Chapter Text
Remus Lupin, by anyone’s standards, had lived a hard life. It seemed that anytime he got some sort of good luck or good fortune, it all came crumbling down around his ears, one way or another. Which was why, on the night of the first meeting of the re-vamped Order of The Phoenix, Remus found himself feeling a nauseating mix of excitement and terror.
He would once again be surrounded with people who were like a second family to him, but this time, would they all be as lucky as the first? The original Order of The Phoenix had some close calls, but was never fully detected by Death Eaters. Would their luck hold out? Remus sighed and checked his watch. It was time. He grabbed his suitcase, closed his eyes, and filled his mind with images and sounds of a place he’d sworn never to return to.
12 Grimmauld Place had not changed even a small bit from his last memory of it. The dreary, dark house still loomed over the street, barely lit by the single street lamp that shone onto it.
Remus knocked on the ancient wooden door, and immediately, Molly Weasley threw the door open and exclaimed, “Oh Remus! Come in dear, there’s food in the kitchen, not everyone is here yet though, so you get first go at all of it. You're entirely too thin. When was the last time you had a hot meal?” Molly said all of it in one breath, while bustling him through the corridors to the kitchen.
Remus caught glimpses of strange things in the process of being removed or taken down, and a painting on the wall was screaming insults and curses at whoever was nearest. He winced at it, he would recognize the voice of Sirius’s mother anywhere. At last, the small whirlwind that was Molly whisked him into the kitchen and had him seated with a hot bowl of stew in front of him before he could even ask her how she was. Remus smiled. Molly left no room for anyone to be melancholy. His stomach rumbled, and he took a large bite of stew, which of course was excellent. He told Molly so around a mouthful, and she made sure his bowl was never empty for long.
Three large bowls of stew and a cup of tea later, Remus got the tour of Grimmauld Place. There were dozens of rooms that weren’t safe to go inside, and several that Remus suspected were filled to the brim with curses, hexes, and nasty magical pests. He could help with that, that was why he had offered to stay at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and the Weasleys, to de-curse the mansion and make it the main meeting place for the Order. Molly showed him to the room he’d be staying in, it was still dusty, but they had cleaned out all of the magical creatures and curses from it. It would be almost cozy after a good cleaning.
When they returned downstairs, a familiar figure in dark clothes sat at the table. Remus felt himself grin. “Padfoot!” He called. “Isn’t it usually nice to greet people when they come to your house?”
Sirius jumped so hard, his knee hit the underside of the table with a loud thump, and he choked on his bite of food. He cursed vehemently, and Molly rolled her eyes.
“Maybe you can do something with him.” she told Remus quietly. “He’s been insufferable since we came here.”
Remus glanced his friend. “Considering what he’s been through here Molly, are you really surprised?”
Molly pursed her lips and gazed concernedly in Sirius’s direction. “I hadn’t thought of that.” she said.
Remus shrugged and went to sit down beside him. Sirius had finished choking and was back to shoveling food into his mouth.
Remus smiled. “Just like old times.” he said.
Molly slid a glass with a bit of fire whiskey in it towards Sirius, obviously a peace offering, and after Remus’s imploring look, did the same for him. Other people slowly started trickling in, almost all of them he recognized from the original Order, but there were a few younger, brighter faces.
Sirius sat quietly beside Remus, nursing his firewhiskey. “Lily would say you need a haircut.” Sirius said bluntly, after a moment’s pause.
Remus sniffed loudly, and said, “And she’d tell you you need a shower.”
Sirius snorted, and burst out laughing. Remus followed, and the ice was broken.
“James would be appalled we’ve got so much grey hair.” Remus said.
“Speak for yourself.” Sirius replied loftily, with a flip of his over-long hair, “It adds character to my otherwize stunning demeanor.”
By the time the Order was assembled, Remus and Sirius were roaring with laughter by the fireplace, and the mood in the room was cheery. A person near the back asked if everyone was here, and Molly looked around, her lips pursed and her hands on her hips.
“Not quite,” she said, “We’re waiting for one more.”
“Oh no.” said someone from the back, “Molly, tell me you didn’t invite that clutzy-”
“That is absolutely enough.” Alastor Moody silenced the grumbler with a hard look through his false eye. “That ‘clutz’ is a brilliant Auror, and a powerful young witch. I do recall you failed your Auror exams, didn’t you?”
Before the wizard could answer Moody, a young witch apparated into the room with a POP! and with a muffled yell, fell straight into Remus’s lap. Remus was too stunned to do anything for a moment, but then recovered himself and helped the young woman up. She was blushing furiously, and apologizing profusely to him. After a moment of talking over one another, Remus convinced her he was fine, assuring her she’d done no harm, and pulled her up a chair beside him.
Molly clapped her hands together once, and everyone’s conversations stopped. Everyone seated themselves around the table, and the meeting began. Remus should have been paying attention, but his attention was drawn to the girl. She had short, vividly pink hair, and elfish features, a cute button nose, with upturned, smiling eyes and a mischievous grin. She tapped her hands on the table, then on her knees, then on the sides of her chair, as she listened intently to the conversation at hand. Her hair stuck out at odd angles, like she ran her hands through it when she get excited, and none of her earrings matched.
She glanced over at him, and their eyes met. She had honey brown eyes that positively sparkled at him, and full, smiling lips. She blushed so hard her hair got a darker shade of pink, and Remus looked away abruptly, sure he was blushing as well. He was hyper aware of how close they were, not even a foot separated them from each other on the overcrowded bench. He resisted the urge to look back over at her, and tuned in to the meeting. A new member was giving a report of known Death Eaters in the ministry, and asking what everyone thought should be done.
Remus glanced back over at the girl again, and she turned away abruptly, like she’d been caught staring at him. The tips of her ears were red. She shifted nervously in her seat, like she was resisting the urge to look at him again. Remus looked away, and this time, he was determined to listen to the meeting.
It wound to a close some time later, and most of the wizards and witches apparated or floo-powdered back to their own homes, several stayed to chat. Remus noticed the girl talking animatedly to Alastor Moody, waving her hands and gesticulating wildly. Remus found himself smiling.
Sirius cleared his throat pointedly. “Staring, in my experience, is not the best flirting technique.” he said, leaning against the table, a smug look on his face.
Remus turned to his old friend, and tried his best to be nonchalant. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he said, a bit defensively.
Sirius snorted into his glass, and muttered “Suit yourself.” before walking over to Dumbledore and starting a conversation.
He turned back around just in time to catch the strange girl, again. She tripped over a chair leg, and went sprawling into Remus.
“Sorry, sorry.” she said, collecting herself. “Second time today I’ve wrecked into a perfect stranger.” she looked up at him, smiling, and Remus found himself smiling back.
He became aware that she was still very close to him, and he still had his hands on her shoulders from where he caught her. He released her, and stepped back, clearing his throat awkwardly, and ran his hands nervously through his hair. She watched him do it, her big, lively brown eyes following the movement, and the front of her hair swirled the same mouse-brown as Remus’s hair.
She clapped a hand over the top of her head, and said, “Sorry, it does that sometimes, if it decides, or rather, if I like someone’s hair. That’s the trouble with being a metamorphmagus. That is to say- I um- what was I saying? Oh right. I’m Tonks.” she said all of it as one tumbling sentence, and thrust her hand out for Remus to shake.
Remus blinked, and shook her hand. “I’m Remus,” he said. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
She smiled up at him, and said, “It’s very nice to meet you, too.” her hair swirled to fully brown, then shocked back to a stunningly bright shade of pink. Remus realized he was still holding her hand, and that Tonks wasn’t pulling away. He took his hand back, and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his robes, but couldn’t resist smiling down at her, just to see her smile again. She did, and Remus could have stood there all night, beaming down at her like an absolute loon, but Molly bustled over.
“Are you staying the night, Nymphadora dear?” asked Molly.
“Molly! Call me Tonks! The fewer people know I have such a ghastly first name the better! And yes, I would very much like to stay the night, it’s late, and I’m going to help you all clean this place in the morning.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Tonks, Nymphadora is a perfectly lovely name, and I’ll show you to a room we’ve got cleaned out, don’t go anywhere with a closed door, it means we haven’t cleaned it out yet. Remus, if you’ll excuse us, I’m going to get Tonks here settled in.”
Tonks smiled at Remus one last time, and then followed Molly out of the kitchen, Molly talking eagerly about the house and what they’d found in it. A glass of firewhiskey was slid into his hand, and Sirius was beside him again, smug as ever.
“She’s cute, I’ll give you that.” Sirius said.
“Once again, Sirius, I have absolutely no clue what you’re talking about.” Remus drank the rest of his firewhiskey in one gulp, and said, “It’s late, I’m going to bed.”
He trudged upstairs by the light of his wand, careful to creep by the painting of Sirius’s mother, who had finally stopped wailing and cursing at everyone. Once he reached his bedroom, he shrugged off his threadbare blue robes, resigned himself to unpack completely tomorrow, and curled into bed.