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shimotsukiWhat? Another one? Well, sort of -- this installment is actually a revision and slight expansion of two of my very oldest R/T ficlets. (And if anyone who has read my later DH stories is wondering why Andromeda and Remus are getting along so well here, don't worry; there's another story coming that will take care of that. ;) )
Clearing the Table (2914 words | PG)
Andromeda had always hoped that Nymphadora would bring someone special home for dinner someday, but when that day comes, her daughter’s choice of guest is quite a shock.
Note: This story is largely based on two ficlets that were originally posted at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rt_challenge in January 2007, Absolutely, Positively, Completely Sure and Clearing the Table. However, this version has been updated to fit into the DH-compliant Kaleidoscope timeline -- so, most notably, it's no longer an engagement announcement!
Clearing the Table
Nymphadora, busy filling her plate with a second helping of roast beef, potatoes, and vegetables, gave a happy little sigh. “Dad, you have no idea how much I’ve missed your cooking.”
Andromeda smiled at her daughter. Nymphadora was still too thin, but she looked brighter than she had in weeks. Months, really. Even the garish pink hair was a welcome sight. “It’s nice to have you home for Sunday lunch,” she said. “We haven’t seen much of you lately.”
“Yeah, I know.” Nymphadora looked slightly guilty. “I’ve been busy with work, and...things.”
“Right,” said Ted cheekily, “those things will really fill up your schedule.”
Andromeda shot him a quelling look. The mere fact that Nymphadora had been at Hogwarts that awful night, when Death Eaters attacked the school and Albus Dumbledore was killed, told them all they needed to know about their daughter’s involvement in Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix.
“Actually, I’d like to come again for dinner, sometime soon.”
“Of course, love, any time,” said Andromeda automatically, before she glanced up and saw the all-too-familiar look of stubborn determination on her daughter’s face. Clearly, there was an ulterior motive at play.
She put down her fork and waited.
Nymphadora took a fortifying swallow of wine. “And I’d like to bring someone else.”
Ted’s eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. “Oh? Who would that be?”
Nymphadora smiled, and—to Andromeda’s utter shock—her cheeks turned faintly pink. “Do you remember me talking about my friend Remus Lupin?”
Andromeda narrowed her eyes in sudden speculation. “Someone from work, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” said Nymphadora. “Not from the Ministry, though.”
Ted began to grin. “Are you trying to tell us something, Dora?” he asked, reaching for the butter.
“Well, yes.” Nymphadora went even pinker, but an enormous smile burst forth. “Remus and I are seeing each other.”
“My goodness,” said Andromeda, blinking. Nymphadora had never before shown the slightest sign of romantic interest in anyone. She watched her daughter’s smile turn soft and wistful around the edges and shook her head in amazement. “How long has this ‘seeing each other’ been going on?”
“A little more than a week,” said Nymphadora. “But I’ve known him for nearly two years.”
Ted chuckled. “This must be pretty serious if you’re inflicting us on the poor man after only a week, then.”
Andromeda expected Nymphadora to fire a joke right back at Ted, but she only sat very straight in her chair. “It is.”
Never mind romantic dreaminess—this centred, calm certainty was yet another side to her daughter that Andromeda hardly recognised.
“You’ll like him, both of you,” said Nymphadora, earnestly. “He’s kind, and funny, and clever. And excellent at Defence—he leads missions for, erm, things.”
“Sounds like a good sort,” said Ted.
“He’s conscientious, too.” Nymphadora grimaced. “Maybe a little too conscientious. There are some things I wouldn’t have brought up until after you’d had a chance to get to know him, but Remus insisted I tell you today. Remember that—he insisted that I tell you.”
Andromeda exchanged a look with Ted. “Tell away, then,” she said guardedly.
“Well, he’s a bit older than I am. About thirteen years.”
Andromeda frowned. “That’s quite a bit older!”
Nymphadora rolled her eyes. “It’s not that much. When I’m ninety and he’s a hundred and three, there will hardly be any age difference at all.”
“What does this Lupin do for a living?” Ted took up the interrogation.
“That’s another thing.” A little crease appeared on Nymphadora’s forehead. “It’s not Remus’s fault, but he does have a bit of trouble finding steady work, actually. Right now, he’s spending all his time on—things—and believe me, our side is that much better off for it.”
“What do you mean, trouble finding steady work?” Andromeda leaned forward. What was Nymphadora getting herself into?
“It’s something he can’t help, Mum. He works very hard when someone gives him a chance. But he’s got a medical condition that—well—it means most people won’t hire him.”
This was just getting worse and worse. “An older man with a medical condition? Nymphadora, are you certain this is someone you want to be involved with?”
“Yes, Mum.” Nymphadora’s eyes flashed; for an instant, she looked every inch a Black. “I am absolutely, positively, completely certain. For one thing, I love him. And anyway, his condition isn’t something that really affects him most of the time—people just have an awfully closed-minded attitude...”
“What is his condition, Dora?” Ted pressed. Even he was concerned now, Andromeda was gratified to see.
Nymphadora took a deep breath. “Lycanthropy.”
Ted looked surprised enough, but Andromeda felt cold panic. “My baby girl,” she whispered, gripping the arms of her chair. “Are you telling me you’re willing to risk your health and safety to date a werewolf?”
“Mum, Dad, listen to me.” Nymphadora called up what must be her best intimidate-the-suspect glare. “I am an Auror. Remus is an expert at Defensive magic. We know what we have to do to keep him from being a danger at the full moon. He’s got a secure place to go into isolation, and he’ll be taking Wolfsbane potion—I’ve learned to brew it for him. Besides, Remus has been transforming for more than thirty years, and he’s never hurt anyone, even before Wolfsbane.”
Ted was nodding slowly, looking thoughtful.
“Dumbledore trusted him enough to hire him to teach at Hogwarts,” Nymphadora persisted.
Andromeda stared. “That’s why his name was familiar. He was in the Prophet, wasn’t he? ‘Hogwarts teacher exposed as werewolf!’”
“That’s not the only reason, Mum,” said Nymphadora softly. “You probably heard his name from Sirius.”
Sirius. Andromeda had to look away for a moment. Her favourite cousin had died before his name had been cleared—and before she had even known he was innocent.
Nymphadora’s eyes held an apology, but she pressed on. “Remus was one of Sirius’s best mates at school. They were always together. I know from a story Sirius told that you’ve even met him at least once, at Fortescue’s ice cream parlour one summer.”
Andromeda frowned again, trying to think. “I’m not sure I remember meeting any Remus Lupin.”
Nymphadora smiled, a little sadly. “Sirius called him Moony.”
“Clever nickname,” Andromeda observed. She fiddled with a teaspoon, casting back through memories that she’d tried, for years, to root out. “I think I might remember a friend called Moony. He was a little quiet, but he had a razor-sharp sense of humour.”
Nymphadora reached over and squeezed her hand. “That’s Remus, all right.” Then, suddenly solemn again, she looked straight into Andromeda’s eyes. “He was like a brother to Sirius. He’s a good man. Won’t you at least meet him before you start worrying?”
“Well,” she said neutrally, “I’d certainly like to have him here for dinner. How about Friday?”
“Erm.” Nymphadora gave an oddly weary half-smile. “Friday’s not so good, actually.”
“Moon a bit too full that night, is it?” Ted shot their daughter a sharp look, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “We’d better get ourselves a lunar chart, I see.”
Andromeda pressed her lips together. “Wednesday, then?”
“Wednesday should be fine. I’ll check with Remus and let you know.” Nymphadora drank another swallow of wine and held the wineglass, twisting it in her hands.
Feeling her way carefully, Andromeda spoke, keeping her voice low. “It’s not only the physical danger, you know. There are certain—social consequences to lycanthropy.”
Nymphadora looked up, and the shadow of pain in her eyes was another surprise in this day of surprises. “Do you think I don’t know that? Remus deserves so much more than what he’s been able to have. He does have good friends, though, people who appreciate him for himself. So we’ll simply have to choose our social circumstances carefully.”
Andromeda couldn’t help shaking her head, just a little. This all sounded like it would be much more difficult than her daughter was acknowledging.
“Mum,” said Nymphadora firmly. “There’s no way I’m going to give this up.” A wry grin emerged. “I’ve just spent the last year convincing Remus that I want to be with him. Compared to that, I’m afraid your arguments don’t stand a chance.”
. * . * .
Andromeda checked on the creamed potatoes as Ted gave the roasting chicken a final baste. It was Wednesday evening, just past seven, but she didn’t really expect Nymphadora to be on time.
Except that, right then, the front door swung open. “Wotcher! We’re here!”
“Hullo, Dora!” Ted banged the oven door closed and hurried out to greet them. Andromeda dried her hands on a tea towel and followed right behind, trying to ignore the cold knot of anxiety that had lodged in her stomach.
Nymphadora was wearing a raucous orange jumper that thoroughly clashed with her bubblegum-pink hair, but she was beaming, and Andromeda had to admit that she looked rather lovely as she performed the introductions. “This is Remus Lupin. Remus, my parents, Ted and Andromeda Tonks.”
Lupin turned out to be tall, and quite thin. Andromeda knew the man was only as old as Sirius, but his greying hair and the lines on his face made him look older than he should. In contrast to Nymphadora’s riot of colour, he was sensibly dressed in a pair of brown trousers and a blue shirt, the collar of which had clearly frayed and been repaired with a very precise Mending Charm.
Andromeda wondered what it meant that his sewing charmwork was so careful—and what it meant that he hadn’t chosen to use an Appearance Charm to hide the repairs altogether.
After a firm handshake and a brief smile, Lupin presented Andromeda with a large bunch of flowers. They were all garden flowers, she noted, mostly daisies and zinnias. But the arrangement was tasteful, and at least he had the sense not to waste money he didn’t have on a florist’s bouquet.
She thanked him, using her best Black manners, and carried the flowers into the kitchen to find a vase.
. * . * .
Dinner was unexpectedly pleasant. Andromeda could feel Nymphadora watching her, but she was careful to be nothing less than gracious toward her daughter’s guest. And Lupin actually proved to be a most interesting conversationalist. He had things to say about a whole range of topics, often with a touch of dry humour, and he was even better at asking the rest of them questions to keep the discussion going. Like most people, Lupin was curious about Ted’s work as a technician for the Wizarding Wireless Network. But even Andromeda found herself telling him quite a bit about Persephone Greengrass’s interior spellwork and decorator business, where she kept the accounts.
Eventually, however, they all seemed to have finished eating, and there was a lull in the conversation.
Andromeda smiled around the table. “Why don’t you three go and sit in the living room while I clear away these things?”
“May I give you a hand?” Lupin offered.
Andromeda studied him for a moment. “Thank you, Remus, that would be nice.”
“Oh, I’ll help too,” said Nymphadora immediately.
But Andromeda shook her head, smiling. “I think two of us are enough, love. Go and keep your father company.”
Nymphadora hesitated. Andromeda saw her daughter’s eyes dart to Lupin, who gave her a slight smile and a tiny nod. Apparently reassured, Nymphadora followed Ted out of the dining room.
Andromeda drew her wand and began stacking the plates to levitate them into the kitchen. Lupin watched for a moment to see what her strategy was and then rounded up the glasses and silverware. He filled the sink with hot water and soap and supervised as the dishes washed and rinsed themselves. Andromeda caught the clean dishes one by one with a quick Drying Charm and sent them back to their places in the cupboard.
They worked in silence for a few minutes, but eventually Lupin turned to face her. The last few dishes, left to themselves, hovered patiently in the soapy water.
“I imagine you must have had quite a shock when Nymphadora told you we were seeing each other,” he said, “with me being what I am.” He straightened his shoulders. “I want to assure you that Nymphadora’s safety and well-being are my highest priority.”
The cold knot in Andromeda’s stomach tightened. No matter how personable a dinner guest this man might be, he was still a werewolf—dangerous to her daughter’s future on more than one level.
“If you really believed that,” she said sharply, “you would keep your distance and leave Nymphadora alone.”
She expected Lupin’s reaction to be angry, or defensive, or hurt. She didn’t expect him to nod slowly and meet her gaze with a sober, forthright expression.
“I used to think that as well,” he said. “All last year.”
Andromeda stared, not bothering to hide her surprise. “What changed your mind?”
“Two things.” His smile was wry. “One was pressure from some dear friends of mine—do you know Molly and Arthur Weasley?”
“Of course,” she replied. “They're older, but we were at Hogwarts together for a while.”
“Well,” said Lupin, looking slightly embarrassed, “they worked out that Nymphadora and I had feelings for each other, even though I was trying to stay away.” He sighed. “They argued with me all year, insisting that the precautions I always take at the full moon would be adequate to keep Nymphadora safe even if we were...together. I refused to listen at first, but eventually I came to see that they were right.”
“How did Molly and Arthur know all this about you two?” Andromeda’s eyes widened. “They’re not—surely they’re not in the Order of the Phoenix!”
A sudden gleam of humour appeared in Lupin’s eye, and he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “I don’t think Dumbledore would have wanted me to answer that question.”
Andromeda shook her head, feeling rather floored. Molly Prewett, the sniffy but timid Gryffindor prefect, and absent-minded Arthur Weasley, in a secret society fighting the Dark Lord? Talking a werewolf into courting my daughter?
“Whatever precautions you take, though,” she persisted, “the risk is not zero.”
The gleam of humour disappeared, leaving Lupin looking very tired. “You’re right. It’s never zero—especially if we consider possible social consequences as well as physical danger.” He sighed again. “So, even with the Weasleys making their case, I wouldn’t have changed my mind, if not for the second reason.”
“And what was that?”
Now the lines in his thin face seemed even more deeply etched, and he looked away for the first time. “My insistence that a relationship could never be possible was making Nymphadora terribly unhappy.”
Andromeda drew a sharp breath as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “You’re telling me that’s what was upsetting her all last year? She was pining after you?”
He smiled, a rueful smile. “Well, she was sad about Sirius too, of course, and her Auror assignment in Hogsmeade put her in the path of dementors far too often. And there’s always Voldemort to worry about. But a lot of it was my fault, I’m afraid. So I—” He shook his head. “I just couldn’t go on letting her feel so unhappy and alone. Not when Molly and Arthur had made me see that the physical risk was actually very small.”
Andromeda gave him a searching look. “You must have been unhappy too, last year, if you’ve cared for Nymphadora all this time.”
Indeed, in his eyes she saw echoes of remembered longing, but he shrugged. “I was prepared for it. I’d always planned to live my life alone, and I expected that decision to be difficult sometimes. The problem was, Nymphadora never asked for that kind of pain.” He smiled, looking inward. “She really let me have it, finally—she said that I was welcome to deny myself anything I liked, but it wasn’t fair to deny her the right to make her own choice.” Now his eyes held a quiet happiness, tinged with awe. “She was right.”
Lupin turned back to the sink and started the last few dishes washing themselves again.
Andromeda watched his precise wandwork and remembered his engaging conversation at dinner. Then she thought about the reappearance of Nymphadora’s pink hair, and the look of joy that had bloomed on her daughter’s face that evening every time she caught Lupin’s eye.
She had always vowed, to Ted and to herself, that she would not make the same mistakes with Nymphadora that her own family had made with her.
After drying the last plate and sending it into the cupboard, she took a deep breath and turned to face Lupin.
“Remus, if you are truly my daughter’s choice, then I will respect that choice.”
Lupin swallowed. “Thank you.”
“Come,” said Andromeda, with a gracious smile that even her own mother would not have found lacking. “Let’s join the others.”
. * fin * .
"Kaleidoscope" series index
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Clearing the Table (2914 words | PG)
Andromeda had always hoped that Nymphadora would bring someone special home for dinner someday, but when that day comes, her daughter’s choice of guest is quite a shock.
Note: This story is largely based on two ficlets that were originally posted at
rt_challenge in January 2007, Absolutely, Positively, Completely Sure and Clearing the Table. However, this version has been updated to fit into the DH-compliant Kaleidoscope timeline -- so, most notably, it's no longer an engagement announcement!Nymphadora, busy filling her plate with a second helping of roast beef, potatoes, and vegetables, gave a happy little sigh. “Dad, you have no idea how much I’ve missed your cooking.”
Andromeda smiled at her daughter. Nymphadora was still too thin, but she looked brighter than she had in weeks. Months, really. Even the garish pink hair was a welcome sight. “It’s nice to have you home for Sunday lunch,” she said. “We haven’t seen much of you lately.”
“Yeah, I know.” Nymphadora looked slightly guilty. “I’ve been busy with work, and...things.”
“Right,” said Ted cheekily, “those things will really fill up your schedule.”
Andromeda shot him a quelling look. The mere fact that Nymphadora had been at Hogwarts that awful night, when Death Eaters attacked the school and Albus Dumbledore was killed, told them all they needed to know about their daughter’s involvement in Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix.
“Actually, I’d like to come again for dinner, sometime soon.”
“Of course, love, any time,” said Andromeda automatically, before she glanced up and saw the all-too-familiar look of stubborn determination on her daughter’s face. Clearly, there was an ulterior motive at play.
She put down her fork and waited.
Nymphadora took a fortifying swallow of wine. “And I’d like to bring someone else.”
Ted’s eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. “Oh? Who would that be?”
Nymphadora smiled, and—to Andromeda’s utter shock—her cheeks turned faintly pink. “Do you remember me talking about my friend Remus Lupin?”
Andromeda narrowed her eyes in sudden speculation. “Someone from work, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” said Nymphadora. “Not from the Ministry, though.”
Ted began to grin. “Are you trying to tell us something, Dora?” he asked, reaching for the butter.
“Well, yes.” Nymphadora went even pinker, but an enormous smile burst forth. “Remus and I are seeing each other.”
“My goodness,” said Andromeda, blinking. Nymphadora had never before shown the slightest sign of romantic interest in anyone. She watched her daughter’s smile turn soft and wistful around the edges and shook her head in amazement. “How long has this ‘seeing each other’ been going on?”
“A little more than a week,” said Nymphadora. “But I’ve known him for nearly two years.”
Ted chuckled. “This must be pretty serious if you’re inflicting us on the poor man after only a week, then.”
Andromeda expected Nymphadora to fire a joke right back at Ted, but she only sat very straight in her chair. “It is.”
Never mind romantic dreaminess—this centred, calm certainty was yet another side to her daughter that Andromeda hardly recognised.
“You’ll like him, both of you,” said Nymphadora, earnestly. “He’s kind, and funny, and clever. And excellent at Defence—he leads missions for, erm, things.”
“Sounds like a good sort,” said Ted.
“He’s conscientious, too.” Nymphadora grimaced. “Maybe a little too conscientious. There are some things I wouldn’t have brought up until after you’d had a chance to get to know him, but Remus insisted I tell you today. Remember that—he insisted that I tell you.”
Andromeda exchanged a look with Ted. “Tell away, then,” she said guardedly.
“Well, he’s a bit older than I am. About thirteen years.”
Andromeda frowned. “That’s quite a bit older!”
Nymphadora rolled her eyes. “It’s not that much. When I’m ninety and he’s a hundred and three, there will hardly be any age difference at all.”
“What does this Lupin do for a living?” Ted took up the interrogation.
“That’s another thing.” A little crease appeared on Nymphadora’s forehead. “It’s not Remus’s fault, but he does have a bit of trouble finding steady work, actually. Right now, he’s spending all his time on—things—and believe me, our side is that much better off for it.”
“What do you mean, trouble finding steady work?” Andromeda leaned forward. What was Nymphadora getting herself into?
“It’s something he can’t help, Mum. He works very hard when someone gives him a chance. But he’s got a medical condition that—well—it means most people won’t hire him.”
This was just getting worse and worse. “An older man with a medical condition? Nymphadora, are you certain this is someone you want to be involved with?”
“Yes, Mum.” Nymphadora’s eyes flashed; for an instant, she looked every inch a Black. “I am absolutely, positively, completely certain. For one thing, I love him. And anyway, his condition isn’t something that really affects him most of the time—people just have an awfully closed-minded attitude...”
“What is his condition, Dora?” Ted pressed. Even he was concerned now, Andromeda was gratified to see.
Nymphadora took a deep breath. “Lycanthropy.”
Ted looked surprised enough, but Andromeda felt cold panic. “My baby girl,” she whispered, gripping the arms of her chair. “Are you telling me you’re willing to risk your health and safety to date a werewolf?”
“Mum, Dad, listen to me.” Nymphadora called up what must be her best intimidate-the-suspect glare. “I am an Auror. Remus is an expert at Defensive magic. We know what we have to do to keep him from being a danger at the full moon. He’s got a secure place to go into isolation, and he’ll be taking Wolfsbane potion—I’ve learned to brew it for him. Besides, Remus has been transforming for more than thirty years, and he’s never hurt anyone, even before Wolfsbane.”
Ted was nodding slowly, looking thoughtful.
“Dumbledore trusted him enough to hire him to teach at Hogwarts,” Nymphadora persisted.
Andromeda stared. “That’s why his name was familiar. He was in the Prophet, wasn’t he? ‘Hogwarts teacher exposed as werewolf!’”
“That’s not the only reason, Mum,” said Nymphadora softly. “You probably heard his name from Sirius.”
Sirius. Andromeda had to look away for a moment. Her favourite cousin had died before his name had been cleared—and before she had even known he was innocent.
Nymphadora’s eyes held an apology, but she pressed on. “Remus was one of Sirius’s best mates at school. They were always together. I know from a story Sirius told that you’ve even met him at least once, at Fortescue’s ice cream parlour one summer.”
Andromeda frowned again, trying to think. “I’m not sure I remember meeting any Remus Lupin.”
Nymphadora smiled, a little sadly. “Sirius called him Moony.”
“Clever nickname,” Andromeda observed. She fiddled with a teaspoon, casting back through memories that she’d tried, for years, to root out. “I think I might remember a friend called Moony. He was a little quiet, but he had a razor-sharp sense of humour.”
Nymphadora reached over and squeezed her hand. “That’s Remus, all right.” Then, suddenly solemn again, she looked straight into Andromeda’s eyes. “He was like a brother to Sirius. He’s a good man. Won’t you at least meet him before you start worrying?”
“Well,” she said neutrally, “I’d certainly like to have him here for dinner. How about Friday?”
“Erm.” Nymphadora gave an oddly weary half-smile. “Friday’s not so good, actually.”
“Moon a bit too full that night, is it?” Ted shot their daughter a sharp look, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “We’d better get ourselves a lunar chart, I see.”
Andromeda pressed her lips together. “Wednesday, then?”
“Wednesday should be fine. I’ll check with Remus and let you know.” Nymphadora drank another swallow of wine and held the wineglass, twisting it in her hands.
Feeling her way carefully, Andromeda spoke, keeping her voice low. “It’s not only the physical danger, you know. There are certain—social consequences to lycanthropy.”
Nymphadora looked up, and the shadow of pain in her eyes was another surprise in this day of surprises. “Do you think I don’t know that? Remus deserves so much more than what he’s been able to have. He does have good friends, though, people who appreciate him for himself. So we’ll simply have to choose our social circumstances carefully.”
Andromeda couldn’t help shaking her head, just a little. This all sounded like it would be much more difficult than her daughter was acknowledging.
“Mum,” said Nymphadora firmly. “There’s no way I’m going to give this up.” A wry grin emerged. “I’ve just spent the last year convincing Remus that I want to be with him. Compared to that, I’m afraid your arguments don’t stand a chance.”
Andromeda checked on the creamed potatoes as Ted gave the roasting chicken a final baste. It was Wednesday evening, just past seven, but she didn’t really expect Nymphadora to be on time.
Except that, right then, the front door swung open. “Wotcher! We’re here!”
“Hullo, Dora!” Ted banged the oven door closed and hurried out to greet them. Andromeda dried her hands on a tea towel and followed right behind, trying to ignore the cold knot of anxiety that had lodged in her stomach.
Nymphadora was wearing a raucous orange jumper that thoroughly clashed with her bubblegum-pink hair, but she was beaming, and Andromeda had to admit that she looked rather lovely as she performed the introductions. “This is Remus Lupin. Remus, my parents, Ted and Andromeda Tonks.”
Lupin turned out to be tall, and quite thin. Andromeda knew the man was only as old as Sirius, but his greying hair and the lines on his face made him look older than he should. In contrast to Nymphadora’s riot of colour, he was sensibly dressed in a pair of brown trousers and a blue shirt, the collar of which had clearly frayed and been repaired with a very precise Mending Charm.
Andromeda wondered what it meant that his sewing charmwork was so careful—and what it meant that he hadn’t chosen to use an Appearance Charm to hide the repairs altogether.
After a firm handshake and a brief smile, Lupin presented Andromeda with a large bunch of flowers. They were all garden flowers, she noted, mostly daisies and zinnias. But the arrangement was tasteful, and at least he had the sense not to waste money he didn’t have on a florist’s bouquet.
She thanked him, using her best Black manners, and carried the flowers into the kitchen to find a vase.
Dinner was unexpectedly pleasant. Andromeda could feel Nymphadora watching her, but she was careful to be nothing less than gracious toward her daughter’s guest. And Lupin actually proved to be a most interesting conversationalist. He had things to say about a whole range of topics, often with a touch of dry humour, and he was even better at asking the rest of them questions to keep the discussion going. Like most people, Lupin was curious about Ted’s work as a technician for the Wizarding Wireless Network. But even Andromeda found herself telling him quite a bit about Persephone Greengrass’s interior spellwork and decorator business, where she kept the accounts.
Eventually, however, they all seemed to have finished eating, and there was a lull in the conversation.
Andromeda smiled around the table. “Why don’t you three go and sit in the living room while I clear away these things?”
“May I give you a hand?” Lupin offered.
Andromeda studied him for a moment. “Thank you, Remus, that would be nice.”
“Oh, I’ll help too,” said Nymphadora immediately.
But Andromeda shook her head, smiling. “I think two of us are enough, love. Go and keep your father company.”
Nymphadora hesitated. Andromeda saw her daughter’s eyes dart to Lupin, who gave her a slight smile and a tiny nod. Apparently reassured, Nymphadora followed Ted out of the dining room.
Andromeda drew her wand and began stacking the plates to levitate them into the kitchen. Lupin watched for a moment to see what her strategy was and then rounded up the glasses and silverware. He filled the sink with hot water and soap and supervised as the dishes washed and rinsed themselves. Andromeda caught the clean dishes one by one with a quick Drying Charm and sent them back to their places in the cupboard.
They worked in silence for a few minutes, but eventually Lupin turned to face her. The last few dishes, left to themselves, hovered patiently in the soapy water.
“I imagine you must have had quite a shock when Nymphadora told you we were seeing each other,” he said, “with me being what I am.” He straightened his shoulders. “I want to assure you that Nymphadora’s safety and well-being are my highest priority.”
The cold knot in Andromeda’s stomach tightened. No matter how personable a dinner guest this man might be, he was still a werewolf—dangerous to her daughter’s future on more than one level.
“If you really believed that,” she said sharply, “you would keep your distance and leave Nymphadora alone.”
She expected Lupin’s reaction to be angry, or defensive, or hurt. She didn’t expect him to nod slowly and meet her gaze with a sober, forthright expression.
“I used to think that as well,” he said. “All last year.”
Andromeda stared, not bothering to hide her surprise. “What changed your mind?”
“Two things.” His smile was wry. “One was pressure from some dear friends of mine—do you know Molly and Arthur Weasley?”
“Of course,” she replied. “They're older, but we were at Hogwarts together for a while.”
“Well,” said Lupin, looking slightly embarrassed, “they worked out that Nymphadora and I had feelings for each other, even though I was trying to stay away.” He sighed. “They argued with me all year, insisting that the precautions I always take at the full moon would be adequate to keep Nymphadora safe even if we were...together. I refused to listen at first, but eventually I came to see that they were right.”
“How did Molly and Arthur know all this about you two?” Andromeda’s eyes widened. “They’re not—surely they’re not in the Order of the Phoenix!”
A sudden gleam of humour appeared in Lupin’s eye, and he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “I don’t think Dumbledore would have wanted me to answer that question.”
Andromeda shook her head, feeling rather floored. Molly Prewett, the sniffy but timid Gryffindor prefect, and absent-minded Arthur Weasley, in a secret society fighting the Dark Lord? Talking a werewolf into courting my daughter?
“Whatever precautions you take, though,” she persisted, “the risk is not zero.”
The gleam of humour disappeared, leaving Lupin looking very tired. “You’re right. It’s never zero—especially if we consider possible social consequences as well as physical danger.” He sighed again. “So, even with the Weasleys making their case, I wouldn’t have changed my mind, if not for the second reason.”
“And what was that?”
Now the lines in his thin face seemed even more deeply etched, and he looked away for the first time. “My insistence that a relationship could never be possible was making Nymphadora terribly unhappy.”
Andromeda drew a sharp breath as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “You’re telling me that’s what was upsetting her all last year? She was pining after you?”
He smiled, a rueful smile. “Well, she was sad about Sirius too, of course, and her Auror assignment in Hogsmeade put her in the path of dementors far too often. And there’s always Voldemort to worry about. But a lot of it was my fault, I’m afraid. So I—” He shook his head. “I just couldn’t go on letting her feel so unhappy and alone. Not when Molly and Arthur had made me see that the physical risk was actually very small.”
Andromeda gave him a searching look. “You must have been unhappy too, last year, if you’ve cared for Nymphadora all this time.”
Indeed, in his eyes she saw echoes of remembered longing, but he shrugged. “I was prepared for it. I’d always planned to live my life alone, and I expected that decision to be difficult sometimes. The problem was, Nymphadora never asked for that kind of pain.” He smiled, looking inward. “She really let me have it, finally—she said that I was welcome to deny myself anything I liked, but it wasn’t fair to deny her the right to make her own choice.” Now his eyes held a quiet happiness, tinged with awe. “She was right.”
Lupin turned back to the sink and started the last few dishes washing themselves again.
Andromeda watched his precise wandwork and remembered his engaging conversation at dinner. Then she thought about the reappearance of Nymphadora’s pink hair, and the look of joy that had bloomed on her daughter’s face that evening every time she caught Lupin’s eye.
She had always vowed, to Ted and to herself, that she would not make the same mistakes with Nymphadora that her own family had made with her.
After drying the last plate and sending it into the cupboard, she took a deep breath and turned to face Lupin.
“Remus, if you are truly my daughter’s choice, then I will respect that choice.”
Lupin swallowed. “Thank you.”
“Come,” said Andromeda, with a gracious smile that even her own mother would not have found lacking. “Let’s join the others.”
"Kaleidoscope" series index
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Date: 2010-07-01 05:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-01 12:06 pm (UTC)Ted and Andromeda's reaction to Remus is something I've always struggled to get my head around, but I like your version very much indeed.
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Date: 2010-07-01 02:16 pm (UTC)This was... startlingly well written. Loved the insights by Lupin and by Andromeda. Very well done.
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Date: 2010-07-01 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-01 02:33 pm (UTC)I think there are a lot of ways to do the Tonkses that fit with canon (in particular, how much of a history they have with Remus), but I'm glad you think this version works. I'm getting awfully fond of this Andromeda, actually. ;)
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Date: 2010-07-01 02:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-01 03:41 pm (UTC)Ted, as I always imagined, seems very earthy, not at all the kind of person Andromeda's family would have wanted her to marry, and Tonks very like him. A nice change not to see the father in the stereotypical "not good enough for my daughter!" role. I'm interested to see what you do with him, as it still strikes me so odd what JKR did with him in the book!
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Date: 2010-07-01 05:01 pm (UTC)I'm still feeling my way with Ted a little -- and I'm going to have to reread DH to really pin down his timeline (*sigh*) -- but in this ficverse he's much more relaxed than Andromeda, and this lets him act more generously. (I've made him a WWN tech for a reason, though. Hee. And speaking of non-stereotypical roles, I've thought for a long time it would be fun if he were the one Tonks got her love of cooking from.)
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Date: 2010-07-02 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-02 03:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-02 05:12 pm (UTC)Now, I like your fanfic in general, but your Andromeda is pretty much my favourite in fandom.
I keep trying to explain why, but the heat is eating my brain. Gah.
(But she just notices everything, doesn't she?)
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Date: 2010-07-02 05:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-03 10:15 am (UTC)This line really struck me
and what it meant that he hadn’t chosen to use an Appearance Charm to hide the repairs altogether.
Because I hadn't really considered that before. Why couldn't he just charm his clothes to look new? The limits of magic are so interesting to consider.
I think the conversation between Remus and Andromeda is very understated but actually says a lot and I can see how it sets up their relationship for the future. She's not happy about it, but slightly reassured that Remus shares her concerns, but at the same time the reasons for Remus' change of mind are not enough for her. Molly and Arthur's opinion would not affect her and although she would want Tonks' happiness, I think she would see the overview of pain now for happiness later (I can't remember if you're a Buffy fan or not, but there was a similar conversation between Buffy's mum Joyce and Angel in one episode about Buffy's view being clouded by love for Angel whereas Joyce could see the things she'd miss by being in love with him).Anyway I just thought this section was really well played.
I'm loving these updates from you! We need more R/T in the world!
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Date: 2010-07-03 10:46 pm (UTC)I always wondered what exactly a parent's reaction would be if they found out their daughter was dating a werewolf. Fortunately for Ted and Andromeda, Tonks was honest with them and Remus is a delightful and decent man.
This was lovely and I hope you write more, soon! :)
Thanks!
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Date: 2010-07-04 10:31 pm (UTC)I'll be very interested to see what you do with the job Ted has. And Tonks and Remus as a couple at last are wonderful as glimpsed through Andromeda's observant eyes. It's lovely to think of Remus looking back on Tonks' arguments about her right to choose with happiness and awe.:D
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Date: 2010-07-05 04:53 pm (UTC)lets face it, no matter how much we love him, Remus isn't exactly good on paper is he??
*snort* Exactly. But also, you've picked up on what I wanted to show here -- that Andromeda and Ted trust their daughter enough to give Remus a chance. At the same time, Remus knows perfectly well he's on the knife's edge with them, and so this sets them all up for some difficult situations as DH progresses. :(
Why couldn't he just charm his clothes to look new?
This question has been bothering me since PoA, heh. *cough*plothole?*cough* Maybe the charms are temporary, and Remus figures it's better to look shabby all the time than to have a spell suddenly fail and show that he was trying to hide it? Maybe it's some weird point of pride with him?
I do think Andromeda has a better idea than Tonks of what the social risks are. Not that this would have stopped Tonks, bless her heart. (And I don't really know the Buffyverse well, but I can definitely see the parallels with the scene you describe.)
Thanks again for reading, and I'm looking forward to more R/T from you, too! Good luck with the writing.
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Date: 2010-07-05 04:54 pm (UTC)I think Andromeda and Ted are ready to give Remus a chance at this point. It's too bad all the problems at the beginning of DH are going to get in the way...
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Date: 2010-07-05 05:07 pm (UTC)Your remarks about the differences between Ted and Andromeda here are spot-on with what I was trying to do, which is always reassuring!
I'll be very interested to see what you do with the job Ted has.
I keep putting off tackling the post-"Breaking Point" Ted storyline, because
there are so many Order-related plotholes thatit's going to require that I reread DH to keep everything straight, heh. But I'll get there.It's lovely to think of Remus looking back on Tonks' arguments about her right to choose with happiness and awe.:D
Our two are kind of cute here, aren't they! ;) I hope this isn't beyond my skills, but I'm trying to do two "waves" in the relationship, the first one being post-hospital-wing where Remus is letting himself get carried along by his joy in the developing relationship without really having faced his deepest fears, and the second after his DH meltdown where they're finally able to build something solid.
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Date: 2010-07-08 09:19 pm (UTC)This f-lister would be very happy if you posted an R/T fic for her to look forward to every day. Though I suspect you wouldn't be quite so thrilled with that timetable. ;)
I like the emo waves thinking, which makes a lot of canon sense!:D
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Date: 2010-07-08 09:52 pm (UTC)Hope you're having time for writing (and I don't mean fic). ♥
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Date: 2010-07-09 03:01 pm (UTC)Hope you're having time for writing (and I don't mean fic).
That hollow laugh you hear is mine. Am just doing an update so I won't bore you twice over, but let's say a lot of other things conspire to get in the way. I'm still plodding along with it in-between and thinking that if you can find time, then I surely must. See, you're an inspiration!:D
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Date: 2010-07-09 05:31 pm (UTC)Ohhhh, dear. :(
if you can find time, then I surely must
Ah, but remember -- it's summer, which means no grading! (And even so, I'm writing fic instead of sorting through accumulated crap in the house, or doing any number of useful things I was so sure I was going to do this summer. Don't use me as a role model -- you'd be very sorry, very quickly, heh.)
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Date: 2010-07-23 07:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 02:54 pm (UTC)I have always wondered why Remus didn't use more in the way of Appearance Charms to hide his shabbiness and prevent the kind of ridicule he gets from Draco Malfoy in PoA. I think I've decided that it has something to do with his pride; maybe he felt that as long as he was lying about his lycanthropy, it somehow wasn't right to lie about his poverty as well? And then the habit persisted even after his condition was known, I suppose. I'm still sort of working this out for myself, to be honest.
Andromeda really fascinates me -- someone raised in the same (toxic) environment as Bellatrix, who was nevertheless willing to toss it all away and marry a Muggle-born. As much as I respect Sirius for turning his back on his parents, I think Andromeda may have been even braver; she made her choices from inside Slytherin House.
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Date: 2010-10-01 01:18 am (UTC)One bit I really like is "“My goodness,” said Andromeda, blinking. Nymphadora had never before shown the slightest sign of romantic interest in anyone." She's had so many previous boyfriends invented for her in fanon, quite reasonably so, but that detail just strikes me as so genuinely Tonksian.
Also really love Ted's "we'll have to invest in a lunar chart" comment, the way he understands so readily that this fellow of Dora's is definitely going to be in their lives for a while -- despite everything that's been loaded on him in the past five minutes. So practical! (No wonder Andromeda liked him!)
But my favorite line of all actually has to do with the Weasleys, and is coloring my whole understanding of *their* characters:
Andromeda shook her head, feeling rather floored. Molly Prewett, the sniffy but timid Gryffindor prefect, and absent-minded Arthur Weasley, in a secret society fighting the Dark Lord? Talking a werewolf into courting my daughter?
Just awesome.
You know, you have me wondering about the whole possibility of Appearance Charms (and their lack) as well. My critical-creative thinking is not helped on this front by my brain retorting: "Lupin doesn't use them because Rowling's canon requires him to look the part." And yet... and yet... as you hint in here, something about it does make an odd sort of sense with his character, doesn't it? Only in a way one can't pin down? He's not so honest a chap that I can convince myself that it's simply being genuine. I don't think it's merely his relative (relative) lack of vanity either, though that is part of it. Hmmmm.
But you and I between us have gotten me derailed. Great little fic -- well done.
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Date: 2010-10-01 02:43 am (UTC)She's had so many previous boyfriends invented for her in fanon, quite reasonably so, but that detail just strikes me as so genuinely Tonksian.
Glad you like this take on Tonks's past. I agree that it also fits her character to give her a backstory with a lot of eclectic experience, but the Tonks in my head was really focused on her Auror ambitions and didn't see herself as the romantic sort until she managed to fall for Remus.
Also glad you liked the bit about the Weasleys! Even a firstie Slytherin would have known who the sniffy Gryffindor prefect was, right? ;)
"Lupin doesn't use them because Rowling's canon requires him to look the part."
Yeah, there's a lot of that in the series, isn't there! (Don't get me started on my issues with the werewolf mission in HBP...) You would think that, given how hard Remus tries to fade into the background, he wouldn't want to stand out by looking so shabby. (Maybe it's something he thinks he deserves for some real or imagined failing? I could sort of buy that, heh.)
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Date: 2010-10-01 03:12 am (UTC)Maybe it's something he thinks he deserves for some real or imagined failing? I could sort of buy that, heh.
It seems like such a facile assessment of the character that I don't like it. On the other hand, I've yet to think of anything that makes more sense. (Also, little as I like the explanation, I was always easily able to see him feeling deeply reluctant, even embarrassed, to get new clothes even if he could, and that does rather fit, doesn't it?)
Unless there are just plain limits to how much you can repair with magic? I can envision magical repairs having a limited life-span -- we've seen wearing-off, decaying charmwork in canon. In that case, I do think that pride, oddly combined with a lack of personal vanity, can explain why Remus wouldn't waste his time constantly renewing charms.
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Date: 2010-10-01 03:28 am (UTC)Perhaps I gave up thinking about magic-rules too soon (in favor of the always attractive option of exploring Remus Lupin's head). Disillusion Charms are detectable if you know what to look for, and an awful lot of the best wizards can probably "see" them. I don't find it hard to believe it's the same for your proposed Appearance Charms, which would be a little like the same in reverse, wouldn't they? And what's the point of masking how very prominently broke you are if most of the sharp-eyed people would know anyway? That's just compounding the shame. Like going bald and getting a toupee.
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Date: 2010-10-02 02:17 am (UTC)Hee. Agreed. (Except that I actually do think his early-DH meltdown can be made to fit his characterization if you squint at it from the right direction...) But two things about the werewolf subplot make no sense to me. First, why do we never hear anything about how it turned out? (Enter the fanfiction, lol.) Second, how was Remus supposed to convince the pack not to follow Voldemort if the alternative under the Ministry was discrimination and mistrust? *sigh* This is why I write him as trying to influence the balance of power among the existing members of the pack, rather than taking on some kind of key role in the pack structure himself.
It seems like such a facile assessment of the character that I don't like it.
I see what you're saying. And I don't think it's accurate to paint Remus as all dark-twisted-soul exclusively -- the man demonstrably has a very resilient sense of humor. That said, there is some darkness there as well, so I could maybe see him feeling most comfortable looking shabby sort of at a subconscious level, not necessarily as the result of systematic thought.
Although actually:
Unless there are just plain limits to how much you can repair with magic? I can envision magical repairs having a limited life-span
...this is actually the reason that I have mostly decided to go with in my own mind. The drawback is that this explanation still doesn't really explain why Remus doesn't at least spiff himself up for his first arrival at Hogwarts, for example.
On the other hand:
I don't find it hard to believe it's the same for your proposed Appearance Charms, which would be a little like the same in reverse, wouldn't they? And what's the point of masking how very prominently broke you are if most of the sharp-eyed people would know anyway? That's just compounding the shame. Like going bald and getting a toupee.
...I really like that explanation, especially the toupee analogy. Hee.
I do have a scene planned in my yet-to-be-written wedding fic where Molly tries to get Tonks and Remus to Charm themselves some fancy wedding clothes, and Tonks refuses on the grounds that she wants their wedding to be completely real, no illusions allowed.
Sorry to stuff your comments thread but I find myself giving this a ridiculous amount of thought and, really, where else am I going to find an audience for it? ;-)
Not in the least -- I think it's fun to discuss
plotholescanon details like this!1/2
Date: 2012-01-31 05:16 am (UTC)My favorite line: [She had always vowed, to Ted and to herself, that she would not make the same mistakes with Nymphadora that her own family had made with her.]
I think this is important, and I think it makes sense. Nobody knows the social ramifications of dating someone that nobody else approves of more than Andromeda. And it's clear that both she and Ted love their daughter very much, and worry about her, as is evidenced when Andromeda asks Harry about Nymphadora and he has to regrettably tell them that he doesn't know about anyone else.
Anyway, this had a lot of nice little things in it, not least of which had to be Andromeda's poise and grace despite all her misgivings. Even I was a tad shocked when she said that if Remus really had Dora's best intentions in mind he would stay away, but at the same time, she wasn't saying it so much to be a prat as she was to be honest. She probably lost everything when she married Ted, and while I'm sure she doesn't regret that, she's afraid for it to happen to her daughter, too, because Andromeda probably only lost her family and maybe a few friends-- there'd be a chance everybody would turn against Tonks.
I also like that, even at the very end, Andromeda is not exactly...accepting. Given all she knows of werewolves (and has been told), it's probably not surprising at all.
Other things I liked:
-Remus not using an appearance charm. I think in the end I agree with the other reviewer who said it'd be like wearing a toupee when you're bald; there is just too big a risk of exposure. With Remus a better analogy might be more like this, though: say you're balding in the front, so you do a combover to try and hide it. The truth is, everyone knows you're balding anyway, and all it takes is a fierce wind or the rain to make you look like a complete fool. I only think it's a slightly better analogy because any seasoned wizard would probably be able to tell he'd charmed his clothing.
Though the Remus in my head lost some of his clothes to the full moon, and after his father's death (as a teenager) he inherited his father's clothing. In this way I like to imagine that Ron and Remus have a bit in common-- both know what it's like to be poor, though after adulthood Remus's situation gets much worse, of course. But they both would know what it'd be like to attend school in second-hand things.
-Mentioning that Andromeda remembers Molly. Assuming that Ted went to Hogwarts, she'd be MORE likely to remember Molly if Ted had been in Gryffindor. Though I'm not sure if his House was ever mentioned. Just a random thought!
- [“Whatever precautions you take, though,” she persisted, “the risk is not zero.”] I think this is pretty much how he feels all through the whole pulling away process. It's not worth it because there's always that small tiny chance that something could go wrong. But in the end, that's a risk worth taking. Why make a firm decision that'll make two people very unhappy? I doubt he could forget about her very easily, ever.
2/2 part ii? no seriously i thought it would all fit :U
Date: 2012-01-31 05:16 am (UTC)Though I usually don't disagree, exactly, with people who think she HAS had quite a bit of experience. I think it could go either way; it's not like we're told in canon one way or another.
-Ted is the good cook!
Also as an aside, I like that Nymphadora is a decent cook, too. That sounds odd to read in a review, probably, but a lot of people seem to write her off as dead clumsy and hopeless at anything even remotely household-y, which I must disagree with. Lots of people are right slobs but can keep an amazingly clean bedroom or desk, and tons of people can clean house like a pro but can't cook a worthwhile bite of food to save their life! :D That, and I like to imagine it's just a small thing she indulges in every now and then when it's worth it. I love to cook, but it's just not much fun to cook for just yourself!