Chapter Text
When Remus woke up next, it was the late afternoon, and his stomach was hollow from hunger. He groaned as he sat up. Outside his tent, there were footsteps and other noise as the pack went about their day, but they kept a reasonable distance from Remus’ tent.
He ran a hand over his face. He had slept for hours, but his hunger made the idea of getting up sound exhausting. Not that he had a choice. His one saving grace was that he had a few tins of food in his tent that he hadn’t eaten last time. They wouldn’t last him long, but for one day, at least, he didn’t have to worry about starting a fire if he wanted to eat.
He selected a tin at random, grumbling to himself when he noticed that it was sardines. Nutritionally speaking, it was one of the better options he had, but that didn’t make them taste any more appealing. He’d never had a taste for seafood, and he was already going to have to rely on fish he caught in the nearby stream for many of his meals.
The sardines were gone in less than a minute. Remus’ stomach gurgled with the sudden fullness. Remus tapped the tin with his wand to vanish it before he stepped out of the tent, his wand safely stowed away to avoid attracting attention.
A few heads turned his way when they heard him unzipping his tent, but they went back to their conversations just as quickly.
Walter sat on the same log as yesterday, looking more comfortable than anyone should be on such a rough seat. He observed Remus with passing amusement. “You hardly look better than you did earlier.”
Remus rolled his eyes. It wasn’t worth arguing that he was fine. Finally able to straighten up to his full height outside the tent, he stretched his limbs. He hadn’t realised how spoiled he was getting sleeping at Grimmauld Place. His mattress there might have been two decades old, but it was worlds away from the forest floor.
“I suppose I won’t be getting the story of where you’ve been off to,” Walter said, his tone not portraying any curiosity.
Remus did his best not to stiffen or toss a paranoid look over his shoulder to see if others were listening in.
“I thought we didn’t question people about their private lives here,” he said, trying to sound amused instead of worried.
Walter shrugged. “Typically, we don’t. I’ve never been sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.”
He was quiet for a moment, tilting his head back to look at the canopy of trees. Remus mimicked him, but there was nothing up there except branches and leaves. Remus couldn’t even spot a stray bird. When he looked back down, he caught Walter looking at his left hand before he snapped his gaze away.
Remus stiffened. It hadn’t occurred to him to hide the new red ring around his finger. He crossed his arms against his chest to hide his left hand despite knowing how suspicious it looked when Walter had already seen the ring. It had probably been visible when Remus first arrived to the campsite too. In his rush to get away from London and back to the pack, he’d never considered how to handle this new development.
Had Dumbledore considered it? He hadn’t said anything to Remus at Grimmauld Place about what he should do. Other members of the pack had rings themselves, including Walter, but the sudden appearance of Remus’ would certainly raise their curiosity, whether or not they asked him about it.
“Have I told you about when I was bitten?” Walter said suddenly.
Remus swallowed. “You told me you had a wife, but I know you joined the pack not long after your first full moon.”
Walter nodded. He didn’t look the least bit disturbed by the mention of his first full moon despite it being a touchy subject for most wolves. He had a faraway look in his eye like he no longer saw Remus.
“Back then, I didn’t fully understand what was happening to me. I’d heard of werewolves, of course. Even Muggles have a vague idea of what lycanthropy is, but I never believed the stories. I had a hard time accepting that a werewolf bit me. It was somehow easier to convince myself that a regular old wolf had somehow shown up in Cheshire. But the closer it got to the full moon, the more I had to admit that I was a danger to those around me, so I fled. I haven’t spoken to my wife since.”
His gaze snapped back to the present, his eyes latching onto Remus.
“I regret it,” he said. Despite the words, he didn’t sound overly emotional. “By the time I accepted that I’d made a mistake, she had moved. I’ve searched for her since to no avail.”
He looked at Remus’ red ring again.
“Even werewolves get those rings for a reason. I should have trusted mine.”
Remus shifted from foot to foot. Walter may have been older and wiser in many ways, but he didn’t understand the full scope of Remus’ situation, and there was no way for Remus to explain without blowing his cover and potentially putting both himself and the Order in danger.
“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “That had to be hard.”
Walter nodded slowly, but Remus was thankful when he didn’t try to turn his story into a lecture. It was clear enough what point he was trying to make. Remus couldn’t find it in himself to make up a justification for his cowardliness that didn’t reveal too much information.
He set off for the edges of the camp to somewhere where he could be alone.
When it wasn’t a full moon, there was nothing to do out in the woods after dark. None of them wanted to waste the few batteries they had by using their torches unnecessarily, but wood for fires was more readily available. Each night, the pack made one in the centre of the campsite, and those who wanted to cook their food were able to do so while chatting with the others.
Remus did his best to be social and participate. Talking to the pack was the reason he was there after all. His time in the woods meant nothing if he didn’t engage with them, but whatever was happening in the outside wizarding world, this particular pack, at the very least, appeared oblivious to it. There was no talk of Voldemort or his Death Eaters, though Remus was more uncertain than ever about whether it was because they didn’t trust him or not.
He often wondered how lively their conversations were when he wasn’t around. Despite never telling them about his Hogwarts education or the wand he kept safely stowed in his pocket, he couldn’t help but think that they knew or at least suspected. His years of hiding his condition at school hadn’t prepared him to do the opposite for the Order. His only qualification for this mission was that he was a werewolf. Aside from that, he was horribly ill-suited for it.
Still, he did his best. He claimed to have visited Wales while he was gone, the place where he’d grown up. He kept the details just specific enough for it to sound believable. Then, he listened to the stories of the others, trying to keep track of any details that might hint at sympathy towards Voldemort, but there was nothing.
It didn’t take long for him to give up. If he was going to learn anything, it wasn’t going to be on his first night back.
But once he was in his tent, sleep refused to come. He stared up at the ceiling of his tent for what felt like hours, desperately wishing for sleep to come. It wasn’t the pack or the war that kept him awake.
It was Tonks.
He thought about her back at Grimmauld Place. She would have realised he ran a long time ago. Sirius would too. Merlin, he wondered what Sirius would say to Tonks when they both learned that Remus had left in the middle of the night. Remus knew that it wouldn’t be flattering, but he deserved that. Dumbledore had suggested that he say goodbye. Remus had been the one who refused to do even that.
When sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with Tonks injured upstairs, it had been impossible for him to imagine a world where the two of them were simply happy together. Even in a far off future where they’d won the war, his condition would always mean that he was on the fringes of wizarding society, something that Tonks didn’t deserve.
Being back with the pack was another potent reminder that he didn’t belong with them either. In a twisted way, he wasn’t enough of a werewolf for them to accept him with open arms. He was destined to be on the outside no matter where he went or who he was with. Even in his happiest years at Hogwarts, that knowledge had haunted him in his darkest hours.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but all he could see was Tonks smiling face as she sat across from him on their dates. She knew he was a werewolf, and it had never bothered her, but she hadn’t experienced the full scope of the difficulties that Remus faced. What she thought and believed for the moment had little bearing on what she would think in the future.
They were soulmates though. Remus rubbed at his left ring finger, where he knew the red ring was even if he couldn’t see it in the dark. It was a connection that he’d always found inspiring. He remembered the day James and Lily got their rings. After years of their back-and-forth, it had felt almost cathartic to see a tangible acknowledgement of their connection. If even Remus thought that, he couldn’t imagine what it was like for James and Lily themselves. It had always been clear to him that the universe knew what it was doing when it paired people like that.
Yet it was impossible to accept that the universe was also right about himself. It just didn’t seem feasible for Remus to get that. He grit his teeth. He could imagine Sirius’ protests if he heard Remus’ negative thoughts. He’d go on about how great of a catch Remus was, and not a single one of his reassurances would actually make Remus feel better. Nothing ever did. He’d struggled through far too many years trying to fit in within wizarding society for mere words to make any difference.
None of that changed the red ring around his finger. None of it erased the bond that the universe had connected him and Tonks with. That wasn’t words, but it was a physical reminder of a connection that was meant to mean something, and Remus might have irrevocably damaged that by running away.
He’d subjected himself to humiliation many times over the years, particularly when he’d applied to job after job despite knowing his lycanthropy would be thrown in his face every single time. He’d done it because he needed to survive, but how could he not risk the same for a connection that he’d longed for his entire life?
Before he knew what he was doing, he was sitting up in the tent and shoving his things back into his bag.
When he emerged from his tent, the fire had been long extinguished, with the other wolves tucked into their own tents. No one was awake to see Remus leave.
Sirius was at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place when Remus carefully cracked the door open and slipped inside. He looked up at Remus slowly, a glass of firewhisky in front of him on the table.
He scoffed as Remus slumped into the chair across from him. “You are an idiot,” he muttered. He pulled out his wand, and with a quick flick, the open bottle of firewhiskey slid across the table to Remus. A second later, an empty glass appeared in front of him.
Remus ignored them both. “Did Tonks leave?”
Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re asking now? When you up and left in the middle of the night after she was injured?” He tossed back another mouthful of firewhiskey. “She’s fucking livid, mate. Not surprised she has that kind of temper on her, with Andromeda as a mother. I’d tread lightly if I was you.”
The firewhiskey looked a bit more tempting, but Remus continued to ignore it. Alcohol was the last thing he needed.
“She’s gone,” Sirius continued. He tilted his glass back and forth, watching the liquid slosh from side to side. “I’m meant to tell her if you come back. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if you would. Dumbledore said you went back to the pack.”
“He asked me to.” Remus didn’t need to add that it had been his idea to go without saying goodbye. Sirius knew that well enough anyway. “After that battle, we need to know if You-Know-Who is making any headway with the wolves.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Yet here you are again.” He brandished his glass in Remus’ direction.
“Here I am,” Remus muttered. “I couldn’t stand it… I know Tonks can take care of herself, but I wanted to know for sure that she’s okay.”
“She can take care of herself, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t want you here.” Sirius peered at him through narrowed eyes. “The two of you are just getting to know each other. I didn’t think you’d give her a crash course on your self-hating tendencies quite so soon.”
Beneath the table, Remus’ fingertips tug into his thighs, but there was no use denying that much of his life was a struggle with self-hatred. How could it not be, with him being what he was? The only werewolf he’d ever met who was happy to be one was Fenrir Greyback, and it wasn’t like that monster was someone who Remus aspired to be.
“I need to talk to her,” Remus said.
Sirius shrugged. “Did she tell you her address? Because I don’t know it.”
She hadn’t. It had never seemed particularly important. If she had invited him over, Remus certainly would have balked much sooner than he had. It had been overwhelming enough to go on dates after a lifetime of avoiding that very thing.
“Write her a letter.”
Remus’ gaze snapped to Sirius, who was watching him thoughtfully.
“Write her a letter,” he repeated with a shrug. “You don’t know her address, but an owl will be able to find her. It’s probably better anyway. Gives her the chance to initiate the actual conversation, so when she wants to talk, there’ll be a better bet that she’ll be in a forgiving mood.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “When did you get so wise about this sort of thing?”
“I learned that from James.” Sirius smirked. “Remember when him and Lily got in that massive fight the summer right after seventh year?”
He did remember. James had sulked for over a week, terrified that he’d ruined his relationship with Lily. Now that Sirius mentioned it, Remus did vaguely remember a letter being involved in their makeup, but the fact that Sirius remembered that over a decade and a half later was a surprise.
Often, Remus felt like much of his memories from that time were foggy, and they got foggier every day. It wasn’t something he liked to dwell on, especially not the knowledge that, someday, he might not be able to remember his late best friends’ faces much at all.
“I’ll write a letter,” he said. He couldn’t get sucked into the past when he needed to work on the present.
Sirius drew his wand from his pocket again, and a sheet of parchment, a quill, and some ink appeared on the table in front of Remus, who stared at it in surprise. Sirius leaned across the table, his gaze intense for the amount of firewhiskey he must have drunk.
“Please don’t screw this up for yourself, Remus.”
Too stunned to do anything else, Remus nodded and picked up the quill.
Remus’ hand shook as he wrote a letter to Tonks, but he forced himself to complete the painful process. His worst fear was that Tonks would never write back, so he spent the time after he sent it playing Exploding Snap with Sirius and trying to pretend that they were as carefree as their Hogwarts days.
When a response from Tonks came only a few hours after he sent his letter, he nearly fell off his chair in the sitting room in his rush to get to the window.
After that, everything was a blur. Sirius had pushed him out the door, urging him to go to his soulmate and make things right, and before Remus knew it, he was standing at the door of Tonks’ flat, his heart racing in his chest and with no idea over what he was going to say.
It only took one knock before Tonks opened the door. Her hair was a mousy brown colour instead of the bubblegum pink colour he’d grown used to seeing her with. His stomach churned at the physical sign that he’d affected her far more than he meant to.
She crossed her arms against her chest and leaned against the doorframe instead of letting him in, but at least she’d written back and asked him to come. That had to mean something.
“I’m surprised you came back,” she said, her voice trembling even though he could tell that she was trying to hide it. “Sirius said you would when he realised you were gone, but I didn’t believe him.”
Remus’ cheeks grew worn. He picked at a stray thread at the hem of his shirt. “I’m so sorry, Tonks. I know that doesn’t mean much after everything that happened, but I am. Sirius might have also told you that I have a terrible habit of distancing myself from people.”
Tonks nodded slowly. “He did mention that, yeah. He said you were a stupid bugger who never bothered to accept his own worth actually.”
Remus closed his eyes. As much as it hurt to hear it said out loud, it wasn’t something he could deny. “He’s right. My entire life, I was convinced I’d never have a soulmate. I thought I was too dangerous to be someone’s partner. Not just because of the full moon but because, even in more peaceful times, I don’t live a peaceful life.”
“Peaceful is overrated.”
Remus stared at her for a long moment, trying to decide whether he could trust that statement. It was nice enough to say in the moment, but he still had a hard time believing she’d be that blasé about it years down the road after witnessing everything he had to go through.
No, he tried to push those thoughts from his head. He couldn’t think like that. Those kinds of thoughts were what got him into trouble in the first place. He had to trust that the universe knew what it was doing by giving him and Tonks rings. But old habits die hard.
“I’m afraid that you don’t understand what you’re getting into, and that you’ll regret it when you do.”
For a second, it was quiet. Remus stared at the floor, unable to stomach any indecision that might be recognisable on Tonks’ face. The door swung open further, and Remus looked up right as she stepped forward and took his hand.
“Maybe I don’t fully understand,” she said, running her thumb along his skin. “It’s hard to know everything when I haven’t seen it for myself yet. There are some things that may at least help me understand a bit though? There are some people who sneer at my mum in Diagon Alley because they know she’s a Black. It doesn’t matter to them that she was disowned and hasn’t spoken to any of them in years.
“And you’d be surprised at how vitriolic some people, especially children, can be towards a metamorphmagus. Not that it can come close to what you’ve experienced,” she rushed to add, “but I do have some experience dealing with the shitty opinions of other people. And I can promise you that I’ve never let it stop me before.”
Remus was speechless. She was standing close enough to him that it was intoxicating. Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward, and Tonks met him halfway in a kiss. It was quick and chaste. Remus became aware far too quickly that they were still standing in the doorway, and he glanced self-consciously over his shoulder as they pulled away.
Tonks grinned. “Do you promise not to run away again?”
There was no real decision to be made. “I promise.”
He would resist any fears that told him to do otherwise if it was the last thing to do.
Tonks nodded slowly and began to back into her flat, tugging Remus with her. He came easily.
“That’s all I need.” She smiled up at him, but there was no mistaking the sadness that was there too. “With the war and everything going on, I don’t want to waste any time being mad at you.”
Remus swallowed against the knot in his throat and nodded, closing the door behind him with a click. “I don’t want to either.”
He tightened his grip on her hand, resolving himself to never letting go again.