An Unlocked Window

by: HulaHula

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, settings, etc. from the Harry Potter universe. Jo Rowling does.

She had been watching the lone figure for over an hour now. Why does he insist on sitting in this miserable weather alone? She wondered, a worried frown forming on her face.

Misery was supposed to love company. And no one could deny that everyone at Hogwarts was heartbroken tonight. Twenty-four hours ago, the great Albus Dumbledore had been murdered. Tonks’ heart squeezed at the thought. She began to warm her hands from the unusual chill.

She was seated on Hagrid’s front step. The sharp, burnt smell of the hut behind her was burning her eyes. A thud sounded behind her, as Hagrid moved another large pot, but she didn’t notice. Her focus was on the man seated on the step at the entrance to the school - Remus Lupin.

They had not spoken to one another since her public display in the hospital wing the previous night. There was no excuse for their lack of communication, for neither of them had left the school.

Tonks gathered the corners of her light cloak closer to her body. She could only see his slumped silhouette, now that night had fallen.

“ ‘Emphadora, your gon’ ta catch your death,” Hagrid called to her suddenly. She heard his muffled boots walk up behind her before he opened the door. A pleasant warmth covered her as he draped a huge blanket on her shoulders. Glancing around to give him a small smile, she thanked him. Hagrid looked terrible, his face swollen and splotchy. His eyes were still red from his tears, but dry. Apparently he was beyond tears now.

Tonks once again turned her attention back to the silhouette.

Remus’ mind was troubled. He barely registered the cold. He had been sitting on Hogwarts’ cold steps since supper.

At first, his thoughts had raced. Images of the recent battle, people sobbing, blood, and Tonks had fought for control of his mind. Then slowly, around an hour ago, they had settled on Tonks. He thought of the Tonks he had met two years ago, when they had first met. Her bubbly personality. Her bright hair. Her infectious smile.

She had always been a burst of sunshine to the Order when the future seemed dark and gloomy.

Now she looked like a church mouse - quiet, tired, and unhappy. Because of him.

Tonks had bluntly explained to him her feelings a month after Sirius’ death. She had said that she loved him. Loved everything about him. Even his “furry little problem.”

Remus felt a familiar squirm in his stomach. Tonks’ confession had made him feel like a new man - for five whole seconds. Then reality had set in.

“We can’t do this, Nymphadora. W-we can’t be . . . just forget about me. I am far too old for you. And too poor for that matter. And . . . and too dangerous,” he had forcefully explained across the table to her that night. “You don’t need . . . this,” he had finished, jabbing his own chest to make his point clear.

He hadn’t seen her again for three months after that terrible conversation. Dumbledore had reassigned him to the Underground.

Remus recalled his shock at the sight of her at their next meeting. She had completely changed. Physically, and from the storms that seemed to be brewing just behind her eyes, emotionally as well.

She was wasting away. Wasting away for him. She had approached him after the Order had dispersed that night to explain how she had missed him, worried for him, pined for him. Once again, he told her nothing could become of her feelings.

A small smile crossed Remus’ face in the dark. Molly Weasley’s flushed face floated to the top of his memory. She had been very put-out with Tonks’ behavior. And, of course, she completely blamed him.

Remus felt a sudden shiver race up his spine. It was unusually cool out tonight. His robes were damp now from the mist.

Remus replayed last night’s display in his mind. “But I don’t care either, I don’t care!” Her sweet voice. Her pleading eyes. Every bit of her was enough to bring him to his knees. He didn’t know if he could turn her down again.

If Remus was honest with himself, he knew that he had loved her from the beginning. From the very first sight of her. She had smiled, held out her hand, and said “Wotcher, Remus.” – as if they had known each other for years.

He felt a chuckle gather in his throat. But it never came. A flash of light to his left caught his gaze. Hagrid’s front door had opened. Hagrid’s silhouette was covering a much smaller one with a blanket.

There was no way for Remus to know whom was sitting on Hagrid’s step - but somehow he did.

Nymphadora. A warm voice whispered in his head. Tonks . . .

Against his better judgement, Remus stood, straightened his cloak, and began walking toward Hagrid’s hut.

He was moving now, finally. Tonks tightened her grip on the blanket. She heard Hagrid open his back door and shuffle out with a particularly heavy pot.

Tonks leaned forward in the hope of seeing Remus better as he walked down the steps. Then he turned – in her direction.

She quickly leaned back; she realized that he had spotted her when Hagrid had opened the front door.

She considered running into the hut. But isn't this is what you wanted? Her mind argued. To speak with him – to see if anything has changed since last night.

She sat and watched him approach. When he drew close, and the light from Hagrid’s door fell over him, she looked up. “Wotcher, Remus.”

“Hello, Nymphadora,” Remus replied. He still couldn’t see her face clearly from the glare of the light. “May I sit?” he asked, motioning toward the step.

She didn’t reply, just shifted over. He sighed lightly and eased himself down beside her. Folding his hands into his lap, he glanced at her profile. Her lips were tight and her brow creased.

Finally, she spoke softly. “I’m sorry...”

Remus turned completely to face her side. “We’ve discussed our situation before,” he said in a stressed voice.

She released a quiet snort. “Our situation? Is that what we have now? A situation?”

Tonks reached up to tuck back a strand of her limp hair. She turned her head to meet his eyes. She could clearly see the side of his countenance that was facing the hut. His eyes were on the step between them. An overgrown lock of damp hair had fallen onto his forehead. He clearly didn’t know how to respond to her comment.

Sighing, Tonks reached out a small hand and began to brush his lock of hair back. Startled, he flinched slightly and pulled back an inch, leaving her hand suspended between them. His troubled eyes met hers.

Tonks’ jaw had dropped a bit and her eyes were wide. Wide with emotion. Remus felt a rush of warmth spread throughout his body - starting in his chest and ending at his finger tips and toes. Her eyes were bright with warm affection.

Tonks saw him flinch away. But she couldn’t ignore the longing look in his eyes. Slowly, like approaching a shy animal, she leaned forward again. This time he didn’t move away.

Remus slowly released the breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. Her hand felt so good, running from his hairline to the back of his neck. He dropped his gaze back to the step.

When her hand reached the back of his head, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. She nestled her small, warm hand into the hair at the top of his neck. “Remus...” she uttered, scooting toward him. She wanted him to meet her eyes again.

But, instead of looking up, he stunned her with a sudden harsh sob. Remus melted forward, wrapped his arms around her waist and placed his head in her lap. Another rough sob rushed out of his throat, releasing all of his loneliness and pain.

“Oh... Remus,” Tonks choked out. She released her grip on her blanket with her other hand and gathered him close. Remus began to shiver.

Tonks reached over to wrap her blanket around him as well. She ran her fingers tenderly behind his ear.

“Tonks...” he breathed.

She felt tears begin to form against her will. “Remus,” she uttered. “What I said – last night – I meant it. Every word, Remus... I – I love you.”

She felt Remus tense. He leaned back until he was sitting up. His arms remained in their position around her waist. “Tonks... ” He said, voice rough.

“Don’t tell me that this is impossible,” she interrupted, tears rushing forward. “Because, it is possible! I love you, Remus. I always will. No matter how old, or how poor, or even how dangerous you become! Nothing will change the fact that I need you.”

Her hands were on his shoulders when she finished. When he didn’t immediately respond, she shook him slightly. “Remus,” she pleaded.

Remus’ amber eyes grew wide. With a trembling hand, he slowly wiped her tears with his calloused thumb. He wanted to do this right. He cleared his throat quietly.

“I love you, Nymphadora Tonks,” he said in a low steady voice. “And... I need you, too.”

He let a shaky smile crawl up his face.

She half sobbed – half laughed, then leaned forward to rest her forehead against his.

Hagrid trudged back up to his back door, rubbing his dirty hands together. His chest ached something fierce. Not only did he lose the most important person in his life last night – he had also lost part of his home. He reached up to the handle on his door and slowly climbed up the back steps.

Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. His front door was open to reveal two figures nestled together under his best blanket. They appeared to be in an exhausted sleep, slumped against one another on his front step. Hagrid recognized the sandy, gray head as Remus Lupin. But the other was unexpected. He had left young Nymphadora Tonks, mousy and tired, on the step before he had left. But now a bright pink head was resting against Lupin’s shoulder.

Hagrid let a great smile crinkle his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, not everything was lost last night. Headmaster Dumbledore had always told him: “Whenever the door closes, you will always find that at least one window remains unlocked.”

Hagrid softly padded over to the bed, picked up another quilt, then headed to the door. He carefully wrapped the slumbering couple with the frayed quilt. He didn’t want them to catch a chill.

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