Thicker than Water (Marauders Era) PART II

14 May, 1998 - Without Him (II)

Lavinia did not go straight to Tonks's mother's house after the battle. Nor did she go the next day. Or the next. She simply didn't have the strength to. That child was better off with his grandmother. At least for now. So instead, Lavinia went home with Heather and Jasmine and wished she had gone home alone.

She knew it was foolish of her. Knew that alone, things would start slipping. But she didn't want to be around anyone else. She didn't want to see the glances Heather kept sending her way, like she was afraid that at any moment, Lavinia might shatter. She didn't want to see the exhaustion in Jasmine's eyes, didn't want to see the stare that was devoid of the spark Lavinia had always known it to have.

She wanted to pretend the silence and the emptiness in that house were because she was alone, not because of the grief stuffing itself down her throat. Not because someone else had called this place home for so long. Not because that someone was never coming back.

But he wasn't. And that simple, awful, aching truth made everything hurt. Being in that house hurt. Walking through those hills hurt. Existing hurt. And Lavinia would have much rather hurt alone.

For a full week, she was not allowed to. For a week, Heather and Jasmine stayed and Lavinia spent her days pretending she still knew how to breathe. But the reality of it was that Heather and Jasmine had an apartment. And it was closer to work for Heather and closer to job opportunities for Jasmine and it made more sense for them to be there. With the war over, there really was no need for them to be here. Safety wasn't an issue anymore. The world was returning to normal. And it would be best, Lavinia told them - told herself - if everyone else returned to normal too.

In truth, it was almost a blessing to see them go. They visited often, for which Lavinia was grateful, because she knew she needed the reminder to keep going. To keep breathing. To keep living. And during the day, it was nice to pretend that she might just be managing it. But at night, when sleep eluded her and she woke sweating with Remus's dead, staring eyes burned into her head, it was better that they weren't there. Better that she could pace the house alone. Cry alone. Scream alone. Because though she loved them both dearly, neither needed to be touched by this hell. Neither deserved her pain on top of their own.

And Lavinia knew they would have told her that they would share it if it helped. That they loved her enough not to care how much she was hurting. And maybe it was true, but Lavinia knew herself well enough to know that with them around, she would have done her best to shove it all down. To not let herself hurt. To not let it touch them. Because Heather and Jasmine were hers to protect. As Remus had once been. And Lavinia knew that if she let herself try to protect them as she had once tried to protect Remus, it would only hurt them all that much more. Because that was what it had done with Remus. To Remus. And she wouldn't allow it again. She would not repeat old mistakes. Not if she could help it.

It was that same resolve that sent Lavinia to Andromeda Tonks's doorstep nearly a week after the war ended. Because just as she would not hurt Heather and Jasmine the same way she had hurt Remus, she would not hurt Teddy as she had hurt Harry. That first time, holding little Teddy in her arms, Lavinia had felt utterly detached from him. His features kept shifting, changing, his hair teal one moment and orange the next, his eyes sometimes blue and sometimes brown. He looked nothing like his parents. When she'd said as much to Andromeda, a sentiment she admittedly hadn't entirely meant to speak out loud, the old woman had sighed softly.

"His features will settle soon," she'd told Lavinia gently. "Dora's did." It had sounded like a warning. And it was one Lavinia should have heeded.

The next time Lavinia visited her godson, it was to find eyes the exact shade of pale green that Remus's had been. She had made herself hold him still, telling herself she had to be strong. Had to bear this. But she could not meet those eyes.