Transformations

Remus slumped in a chintz armchair near Dumbledore's desk. It was only two and a half days since Sirius had died in the Department of Mysteries. This was the first day that Tonks had been out of St. Mungo's, and Remus with her.

Tonks sat curled up in the chair next to Remus. Her hair was the same mousy brown that it had been upon her release from St. Mungo's. Physically, she felt better, but she had not tried to change her hair colour. It seemed horrible to even think about playing with her appearance. Especially since I could have prevented the reason my hair turned this colour. She could not express in words the half-hidden, painful thought that she deserved it.

Dumbledore surveyed them from behind his half-moon glasses, his eyes sombre. "I am glad that both of you seem to be fully recovered. Thank you for being willing to come straight here from St. Mungo's."

Neither of the others said anything. Tonks hugged her knees to her chest, looking oddly childlike and very vulnerable. Remus stared at the desk under Dumbledore's hands, the wood smooth and dark with age.

Dumbledore continued, "I know that the rest of the Order filled you in on what went on in our last meeting, so you know that we are vacating Grimmauld Place. Remus, since you were living there, I would like to offer you a home here at Hogwarts, at least temporarily. You would have your old rooms in the staff wing, or another place, if you should so desire."

The unexpected thoughtfulness made Remus' eyes sting. "Thank you, Professor. I should - I should like that." His year teaching at Hogwarts had been one of the best of his life. He had given up his small, shabby apartment to live at Grimmauld Place, and had neither the money nor the desire to find another. "I - thank you." Dumbledore nodded gravely. They both knew what Remus couldn't say.

Tonks heard the exchange as from a distance. The vague thought occurred that Dumbledore had never failed to anticipate need, as far as she had seen. Except, of course, for not realising that Harry would need to know about the prophecy.

"The majority of the Order will be going there shortly to help the Weasleys pack, as they are returning to the Burrow. If it is convenient, Remus, now would be the best time to collect your own things, and you too, Nymphadora, if there is anything you may have kept at the house."

If it is convenient. Remus had absolutely nothing to do until his next assignment and, since Dumbledore was the assignment giver, he knew as well. Remus spent a few seconds marvelling at the headmaster's civility before he thought of something else. His voice was hoarser than usual when he asked, "What about Kreacher?"

Tonks' eyes flashed. Remus, looking over at her, saw in that flash the force of will usually hidden behind her quirky nature. It was a core of iron that had made her an Auror against the odds, a core that had released her a day earlier than the Healers had predicted. It was something he had admired since he had caught her watching him silently from her hospital bed. He had recognised in that intense gaze a wholly different side of her personality: the Tonks who was deeply committed to anything she cared for.

"I have shut him in the attic," Dumbledore replied, "with enough enchantments to ensure that he stays there. I believe the attic was not being used, so it should not inconvenience anyone.

He waited for a few minutes while the two absorbed the fact of Kreacher's imprisonment. The headmaster reflected that they looked oddly alike at that moment, with eyes that held the same unhappy expression.

"As I was saying, both of you are suffering a certain amount of survivor's guilt. I wish to impress upon you that what happened in the Department of Mysteries is not your fault."

Tonks did not move. We heard this before, they told us...it's doesn't matter. If I had been quicker, I could Stunned her. Five more minutes would have kept her from killing Sirius. Two more. Thirty seconds, maybe. You can't tell me it isn't my fault.

"The largest part of the blame, at least, lies on my own shoulders," Dumbledore continued. "If I had warned Harry beforehand that Voldemort might try to get him to the Hall of Prophecy, might use his godfather as bait, then none of this might have happened. There is no guarantee that something else might not have occurred, but I wish you to know that you did all that you could and nothing less."

Remus looked up. I suppose so, but still - if I had been able to help him - there's the chance -

Tonks saw the pain in Remus's eyes as he thought of Sirius's body falling backwards through the ragged veil, graceful in dying as he had been in life. That pain hadn't left since the moment Tonks woke up in St. Mungo's to see him sitting by her bedside, gazing into space. She had watched him for a few moments, his body slumped, his chin propped on his hand, his grey-streaked hair uncombed. When she shifted, he turned and smiled at her, really smiled - until she asked about the battle. His eyes had clouded over, and had not changed since.

"Sirius would have agreed that both of you did everything you could. He would also have wished you to spend your time not mourning him, but working to defeat Voldemort."

Just because it's true doesn't make it any easier.

"Now, the rest of the Order, and the Weasleys, are waiting. If you are ready...?"

Remus nodded and stood up. Tonks got up more slowly. Remus held the door for Tonks, who forgot to thank him, but he didn't seem to notice. Both the door-holding and the walking through appeared to be entirely automatic. Watching them, Dumbledore shook his head soberly before following them out the door.

***

The rest of the Order was waiting in an empty classroom nearby as Dumbledore, Remus and Tonks came down from his office. Dumbledore's light blue eyes skimmed over the small crowd, counting. He pulled a handsome red-and-gold feather from inside his cloak and waved his right hand over it, eyes closed in concentration. "Ah, here we are. Everyone -"

Tonks found herself on the outside. She reached for the feather, but was blocked by the mass of people. She tapped the nearest person - Remus - on the shoulder. He turned, saw her, and moved over so she could get inside.

Remus watched Tonks closely. Dumbledore's words on survivor's guilt had sunk in and made him feel slightly better, but also more aware of how Tonks was suffering. Remus looked down at Tonks as she stood there with her fingers laid very lightly on the phoenix feather and saw for the first time how messy her hair was. It looked as if it hadn't been brushed for two days, never mind the dull colour. When she glanced at Dumbledore, Remus saw that her face was pale and her eyes bloodshot, though she had not yet cried. His natural compassion rose up a fraction of a second before the Portkey yanked him away in a swirl of colour.

Most of the Order had travelled by Portkey before, so the landing shouldn't have been a shock. Tonks staggered anyway and fell into Remus, who lurched under her unexpected weight and tripped. Next to him, Moody braced himself and just managed to keep the entire circle from falling to the floor.

"I - I'm sorry -" Tonks pulled herself upright. "I'm so sorry -"

"Don't be, girl," Moody growled. "Portkeys do that to me, too."

Remus cast a sideways glance at Moody, surprised by the kindly note in the growl, but Moody was already off, doing his usual checks for hidden traps and Death Eaters. Remus turned back to the woman beside him, who was staring around vaguely. "Tonks?"

She cocked her head, looking up with puzzled eyes, as if she wasn't entirely sure what she was doing there. "Tonks, why don't you go help Molly?"

She nodded obediently and set off in the direction of the kitchen. Remus looked around as she left, taking in the curtained portraits, the grand staircase. The house that Sirius had hated now seemed stamped with his presence. Remus headed slowly to the first floor, where his room was.

It was neat and clean, though with some personal items about. He had taken most of his clothes to his shift at St. Mungo's, so there wasn't much left to clean up. Remus was not a packrat, and poverty had helped keep his possessions to the minimum. He moved slowly, pulling a battered suitcase from under the bed that read, in peeling gold lettering, Professor R. J. Lupin. He stared at it. The year Sirius came back...the year I met Harry...the best year of my adult life. And now he's gone.

Remus shook his head and pulled open the wardrobe, tapping one of the shabby robes with his wand. It flew into the suitcase, folding itself as it did so. Remus grimaced and began methodically refolding it.

There was a knock on the door. "Enter," Remus called, still folding. Tonks walked in and greeted him with her usual, "Wotcher, Remus," but her voice lacked enthusiasm. She sat down on the bed and watched him silently for a moment. "Why don't you use magic?"

"I used to," Remus answered wryly, "but I can't get them to fold quite right. They crease if I don't do it this way."

Tonks smiled wanly. "Did Harry tell you how I packed for him when we left his aunt and uncle's last summer? I got everything in okay, but that's about all I can say for it. He was probably pulling underwear out of his cauldron and socks off his scales later. I've never been very good at householdy spells."

A peaceful silence followed as Remus moved quietly about the room, collecting his things. Somehow, Tonks realised, sitting here on the end of Remus's bed was comforting. Perhaps it was that no one was trying to console her. Perhaps it was knowing that they were the two who had lost the most. His quiet presence did more for her than Dumbledore's wisdom.

"Can I help?"

Remus looked over at Tonks, who was now poking at the bedcovers. "No thanks, I've just finished, actually."

She leaned over and picked up a photograph. "This picture - this is you, isn't it? And that's James - he looks just like Harry." Remus looked. There were himself, Sirius, and James. He recognised the Potter house in the background. It was high summer, all three dressed in Muggle clothing, himself laughing as Sirius and James wrestled, trying to escape the picture as Sirius dragged him into the fight, still laughing.

The lump that had been in his throat since they entered the house seemed to have grown suddenly much bigger. He swallowed and said with an effort, "That - that was the summer before our seventh year. Mr. Potter took it. We were all spending the summer at the Potters', they were old Wizarding blood and they had a huge house -"

They both looked at it for a few moments in silence. Tonks silently handed the picture over, watching as Remus tucked in safely inside the suitcase. He held the door open for her as they left.

Remus placed his suitcase in the entry where two Weasley bags stood. From the sounds drifting down the staircase, the rest of the Order was upstairs helping the Weasleys search for various missing items.

Remus considered offering his own services until he actually heard someone laughing. That decided him. He headed for the kitchen instead, Tonks drifting alongside.

The kitchen was fairly clean; probably Molly had already been through. Remus rummaged till he found a kettle, set it on the table, and tapped it so that steam sputtered out the spout. Tonks was still standing, looking lost.

"Tonks?"

She jumped. "Oh, sorry Remus, what?"

"Tea?"

She nodded numbly. He took down two mugs and sat down next to her on the long bench, filling the cups with hot water. As he moved to add teabags, Tonks reached for hers with a shaking hand and downed half her steaming water in one gulp. When she raised her head again, she stiffened, looking at something by the stove.

"What is it?"

Tonks reached out a shaky hand. "Accio picture!" A moving photograph in a silver frame zoomed towards her. Remus looked over curiously. It was a copy of the same photo he had just packed in his suitcase.

Peter was there when we took this... Remus thought of those black days when the Marauders had feared each other almost more than they had feared Voldemort. The photograph had been, and still was, a good reflection of the times. He had watched as the boys crept in, cast suspicious, black-and-white glances at each other and left. Then James and Lily died, and we chased Sirius out of the photo... Two years ago, Peter had left and Sirius had returned.

He heard a muffled noise. Tonks was rocking back and forth, her face buried in her hands. Without thinking, Remus put his arm around her. Tonks flung her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. Remus held her tightly, watching the tiny figures inside the frame.

Why am I the last one? We always thought it would the four of us, back-to-back, going down fighting... we never thought it would end any other way -

At last, he let himself go, crying quiet tears for Sirius, for James, for Peter too, for what should have been and what wasn't, for the girl crying her heart out on his shoulder. For himself, left alone. Tonks tightened her hold as she felt his shoulders begin to shake.

How long they held each other, her tears slowly soaking his shirt, his own tears dripping onto her hair, he never knew. He did know that she cried a little longer than he did, cradled in his arms. Eventually her sobs slowed and she sat up straight, swiping at her eyes. "Thanks for letting me get you all wet, Remus."

He pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her. "You're welcome."

Tonks laughed weakly. "Isn't it a little late for this?" A last sob broke through her laughter, but she swallowed it and applied the handkerchief to her face.

Remus took the damp square back. "I forgot I had it." He studied her face, now blotchy from the past ten - fifteen? thirty? - minutes. "You may want to tidy up a bit before we leave."

Tonks sighed. "For a while, I forgot there was anyone else in the house. Thanks." She stood slowly. "Remus -"

"Yes?"

Tonks opened her mouth, shut it, opened it again and said awkwardly, "Thanks. I mean, it really helped. No one else quite knows what it's like, losing him."

Remus felt his eyes go moist again. "I know."

She disappeared through the doorway. Remus slumped, tired out by the unaccustomed force of emotion, and maybe something else.

"Remus?" Tonks had put her head back into the kitchen.

"Yes?"

Tonks bit her lip in a way that reminded Remus of one of his students caught talking in class. "I was wondering - since you already have one - can I have that picture?"

Remus looked at the object in question, lying on the table, at the three laughing people inside. "I think Sirius would have liked you to have it."

He stood, holding it out. She touched it and he paused, his still hand holding to the other side. Their eyes met. The corner of his mouth twisted, not in laughter but in a kind of pleading sympathy.

It will be well.

Tonks smiled through her tears, her first real smile since the Ministry. Remus released the picture to stand alone in the kitchen as she vanished.