His thoughts, the blame that he places on himself in overly exorbitant doses, are precisely why he should not be alone. But the unasked question is a good one. Where would he go? The memory she just watched shows that Dumbledore didn't think to offer condolence or solace in an actually helpful way.
Anything Tonks knows about their current in-between time is only known from what she's asked of Remus in her own timeline. He fell off the map, so to speak, between now and Hogwarts, so she's had no one but him to ask. And even the year and a half between him leaving the school and her becoming part of the Order is only understood through however much she's been able to sneak past his defenses.
It could be different. It should be different.
She stays quiet for a moment, not having an answer. At least, not an answer that she has words for. But as she stays quiet, still staring at their hands, the magic of the bedknob speaks for her.
The scenery changes, the dark quiet of the ramshackle little building washing away into the brighter colour of a living room in a cozy house. The bed magically fits within the space, giving them both a view of a small dining area and its table.
At the table is a woman with patrician features who, on first glance, bares a striking resemblance to Bellatrix Lestrange. Standing just behind her, a hand gently on her shoulder, is a fair-haired man. They both are watching their daughter, by now eight and a half and with one green pigtail and one blue.
"Dora," Andromeda starts quietly. "We have to tell you something."
Dora, the child version, stares at her parents innocently enough, at first taking their solemn features for a game.
Because they're both so solemn, Dora tries to play their usual game, where she makes silly faces until somebody straight-faced starts laughing. Her nose scrunches and dog ears sprout from the side of her head, floppy just underneath the pigtails. And she aims for a matching nose, but doesn't quite get there, instead creating a cartoonish button nose. Andromeda and Ted smile a little, though the action doesn't reach either of their eyes, and it's then that she realizes something's different. The child doesn't know how it's different, or why, but she can tell something's off.
Andromeda reaches out, smoothing the crown of her daughter's head. "We need to talk about Sirius. He won't be coming again." While the visits had been few and far in between, Sirius knew that his cousin's home had been open to him, a little space to take refuge during the War, one with as many charms and wards as he could hope for. And Dora delighted in each visit, no matter the length of time she got with him.
"Why?" It's her favorite word even as an adult, and more so as a child. Dora squirms in her chair, trying to puzzle out what's going on.
Andromeda, having never discouraged that word, takes a steadying breath. Even knowing her daughter, and knowing that would be the first word out of her mouth, it's still difficult to answer. "He did a very bad thing, and has to go somewhere that he can think about what he did."
Ted continues to stay quiet, but moves to rub his wife's arm as she deals with this. Dora looks obviously confused and tilts her head. "Is he in trouble?" When her parents nod, she thinks about it but then shrugs. "But then he'll say sorry and can come over!"
"No, darling. He can't say sorry for what he did. He hurt people."
That information doesn't match up to what the little girl knows, so she frowns, growing cross with whatever game this is. "Mummy, why are you being mean?"
"I'm not--" Andromeda starts, but she's interrupted by Dora's compelling argument of 'You are too!'
She reaches out to gather Dora in her arms then, but the girl wrenches away. "No! You're a liar and it's not nice!"
"Nymphadora. Go to your room. Now." Ted butts in now, firm and pointing to the hallway. Wide-eyed and upset, Dora jumps out of the chair with it clashing to to the floor and runs to her room.
Andromeda, generally one who keeps her composure, collapses against the table and starts crying.
Tonks, having being watching her mother for a while now, glances over to Remus. "I think I can count on one hand how many times I've seen my mum cry." She says thoughtfully.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-11-13 12:58 am (UTC)Anything Tonks knows about their current in-between time is only known from what she's asked of Remus in her own timeline. He fell off the map, so to speak, between now and Hogwarts, so she's had no one but him to ask. And even the year and a half between him leaving the school and her becoming part of the Order is only understood through however much she's been able to sneak past his defenses.
It could be different. It should be different.
She stays quiet for a moment, not having an answer. At least, not an answer that she has words for. But as she stays quiet, still staring at their hands, the magic of the bedknob speaks for her.
The scenery changes, the dark quiet of the ramshackle little building washing away into the brighter colour of a living room in a cozy house. The bed magically fits within the space, giving them both a view of a small dining area and its table.
At the table is a woman with patrician features who, on first glance, bares a striking resemblance to Bellatrix Lestrange. Standing just behind her, a hand gently on her shoulder, is a fair-haired man. They both are watching their daughter, by now eight and a half and with one green pigtail and one blue.
"Dora," Andromeda starts quietly. "We have to tell you something."
Dora, the child version, stares at her parents innocently enough, at first taking their solemn features for a game.
Because they're both so solemn, Dora tries to play their usual game, where she makes silly faces until somebody straight-faced starts laughing. Her nose scrunches and dog ears sprout from the side of her head, floppy just underneath the pigtails. And she aims for a matching nose, but doesn't quite get there, instead creating a cartoonish button nose. Andromeda and Ted smile a little, though the action doesn't reach either of their eyes, and it's then that she realizes something's different. The child doesn't know how it's different, or why, but she can tell something's off.
Andromeda reaches out, smoothing the crown of her daughter's head. "We need to talk about Sirius. He won't be coming again." While the visits had been few and far in between, Sirius knew that his cousin's home had been open to him, a little space to take refuge during the War, one with as many charms and wards as he could hope for. And Dora delighted in each visit, no matter the length of time she got with him.
"Why?" It's her favorite word even as an adult, and more so as a child. Dora squirms in her chair, trying to puzzle out what's going on.
Andromeda, having never discouraged that word, takes a steadying breath. Even knowing her daughter, and knowing that would be the first word out of her mouth, it's still difficult to answer. "He did a very bad thing, and has to go somewhere that he can think about what he did."
Ted continues to stay quiet, but moves to rub his wife's arm as she deals with this. Dora looks obviously confused and tilts her head. "Is he in trouble?" When her parents nod, she thinks about it but then shrugs. "But then he'll say sorry and can come over!"
"No, darling. He can't say sorry for what he did. He hurt people."
That information doesn't match up to what the little girl knows, so she frowns, growing cross with whatever game this is. "Mummy, why are you being mean?"
"I'm not--" Andromeda starts, but she's interrupted by Dora's compelling argument of 'You are too!'
She reaches out to gather Dora in her arms then, but the girl wrenches away. "No! You're a liar and it's not nice!"
"Nymphadora. Go to your room. Now." Ted butts in now, firm and pointing to the hallway. Wide-eyed and upset, Dora jumps out of the chair with it clashing to to the floor and runs to her room.
Andromeda, generally one who keeps her composure, collapses against the table and starts crying.
Tonks, having being watching her mother for a while now, glances over to Remus. "I think I can count on one hand how many times I've seen my mum cry." She says thoughtfully.