Warding Away the Solitary Night

From the kitchen window, Molly Weasley watched the team of Aurors casting wards around the Burrow.

Such a shame that we need all this to keep our Harry safe, she thought, absently running a dishrag across an already-dry saucepan.

The children had gone to bed an hour before. Ron and Ginny had been in boisterous spirits the whole evening, excited at Harry's imminent arrival; Hermione was also obviously eager to see their friend again, though she was more sedate, and had been her usual gracious, helpful self. Fleur had finally called it a night as well, thank Merlin for small blessings. Molly wrung out a threadbare flannel and ran it across the countertops, half-planning breakfast for the next morning, half-musing on how things had changed in the past few years, since the last of her babies had gone off to school. She'd been torn between relief and devestation at finally having completed the most arduous years of parenting, seven children grown to young adulthood.

No more crying babies or dirty nappies or sticky handprints everywhere, no constant screams of, "I'm telling!", no more strange explosions explained by only a hasty It's nothing, Mum!, no treating sudden fevers and Vanishing vomit in the dead of night, with so much to do through the fog of exhaustion the next day...

...No more cuddles on Mummy's lap, or "treasures" brought to her with that expression of pleasure across sweet freckled faces at the thought of making Mum happy, or the feeling of wonder combined with fierce pride when each child would have that moment in which he or she understood a concept she'd patiently taught.

She'd wondered what she would do with herself. Of course, she hadn't reckoned on having to deal with the constant stream of owls, "Sign and Return" notices of Fred and George's pranks...or her last two children's adventures, most of which involved Harry Potter in some way, all of which had made for a much different time at Hogwarts than she and Arthur had experienced.

It had all led up to this: Her garden crawling with Aurors, a pervasive mist spreading misery and despair to both Muggles and Wizards alike, an impending visit from a boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and a family clock with all nine hands pointing to "Mortal Peril".

Molly was regarding the clock when a sharp tap at the back door made her jump.

"All done, Mrs. Weasley," a tough-looking wizard with short grey hair said. "We'll need you to sign this parchment showing receipt of Auror services, and then we'll be on our way."

Heaving a sigh, Molly tore her eyes from the clock and opened the door.

"Security question!" the Auror barked, slamming it again in her face.

Molly clutched at her heart, gasping, for a moment. Then, she collected herself and threw the door open, advancing on the man who'd just given her such a fright.

"Oh, no, I'll not be signing anything - If the wards you just casted are weak enough that some Polyjuiced impostor could get through while I've been watching you for the past two hours, you'll be going right back out and doing it again," Molly snarled, shaking her finger in Dawlish's face.

Dawlish looked taken-aback, though a small slip of a figure standing several feet behind wore an expression of mild bemusement. Molly glanced her way - Merlin, was that...Tonks?

She looked drawn and weary, her usually-vibrant hair a dull shade of brown, but the heart-shaped face and the eyes rolled in her newly-promoted boss's direction made her identity unmistakable.

"My apologies, Mrs. Weasley," Dawlish finally said. "No disrespect meant..."

Molly harrumphed and folded her arms, waiting for the man to continue.

"We've cast the wards, and yes, they are plenty strong. We've extended the protection to the entire boundary of your land, including the orchard. The sole Apparition point within the Weasley property is the one closest to the house - " here, Dawlish, indicated the spot directly between the garden path and a large rhododendron bush - "any Apparition attempts elsewhere within the barrier will set off the wards, which have been keyed in to Auror headquarters. Ministry officials and those family and friends named on your List of Approval for post delivery are the only ones who will be able to come through our fortification. Your home will be given top security priority so long as Harry Potter is staying here."

Molly nodded. "That's the most important thing. I want all of my children to be safe. Including Harry."

Tonks had bitten her lip, a look of utter desolation falling across her features. Molly raised an eyebrow in her direction, but Tonks shook her head, infintessimally, to each side.

"I'll sign, and of course, we will be remembering to use our security question with all arrivals," Molly sighed, taking the proffered parchment and quill and signing her name at the bottom. The scroll immediately furled itself tightly and sealed seamlessly, and Dawlish slipped it into an inner pocket.

"Thank you," Molly said, waving Dawlish on his way. Tonks had turned and was following her senior Auror to the Apparition point, but Molly called her name as soon as Dawlish had disappeared.

Tonks held back from the departing Ministry-sent crowd, bidding a quiet goodnight to the other Aurors as they vanished into thin air, then she glanced up at Molly.

"Wotcher," Tonks murmured, giving Molly a wan ghost of a smile.

"Tonks, dear, there's no need to stand out here in the dark - please, come in," Molly called softly, holding open the door and beckoning to the younger witch.

Tonks' shoulders seemed to hunch a bit, but she trudged up the garden path nonetheless.

Molly ushered her into the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the scrubbed wooden table. "Sit down and I'll make us a cup of tea."

* * * * * * * * * *

Molly was keeping up a steady stream of chitchat - about the upcoming wedding (Tonks got the impression that Molly hadn't warmed toward Fleur, not that she blamed her, really, as Fleur Delacour was rather a conceited, self-centered, narcissistic cow), about Hermione's visit (another future daughter-in-law under their roof, Tonks thought with a bit of amusement), and Harry's imminent arrival, "most likely not until morning, though I doubt the children would mind if he arrived right now."

"I'm so glad you're able to stay for a chat," Molly continued, "I'd been a bit at loose ends tonight, and it's so nice to have a friendly face around while I'm waiting for Arthur to come home."

Tonks glanced at the clock then, and saw the hands pointing out that yes, there was a war on.

Not that she needed any reminding, really, not after the past few weeks...

Her blasted mind seemed, once again, to be taking inventory of memories she wished she could forget, and the next thing she knew, Molly's hand was waving in front of her face -

"Tonks...Nymphadora. Are you quite all right?"

She shook her head briskly, as though to shake free of the thoughts that had taken hold, and let loose a bitter laugh. "Oh yes, I'm peachy. Thanks for asking, Molly."

Molly had settled in a chair across a table, but she rose and came to sit on the long bench directly next to her. "Dear, you do seem to be out of sorts..."

"Can't imagine why," Tonks muttered. "Things have been just brilliant lately."

Molly took a sip of tea, then set down her cup on its mismatched saucer. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"It'd help," Molly said, patting Tonks' hand. "I have two perfectly good ears and plenty of experience with rough days. After all, I raised the twins."

Tonks sighed. She didn't know Molly all that well, but she really needed to talk to someone before she burst from holding everything in...

She paused for a bit, first warring with herself as to whether she really wanted to bare her soul to the Weasley matriarch, then becoming less fussy in her growing desperation to put words to her worries, and trying to decide which of her troubles to list first.

She started in in a rush: "First, they send me out to clean up after the Brockdale Bridge was destroyed, Muggles everywhere, wreckage and bodies and a whole bloody team of Obliviators rushing about, and all I can do is stand around and try not to make too big a nuisance of myself, since Merlin only knows the Death Eaters were long gone by then. Then, it's the giant attack - the scene was a hundred times worse, it was terrible - and next thing I know, I'm barging into Amelia Bones's house with half the damn department and finding her in a great puddle..."

Her breath hitched; tears were streaming down her face. "And that's just at work - I went with the Order team when Emmeline was killed, you know, too damn much death, I hate it - and it all started when my cousin was murdered by my aunt, for Godric's sake, why couldn't I have taken Bellatrix out of the fight before she got to Sirius? He'd gone through so much already...he deserved to live, to get to know Harry, Harry needed him, thank God he's still got you and your family..."

Tonks buried her head in her folded arms and sobbed. She hadn't heard the quiet footsteps that had halted abruptly at the doorway, or see Molly silently waving Hermione back upstairs.

After a few minutes, she quieted and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Here, dear," Molly murmured, passing over a well-worn, clean handkerchief.

Tonks noisily blew her nose. "Thanks."

Molly gave Tonks a frank stare. "And that's all that's been on your mind, is it?"

Tonks grimaced. "Of course not. You know it's not."

"Remus said he'd tried to 'talk you round', if that means anything," Molly said, surreptitiously dropping a dishtowel and kicking it into the hall. Stockinged feet could be heard to race up the stairs as the towel cleared the doorway; apparently Hermione had enough sense to realize her continued late-night eavesdropping had been detected.

Shaking her head, Tonks gave another bitter laugh. "'Talk me round,' sure. More like trying to convince himself that he doesn't deserve love, the great prat."

"He does love you, dear," Molly said softly, reaching out to stroke Tonks' cheek. "I've seen the way he looks at you, the way his whole demeanour changes when you're around. You do make him happy, but it's just that...he's certainly not accustomed to happiness. He just doesn't know what to do with himself. It's been a rough couple of years for him since Umbridge's laws passed, and I think it's been harder on his sense of self-worth than anything."

"Just because he's older than I am doesn't make him too old, for crying out loud! I don't care if he's poor, and I'm an Auror, for Merlin's sake; I know plenty about werewolves, and I'm open-minded enough to have learned full well that they're only dangerous at the full moon. Twenty-seven days of the month, he's just Remus. Clumsy as I am, he's far less dangerous outside of the full moon than I am on a daily basis."

Molly couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"I just wish he could see himself as I see him," Tonks continued, running a hand through her limp hair. "He's kind and clever and good, and that's everything I really need. I don't want some stupid young dolt who's barely out of Hogwarts and doesn't know his arse from a hole in the ground. I don't care about money. I just care about...him..." She trailed off and tears filled her eyes again. "I don't care how many times he tells me we can't be together, when I can read what he's really feeling clear as day in his eyes. I love him, damn me for a fool."

She sniffled and stared at the flickering fireplace. "I just can't bring myself not to worry about what he'll be doing. This mission...it's terrible. It's...suicide."

"It's necessary, though," Molly said softly, also gazing into the flames. "And he is suited for it, after all."

"He's a werewolf, but that doesn't make him a monster, not like Greyback!" Tonks said, her voice rising in fury. "I read his files at work, he's sick, he is, violent and evil. Remus...He isn't," she finished, barely above a whisper.

"I know, dear," Molly murmured.

"There's been so much loss these past few weeks, and I feel like I'm empty inside, Molly," Tonks whispered, her eyes glued straight ahead, not focussed on anything. "I'm sick of the war, and I know it's only just started. There's so much more to come. It's awful. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm mad at Dumbledore, too, for having set Remus this horrible task. And I know Remus is hurting, too, even if he won't say a word about it. We could help each other - Merlin knows we've been good friends this past year - but he's cut himself completely off from me."

Molly sighed and folded her hands around her cooling mug of tea. "He's cutting himself off from everyone, dear. It's his way of saying goodbye."

"I don't want him to say goodbye," Tonks hiccuped. She swiped furiously at her eyes again, and her elbow knocked her teacup off the edge of the table. "Oh, Molly - I'm so sorry - damn - I just can't seem to do anything right these days -" At that, she burst into full-fledged tears.

Molly, for once, ignored the mess, and wrapped her arms around the sobbing young witch who'd shown up for a chat after a very long day. A long month, Molly added silently, patting Tonks' back and murmuring soothing noises, as she'd do for any of her children. She's the same age as my Charlie, she thought, still so young...

After a while, Tonks quieted and pulled away. "I'm sorry, Molly. I don't know what's come over me..."

"Dear, if you weren't upset by all of this, I'd be much more concerned," Molly smiled, wiping away tears of her own. "As it is, I'm glad to be of help in any way I can."

Tonks gave a wobbly smile. "I'll be fine."

"You're a strong young woman, and you'll get through this," Molly agreed, and she waved her wand at the shattered cup. The pieces flew together, and the repaired mug soared to the table, settling in front of Tonks' place. Tonks clutched at it and stared into the emptiness inside.

"We'll both get through this," Tonks added after a while, and her eyes met Molly's in silent understanding of the fear and hurt and comfort in the sudden bonds of unlikely companionship that only a war could bring.

The two women sat in silence for a moment, and started at a sudden knock-knock-knock at the door.

Molly rushed to answer. "Who is it?"

"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry."

Tonks remained silently until she felt pressed to exchange greetings and half-hearted pleasantries, then made a hasty exit, pulling on her cloak and brushing past Dumbledore - a great man, but still, one who'd sent another great man to most likely meet his demise - without looking at the Headmaster.

Molly called at her retreating form: "Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming - ?"

Tonks bit her lip. Tempting though it was to force a confrontation with the great prat, she decided that if she was going to see Remus again, it would be his doing, not hers or Molly's.

"No, really, Molly...thanks anyway...Good night, everyone."

She left the Burrow kitchen and walked into the misty night, stopping at the Apparition point she and her co-workers had set earlier that evening, and disappeared, leaving Molly to her company, and heading back to her own empty flat.

Once there, there was nothing to do but continue packing for her transfer to Hogsmeade, fervently hoping all the while that she'd be able to put her possessions into boxes, and leave her memories and sorrow behind with the cobwebs.

THE END

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