Things Canon Misses

"Things Canon Misses"

Remus Lupin fell into a sagging armchair by the fire in his little cottage. He turned his head, and buried his nose into the ugly tan and brown plaid pattern, and breathed deeply. It wasn't there anymore, that musky scent of grass and wood, tobacco and that indescribable smell that was his and his alone. It was over a year since he had died, two since he had last sat in this chair. Remus wasn't expecting the smell to linger, but there had been a small childish bubble of hope that never went away (no matter how the gray attacked his hair, no matter how many lines etched themselves on his face) that just a whiff still hid deep in the stitches of this old ugly chair.

His joints ached, but he drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, the old familiar pose he used to adopt as a young boy, sad and alone.

And angry. He was angry, angry and upset and murderous. He wanted to scream and kick and punch, cry and ... and howl at them all, the bloody insufferable buffoons who didn't care, didn't realize, didn't know. Molly and her unbearable mothering of everything and everyone butting her nose in business that had nothing to do with her. Tonks and her foolish dreams and visions of love in the face of war and evil. He hated them. No, he didn't. He was frustrated and annoyed but 'hate' was not a word Lupin liked or used in regards to his feelings.

But why couldn't they see? Why couldn't they remember what it was like when he was here and alive? Did they forget? Remus never hid or denied his feelings, not really. He was never one to go about frolicking with a rainbow colored flag either, proclaiming things that really were no one's business. Remus lived a private life, always had. He knew no other way of living, but to live a lie? Never. It was something he had promised a long time ago to him.

They were private about it, of course. Remus had insisted on it.

"What we do together is our prerogative," he had said a lifetime ago.

"But we really are fabulously gorgeous together. People should see. Especially you," he had grinned while saying this awaiting the inevitable blush. "Besides lying is what Slytherins do. We are mighty, proud Gryffindors!" He had frowned then. "You are proud, aren't you?"

"Yes." Remus had sighed. "I love you. You know that. And I'm not saying lie. If someone asks pointblank 'Remus, do you regularly take it up the ass from Sirius?'-"

"And visa versa."

"- I will proudly say, 'Why, yes, I do.' But I don't see why we should go about snogging in public like James and Lily do. It's nauseating to watch."

"They've never seen us."

"Shut up, Sirius. Please. For me?"

Sirius hadn't said anything to that. He had just smiled. Sirius could speak volumes with just a smile, and Remus knew he'd live with him forever in private security.

But then they had lost one another to doubt and lies and betrayal and Azkaban. They found each other again, though, through the grace of God and Merlin and whatever other higher power there could be. Sirius had of course wanted to tell Harry at least. But Remus decided it best not to, the poor boy had enough on his mind. But they hid nothing, they acted the way the always had. If Harry asked, they'd tell.

But then Sirius fell and there was nothing left to tell. Lupin lost everything when Sirius died. He wanted to die as well. That's why he accepted the mission to spy on Greyback and the other werewolves without so much as a question. He hoped they'd see through him and tear him apart.

Tonks started accosting him whenever he was at Order meetings or making a report. He thought at first she wanted to be around the last link to Sirius, as he had hoped Harry would have. But he was wrong. She started to make ridiculous declarations of love and even, one late patrol through Hogsmede, forced a kiss. It was soon after the full moon and Remus's reflexes were slower. He pushed her away and told her he couldn't be with her, a simple rejection.

"I don't care about your being a were-" she had said.

"Tonks!" he had raised his voice startling them both. "I can't. I'm too dangerous for you. Too old, too poor." He stretched his brain for any excuse he could think of, refusing to meet her eyes. "It's just... I can't. I'm sorry."

"I can be anything you want me to! Look like anything!" she had stated desperately. She began to sprout electric blue hair, which changed quickly to blonde, black, and green. Her nose grew and lengthened, shrank and narrowed. Her eyes went black, green, yellow, and then it all fell away. Her hair went mousy brown and her eyes dark. She had began to sputter and held back her tears.

Remus had been sorry. He knew it was simply the uncertainty of it all that made people grasp on to a few conversations and friendly gestures to mean true love. He had lived through this before. He knew the signs. He also knew that Tonks would get over this ridiculous crush before long.

He had not, unfortunately, counted on Molly Weasley.

Molly had wanted Tonks to fall for her son, Bill, at first; undoubtedly she was egged on when it was announced Bill had fallen in love with "that French crumpet", Fleur Delacour. But when Molly had heard about Tonks's 'love' for Remus, she began to fill the poor girl's head with reassurances.

And then came that horrible night. Dumbledore dead, Snape a murderer and traitor, Hogwarts possibly shut down, Bill attacked, and stupid, fool Tonks declaring in front of everyone her love.

Molly, Arthur and Minerva had all said their two Knuts worth (which weren't worth that much!). And Remus had simply refused to look at anyone while Sirius's voice was echoing in his head, "TELL THEM!" and for a moment Remus thought he might very much like to scream, "I'm too poor, too old, and too bloody gay for her, you bloody, sodding prats!" But, of course, he never did.

He had wondered why Molly would press the matter seeing as she had given he and Sirius oddly knowing, disapproving looks quite often. But then, that might just have been because she didn't approve of Sirius or Remus's acceptance of allowing Sirius telling Harry "more than he needs to know". Why McGonagall would ever say anything about it, he still couldn't grasp. She, after all, had stumbled upon he and Sirius in interesting positions more times than he'd like to remember while they were in school. She did often say it was a "phase" though. As though being in love with Sirius Black could be anything more than a lifetime sentence.

Remus allowed his complaining legs to fall to the floor and heaved a giant sigh. He would always love Sirius, always. There was no question or cure. Tonks may understand if he went against his nature and told her the truth. She could get over this silly belief that she'd be happy forever with an old, poor, gay werewolf and fall for someone who could truly make her happy.

***

"You're gay?"

"Yes."

"You and Sirius?"

"Yes."

"I'm an idiot."

"Yes - No! No, it's normal. War and all that. I'm sorry."

Tonks looked forlorn for a moment, before looking up at him. "How gay are you?"

"Very."

They both sighed.

"Come on, the funeral is starting." Remus took her hand and led her to two empty seats. They sat down and he turned to her, her hair vivid pink.