Like a Balloon Caught in a Tempest

Like a Balloon Caught in a Tempest

"We must free ourselves of the hope that the sea will ever rest. We must learn to sail in high winds."

-- Aristotle Onassis.

The awkward silence couldn't have been thicker if it came as a preservative.

Snape was staring at her across the table in a way that could only be called challenging. Tonks tried to be strong, but she couldn't help fidgeting under his intense gaze. Her face flushed. He was doing it on purpose. If only Molly hadn't left her alone with him. They hadn't been alone since... Well, better not to think about that.

It would help if Snape would just stop staring at her like that. Didn't he have any social graces at all? Well, clearly no. Tonks mentally rolled her eyes. What a silly question. She knew that she shouldn't be letting him get to her like this, and normally, he wouldn't be able to. However, she wasn't really feeling like herself these days. It seemed like the last few months had shaken her off her foundation, and she was floundering around like a balloon caught in a tempest. She had never behaved like this before in her life. If she wanted proof, then all she had to do was refer back to-- Oh, she wasn't going to think about that, was she? Wait. Couldn't Snape read minds or something? Tonk's arm abruptly jerked of its own accord, and she knocked over her glass with a surprised squeak.

Snape's lip curled as he watched her scramble for a towel to soak up the mess. Only too aware that she was being closely observed, Tonk's face burned hotter, and her skin prickled uncomfortably. She'd give just about anything to be anywhere else. Molly left the room for five seconds, and she was already spilling things and letting Severus Snape reduce her to the emotional state of a child. It was ridiculous. But he was still doing it.

"Would you just stop already?" she exploded.

"Stop what?" he said coolly.

She threw down the towel in frustration. "You know!" She finally met him glare for glare, but her annoyance didn't make the visual contact any easier, and her face remained bright red.

Snape was clearly unmoved. "Careful with the quick movements, Nymphadora," he said in the same flat tone. "There's still a plate somewhere in this kitchen that you haven't broken yet."

Tonks winced at his use of her name. She'd asked him repeatedly not to. She didn't mind so much when Remus slipped, but that was different. It had to be, because she wasn't... They weren't... She sighed, wishing-- and not for the first time-- that she didn't have this subconscious need to make everything in her life more complicated than it needed to be. She could hear her mother's voice in her ear at that very moment, reminding her that Andromeda Tonks never would have made such a slip. Her relationship with Severus Snape never would have reached this level of awkward, because she never would have...

Tonks gave him a helpless look. "Please don't be this way," she pleaded. She didn't expect him to want to share his feelings over a cup of tea with her, but they still had to work together. There were more important things going on out there that required their mutual cooperation, and if he didn't tone down the venom in front of the other Order members, they might start to suspect... Remus might...

She must have struck too closely to the elephant in the room, because Snape visibly stiffened. If looks could kill, then she would have been dead yesterday. "And which way would that be?" he asked dangerously. He appeared to be clenching his fist around a provided napkin, but Tonks had to admit that his knuckles could just be that pale. She had never been one of his students, but she could easily imagine in that moment what it must feel like to be under his direct scrutiny. Well, she didn't have to imagine, because she was already under... Had been under... Okay, her head really needed to stop spinning in that direction, and now would be good.

Tonks floundered for something to say that wouldn't make the situation worse than it already was. She stared at the stiff, defensive set of Snape's shoulders and felt herself soften with guilt. She had never allowed herself to really consider his feelings in all of this. She was too busy worrying about what Remus would think. True, if he'd told her once, then he'd told her a million heart-shattering times that she needed to find someone else. Someone that wasn't him. However, she didn't think that Severus Snape was whom he had in mind.

But Snape... He was always so cold, so how could she have known if... if...? Tonks didn't care to flatter herself into thinking that she had somehow penetrated that steely exterior, but maybe... Was it possible that he had been waiting for some kind of livewire to spark off a full-on confrontation with her? Was that why he was still hanging around headquarters, making her nervous, long after he had already delivered his report?

"I'm sure that's a miraculously fascinating conversation you're having with yourself in your head," Snape said dryly, "but you were in the middle of implying something."

Tonks bit her trembling lip, still hesitating. She put so much effort into repressing thoughts of that night. Opening herself up to this conversation would really be counter-productive. But... Call her sentimental, but looking at him now, she saw a lonely man with no one to talk to, even if it was about foolish girls that may or may not have upset him by throwing themselves at him in a desperate moment. Sadness was suddenly thick in her throat, and she felt very, very guilty. Impulsive was very nearly her middle name, and Remus had just left her again and... Well, that wasn't much of an excuse, was it?

Still trembling, she moved over to his side of the table and hovered uneasily beside his chair. This time, she felt her whole body flush. They hadn't been this close to one another since Snape had... Well, since they'd been in a position that would never qualify for appropriate dinner conversation or otherwise. So much for repression.

Snape did nothing to ease her discomfort. The burning in his eyes as he glared up at her could just as easily have been hatred if not... something else. Her fidgeting grew worse, and the words suddenly came out as a series of self-conscious stops and stutterings. "Severus, I know that I haven't... We haven't... Err... I don't know if you'd want to, but... Well... Did you maybe want to-- I don't know-- talk about... um, you know?"

The attempt to connect had been weak, she knew. But she still didn't anticipate his angry response. Tonks barely had time to jump backwards to avoid banging her chin on Snape's chest as he leapt from his seat. "You're flattering yourself if you think that night meant absolutely anything to me!" he snarled.

Tonks felt stung with mortification. She was so embarrassed that defensive anger couldn't be far behind. It wasn't. "I don't believe you! If you didn't feel something, then you wouldn't be acting like this."

Standing in the broad face of Snape's very obvious contempt would have made anyone, save her dead cousin, tremble. As it were, it made her spine stiffen. "Nymphadora, when you can perform a basic spell without causing something or someone injury, maybe then I'll consider trusting your amateur attempts at psychoanalysis."

"Stop talking down to me like I'm one of your students! If you don't care, then what was with that jibe you made about my patronus? And why did you slam that gate in my face?"

His sneer was wide and looked all the more sinister from her angle as he looked down his long nose at her. "Tell me, Nymphadora. Do you find it difficult or relatively simple to somehow make everything all about you?"

"Severus..."

"Lupin and I were struggling to exist in the same universe decades before you were even born. For the last time, do not flatter yourself into believing that you're important enough to warrant that much attention."

She wasn't going to cry in front of him, but it was hard to cease the rapid blinking of her eyes. "You're a bastard," she said with a belying tremor in her voice.

Snape grasped her face and pulled her into a punishing kiss. She struggled at first, but with her hair caught in his fingers, it hurt more to pull back then it did to stay. Later, she would have to blame sheer insanity, but right now it didn't matter, because she was kissing him back. She was kissing him, because kissing him now reminded her of what it felt like kissing him then. Strange. Wrong. Exciting. Disturbing. Ultimately relieving. Those harsh lips pulled her out of herself, leaving her in a bizarre limbo. In a strange moment of disassociation from herself, a wind seemed to be blowing beneath her feet. Was that even possible? Could a wind be blowing beneath her feet because she was kissing Severus Snape?

The sensation abruptly dissipated as Snape pulled back. Confused, she could only blink hazy eyes at him as he gave her hair a brutal tug. "What is this?" he demanded of her mousy hair, as if the snogging were only a momentary pause in their argument. "Some kind of visual manifestation of your pathetic pre-mourning rituals for Lupin? Does it make him feel like more of a man to know that he can do this to you? Is that why you let him?"

"Did you prefer the bubble-gum pink?" she asked breathlessly. She hoped not, because it was unlikely that she'd be able to achieve the morph in her present state. Bloody Remus.

Snape emitted an annoyed growl and kissed her again. She twined her arms up and around his neck, ignoring the strands of greasy hair that pressed against her skin. She didn't care. She wanted her out-of-body experience. She would just have to feel guilty about it tomorrow.

Tonks whimpered as Snape pressed her back against the table. His hands were working at her robes, and she shifted as best she could beneath his pressing bulk to help him out. No, Snape wasn't the one she wanted. He never would be. That night had been a mistake, and this one would be, too. She had to tell herself that she wasn't the one he wanted either, or else it would be about her taking advantage of a very lonely and distanced man, rather than a mutual commiseration. She missed Remus, but she kind of hated him, too, for putting her through this. No one asked him to go undercover amidst psychotic werewolves who liked to eat children. No, Remus the Martyr had to go and volunteer without even consulting her first. Yeah, that was lovely. She had yet to remember to thank him for that.

It was hard, fast, and over way too soon. Only partially satisfied, she watched as Snape silently righted himself with shaking hands. A thick knot was forming in her throat, preventing the words that she knew she should be saying. Feeling weak and hopeless, she reached out to touch Snape's shoulder. He immediately batted her gesture away, and Tonks drew her hand back, hurt. She didn't know what she was supposed to be doing, and she really wished that he'd share the answer with her if he knew it. However, Snape didn't seem to be concerned with sharing anything further with Tonks. Without speaking another word to her, he swept out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. All the sounds of the room were vacuumed out with him, and Tonks was left staring at a very silent and very empty kitchen.

She sank on shaky legs back down into the chair he had vacated. Feeling drained, she relieved her neck of the pressure and rested her head against the tablecloth. It was almost funny. She was worlds away from smiling, but she could still appreciate irony when it came a calling. Snape and Remus were as different as two men could be, but they still had the same effect when they left a room.

Yeah. How funny.

Finis.

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