Chapter 31

Chapter 31:

Thy Eternal Summer

The Ministry meeting room was wrapped in a tense silence, broken only by the scratch of quills against parchment and the occasional murmur of the Aurors present.

The two Russian wizards had returned, this time with an even firmer stance than during their first visit, carrying a briefcase full of documents which they had placed on the table with unmistakable authority.

The British Minister for Magic was present, as was Emmeline’s superior, who watched with a serious expression while she translated, with precision and calm, every word of the conversation unfolding between Kingsley, Moody and the Russians.

Tonks stood in silence with her arms crossed, attempting to focus on her work.
But her eyes kept drifting towards Emmeline.
The way she spoke, with that flawless diction, shifting from English to Russian with ease, her tone firm yet always courteous.
She did not stammer, did not fumble her words, did not trip over her own awkwardness. She was exactly the opposite of her.

Tonks swallowed and looked away, pretending to pay attention to the document one of the Russians had just slid across the table.

—Here is the official repatriation order, signed and sealed —announced Emmeline, after exchanging a few words in Russian with the envoys.

Emmeline’s superior reviewed the document with a critical eye before nodding.
The British Minister for Magic did the same, placing his signature on the final page with a precise flick of his wand.

—Everything is in order —confirmed Kingsley.

Moody grunted in approval.

One of the Russians—the tallest, his expression unreadable—pulled a parchment sealed with wax from his robes and handed it to Kingsley with a solemn gesture.

—An official copy for the archives of the British Ministry —translated Emmeline in a neutral tone.
Kingsley took the document and tucked it away with a slight nod.
Tonks let out a breath she had not realised she had been holding when she saw that, at last, everything was proceeding smoothly.

Minutes later, Mirov was brought out of his temporary cell and escorted towards a room with an enormous fireplace. His wrists were bound with thick magical cords, and his wand was being held by his compatriots. He said nothing, offered no resistance. He simply lifted his chin and allowed the Aurors to surround him, accepting his fate with an unsettling calm.

While Emmeline shook hands with the Russian envoys, her composure impeccable, the youngest of them lingered for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on Tonks. It was not the first time he had looked at her that afternoon, but this time his expression shifted, faintly intrigued, as though he had just noticed something unusual.

Then, with an almost thoughtful gesture, he said something in his own language, without taking his eyes off her.

Tonks frowned, understanding not a single word.

Emmeline, still wearing her diplomatic smile, turned slightly before translating:

—He admires your Metamorphomagus abilities.

Tonks blinked in surprise. She had not made any conscious change to her appearance since she had arrived. Why would her ability have caught his attention?

But just as she looked away, her gaze met her own reflection in a nearby window.

Her hair, which that morning had been electric blue — at least until the Russians had arrived and the meeting had begun — had faded into a greyish, dulled shade, as if something inside her had been slowly draining away.

Her stomach tightened.

She looked away quickly, just as the fireplace flared to life with green flames. One of the Russian wizards spoke a few words in his language and, with a final courteous nod, guided Mirov into the Floo Network. Within seconds, the foreigners had vanished.

Tonks clenched her fists.

A sharp flicker of irritation at herself ran through her.

She had no reason to feel this way.

After finishing the mountain of paperwork concerning the Russian Death Eater, Tonks was sitting in the break room, her feet resting on the arm of the sofa and Remus’s book in her hands.
She turned the pages absentmindedly, not fully concentrating on the text.

In truth, what entertained her most was not the book itself, but the idea that Remus had chosen it for her. That he had taken the time to look for it, to think she might like it. It was a comforting thought.

And yet, at the same time, she still felt that irritating sting whenever she thought of Emmeline Vance, something that made her frown and wonder what story there really was between them.

—Don’t you ever get tired of reading? —a voice teased beside her.

Tonks looked up and saw Emmeline smiling at her naturally. Her tone was relaxed, friendly, as though she did not notice the tension twisting in Tonks’s stomach.

Before Tonks could answer, Emmeline leaned slightly closer with a soft smile, glanced at the book in her hands and let out a brief, nostalgic laugh.

—That book reminds me of Remus Lupin.

Tonks felt her chest tighten.

—Oh, does it? —she asked, trying to sound casual.

Emmeline sat down beside her on the sofa, her expression almost conspiratorial.

—Yes, I remember it well. Remus Lupin gave it to Lily Evans.

She paused, studying the cover with a faint smile.

—Lily and I were very close at Hogwarts. I remember perfectly how she used to carry this very book everywhere.

Tonks blinked. For a moment, her mind went blank.

—Lily Evans? —she repeated, bewildered.

—Yes. —Emmeline nodded gently—. Remus gave it to her in their final year at Hogwarts. Lily told me it was very special to her. I think it was something they both valued and shared. You know. Something just theirs.

Tonks did not know what to say.

So Remus had not given that book to Emmeline.
He had given it to Lily Evans.

To Lily Evans, who had been in love with James Potter.
James Potter, who had been hopelessly in love with Lily Evans. Harry’s parents.

She had no idea what that meant, but somehow it made even less sense.

Unaware of the storm raging through the Auror’s mind, Emmeline glanced at her watch and sighed as she stood up.

—Duty calls —she said, with a trace of resignation, though there was still a smile on her lips.

Tonks looked at her, still half lost in her thoughts. But before she could ask anything, Emmeline pulled something from her robes and showed it to her.

It was a photograph. In it, Emmeline stood beside a kind-faced man and four children, all wearing matching woollen jumpers, probably hand-knitted.

—Being a mother, working at the Ministry and for the Order is exhausting —she commented lightly, though her eyes shone with pride.

Then she shot Tonks a playful look and added:

—And tonight I have a romantic dinner with my husband, so I’d like to have time to get ready.

Tonks watched her in silence. Emmeline looked tired, yes — but she also looked happy. As though she truly loved every part of her life. And suddenly she did not seem so perfect. Only human.

—Your husband? —Tonks asked at last, a little awkwardly.

Emmeline smiled warmly.

—Yes, we’ve been together since Hogwarts. He was the Ravenclaw prefect, in the same year as Sirius, Remus, Lily, James and me. —She shrugged—. I suppose destiny had other plans for me.

Tonks raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what she meant.

Emmeline met her gaze, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

—Remus was my first love —she confessed without drama, almost tenderly—. But some things simply are not meant to be. And, in truth, because that never happened, I grew closer to my husband. And tonight we celebrate twenty years together.

Tonks felt something inside her crumble and rebuild at the same time.

—A whole lifetime —she murmured, without quite knowing why.

Emmeline adjusted her robes in a calm gesture. Before leaving, she turned back to Tonks, her eyes still full of warmth.

—If Remus Lupin gave you this, it must be because you matter to him. He speaks of you often, you know. He seems to hold you in very high regard.

She offered one last smile, winked at her with quiet complicity, and walked away at an unhurried pace.

Tonks remained motionless, the book still in her hands.
Her fingers traced the worn spine almost unconsciously.
She kept staring at the door through which Emmeline had just left.

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Tonks arrived at headquarters with the book tucked under her arm, still lost in her thoughts. She did not know why, but she felt the need to be there. Perhaps, without realising it, she was looking for answers.

As she stepped through the kitchen door, she found Sirius and Remus seated at the table, sharing tea. Both looked up when they saw her enter.

—Nymphadora! —Sirius greeted her with a half-smile.

—Tonks —Remus corrected calmly, offering the Auror a knowing smile.

She returned the greeting distractedly as she draped her cloak over a chair and placed the book on the table. Sirius eyed it with curiosity and picked it up. He let out a low whistle.

—Well, well… what’s this? —Sirius asked, flipping through the pages with a look of surprise. After a few seconds, he turned it towards Remus, one eyebrow raised, amusement glinting in his eyes—. This was your doing, wasn’t it?

Remus rolled his eyes, though a smile escaped him as he gave a slight nod.

—It’s not that surprising, Sirius. It’s a good book.

—Oh yes, a splendid book —Sirius replied with sarcasm, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms—. No doubt it left its mark… on you and on Lily.

Sirius pulled a mock-exasperated face and glanced towards Tonks, who was watching the two of them with an expectant smile.

—All through seventh year they were obsessed with it. They talked of nothing else —Sirius explained, looking at Remus.

Tonks turned to Remus, searching for answers, but he merely shrugged, as though he could not understand why his friend had never read the book despite all his insistence.

—Talking, debating, analysing… —Sirius went on, gesturing theatrically—. And don’t you remember how Lily used to carry it everywhere? She’d recite lines from it as if she were on stage, with that particular blend of drama and mischief that was so very her.

Remus smiled at the memory, his gaze drifting into the past, where everything seemed simpler and full of possibility.

—I never expected Lily to love it as much as I did.

Sirius let out a laugh. Tonks smiled at them both.

—Tonks, I don’t think you quite understand —Sirius said, leaning slightly towards her—. Lily and Remus were something like soulmates. They could spend hours, days, months —whatever it was— talking about anything at all, this book included.

Tonks felt a strange hollowness settle in her stomach.

—Soulmates?

—Yes, they’d spend long afternoons walking by the lake, debating a thousand things, philosophising about life and magic… —Sirius waved a hand dismissively—. It used to get on James’s nerves sometimes.

Remus gave an amused snort.

—I’ve no idea why.

Sirius shot him an incredulous look.

—Remus, please. You were the ideal boyfriend. Calm, thoughtful, attractive, a prefect… And James was a reckless idiot.

Remus smiled without defensiveness, though his expression grew more wistful.

—And he was exactly what Lily needed.

Tonks watched them in silence. There was something in the way Remus spoke about Lily that made her understand just how important she had once been to him.

Remus turned his eyes towards her. He seemed to weigh whether to say something or not. In the end, he shrugged lightly and, with a small smile, said:

—Sometimes you remind me of Lily, Tonks.

Tonks’s heart tightened. She had not expected that comment. She did not know whether it was something good… or not quite.

Sirius looked at his friend, raising an eyebrow. It was not like Remus to say something so direct. He narrowed his eyes, as if considering the remark, and then looked at Tonks with mischievous curiosity.

—So, Lily, is it? Let’s see… Strong character, yes… determination, certainly… stubbornness, without a doubt… —he counted on his fingers while Remus nodded.

Tonks watched them with a tense expression, unsettled by the place she seemed to occupy in Remus’s life.

Did he truly see her as his best friend?

—Funny? Well, you try —Sirius added with a laugh.

Tonks shot him a murderous look and swung her arm to reach him.
In the movement, she knocked over the teapot. The tea spilled across the table with a dull splash, spreading everywhere. Sirius jumped back just in time to avoid being scalded.

—Right, that doesn’t remind me of Lily —he said lightly.

Remus, unperturbed, flicked his wand and the mess vanished at once.

Then he sought Tonks’s gaze —she had flushed slightly— and held it a second longer than usual. As though he sensed that something in his words had stirred an unease she did not quite know how to manage.

His eyes softened and, for a moment, his mind drifted back.

To his younger self, one afternoon at the beginning of autumn, on the grounds of Hogwarts.

The Black Lake breathed slowly beneath the September light.
The air was mild, still warm, but with that faint suggestion of autumn that made the sky seem higher.

He remembered himself leaning against the trunk of a beech tree, his back resting against the bark.
His tie slightly loosened, the collar of his shirt open one button too many, and his jumper —creased by the posture— forming uneven folds at his elbows. His black shoes, still new and a little treacherous, lay off to one side on the grass.

His legs were stretched out, a book open across his thigh.
He was not reading in haste.
He would turn a page, pause, go back a line. At times he murmured a verse under his breath, letting himself be carried by the cadence. The wind lifted strands of his hair and shifted the shadows across his face, forcing him to squint when sunlight slipped through the leaves.

It was peaceful there. With the murmur of the water, the whisper of the wind and the golden warmth of the last days of summer.

—Remus!

He opened his eyes to find Lily leaning over him, her red hair aflame in the light.

—I’ve been looking for you. Prefects’ meeting in an hour. And I know you: if you stay here, you’ll forget the world exists.

He pushed himself up slightly as she dropped down beside him, crossing her legs with natural ease.

—I’m not surprised you like this spot —she said, watching as the giant squid surfaced lazily on the far side of the lake.

Remus smiled with that slight curve of his lips that only appeared when he was truly at ease.

—I was only reading.

—I can see that.

With a playful grin, Lily snatched the book from him and looked at the cover.

—Shakespeare’s sonnets…

She turned to the marked page. The wind lifted one corner and she held it down with her fingers. She read in silence. Her eyes moved quickly, but paused for a moment. She frowned slightly.

Remus saw it.
And lowered his gaze.

There was something in that sonnet —in the way it spoke of debt, of insufficiency, of not being enough— that felt all too familiar.

Lily turned the page. And another. And another. Until she stopped.

A small, almost imperceptible smile curved her lips.

—I like this one better.

She rose with theatrical solemnity, cleared her throat dramatically and lifted an arm as though addressing an invisible audience:

—Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? —she declaimed, gesturing towards the blue sky above them— Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Remus let out a soft laugh.

Lily continued, a few more lines, with that carefree conviction that made even Shakespeare sound like mischief.

The breeze lifted her skirt and stirred her hair, red as the summer sun.

—But thy eternal summer shall not fade… —she went on.

A shaft of light crossed Remus’s face, illuminating his cheekbones, the edge of his tousled hair, the half-amused, half-incredulous expression in his eyes.

Lily’s pronunciation was not perfect, but she had conviction. And a spark that was impossible to ignore.

When she finished, she closed the book with a soft thud and knelt beside him.
She studied him for a few seconds, as though truly comparing him to something.

She smiled.

—“Thy eternal summer.” —Lily smiled— That’s how I see you. Right now.

Remus, with his crooked tie, rumpled jumper and bare feet in the grass, let out a low laugh.

—Evans, you’re delirious.

—Not at all.

They both burst into laughter, just two teenagers being exactly that. Then she stood and held out her hand.

—Come on. Before your “eternal summer” makes us late for the meeting.

Remus took her hand. He felt her pull him up, out of the shade and into the bright clearing of the afternoon.

—Come on, Remus! —Lily called, already a few steps ahead.

He smiled as he hurriedly slipped on his shoes and straightened his tie.

The grass lay flattened where he had been resting. The book returned to his satchel.

For a moment, beneath that tree and that flickering light between the leaves, he felt like an ordinary boy under a tree, with a book, a good friend and an entire afternoon ahead of him.

He ran after Lily, who was already heading towards the castle, her hair dancing in the wind.

And as he ran, the final lines echoed in his mind:

“So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

—Yes, you do resemble Lily… in some ways —Sirius concluded, pulling the adult Remus out of his reverie.

—But you will always be you, Tonks.

And as he said it, Remus looked at her with a soft smile. The same one he had given Lily that sunny afternoon, so many years ago.

Tonks did not know whether it was the way he had said it, the way he had looked at her, or simply the easy conversation of an ordinary day. But she did not feel compared. Nor replaced.

On the contrary.

For the first time in days, she felt seen.

—You look different —Remus added quietly, almost under his breath—. That colour suits you. It’s nice.

Tonks blinked in surprise. She wore nothing special. Only a dark wool dress she had retrieved from the back of her wardrobe after much hesitation. In the same way, her hair now bore a pale pink shade she had not consciously chosen. She had woken up like that. As though her magic itself did not quite know how she felt.

—Oh —she said, softer than usual—. Thank you.

She lowered her gaze, pretending her empty teacup was endlessly fascinating. A small smile curved her lips, without effort.

When she looked back at Remus, he had already turned his eyes away, lifting his cup with an air of distraction, as though he could still feel the light of the eternal summer of his youth.

Sirius, from the other side of the table, had seen everything in silence.
He rested an elbow on the back of his chair, amused.

He had not missed the light in Remus’s eyes, nor the serene expression on Tonks’s face, as though she could finally breathe with ease.

He said nothing. But he was delighted.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Let me know what you think about this arc, which includes the character of Emmeline Vance — a figure practically nonexistent in the books, barely a name, a death and little more — and who here has become a piece of the Marauders’ past… and, above all, a mirror for Tonks’s insecurity.

I’ll go point by point:

— I know what you’re all thinking. “But Tonks is very direct. She would walk straight up to Remus, kiss him and tell him what she feels. Not without tripping over herself first, of course.”

Yes, I agree, that is Tonks… with crushes.

But with Remus, it isn’t a crush. It’s love. And when love is real, you don’t act the way you usually would. Tonks knows Remus. She knows he is reserved, that he protects himself, that he carries a quiet sense of debt towards the world. And when you know what is at stake, you don’t push. You wait. You observe. You measure. Not out of weakness, but out of care.

— Shakespeare’s sonnets. It may sound pretentious. But I love them. I love that old English (yes, I’ve read them in English, but always with a good Spanish translation beside me), and the way that society — or at least the author — saw life, love, sex, summer… I don’t know. I find it beautiful. We haven’t changed that much in five hundred years.

— Lily. Yes, for me (and I’m not ashamed to admit it), Lily was a very important person — perhaps the most important one, up until that point — who crossed Remus’s path. Not romantically, not as a couple. Just… Lily. Luminous, honest, perceptive, kind. The way I imagine her. As Remus says: “someone capable of seeing the light in another person who only sees their shadows.” That leaves a mark. And it doesn’t have to compete with anything that comes after.

— And now, Emmeline. How do you imagine her?

I see her as a kind of femme fatale… but not in the sexualised sense of the term. Not the mysterious woman in a red dress with cigarette smoke curling around her. She’s a superwoman. Intelligent. Capable. Unreachable. Perfect… and Prefect. The outstanding Ravenclaw. The one who always knows what to say. The one who translates impossible languages without losing her composure. The one who never seems to falter.

And precisely because of that, she was perfect to embody Tonks’s insecurity. Because sometimes we are not competing against real people, but against idealised versions we’ve built in our own minds.

— And yes, Sturgis Podmore, Emmeline Vance, Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones will have their place. Not as decorative “friend B” figures, but as secondary characters with real weight. You already know secondary storylines are my weakness. And I think these characters deserve it.

Thank you for accompanying me through this small arc. I hope you enjoyed it.

Let me know what you think in the comments — I truly love reading you.

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