The Long Fight of Nymphadora Tonks

Chapter 15: A World Shattered

Remus could barely bring himself to believe any of it. The fight, what had happened to Bill, and Dumbledore ...

Dumbledore is dead.

He kept telling himself that, but it didn't seem real, it didn't seem possible. He didn't want it to be real or possible. Not Dumbledore. Of all the people they could have lost - the people he could have lost - Dumbledore ...

Dumbledore trusted me. He was the first. He let me come to Hogwarts - twice. He gave me a job, he forgave me when I'd betrayed his trust, he was kind to me, he understood ...

Remus dropped into an armchair in the living room of The Burrow with a low moan and thought back to those moments in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, to Ginny telling them what had happened and his own disbelief until one look at Harry had told him it was true. And then, in the middle of all the grief and anguish, Nymphadora. Nymphadora glaring at him, saying those two small words "You see!" and making them sound so desperate, so full of accusation and pain and longing.

"She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"

What had he said to her this time, what excuse had he made?

"It's different," he had told her, finding every word hard to say, all the more so for they were not alone this time, and he felt very self-conscious under the expectant stares of all those people. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely ..."

And then she had seized him by his robes and shaken him, and she had screamed at him,

"But I don't care either, I don't care! I've told you a million times ..."

It was true. She had told him over and over again since that day on the way back from King's Cross that she loved him. And over and over again, he had rejected her offer. For her sake, he told himself. He had explained it to her again in the hospital wing, in front of everyone, though he had not been able to look her in the eye as he said it.

"And I've told you a million times that I am too old for you, too poor ... too dangerous ..."

And the Weasleys had sided with her, as he knew they would. Molly's scolding he could ignore, he was all too used to it. It was Arthur's words that had really struck home.

"But she wants you. And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so."

It was true, of course, what Arthur had said. And in the presence of the mangled Bill lying helpless in his hospital bed, who could deny the truth of those words? But it had not been the right moment to make a decision, not when they were all against him, not when he was weakened by that terrible sense of loss, feeling drained.

"This is ... not the moment to discuss it," he had told them all. "Dumbledore is dead ..."

And then Minerva - Minerva McGonagall, of all people! - had spoken up, not on behalf of reason, but of feeling.

"Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world."

Dumbledore. Dumbledore smiling at him kindly when, a nervous boy of eleven, he had entered the Great Hall of Hogwarts for the first time. Dumbledore talking him into coming to teach at Hogwarts, emphasising his trust and his need for someone who could be closer to Harry than he could, someone to keep an eye on him, on James's son. Dumbledore reassuring him that he was not to blame for Peter Pettigrew's escape, either twelve years previously or on the night that he had forgotten to take his potion. Dumbledore dead ...

It's too much. Too much.

Remus covered his face with his hands, much as he had done in the hospital wing, and felt them dampen with silent tears. He was unaware of the quiet footfall that approached him until he felt the soft weight of a hand on his arm and Tonks sitting down on the armrest of his chair, leaning against him, her head on his. He made an attempt to gather himself, to straighten up and be calm, but she whispered in his ear,

"Let go, Remus. For once in your life, let yourself lose control. It's all right. It's me. No one else will ever know."

And he did. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he let himself grieve without holding back. Tonks rocked him gently and stroked his hair until his tears were spent. Then she touched his cheek and he looked at her wonderingly.

"I shall never understand you," he said. "Why me? What do you see in me?"

She shrugged her shoulders and gave him a faint smile. "Who knows? Maybe it's because you're so merry and carefree."

This made him chuckle for a moment, but he quickly became serious again.

"I suppose I don't have to tell you again that I think you're making a mistake ..."

"Don't you dare. You heard Arthur. You can wish for me to find someone young and handsome and energetic as much as you like, but it won't change anything. Without you I'm just a wreck. You talked about being whole earlier. Well, I can't be whole any more, not without you. If you just look at me properly, you'll know that. I've been sick with worry over you, and there's been another kind of sickness too. I've lost my appetite. I've lost my spirit. I can't even change the colour of my hair any more. My powers have weakened, Remus. And all because of you. You're the one I want - the one I need. And I know you want me. You've just got to accept the fact that every once in a while, something good happens - even to you."

Remus shook his head slowly, but she went on pleadingly,

"You're not going to start arguing again, are you? Can you please stop being noble and gentlemanly and tell me, once and for all, how you feel about me?"

"I don't know how. I've never made a declaration of love before."

"Why am I not surprised? Well, there's no time like the present. Give it a try?"

He hesitated for a moment, looking deep into her eyes. Then he said quietly, surprising himself as much as her,

"Will you marry me, Tonks?"

She stared for a minute, not quite sure if he was serious or not. Then she burst into a happy laugh and her hair suddenly exploded like a firework into the brightest pink it had ever been.

"Please," she said sweetly, sliding down into his lap and putting her arms round his neck, "call me Nymphadora."

"Nymphadora," he whispered. "I love you."

And finally he kissed her and held her to him, making her feel at last as though he would never let her go.

THE END