it couldn't be -?"

A werewolf? Remus thought. Too right it could. Oh, Nymphadora ... But their conversation was interrupted, thankfully, by a shout from Molly.

"Arthur! Arthur - it's Percy!"

Saved by the bell, Remus thought grimly to himself. Then he thought again of Tonks and her new Patronus. The rather stiff Weasley family reunion passed him by almost unnoticed. He was hardly aware of Scrimgeour's presence. Only when Harry got up from his seat and moved to join the new Minister for Magic, apparently intending to go outside with him, did he rouse himself instinctively and begin rising from his chair.

"It's fine," Harry said quietly.

Remus sat back down again and absent-mindedly watched Molly fussing - or trying to fuss - over a reluctant Percy. And he couldn't help but wonder what Tonks was doing now.

* * *

Nymphadora Tonks sat curled up in front of the television, a box of chocolates on her lap. She was alone. Her parents were out, celebrating with some friends, having a big party with lots of cheer and laughter. They had wanted her to come along with them, to get out and have fun, meet some new people ... But she hadn't wanted to go. She had used Molly's invitation as an excuse at first, but her mother had guessed at the truth. She had tried to persuade her daughter that maybe it was for the best, that it might do her good to get out with a different crowd of people for once, but Tonks had become so angry at the suggestion that Andromeda had finally given up and grudgingly left her behind, alone.

Tonks popped another bit of chocolate in her mouth and changed the channel. There was some old black and white film just starting. She pulled up a cushion, squashed it into a more comfortable shape, and rested her head on it. It was not very long before, much to her annoyance, she found tears trickling down her cheek again, their salty taste mixing with the sweet taste of chocolate in her mouth. Of all things, why did the stupid television people have to show a film about a man - what was his name? George? - who seemed to think the world would be better off if he had never been born? As if she needed reminding ...

As she carried on watching the film, Tonks began wishing she could find an angel like this Clarence somewhere and tell him to show a certain man what the world would be without him - what her world was like without him, right now.

She had another chocolate, tears streaming freely down her face, and wondered whether he would ever see ...