Title: Illusion of Truth
Author:
ravenclaw42Rating: PG
Pairing: Remus/Tonks, Remus/Sirius
Disclaimer: Own nothing, spent my last few cents on HBP, please don’t kill me.
Spoilers: Only for the R/T aspect of HBP
Summary: Remus and Tonks talk a few days after the end of the book. Friendly to both ships and all three characters involved, so if you’re here for Tonks-bashing, leave now.
Notes: First off, I’m a huge R/S shipper and would not abandon my ship for the world. But the rampant Tonks-hate is really starting to grate on me, and I wrote this fic to encapsulate my reactions and opinions on a few things I’ve seen flying around. For one, I liked Tonks when she first showed up and loved her all the way through OotP and the bits of HBP before it became obvious who she was pining over, and once I got past that shock, I still liked her. I don’t really care for the pairing but I do appreciate JKR giving Remus the opportunity to get on with his life, and I don’t see why I should randomly start hating a character whom I have always liked. Consequently, this story meshes with both regular canon and the fanon idea that R&S have been together for a long time.
Secondly, Tonks is a bright young woman and it is totally irrational to say otherwise. She passed Auror training, meaning she is observant and careful no matter how she may act otherwise. Do you really think it would have passed her notice that Remus and Sirius were together, even if they were trying to hide it (which I’d like to think they weren’t -- or at least not from their fellow adults and Order members)? So, in seeking a post-Sirius relationship with Remus, Tonks would almost certainly have been intelligent enough to know that she was only taking second place next to Sirius, and wouldn’t expect Remus to fall head over heels for her.
Lastly, I’ve seen lots of joking mentions of the fact that Tonks could just turn into Sirius and all would be well. I think that’s funny, too, and I’ve laughed at the fanart and snickered at the crackfics. But I would never take that idea seriously. In any kind of real situation, something like that would be hurtful and disturbing, not funny or comforting. I still think the crackfics are funny, but I’ve tried a more serious take on the idea in this story.
I am as much an R/S shipper-to-the-death as the next fangirl, but we all need to calm down and see the bigger picture every once in a while. And now that I’ve made plenty of enemies by defending the bane of my own ship, here goes... please don’t kill me.
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Illusion of Truth
Neither of them really initiated their first kiss -- she was hesitant to the point of reluctance, and he was reluctant but trying too hard, so that when they met somewhere halfway it was awkward and a little unpleasant. At least they knew, then, that they were equals, if only equal fools.
They fumbled apologies and sat in silence for a while afterwards, not looking at each other. She leaned against him tentatively, not an act of seduction or romance, just a friend in need of comfort. In that, also, they were alike. He put an arm around her shoulders, grateful for the uncomplicated gesture, and the silence became more comfortable.
“He talked about you,” Tonks said at long last, making Remus start.
He turned his head to stare at the empty grate. They were back in Grimmauld Place since Harry’s ownership had proven it safe. “Did he?” The hollowness of his own voice didn’t surprise him much.
“Yeah,” she murmured. A beat. “I should’ve talked to you about it, too.”
Remus shrugged a bit under her.
“I’ll... I’ll understand if you don’t want this... because of him,” she said hesitantly. “I know I yelled about the werewolf thing, and because you’re poor... I... well, I really couldn’t give less of a shit that you’re poor, all right? So was my mum after they disowned her. And I meant it about getting over being a werewolf. That doesn’t mean anything to me. I could turn myself into any of a thousand monsters, you know? Appearances don’t matter.”
“It’s not just an appearance,” he muttered to the dead fireplace, keeping a tight rein on his emotions. Sirius had always told him the same things, that he had nothing to be ashamed of, and the words were more comforting than he wanted to admit. “I don’t have a choice.”
“Not about changing,” she said, heating up to the argument a bit, “but you do have a choice about how you treat yourself because of it! You have a choice of how to think about it, and you’ve chosen all the things that drive people away -- the way you talk about it, and that... that sort of cold ruefulness, that forced hypocrisy...” She trailed off.
He said nothing.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
He took a deep breath. “No,” he said, “you’re right. He said the same things. I believed him, I’ve no right not to believe it from you.”
Tonks pulled her legs up under her on the sofa and made herself small against Remus’ side. “It’s okay if you don’t want me,” she said softly, although he detected a strain in her voice. “It’s okay if he’s still here, somehow, and you need to stay with him, at least for a while.”
Remus considered that. What did he need, really? He’d needed it when Sirius told him to stand up for himself and to not be ashamed. He’d needed Sirius with him when he changed, had needed to feel warmth beside him when he woke, had needed to know Sirius was safe whenever he came home from doing anything dangerous for the Order.
He needed something solid to hold on to. Something real. Something other than a ghost and a memory.
“No,” he said softly, after a long time. “I think I’ve made my peace with him. I mourned for thirteen years; there’s not that much left in me.”
“You don’t have to let him go just for --” she began.
“Yes, I do.”
She sighed, a little relieved, a little afraid. “What can I do, Remus?” she asked at length.
He understood her double meaning. “I just need someone to be there,” he said softly. “Not there to use or to fall in love with. Just to be there. Someone to worry about, so I know I still can. What do I need to do to have that from you?”
She was taken aback by the question, and mouthed for a second before saying, “Nothing, Remus, I don’t mean -- I mean, you don’t have to do anything for me --”
“I know I’m not the only one hurting from his loss,” Remus interrupted doggedly. “I don’t want this to be one-sided; I don’t want to drag you down with me. You’re offering something that would mean a lot to me, and I want to pay it back. I know you didn’t ask to hurt me. Understand that I don’t want to hurt you either.”
Tonks struggled a bit with this declaration, but finally blurted, “Just don’t... fall, okay? Don’t let go of everything -- let me know that I’m doing some good by being there. And... don’t think badly of me.”
Remus was smiling a little before he knew it. “I wouldn’t ever think badly of you, Nymphadora. I’ve known you too well, for too long.”
“I thought you might, after I asked,” she muttered sheepishly. “And don’t call me that.”
“Well, I won’t call you Tonks,” he said lightly.
“Dora, if you absolutely must,” she said grudgingly, but he could tell there was a lighter note in her voice as well.
“Then we have a deal.”
“Do you think...” she said suddenly, “D’you think, would it be all right if, I mean, could I kiss you? ‘Cos I know you didn’t say anything about love in the deal, but if I just wanted -- I mean, if you -- we -- wanted, you know, someone to be close to, just -- well, we could just have an understanding that impulsive kissing wouldn’t lead to awkward silences and the need to sink into the floor and hide, yeah?”
Remus couldn’t help but smile. “I understand that impulsive kissing is allowed, and you don’t have to worry about it leading to awkward silences or the urge to move to the other side of the globe.”
She grinned in relief. “That’s good to know.” She reached up, hesitated only a fraction of a second, and brushed the side of his face with the back of her hand. “Then we could make up for that last one?”
Remus’ stomach clenched painfully for a second, but he let his eyelids linger closed for a moment and pushed the feeling away, trying to remember only the Sirius who was concerned with his happiness, not the Sirius who had promised them eternity together. That was an unwitting lie he had yet to make his peace with. Maybe in time...
Tonks had shifted a little and Remus looked away from the grate, towards her, and before he had quite regained his grasp on the moment she was kissing him again, and he tried much harder this time to kiss back properly. It felt really strange. She smelled wrong. And, moving his right arm out of the way to make the angle less awkward, he found himself brushing his hand along a body that was too small, too soft, and far too curved.
He broke away, flushed and a little flustered. “No -- sorry, I didn’t mean -- I mean, it’s been so long since I did anything with a... woman...” He realized how that sounded and turned his face away to bury it in both hands and heave a great long huffing breath. “Sorry,” he said, voice low and a little weak.
“No, I’m sorry,” Tonks said softly, reaching out to take one of his hands away from his face and hold it. “Would this be better --?” Her hand filled out a bit in his; Remus looked up just in time to see her chest flattening slightly, her shoulders broadening imperceptibly, her hair darkening in hue --
“No,” he said sharply. She stopped, sitting dead still at his tone, looking questioning and a little worried. She was still female and recognizably Tonks-ish, but the change was enough that he could see the hints of masculinity she’d created, the firmer skin of her hands and arms, the slightly lessened fullness of her lips.
“Don’t do that,” he said quietly, mind racing in a combination of fear and exhiliration. The thought that she could do it -- she could really become him -- it was beautiful and terrifying and so utterly wrong... “Promise me you’ll never do that,” he breathed to avoid choking.
She nodded, understanding more than just his words, scrutinizing his face with gray eyes. His eyes. Slowly, unthreateningly, she let the change recede until she was the same pink-haired, hazel-eyed, clumsy female Tonks he’d always known.
He let out a slow breath of relief and looked away. “Can we add one more thing to the deal?” he asked.
“Shoot,” she said.
“When we’re together, like this... or closer, if or when that happens... don’t change. At all. Be you, every inch yourself. Please.”
Her eyes widened a bit in surprise, having expected him to say “Don’t be him.” “Be yourself” was just different enough to make all the difference in the world.
“All right,” she agreed softly.
When he looked up again, the pink was fading out of her hair. She changed there in front of him, shedding all her layers of disguise until her face -- her real face -- shone heart-shaped and pale in the dimness of the room. Her skin was not porcelain-pale and gorgeous, but the kind of natural pale that burned before it tanned. Her hair was mousy and lank, and looked a bit uncut. A scar showed on the side of her neck, maybe a burn. Her nose was a little crooked. She looked older.
“Better?” she asked.
“Much,” he said.
They kissed again. Her lips were too soft, too feminine, but he knew they were real, so it was all right.
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