Rating: erm… What's the one above PG-13? I think it's going to be that one, because of images, language and Fenrir Greyback…
Disclaimers: based heavily on Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by JK Rowling. Everything you recognise is hers, the rest is mine.
Pairings: … read HBP again if you don't know this. Remus/Tonks of course.
Spoilers: all six books, especially the sixth one.
Author's Note: and I bravely plough on. But hey, it's not like it's a chore or anything!
This is the fifth instalment already in what has become a series about Remus Lupin, showing the Harry Potter books from his point of view (and, for the Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix ones, Sirius' point of view as well). If you're new to my fics, I seriously recommend reading the others first, because by now my own universe has developed itself so much that lots of this won't make sense if you don't know about the original characters, their relation with Remus and their history.
I said above that I pretty much cranked up the rating 'because of Fenrir Greyback'. That's very true, sadly. Greyback is a thoroughly disgusting person, and I'll write him like one, with all his despicable habits and traits. There'll also be some strong hinting at sex, but nothing really explicit.
Lastly: as with my other fics, I'm planning on posting every two weeks. That's planning – I was planning to do it with Wolf´s Fight, my Order of the Phoenix fic, too, but due to school the entire planning got screwed up and I ending up rushing the last four chapters because HBP was coming out. Luckily, I don't have that kind of a deadline this time around, so I can take it easier… Then again, I'll move into another house in September and my housemate will be a girl whom I met because she read my fics, so she'll have the opportunity to nag me for more the entire day!
But we'll see how that works out. But now, there's a story to read. Enjoy!
July 1996
"But first of all I must tell you that Sirius's will was discovered a week ago and that he left you everything he owned."
"Ready?"
"I've never been less ready for anything in my entire life," Remus admitted. "But if we leave this to Molly, Sirius will curse us and make us end up in hell no matter what it'd take him. So we'd better do this."
Tonks gently punched Remus' arm. "C'mon, maybe we'll find a surprise. Or a pair of socks you lend him ages ago and that he never returned."
He gave a small smile. "The second one sounds more likely."
"Even then, it'll be worthwhile. So let's go."
And thus, they bravely picked up their cleaning tools and set to work, trying to tidy up the mess that used to be Sirius' room.
There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Tonks and Remus would be the ones to clean out Sirius' room. There had been a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix the evening Harry had come home from Hogwarts, the main purpose of which was to discuss what to do now, now Harry had gone back to the Dursleys and the news of Voldemort's return had come out. Among the various topics that had been discussed had been the matter of the Headquarters of the Order. The legal owner of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, Sirius, was now dead, and he hadn't left a will as far as anyone knew. Officially, the house would go to Sirius' nearest living relative – Bellatrix Lestrange. But as she was now a wanted criminal, the chances of her coming up and claiming it were slim. Still, it was better to err on the side of caution, especially with an illegal organisation ("not yet officially approved," Emmeline Vance had corrected hopefully) so they had decided to abandon the Headquarters for the time being. Other houses could serve as a temporary Headquarters until they had settled on a new one.
In other words: time to clean out Grimmauld Place.
Molly had immediately offered to take care of the kitchen and added that the children could do the bedrooms ("it wasn't as if they had anything better to do," she said imperiously; the others present immediately doubted if said children would like the job assigned to them). She had even – somewhat shyly – offered to clean out Sirius' room as well. It had taken this (and, admittedly, a sharp poke from Tonks) to shake Remus out of his reverie – he found that, even though Tonks had pretty much dragged him back a few days ago, he had trouble concentrating on trifle matters such as the Headquarters. Sirius was still occupying his mind. But this was serious business. He knew Sirius would never have let Molly go through his things. So he had spoken up and offered to do the job himself, despite rather not doing it. He feared it would bring up painful memories he'd rather forget. Not sensing his hesitation or discomfort, Tonks had immediately offered to help him. The rest of the Order had thought this a most excellent idea – after all, Remus used to be Sirius' best friend and Tonks was Sirius' cousin, so who was better suited for it? Thus, the matter had been set and Remus had been stuck doing a job he'd rather not do. They had resolved to begin early the following day.
So there they were, standing on the threshold looking at the room which used to be so tidy, clean and white. Now, it wasn't so much.
The first problem was that Sirius simply hadn't been a very tidy person. He had never been one to clean up after himself, and the fits of depression he had suffered the past months didn't exactly help to solve this. Secondly, the one doing most of the cleaning, Molly Weasley, had never been allowed inside. Likewise Kreacher, although one could wonder if his activities could really be called cleaning. And then there had been Buckbeak. Turning ones bedroom into a stable is never going to do much for the interior. The brown-yellowish stain on the otherwise cream-coloured floor was proof of that, just like the long scratches on the floor where Buckbeak had sharpened his claws.
It shows such obvious signs of Sirius. I can almost smell him, even.
"Remus?" Tonks' voice cut through his thoughts, startling him.
"What?" He now couldn't believe he had been so lost in thoughts – Ron and Ginny were making an enormous racket downstairs, obviously not happy with being forced to spend their first day of the holidays cleaning up.
"Shall we begin?" Tonks asked kindly.
"Yes, let's."
They set to work. Tonks tried to get the stain out of the floor while Remus pulled all the sheets off the bed and collected the clothes that had been strewn across the room.
They didn't talk throughout the day, neither of them felt much like talking, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It felt more as if they were barely even aware of each other's presence, much too caught up in what they were doing. It was strange, going through Sirius' belongings like this and knowing that the owner would not, would never again burst in and reprimand them for snooping around. It made the fact that Sirius was dead even more palpable than the past two weeks of grieving had done.
They didn't really sit down and talk until two days later. The house was quiet: the bedrooms had finally been cleaned out, the kitchen was as clean as Molly could make it (in other words: very clean) and there was nobody left but them and Kreacher. The house-elf, however, was usually ignored, and he ignored them, with suited all three of them just fine.
They had cleaned out Sirius' closet, stripped his bed, cleaned the bathroom and managed to turn the stain from brown-yellow to light beige. It was still visible, but not as intrusive. Now, having done the more laborious cleaning, they set to do the worst part: sort through Sirius' personal belongings, such as the staggering amount of papers he had collected the past three years.
Tonks had spread it all out on the bed, all the newspapers, clippings, letters and notes. "I suggest you sort through the notes," she said. "I do the newspapers."
"And the letters?" Remus asked. The letters were the most personal, and he wasn't at all sure if he wanted to read them.
Tonks seemed to feel the same, for she hesitated a moment before saying: "we can decide on the letters later." Remus had absolutely no inclination to disagree, so he nodded, took the notes and began leafing through them to see if there was anything worth keeping.
From the looks of it, there wasn't much. Most of it seemed to be just reminders to tell someone something or do something or other. Remus couldn't help but smile when he found several sheets of parchment on which Sirius had drafted an elaborate code to use when writing to Harry. He laid it aside – in later years, it would be interesting to read back. The rest, however, was not worth keeping, so he threw it on the large rubbish pile on which Tonks had already laid several newspapers.
"Anything interesting?" he asked her.
"If you're interested in old newspapers," she replied. She looked up. "Some of them are from years ago. Look, this one is from 1994, it's about the Triwizard Tournament." She handed him the newspaper. "He must've been so desperate for news."
"I know," he said, quickly scanning the article which had been encircled by Sirius. "He was always asking me for more news, to send me newspapers as often as I could."
"I can barely imagine how it must've felt for him," Tonks said softly.
"Yeah," he said vaguely. What had it felt like, being cut off from everything and everybody you knew? Not just a short while, but for years on end. He didn't know: Sirius had never told him.
"Do you miss him?" she asked abruptly.
He looked up. "What?"
"Do you miss him?" She didn't look at him, but at the newspapers in her lap instead.
"I…" He wasn't at all sure what she was getting at. "Of course I do."
"I wasn't sure – I mean, you barely talk."
Remus couldn't decide if she was accusing him, awkwardly trying to make conversation or trying to say something without saying it. He put the newspaper down and shifted his position until he was sitting next to her. She still avoided his gaze, her hair – black, like Sirius's had been – hiding her eyes.
"Listen," he said. "It's true that I don't talk. I rarely do, and more people than you can imagine have scolded me for it, Sirius prominently among them. Trust me when I said that I miss him insanely much – if only because he told me to open up more." She still didn't look at him, but he felt she was listening, so he continued. Talking was easier when she wasn't looking at him. "Sirius… Sirius did just that – he drew me out. He was that part of me that I knew was missing. He was everything I wasn't but almost desperately wanted to be. Outspoken, easygoing, charming, daring. He thought up plans and did it. I was always too careful – too afraid."
"Not too afraid," she corrected, finally looking at him. She had tears in her eyes. "You weren't too afraid, don't you say that."
"Tonks, what's wrong?" he asked. He realised this wasn't about him, not really.
She held up the newspaper. "This."
He took it. Unlike the one he had held before, this newspaper was only a few months old. Staring back up at him were the faces of the twelve Death Eaters which had escaped earlier that year. Bellatrix Lestrange's face seemed to leap out at him: she leered at him as if she fully remembered seeing him at the Department of Mysteries. Seeing her face again made a surge of anger and grief well up in him, and he felt a sudden urge to tear the newspaper to pieces.
"It's her," Tonks said difficultly. "My Aunt Bellatrix."
"The one who killed Sirius," Remus said, beginning to understand what she was getting at – or so he thought.
"Because I was so stupid not to get her first." There was a bitter, self-hating tone in her voice.
"What?" he said, not believing what he just heard.
"You heard me. You know how it went. I was fighting her, I really thought I had her, I was so close – "
"Don't you dare blame yourself," he cut in, sharply. "It is not your fault, do you understand me? It's not your fault Sirius died."
"But what if it was?" she asked. "What if I could have stopped her? It wasn't too long before Dumbledore came in, you told me, and I only needed to hold her off a few more minutes…"
"It's not your fault," he repeated. "Would you say it was Dumbledore's fault for coming too late? Kingsley's fault for not jumping in earlier and letting her escape too? My fault for letting Sirius go to the Department of Mysteries in the first place? Or Harry's because he fell for Voldemort's trap. Or blame Snape for alerting us that Harry was gone. It's all these people's fault, and yet nobody is to blame because it was just a stupid, stupid coincidence, the sick way fate works."
It was meant as a comforting embrace, really. She had burst into tears at his words, and he hugged her tightly, allowing her to cry into his shoulder. He patted her on the back, again to comfort her. The way he kissed her forehead was also meant as a comforter, just like – as he sternly told himself – the kiss on her mouth, which she gladly returned. By the time the patting on the back wasn't so much a patting anymore but got a little more daring, and a tongue got involved with the kissing, the whole deal wasn't perhaps comforting as it was snogging, but by the time they had reached that point neither of them cared very much anymore.
In the following days, they all but forgot they were supposed to be cleaning. Occasionally they would pretty much untangle themselves and announce that this time they would really continue – only to get terribly distracted five minutes later.
Remus kept assuring Tonks that nobody blamed her for Sirius' death, simply because she wasn't to blame for it. It wasn't at all her fault. She deeply wanted to believe it, but needed his reassurance to convince herself that it was true.
They didn't talk much, if at all, about the two of them snogging like mad. It was a subject that they'd much rather do than talk about, and they did it enthusiastically. Remus had never really considered Tonks in 'that way', but he suddenly realised how funny she was, and intelligent, and kind, and pretty – well, depending on what kind of nose she had that day. It felt kind of odd to go from grieving to kissing like this. He had felt really lonely the past few weeks, and Tonks was the only one who seemed to understand. There was an instant connection which was slowly beginning to develop into something deeper, although neither of them was yet aware of it.
Most of the time they were left undisturbed. The rest of the Order had thoughtfully decided to leave them alone to their undoubtedly difficult and sad task, only dropping in occasionally if it was really important. The new Headquarters hadn't yet been decided on: instead, they switched houses ever so often, meeting at the homes of members of the Order throughout the country. Remus and Tonks gambled on Tonks' relation to the Black family in case they were found out; because she was a cousin of Bellatrix, it wasn't entirely trespassing what they did. Or so they told themselves.
Remus also met the Weasley children and Hermione again when one of the meetings had been at the Burrow. They looked as well as they ever did, having recovered from their injuries, but – like pretty much the rest of the Order as well – they looked more serious. The first true loss of the Order had hit them as well, especially since it was somebody they had known so well. Remus hadn't seen Harry, but he was told that the boy probably wouldn't spend as much time with his relatives as he usually did. He would probably come to the Burrow in a few weeks time.
It was a week since they had begun sorting out Sirus' belongings. Most of the items had been either stored away for keeping or been thrown away. The bed was bare, the closet likewise so, and the only thing left to do was to search through every drawer of the frail, elegant desk Mrs Black had had in her room.
"How likely is it that he's actually used that desk?" Tonks wondered as Remus crouched down to open the drawers.
"Knowing Sirius, not very likely," he said. He pulled the top drawer open and stared down at the stack of papers in it. "On the other hand, Sirius has always been very unpredictable."
She smiled. "Always expect the unexpected."
She kneeled down besides him. He divided the stack of papers in two piles and handed one to her. Most of them were letters, either from Harry or Remus. He put the letters away unopened – he felt that reading them was either too private or not something he wanted to do right now. Tonks followed his example.
The second drawer contained more notes, most of them rather random. Remus was amused to find one sheet covered with small doodles, most of which seemed to depict Snape being the butt of jokes. He put it on the 'to keep' pile.
"Here's a few more letters," Tonks said, handing him the small bundle. "Some of them are from you."
"Thanks." And yes, it was absolutely necessary to thank her with a kiss. Of course, Tonks had to thank him for that kiss by kissing him in return, which he had to thank her for, which she thanked him for, and he was about to thank her back when the door opened and Kingsley Shacklebolt walked in.
"I'm sorry, but I was just wondering – " He noticed the scene in front of him: Remus and Tonks quickly, but just a few seconds too late, breaking apart. " – if I should come back later. Like, much later. And if we could never mention this again. Ever." He backed out of the room and shut the door.
"Oh no." Tonks covered her face with her hands, suddenly overcome with a fit of the giggles. "That was pretty much the last person I wanted to walk in."
"Oh, so you actually wanted someone to walk in?" Remus asked her, teasing. She whacked him playfully for that comment.
There was a polite knocking on the door. "Ah, can I come in?" Kingsley asked.
"Yes, of course." Remus got to his feet, quickly dusting off his clothes. "What is it?"
Kingsley looked slightly embarrassed, but not as much as Tonks did. After all, Kingsley was her colleague, and a much respected Auror. Thankfully, all three did an admirable job of pretending absolutely nothing unusual had occurred.
"There's an Order meeting tomorrow," Kingsley said. "At Hestia Jones' house. I got the address, here." He handed Remus a slip of parchment.
"Thanks," Remus said. Tonks bit her index finger at this comment but said nothing. "Was that everything?"
"No, it wasn't even the main message." Kingsley looked around the room. "You did a fine job here."
"Yeah, we can be proud. It was a mess, but we managed to clear out the most of it."
"Good, good. You see," Kingsley continued, "I was wondering if you hadn't found anything about what's going to happen to the house yet."
"Sadly, no. How so?"
"I've been looking into the legal consequences. The house is Bellatrix Lestrange's, unless there's a will somewhere, or even just a written promise that the house is passing onto someone else. It needs to be written, that is all, the rest is not really important."
"We haven't found anything," Tonks said. "Loads of papers, but most of them were just meaningless, or not about the house at all."
"The thing is," Kingsley went on, "that I think there must be some kind of will somewhere. I think – I'm not sure, but it's my guess – that if the house had been Bellatrix', the rest of the Order wouldn't be able to get in unless she gave permission. And I could get in just fine five minutes ago."
"That's a good point," Remus said pensively. "A very good point actually."
"Maybe Sirius promised Harry somewhere in a letter that he could get the house," Tonks suggested.
"Then we should ask Harry about it," Kingsley said. "But I think it unlikely, because surely Harry would have mentioned something of the sort?"
"Yes, true." They fell into a pensive silence for a moment, which was broken by Kingsley.
"Well, keep an eye out for it," he said. "I must be off again. No, wait, before I go, one last thing."
"What's that?"
"It's been three weeks since Sirius died," Kingsley began, as if they really needed reminding. "The Ministry of Magic knows every detail of what happened at the Department of Mysteries, except for one thing: that Sirius was there. Is it okay with you if I tell them he was there, that he was innocent and how he died?"
Both Kingsley and Tonks looked instinctively to Remus to answer this request. It didn't take him long to think about it: "yes, of course. Tell the truth, please. It doesn't do that the world still thinks he's an escaped prisoner."
Kingsley nodded. "Thank you. I think the Ministry won't be glad that they failed at that too, that they had imprisoned an innocent man, but at least it will clear his name."
"Indeed."
Kingsley took his leave and Remus and Tonks were alone again.
"Too late," Tonks said, "but about time."
"Yes," Remus agreed. He kneeled down at the two piles of parchment again. "I wonder if Kingsley is right, that there is some sort of will in here."
Tonks plopped down next to him. "You know, I doubt it. We've been through everything, we looked through every last scrap of parchment, and there was nothing, nothing whatsoever about the house."
"Well, you can at least check if you're certain of that," Remus said, handing her another stack of parchment. "I'll only say that until we've really reached the last scrap of parchment."
It was not even ten minutes later when Remus, having just opened the third and last drawer, turned triumphantly to Tonks. "Strange thing," he said, smiling, "but if you're looking for something, it's always in the last place you look."
"Did you find it?" she asked. Instead of answering her, he handed her an envelope, sealed with wax and with just one single line on it.
Not to be opened before I die.
Author's Note.
Laadeedah. A little unsatisfactory, in my opinion - but first chapters almost always are. It's kind of hard to get the feel of the characters again after having left them for such a long time - especially since the first scene takes place a day after the last scene in Order of the Phoenix. Hmm... But I reckon that I'll get 'the feel' back at least before the third chapter.
And I think I need to reread HBP again for the tiny little details. Not that that's bad or anything...