Day 17 of @remadoramicrofics - Ghost
There were lots of ghosts that haunted Remus. The hauntings had grown significantly more frequent since he had taken on the mission at the werewolf camp. Well, he supposed that wasn’t entirely true – only one ghost seemed more determined to occupy his mind since he had arrived out here. A bubbly, pink-haired one who seemed determined to prevent him from getting any peace. Tonight, as he lay in his tent and tried to convince himself that it wasn’t that cold, the ghost played out a scene that had become one of its favorites.
Remus stood at the sink, finishing up his dishes from tea as the floo flared to life and Tonks stumbled across the hearth. “Wotcher, Remus.”
“Good evening, Nymphadora, do you have a mission tonight?”
“I’ve told you a thousand times not to –”
“I’ll have you know,” Remus cut her off as he returned his mug to the cupboard and turned to face her. “I find your name to be rather endearing.”
“I still hate it,” she said petulantly. “Are you busy tonight?”
Remus sighed. They had done this song and dance a million times. “Nymph – Tonks, I’ve told you –”
“Yeah, I know, you insist that you’re too old, too this, too that and I tell you that I don’t care and you tell me that it’s not enough. You’re leaving, though, tomorrow, so I think that we should have a send-off. You, me, drinks at the pub. No expectations, no arguments.” She stared at him and Remus wondered how many times she had rehearsed this speech.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea; I have a cover to keep and –”
“I have a muggle pub in mind – know one would look for us there.” She stared pleadingly at him.
He sighed as he turned over. At the time, he had simply been impressed that someone remembered he was leaving, but now he wished he had told her now just to spare himself the frequent replays of the evening.
She had smiled up at him sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said after a moment.
“For what?” he had asked in confusion.
“Don’t act like you didn’t take this mission because of me,” she said, grimacing at the drink in her hand. “I chased you away to live with werewolves.”
“Nymphadora, I – it wasn’t just –” he found he didn’t have an answer. “War requires sacrifices and I knew my work for the Order could send me to…unsavory places; it had before.”
She nodded, her roots darkening, but didn’t say anything.
“You aren’t making me do anything, Tonks. I’m going to make a better place for –”
“Are you nervous?” she asked.
He sighed. “A little,” he admitted. “It’s going to be an uphill battle, for certain.”
“You’ll do good; you’re so kind there’s no way that they wouldn’t trust you.”
“I bear the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards, you see, whereas they have shunned normal society and live on the margins, stealing — and sometimes killing — to eat.”
“I’d take it back, if I could,” she told him, “I don’t mean it any less, but if I had known…”
“It isn’t your fault,” he had reassured quickly. It was his.
Remus had certainly been right, but as the ghost of her smile lingered behind his eyes, he realized that their distrust in no way compared to the difficulty of missing her. He sighed as he tossed over onto his back to stare into the darkness. At least with his eyes open, he wouldn’t have to see her.
