The Taste Of Revenge

2

SEVERAL WEEKS BEFORE:

"Do you have to go Remus?" Tonks asked quietly, placing the mug of lukewarm coffee on the work surface. She had her back to him, leant over and glaring down into the swirling patterns of her drink. Remus couldn't help the pang of pity that ricocheted through his heart as she slumped in defeat.

"You know I have no choice, they need-"

"Its okay." She cut him off, turning around to face him, "I understand." Brown hair, Remus decided, didn't suit her. Not because she didn't look beautiful, that would never be the case. No, brown hair didn't suit her because it wasn't her. She was no longer the vivacious, cheeky woman who never spoke when her middle finger said it all, she'd changed, grown up somehow.

"Why are you doing this?" Remus found himself nearly rising from his seat at the kitchen table, wanting to go to her. She had her arms folded over her chest, eyes fixed on the floor. Desperately, he wanted to throw the table aside and hold her in his arms and tell her it would all be okay, but such urges simply weren't acceptable, "Why do you carry on waiting for me?"

"I don't know." She choked out, a slight hint of desperation in her voice, "I've tried, Merlin knows I've tried so hard to move on. But, when you turn up outside my door looking half dead, how can I turn you away?" That part, Remus admitted, he was accountable for. It was just after the full moon, and he had taken it hard. He had no idea where to go for help, so when he thought of safety, he thought of Tonks. He had needed a laugh, relaxation, relief after forcing himself through so much stress. Instead, he had been welcomed into a dark, dingy flat by a silent, sullen woman who had looked after him and barely said a word.

"I'm worried about you Nymph." He admitted finally, losing his violent internal battle and getting to his feet, "You barely sleep, I haven't seen you eat since I've been here, you smoke, you drink, you don't care when I say your name and I am worried." With every step towards her, he'd become more and more desperate. Grabbing her shoulders, he finished speaking, looking her in the eyes for the first time in months. It took everything in him to not physically recoil. Her eyes were haunting. Pale grey where they once had been dark and full of life, swimming with tears that should never be associated with a woman so alive and perfect.

"I'm fine." She said firmly, managing only a weak smile, "There's nothing to worry about. Look, I figured you'd be leaving again soon so feel free to take any food you find in the cupboards with you. Mollys been worrying you're not eating enough." So nearly a laugh, a quiet chuckle, a twitch at the edge of her lips at least, "But that's just Molly isn't it."

"She's not the only one worrying." Remus said the words before he could really understand what he meant by them. Straight away, he felt his cheeks flame up, "Sorry, that wasn't very appropriate." All of a sudden, he felt very awkward indeed, letting go of her arms and taking several steps back, "But you're right, I should probably get going. They'll notice I'm gone eventually." Running a hand through his hair (which felt cleaner than it had done in months), he busied himself about collecting as much tinned food from the kitchen as he could find. Of course, he felt guilty for taking it, but food was hard to come across when traveling with the pack, and he needed as much as he could get.

"Goodbye Remus." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard it nonetheless. The two had slowly made their way into the hall, Remus didn't have any belongings other than the clothes he wore so packing was never particularly stressful.

"You'll see me again." He answered softly, shifting the carrier bag with the tins in slightly as she moved closer.

"I hope so." Tonks shrugged, pulling at her cuff rather than look him in the eye as she responded. She was so close to him, too close. He could smell her shampoo, see the way she was gently biting her lower lip. Until she stopped moving, and laughed a bit, just quietly but it was progress at least, "Same soap." She said briefly, "See you Remus." He didn't dare reply, for fear of what would leave his mouth. Instead he nodded curtly, his farewell silent.

Remus heard her begin to cry as he stepped out of the open door, but it was pushed up before he could turn back. The building her flat was in seemed cold and dead in the early morning. Every step he took echoed around the concrete walls, every breath left puffs of steam in the air. Curious Muggle neighbours peeked out of their doorways to glare at him for disturbing their peace with his obnoxious movement.

But still, he wasn't exactly thrilled to be leaving when he reached the door onto the street. Because leaving London meant returning to the violence and squalor of pack life. Where even getting scraps was a miracle and killing was just another game.

"No." He whispered to himself, "I can never go back." A crack filled the air as he disapparated, but not back to the slums. Remus wanted to go home, rest a while, he could explain to Dumbledore in the morning. Surely he would understand.