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Author: Author by Night Story: Beholders Rating: Teens Setting: DH-interview Status: Completed Reviews: 1 Words: 20,690
Remus sometimes came for Christmas brunch. He’d never brought a girlfriend. Christmas wasn’t a big to-do in the Lupin family, not since Hope’s death. Lyall’s parents, who lived in Germany with his brother, sometimes dropped in, but they were far from joyous occasions. Lyall got on with his brother well enough, he'd named his son after him for a reason but when Remus had been attacked by Greyback, his parents acted as though Remus was a walking tragedy, almost mourning him when they were together. They couldn’t simply see him as the same Remus they’d loved and adored before the bite. Sometimes Lyall thought it would have been better had they just disowned them and left them in peace, rather than exposing Remus to a false sense of acceptance. So they’d spent Christmases alone and, once Hope died, decided for a very long time to drop the charade altogether. Christmas brunches and dinners were very rare. Still, Lyall had been happy when Remus asked if he could bring his new girlfriend for brunch, and was quick to bring out the decorations and nice silverware. He wondered who this woman was; all Remus had told Lyall was that she was in the Order, and they were trying to keep it fairly quiet (“given the state of the Ministry”), but still wanted loved ones to know. Lyall envisioned her as being quiet but friendly, much like Remus himself. In his mind she had soft sandy hair, which she wore in a bun. Perhaps thin-rimmed glasses. Lyall was not expecting a woman in her twenties with pink hair to turn up with his son. “Hello,” Lyall said as he extended his hand, hoping he didn’t sound too surprised. “I’m Lyall.” “Wotch — hello,” the woman said, smiling. “You can say ‘wotcher’ to him, Tonks, he’s not that much of a fuddy-dud,” Remus assured her. They both laughed. “As you can tell, this is Tonks,” Remus said. “Well, her full name’s Nymphadora—” Tonks grimaced. “—but she prefers her surname. Dora, if you absolutely must.” Remus took Tonks’s coat and hung it on the modest coat hanger by the door. Tonks was wearing a white shirt, red trousers and Christmas tree earrings. Lyall wasn’t sure quite what to make of it; it made her seem so young. But what really mattered was his son; Lyall hadn’t seen him since he’d shown up at his doorstep six months prior to deliver the terrible news about You-Know-Who’s return. Remus didn’t look as thin, but his clothes were still too shabby, and Lyall didn’t like to see that his son’s hair was prematurely greying, although it had been doing so for some time now. Or so Lyall thought; their meetings were so scarce anymore, it was hard to know sometimes what was new and what he’d just forgotten. “How are you?” Lyall asked Remus. “I’m well. Busy.” “And Sirius?” “What about him?” Tonks asked sharply. “He knows about that too, remember?” Remus reminded her gently. Tonks relaxed visibly. “Sirius is… okay.” “I wish Dumbledore would just let him stay with Mum and Dad,” Tonks muttered. “And I’m sure they’d let Kreacher move in as well.” “What’s this creature? And where is Sirius hiding instead?” Lyall asked. Remus and Tonks exchanged a look. “We can’t tell you that,” Remus said. “Remember?” “But—” “—it’s for your safety. And his. We’ll find Peter eventually, though.” Lyall’s memory flashed back to the boy who’d come to his house on several occasions. What had happened? And how was it that only two years prior, he’d felt that way about Sirius? That was what no one, not even Remus, had ever understood — Lyall had cared very much about those boys, almost as though they were his sons, too. “Is someone there with him now, at least?” Tonks nodded. “Harry and the Weas—some others.” “Weasley!” Lyall remembered what he’d wanted to ask them. “That was the other question I had — do you two know how Arthur Weasley is? I heard about it from Peasegood yesterday.” “I’ve — heard he’ll be okay,” Remus replied. “It was related to You-Know-Who, wasn’t it?” Remus cleared his throat. “Shall we open presents now?” “Oh — yes.” Trying not to feel bitter about the fact that his son couldn’t — or, perhaps, wouldn’t — confide in him, Lyall led them to the small family room. A small tree was next to the bookcase, and he’d moved some chairs to be closer to it. Lyall had bought Remus a pair of robes and the eighth edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which included information on an upcoming Wireless series based on the books. Tonks had bought Remus a book on the history and study of magical underwater creatures. Remus had bought Tonks a Wyrd Sisters t-shirt, which Tonks thanked him for excitedly five or six times before kissing him. Lyall knew it wasn’t the fancy gift a woman her age might hope for, but her excitement seemed sincere. “Here you go,” Tonks said, handing Lyall a large gift bag. “From both of us.” The first present was a pair of shoes; the second was a green watch with a Grindylow swimming around the face. “Sirius, Tonks and I arranged that part,” Remus said. Lyall laughed. “Of course you did. Thank you,” he added, giving Remus and Tonks equally tentative hugs. “Speaking of time, brunch should be ready in about half an—” He was interrupted by a knock at the door. “I’ll be back,” Lyall said. He opened it; to his utmost horror, his parents were on the front porch. “Mum? Dad?” Lyall didn’t have to glance into the family room to know the expression on his son’s face. “What’s wrong?” Lyall heard Tonks whisper. “Is that any way to greet your mother?” Agnes Lupin helped herself inside, Lyall’s father, John, following. “Of course not,” Lyall said, giving them hugs. Agnes’s perfume was as strong as always. “Happy Christmas. What brings you two here?” “Had matters to attend to,” John explained. “So we thought we would drop in. We won’t be long, though.” “Good … thing we were all home,” Lyall finished. “We were just opening presents in the family room.” When he led them in, Remus and Tonks were standing. Tonks seemed to be reassuring Remus of something. “Oh, Remus!” Agnes gasped. “What a surprise!” She paused, then hugged her grandson. He hugged her back half-heartedly. “And who is this?” John asked, looking at Tonks. Agnes, meanwhile, was focused on Tonks’s pink hair, her lip curling. Clearly she did not approve. “This is Tonks,” Remus told her. “Wotcher,” Tonks said with a grin, and Lyall winced. While it was true that he wasn’t much of a fuddy-dud at all, the same could not be said for his parents. “What?” Agnes looked confused, but then she laughed. “Oh, you’re trying to speak German!” “No,” Tonks said, “Wotcher just means—” “It’s very sweet of you, dear, but John and I aren’t German. We speak perfect English!” “You moved there to be closer to Remus’s uncle, right?” “Yes. When our Remus and his wife had children, well, we couldn’t take being so far from them… the younger Remus was older by then, too,” Agnes added quickly, her eyes shifting. “Already at Hogwarts.” “Not quite yet,” Remus corrected her. “I’m just a few years older than Max and Marta.” Lyall gave his son a warning look. “I regret to say this,” Remus continued, “but we actually need to—” “—eat!” Tonks finished loudly. “Honestly, the food should be ready by now! Why don’t Remus and I check on it for you, Lyall? Give you a bit of a break?” Tonks grabbed Remus’s hand, and Lyall could hear them whispering as they hurried away. “She’s awfully rude,” Agnes said. “Remus seems fond of her,” Lyall told her. Agnes shook her head sadly. “It’s no matter, I doubt it will last. That’s how it goes for people with his condition. It’s such a tragedy, he could have had a family by now. You could have grandchildren.” “We’re happy enough.” John sighed heavily, as though lost in deep thought. “Oh, but how it feels when a grandson tugs your beard…” “You haven’t got a beard, Dad. You’ve never had a beard.” “But at least he seems happy, in his way. Do you know if he’s received the money we sent?” “You still send him money?” “Of course! We know he must have trouble finding work.” Well, that explained how Remus was managing to survive on so little. Lyall knew, however, how much his son must have hated needing to take it. “I expect he has,” Lyall said. “But he’s been busy.” “Does he have a job now, then?” John asked. “Something like that. Enough about him, how’s the elder Remus?” “He’s doing very well! He’s going to be a grandfather himself.” “So I hear.” “But it’s not for everyone,” Agnes assured Lyall. “You know,” Lyall began, “who’s to say Remus won’t be a father?” Agnes snorted derisively. “Well, I certainly don’t think he’ll be one with that woman. She has pink hair and makes up German words!” “I think ‘wotcher’ is quite English, actually,” John said fairly. Lyall felt a rare rush of gratitude towards his father. “Besides,” John added, “Remus isn’t exactly normal himself, is he? It’s not like any normal girl—” The gratitude turned into anger, but just as Lyall was about to expel some very harsh words, Tonks’s voice announced that brunch was ready. Still hot with anger, Lyall stormed into the kitchen. “You don’t have a real dining room, dear?” Agnes asked in a syrupy voice. “No, I don’t, remember? It’s a small house.” “Oh. That’s all right, dear.” They sat down and helped themselves to the food. With an extra two people there was barely enough, but at this point, Lyall was more worried that either he or Remus would say something regrettable. “So, tell me,” Agnes asked Tonks, “how did you two meet?” Remus and Tonks exchanged a look. “I was walking a dog,” Remus said. “And the dog reminded me of a dog from my childhood,” Tonks added. “Which was perfect, as I was working out a reason to talk to her.” “Better yet, I was working out a reason to talk to him.” And somewhere in there, is the true story, Lyall thought. From the looks they were giving each other, it wasn’t so far off. “How lovely,” Agnes said. “So what do you do for a living?” “I’m an Auror.” “Are you really?” Agnes did not bother to mask her scepticism. “What do they think of — er — pink hair?” “They’re fine with it?” Tonks sounded stymied, for once. “Dora, dear,” Remus said, “don’t be modest. You told me how clever they found it!” “What — oh. That they do.” “Yes. You should see her at work; for her age, she’s exceptional. I’d hate to get her in a bad way, though.” Tonks swatted at him playfully. “You’re about to, if you go on like that!” Remus smiled. “Well, I’m so happy Remus has found you,” Agnes said. “So many women have turned away as soon as they learned the truth!” Lyall stared at his mother. Was she trying to test Tonks’s knowledge as some warped form of protection? If so, who was she protecting, exactly? And did Tonks know? Tonks raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?” “Gran!” Remus was very agitated now. “That’s enough.” “I’m only saying, you’re lucky to have such an accepting girlfriend who doesn’t mind your condition, or that you’re so much older and poorer. I can’t say I would have had the same class at her age.” Tonks was shifting in her seat. “Actually,” she said quietly, “I do mind.” Lyall couldn’t believe his ears. “Remus,” Tonks said, turning to him, “I didn’t know how to tell you this, but the condition of your bookshelf is a nightmare!” Remus paused, clearly recovering from panic. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” “I thought hints were enough!” “What do I need to do, then?” “I get it,” Agnes snapped. “I wasn’t asking for your cheek. I was just making sure you loved my grandson despite his being a werewolf.” “I think you owe your grandmother an apology,” John told Remus. “Can I speak with you two outside?” Lyall asked his parents. But Remus had stood up. “No. I can take care of this. Granddad, I’m not apologizing to Gran. If anything, you two owe me an apology. How dare you visit — or rather, briefly drop by like two near-strangers because you happened to be nearby — and put the woman I love to some sort of sick test? Is it really so hard to believe that I might actually be happy? Or is it easier to accept me for who I am if you’re sad for me?” “Well, can you blame us?!” Agnes exclaimed. There were tears in her eyes now. “Whenever I see you, I think about the baby boy I held, how promising your future was…” “—you’re a disgusting cow,” Tonks blurted. “He’s still the same baby boy you held, and if you can’t see that, then we should be feeling sorry for you.” She looked stunned at her own outburst. Remus put his hand on her shoulder. “Well? Aren’t you going to defend me?” Agnes asked him. “We just went over that,” Remus said coldly. “I think it’s time to go,” John shot back. “Happy Christmas.” Before Lyall or Remus could stop them — not that they were particularly inclined to do so — Agnes and John had Disapparated. “I’m so sorry,” Tonks moaned. “I was just trying to—” “—No,” Remus interrupted. “You were brilliant. I got to say the things I’d wanted to say for a very long time.” “Besides, they were ruining the very nice brunch I’d planned,” Lyall finished. Remus put his arm around Tonks, and she squeezed his hand. Lyall didn’t know who this strange pink-haired woman was, what her secrets were, what their secrets were. But maybe she was just the one Remus needed.
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