Chapter 12

I’m not going anywhere

Days at the Ministry slipped by in a blur of paperwork, reports, and unexpected meetings — each one more “urgent” than the last.
Tonks buried her head in a parchment and let out a weary sigh.
There was so much to do that the constant pile-up of work felt overwhelming.
But at least it kept her distracted from other worries.
And in a way, that was something she welcomed.

Still, in the few breaks she allowed herself, her mind always drifted back to the same thing: Remus.
That conversation with him lingered in her thoughts like a shadow.
Every time she thought about it, she felt herself tangled in a knot of frustration.

She had only wanted to bridge the gap — to make things between them lighter, less tense — and to stop feeling that he pushed her away every time she tried to take a step closer.
Despite her efforts to be kind and understanding, he had shut her out so abruptly that it made her feel as if anything she said or did would only make things worse.
And that hurt more than she cared to admit.

She huffed for what felt like the hundredth time.
It wasn’t worth it.
If he didn’t want to be friends, she wasn’t going to insist.
Not again.

Besides, she had plenty of work to do… and the more she repeated that to herself, the more she wanted to believe it.
To focus.

On her desk, the piles of parchment kept growing.
She had organized some files, filled out a few reports… but her mind kept wandering, refusing to stay on task.
With a sigh, she pushed back her chair and stood, drawing a deep breath to pull herself together.
If she was going to be here, she had to act like a professional.
Her job as an Auror wasn’t going to give her a break.

By the end of an especially long day — after a tense exchange with a couple of Ministry officials and a small cover-up to protect a member of the Order — Tonks returned to her section.
She dropped into her chair, trying to straighten the piles of papers on her desk, though her thoughts were still elsewhere.
With each mechanical motion, her hands kept turning pages, one after another, without truly seeing them.

“Come on, Tonks,” she muttered under her breath. “Focus. Think about something else. There’s work to do. No time for this.”

She needed something different — a breath of air.

With a determined stride, she made her way to Alastor Moody’s office — where he always stood watch behind his desk, his magical eye spinning restlessly. Her mentor never let his guard down.

“Anything else I can do, boss? Something that doesn’t involve reading, drafting, checking, or filing, I mean,” Tonks asked, trying to keep her tone serious and her expression as neutral as possible.

He didn’t look at her right away. His magical eye swept from side to side before finally fixing on her. He raised an eyebrow, sizing her up.

“Yes, you’ve got something to do,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly. “There’s a meeting tonight at headquarters. You’re expected. Be ready.”

Tonks nodded, though she felt a twinge of reluctance.
She didn’t want to face Remus — not his distant looks, not those walls of his.
But she shook her head, brushing away the thought. Above all, she was an Auror, a professional, and she was here for something greater: to fight Lord Voldemort. Nothing else mattered.

With a resigned sigh, she returned to her desk and focused on the mountain of paperwork she’d left behind, determined to finish her reports before heading out.

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Tonks arrived at Grimmauld Place with a steady stride, though without the carefree spark that usually accompanied her.
Her hands were buried deep in the pockets of her cloak, lips pressed together as if trying to trap her thoughts before they could show on her face.

As she crossed the threshold, she ran into Bill Weasley.
He was leaning casually against the wall, a mug in hand, staring absentmindedly at the sky through a grimy window.
His relaxed posture stood in sharp contrast to the tension weighing on her shoulders.

When he noticed her, Bill raised an eyebrow in mild amusement.
“Well, Tonks — you, without a smile?” he said in his usual easy tone. “And on a good day, too… well, at least it’s not raining.”

Tonks blinked, caught off guard for a moment, but her expression softened.
“You’re right, Bill,” she said with a hint of irony. “Wouldn’t want the good weather to take offense.”

Bill chuckled and slung an arm briefly — but reassuringly — over her shoulders before walking with her into the kitchen.

The room smelled of strong tea and old parchment, with the crackle of the fireplace murmuring in the background.
From his corner, Remus watched the scene quietly.
His fingers tightened around the cup he was holding.
Though Tonks wouldn’t have guessed it, he was just as uncomfortable about the argument they’d had earlier that week.

She felt his gaze.
Her eyes flicked instinctively toward him — but Remus was already pretending to read a document.
For a brief moment, Tonks debated whether to say something or simply ignore him. She chose the latter.
Pushing a rebellious strand of hair from her face, she let out an almost imperceptible sigh and took her seat beside Moody, where the Order meeting was about to begin.

At the center of the table, hunched over a jumble of parchment, sat Sirius, who barely looked up. He seemed restless.
Tonks noticed his fingers drumming on the papers — but they weren’t reports or battle maps.
They were letters. Dozens of them, some folded carelessly, others still sealed with cracked wax. She frowned but decided not to ask.

Moments later, the door opened again, and Snape, McGonagall, and Sprout entered the kitchen.
Without greeting anyone, Snape moved with his usual indifference, his black robes billowing behind him. He took the darkest corner of the room, seating himself behind Lupin.
Sprout, on the other hand, offered Tonks a warm smile from across the room and gave her a discreet wave, which Tonks returned.
McGonagall, her expression grave, greeted the room with a precise nod and sat beside Sirius, studying the parchments before her with an inquisitive air.

Finally, the door opened one last time — Dumbledore had arrived.
The murmur of voices died at once. With his usual calm composure, the headmaster took his seat at the head of the table.

Before he could speak, Sirius broke the silence.
“It’s not fair, Albus!” he burst out, his eyes flashing with anger. “Harry’s alone at Privet Drive — cut off from the wizarding world, with no answers! We can’t just leave him there and expect him to… to cope!”

Dumbledore regarded him steadily, letting him finish before answering in a firm but gentle tone.
“I know it’s difficult, Sirius. But he is still safer with the Dursleys than anywhere else.”

“Safe, maybe,” Sirius shot back, folding his arms, “but miserable. You don’t know Harry.”
He looked around at the others. “He’d tie his trunk to his broom and fly off if he could. It’s what I’d do… what James would have done.”

For a fleeting moment, Tonks could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile cross McGonagall’s face, though she quickly regained her stern composure.

Molly Weasley, who had been silent until then, spoke up with a frown.
“He’s right, Albus. We can’t let him spend the whole summer there. What if they’re not feeding him properly…?”

Her voice faltered slightly. She blushed, realizing how personal her outburst sounded, but didn’t look away.
The worry etched on her face wasn’t that of a member of the Order — it was that of a mother.

Dumbledore gave her a kind smile and nodded once more.
“We’ll fetch him soon, Molly. But we must wait a little longer. Trust me.”

Molly exhaled slowly. Though her expression made it clear she wasn’t entirely convinced, she finally nodded in silence.

The meeting went on, reviewing the rota for Harry’s guard duty.
This week it fell to Mundungus Fletcher, who lazily nodded and let out an unapologetic yawn.
Beside her, Tonks heard her mentor click his tongue in disapproval, and she had to fight back a smile.
Yes — with Mundungus on duty, what could possibly go wrong?

The meeting ended shortly after.
Tonks could feel Remus’s eyes on her — steady, lingering — as though waiting for her to turn around. But she didn’t.
Pressing her lips together, she stood up and left the kitchen without looking back, eager to escape the weight of that charged silence.

As she turned down the hallway toward the front door, a dull pain shot through her leg, followed by a familiar sound.

CRASH.

The troll-leg umbrella stand had found its way into her path. Again.
For a heartbeat, everything went still — expectant, suspended in silence.
And then, as if waiting for the perfect cue, Mrs. Black’s portrait erupted into a shriek.

“FILTHY BLOOD! DISGRACE! TRAITOROUS SCUM!”

Tonks closed her eyes and muttered a curse under her breath just as Sirius appeared, looking thoroughly exhausted.

“Brilliant,” he grumbled, heading straight for the portrait. “Another perfect day in paradise.”

Ignoring the torrent of insults, Tonks bent down, retrieved the blasted umbrella stand, and shoved it back into place with a firm thud.
She let out a sigh — and as she straightened, she found herself face to face with Remus.

He stood a few paces away, watching her with a cautious, almost hesitant expression.

“Tonks,” he said quietly, his voice low and rough.

She held her breath.

“Can we talk for a moment?”

Tonks blinked, caught off guard. Her first instinct was to avoid the conversation entirely — to keep walking, to pretend she hadn’t heard him.
But something in his tone stopped her.

Without a word, she gave a small nod and followed him toward the front door.
A shiver ran down her spine as they stepped out into the cold night air of Grimmauld Square.

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The square, dimly lit by the weak glow of the streetlamps, seemed steeped in absolute silence.
The uneven shadows of the buildings stretched across the deserted street, where cracks and puddles faintly reflected the yellowish light.
The quiet between them was heavy.

Remus, ill at ease in his own skin, kept running a hand through his hair, as if trying to untangle his thoughts.
Tonks followed a few paces behind, watching him from the corner of her eye, unsure what to expect.

Suddenly, he stopped beneath one of the lamps.
His figure was outlined by its pale halo, and the mist of his breath dissolved into the cold night air.
Tonks halted beside him, studying him cautiously. The scene reminded her of the Muggle mystery novels her father used to read. She said nothing, waiting for him to break the silence.

“Tonks,” Remus murmured at last. “I want to apologise for the other night.”

She tilted her head slightly, keeping her gaze on him. His tone wasn’t harsh, but deliberate — as if weighing every word.

“I suppose… it’s been a long time since I’ve spoken about any of this to anyone,” he went on, letting out a brief, forced smile. “You caught me off guard, and I handled it poorly. I had no right to speak to you that way.”

Tonks watched him for a few seconds, considering her reply. Then she shrugged lightly.
“It’s all right,” she said simply. “Not your finest moment, but we all have those days.”

Remus studied her, as if searching her face for any trace of resentment or sarcasm — but found none.

He sank onto a nearby bench with a sigh and inclined his head toward her in a silent invitation. Tonks hesitated a moment, then sat beside him.
Crossing her legs, she turned to face him, waiting for him to go on.

“I’m a werewolf, Tonks. Have been since I was five.”

She nodded.
It wasn’t news to her — but hearing him say it aloud, so plainly and without disguise, tightened something in her chest.
Not from fear, but from understanding how difficult it must be for him to say the words.

Suddenly, guilt eclipsed her pride, and a wave of unease settled over her.
“You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to,” she murmured softly, afraid she’d been too intrusive. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel he had to justify himself to her.

He looked at her and gave a small, enigmatic smile — one that carried his usual melancholy, but also a flicker of amusement.
He didn’t seem angry or bitter. Just tired.

“I want to,” he said simply. “I think you deserve to know. You’re part of the Order, and besides…” — his smile widened slightly — “you’ve been far too persistent not to.”

Tonks raised an eyebrow, unsure whether that was meant as a criticism or a compliment, but decided not to ask.
Instead, she settled more comfortably, ready to listen.

Remus lowered his gaze, clasping his hands together over his knees.
He drew a deep breath and began:

“The full moons… the constant need to isolate myself… the fear, the guilt. I was always alone. Always the different boy — the one standing on the outside, the one who could never really belong anywhere.”
His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper that the cold seemed to swallow.
“People… they don’t understand. They never will.”

As he spoke, Tonks realised this wasn’t just a conversation — it was a confession.
Remus wasn’t merely telling his story; he was opening his soul, laying bare years of silence and solitude, an isolation that went far beyond the transformations.
The whispers, the fear, the sense of being an outcast — all of it had followed him like a constant shadow.
She felt a weight in her chest, not out of pity, but from the raw honesty of his words.

“The life of a werewolf is more than the nights you change,” he said quietly. “It’s living every day with the weight of hiding what you are — because you’re afraid of what people will do if they find out. It’s always been that way. And it always will be.”

When he finally finished, Remus looked up at her, a mixture of expectation and vulnerability in his eyes.
He was searching for something in her expression — disgust, fear, maybe pity.
The things people usually showed once they knew the truth… before they looked away.

But what he found was the opposite.
Tonks didn’t even blink.
Her face showed no hint of indulgent sympathy or the awkward discomfort he’d grown used to.

At last, her lips curved into an honest smile.
“Huh…” she murmured, calm as ever.

There was not a trace of pity in her tone — only a lightness that somehow cut through the weight of his confession.

Remus frowned, thrown off balance. Was that it?
“‘Huh’?” he repeated, incredulous.

He’d expected something more solemn — a reaction that matched the gravity of his words.
Instead, Tonks’s soft laugh broke through the heavy night air like a breath of fresh wind.

“Yes, ‘huh’,” she said with a playful smile, that peculiar spark back in her eyes. “Now I see why you can be so grumpy sometimes. Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

Remus blinked — and before he knew it, a reluctant smile slipped onto his lips.
That simple, untroubled response was the greatest kind of acceptance he could have hoped for.

“You’re impossible, Tonks,” he muttered, laughing despite himself.

“I know,” she replied, feigning pride, the mischievous gleam never leaving her eyes.
“But you know what? I’m not going to stop talking to you, or doing missions with you. And I’m definitely not going to stop making jokes.”

Her eyes found his, her tone softening but firm.
“And besides… I’m not going anywhere.”

She said it loud and clear — exactly what she wanted to tell him.
But a second later, she realised the weight of her words.
Emotion betrayed her before she could control it, and she felt — inevitably — the tips of her hair, green that day, turn a faint shade of red.

For a brief moment, she felt embarrassed, worried she’d been too honest, too forward again.
Afraid he might retreat once more behind his walls.

But Remus didn’t seem to notice.
Nor did he look uncomfortable.
In fact, he didn’t even seem entirely present in the conversation.

He ran a finger along the mended seam of his trousers, lost in thought, still processing what he had just heard.
He had told her his deepest secret, his greatest fear — that constant, gnawing sense of isolation he often couldn’t even put into words.
And she… she had received it with a frank, disarming ease.
A simplicity powerful enough to dismantle any wall.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He swallowed hard, unable to ignore the warmth spreading through his chest at those words.
Suddenly, it was as if time folded in on itself.
For a moment, Tonks wasn’t there in front of him.

He saw Lily.

Lily, her auburn hair catching the sunlight on the edge of the lake.
Lily, arms crossed and brow arched in stubborn defiance, refusing to walk away even when he tried to push her back with cold words and forced distance.
Lily, looking at him with that mix of patience and resolve, repeating over and over that he didn’t have to carry everything alone — that she was there.

“You’re not a monster, Remus.”

He had thought he would never hear words like that again.
That no one else in the world could look at him with that same unwavering certainty — that same stubborn conviction that he wasn’t lesser because of what he was.

But here was Tonks.
With that same unshakable light in her eyes.
And this time, instead of stepping away — instead of pushing her back before she could see too much — he allowed her presence to surround him.

He exhaled, feeling an unexpected sense of relief.
There was something about her — about the way she saw the world — that made everything seem a little less heavy.
And as he watched her smile beneath the trembling glow of the streetlamp, he couldn’t help but think that perhaps her way of facing life was, if not better… at least far more fun.

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🌙 AUTHOR’S NOTE

And finally… the introduction is complete! ✨
From here on, the story truly begins.
This fanfic has the potential to get quite long (yes, very 😅), so I’m asking for a little patience — I promise every step will take us somewhere worth it.

I’ve been looking forward to sharing this scene and slowly introducing Lily.
I’ve always believed she was Remus’s best friend, and this whole idea started from a line in The Prisoner of Azkaban, when Lupin tells Harry:

“Your mother was someone truly remarkable — she could see the light in someone who only saw darkness.”

That line stayed with me. 💔 It sparked the entire sub-plot between Remus and Lily, which I honestly love with all my heart.
(I can’t remember if the line was exactly like that in the book — I’ll have to reread it — but it was enough to light a fire 🔥).

What do you think?
Did you also feel that Remus and Lily were that close? Tell me in the comments 💬

💫 Next chapter, we dive straight into the canon of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
To stay within copyright limits, I’ll simply mention which book chapter we’re in, so you can reread it as you follow this story.

Thank you for coming this far and sharing the journey with me. 🖤
You can see the chapter illustration on my socials — head to Instagram or TikTok to discover:
🎶 Lupin’s Gramophone, a series about music and magical nostalgia,
and the meta comic with Tonks, where I share all the creative doubts and existential ramblings this fanfic keeps giving me.

See you there. ⚡