Fic: End of Illusion
Jan. 17th, 2016 10:51 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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gilpin25
Title: End of Illusion
Rating & Warnings: PG; none
Word Count: 2454
Prompt(s): #34, ‘You sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.’ ―J.K. Rowling, and #18, Bathrobe
Summary: Tonks is in love, and she feels like an unstoppable force. But she has no idea what she's up against. Set during OotP.
Notes: This is not the fic it was once intended to be. Perhaps I'll write that one another time and make different use of the bathrobe! Meanwhile, it's been great to see so many posts here from friends old and new. Thanks to everyone who has taken part. ♥
End of Illusion
She’d once failed to get a Saturday job at Honeydukes, been thrown out of the Leaky Cauldron for aiding and abetting in ‘an unscheduled rumpus’, and reached an all-time low when breaking an unbreakable tea service during her final Stealth and Tracking Auror exam. But on none of those occasions could she recall the same stomach-churning anxiety she felt at this particular moment, stood on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place, shivering in the wintery cold of a grey January day.
And yet the anxiety was as nothing compared to the joyful anticipation that was threatening to overwhelm her.
Last night, spent here at a regular Order meeting, had been eye-opening. Heart-opening, in fact. The meaning of months of the most unexpected of friendships, of what seemed like non-stop laughter and joy (that word again) along the way, had resolved itself neatly in a split-second of smiling accord. Her head might have been stunned but her heart wasn’t, not in the slightest. Her heart felt as though it had known all along.
She'd fallen for Remus Lupin. And from the warm undercurrent in his voice which seemed reserved for her, the way he sought her out and the obvious pleasure he took in her company, she was pretty damn sure she wasn’t alone in this. He’d been tired last night, tired and a little ill, which was hardly surprising as it was the first night after the full moon, and the first time she’d seen him straight afterwards. In all honesty, it wasn’t half as bad as she’d expected or as Sirius had hinted at on occasion. Remus was used to this monthly change, used to coping. He’d been full of quiet jokes and charm; his face pale in the candlelight, close to her own.
Once he’d raised a hand as though to brush back a piece of her hair – long and pink for the night - that had caught itself on the frame of the chair. He’d turned it into a polite gesture, drawing her attention to it instead, but she kept on imagining what would have happened if he hadn’t.
Anything was possible. She couldn’t stop thinking that. Couldn’t stop wanting to grin. Right now her only idea was to see him, and— Well, right now, that was the only idea.
She tapped the twisted silver serpent that was Grimmauld’s doorknocker firmly with her wand. The locks and bolts started to click slowly open inside, giving her time to gather her thoughts and imagine how she’d feel when she first saw—
Sirius flung the door wide open, with such unexpected suddenness that the beady black eye of the serpent was still swivelling round to regard her with suspicion. His hair looked as though it had yet to see a comb and his clothes looked exactly like the ones he’d worn last night.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said, with what might have been an unflattering lack of enthusiasm, had Tonks not been feeling something of a momentary let-down herself. “Aren’t you supposed to be Moody?”
Tonks, resisting the urge to snap “Aren’t you supposed to be Remus?” back at him, said instead, “Thought I’d save him the trip as I had to be at work early.” A statement which omitted some details, such as the twenty minutes or so spent persuading Mad-Eye that she’d deliver his thoughts after she’d filled him in on last night’s meeting which he’d been forced to miss. Merlin, she loved that old wizard, but she’d had to memorize the entire parchment and recite it to him three times in case Death Eaters robbed her en route. Also going via Grimmauld was actually a flaming nuisance, journey-wise, but fortunately she didn’t have to be in too early at all.
Apart from that, every word was true.
“Well, as you were passing…” said her cousin, and she was ready for the sarcasm but there was none of his usual mocking humour behind it. Last night he’d been relatively cheerful, making plenty of contribution to the discussion. Now he looked angry.
“What’s up?” she asked, as he stood back to let her in.
“Nothing much except an owl’s come from Dumbledore for Moony. Another mission when he’s fit for it. Never mind that he’s only just back from the last one, and never mind that it’s the first decent company I’ve had in weeks.” He rubbed a long-fingered hand across his face. “I’ve a good mind to get out of here and go find—"
“No!”
Tonks, who’d felt most of the bounce going out of her at his first words, thought his next were likely to involve transforming into a large black dog and running amok round London while being observed by every passing Malfoy. Kingsley, currently working overtime to lay misleading trails away from here, would go up in smoke at the very thought. Sirius Black, mass murderer, had recently been spotted busking at Bristol docks, at least according to yesterday’s Daily Prophet he had, and everyone in the Order would rather like him to stay down there.
“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “It’s not fair on you, none of this is, but that doesn’t mean you get to lose your head and act like an idiot.”
They’d stopped in the gloomy hallway - for once she’d made it past that dratted umbrella stand – and he lent back against the peeling wallpaper with his arms folded, managing somehow to look like both the forbidding, elderly face on the nearest blackened portrait, and a petulant young boy about to throw a strop. Despite Molly’s best efforts, another large, knotted cobweb was dangling from the chandelier overhead. No matter how much cleaning was done, the house always fought back.
Tonks wanted to shiver. The damp always penetrated even the thickest of cloaks.
“I hate this house,” Sirius said. “Hate everything about it.”
“I know.”
“I hate that even Moony can come and go as he pleases, and have adventures and be useful, and I bloody well can’t.”
Tonks bit her lip. She hadn’t known Sirius for very long, and truth be told she found him daunting, admirable and frustrating to deal with, in about equal measure, but the ‘even Moony’ part made her blood boil. Then she reminded herself that if she’d been locked up in Azkaban for all those years she’d probably be fed up too.
“I’ll come see you,” she said impulsively, and braced herself because she was pretty sure she wouldn’t rate that highly on his list of desirable companions. But he looked almost pleased.
“You will?”
“'Course I will. And here—" she handed him Moody’s roll of parchment, complete with padlock “—good luck deciphering that as he’s put about a dozen spells on it. It’ll keep you busy for the rest of the day, if not the week. Now where did you say Remus was? I ought to at least say hi.”
“Hmm?” Sirius, as she’d hoped, was distracted by the prospect of a shiny new problem to solve. How she longed to get him and Remus alone one day and quiz them about the Marauder’s Map. She longed to quiz them on lots of things that were the stuff of legend at Hogwarts, but some of them she knew she’d never have the guts to ask. Like how on earth the friendship between these two had survived betrayal and distrust, and yet had somehow managed to endure.
“Moony’s in the kitchen, getting breakfast.”
Sirius was already tapping the parchment with his wand, frowning as a large brown stain appeared and threatened to cover it. She thought he’d already forgotten her, but as she reached the end of the hallway she heard him call out: “Oy! Tonks!”
Whatever he wanted – he’d probably found the spell that glued your fingers painfully to the lock in a Mad-Eye special – she’d see him when she came back. It wasn’t as though she was planning to stay for long.
The kitchen door was ajar. Merlin, she was nervous.
She pushed it open, very gently. Remus was standing in front of the large range with his back to her, stirring an egg-filled pan over the flames. She was ready to joke about turning up in time for food, even as the words died on her lips. He had one elbow resting on the mantelshelf, and was leaning his head tiredly against it, stirring as if he didn’t much care what he was doing. She’d never noticed how much grey was in his hair, mixed in with the brown that curled against the nape of his neck. He was wearing a dressing gown, which had almost certainly once been thick and warm, and a dark, rich burgundy in colour, but was now patched and worn. The slippers on his feet were in no better condition. He looked round absently from the range, and started to say something. Then he saw who it was, and the colour flared in his cheeks.
He jumped round with an expression of absolute horror flooding over his face.
“Tonks!”
She knew she was never going to forget his shock. His horror. She couldn’t help her eyes focusing on the dressing gown: the threads hanging down from it, the hole by one elbow and the frayed belt tied round his waist. They focused there, even while she knew this was almost the worst thing she could do, and that he'd misinterpret it completely, simply because she didn’t want to look again at his thin, pale, and so obviously ill face. She didn't care about his clothes, she cared about his face. It reminded her of crumpled tissue paper. The utter weariness in his stance confirmed that last night had been an act; a tremendous one for her benefit and for everybody else's. Pretending he was fine when he was anything but.
Another mission when he’s fit for it. Dumbledore had known the truth. Everyone did, except her it seemed. It scared her how well he could pretend.
It scared her even more that she hadn’t known. It wasn’t Sirius who was the idiot round here, it was her. She’d made silly plans and had what now seemed like totally daft, immature dreams last night, not even beginning to appreciate what he was going through to sit there and laugh and joke with her. The difference in the worlds they lived in seemed immense.
“Did you want something?” Remus said at last. His eyes were hard and deeply shadowed.
“I—" She stopped. Whatever she said next was of the utmost importance, and she had no idea what it should be.
“I wanted to see you,” she said, and stopped. Don’t let me hurt him even more. Don’t let him misinterpret this as well. “I wanted to tell you that I enjoyed last night, and – and your company.”
He shrugged, looked down at the eggs, hardening into lumps in the pan. “It was just a regular Order meeting, Tonks.”
“And I wanted to see how you were. After the full moon, I mean.”
The words seemed to hover between them in the air, and for a minute she thought she couldn’t have said anything worse to him, but then she managed to look again at his face and the hardness in his eyes had gone. If anything, he looked surprised.
“I’m all right. I’m a little tired today but that doesn’t matter.”
“It matters.”
It came out sharper than she meant it to. He looked even more startled. Nobody should look that surprised because there was someone in the world who cared if they lived or died. Nobody should, least of all Remus Lupin.
He smiled at her. Only a small, wary little smile but possibly the most beautiful one she’d ever seen as there was an element of wonder to it. And suddenly anything was possible once more, if only they could get past this.
Time to go before she messed up again.
“Sirius says you’re going away,” she said, backing towards the door. “I’ll see you when you get back, yeah?”
“I’ll look forward to it.” He hesitated, almost as though fighting an inward battle with himself. He tugged a little at a sleeve, the one with the hole in it, as though he actually wanted to make her notice it.
Then: “Nymphadora.”
She made a sound which she hoped he’d interpret as the usual disgust, but which in reality was her holding back a choke, managed the swiftest of grins as a farewell, and then she fled back up the now comforting dark of the hallway where Sirius was stood waiting for her.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Yeah.” She wanted to add ‘and so you should be’, but that wasn’t fair when it was her own fault. The worst Sirius could be accused of was thoughtlessness.
“Was he angry? I shouldn’t have let you catch him at a disadvantage like that. He’s always a wreck after transformation, and last night completely knackered him with the meeting going on for ages. And for you, of all people, to see him like that. Damn.”
“Yeah,” Tonks said again. You, of all people. Sirius was saying something else, saying quite a lot, and she wasn’t listening because it was another of those moments when her head was stunned at what it was hearing but her heart wasn’t, not in the slightest.
Her heart still believed anything was possible if only you had the courage to pursue it. If someone wanted you as much. Already she was counting the days till she could see Remus again and find out if he really did.
“It wasn’t tactful.” Sirius was frowning still, shaking his head. He was watching her closely. “You’re off now, I take it. Never to return?”
It was barely even a question, but she realized how loaded those three little words were. He was asking if she was going to jump on her broomstick and disappear. If she’d been put off by coming face-to-face with such serious illness at such close quarters. He was probably wondering how young and shallow she really was, and if her girly crush had not survived for long when up against some harsh reality.
Of course Sirius Black didn’t know her very well at all, and she felt as if she was only just beginning to know herself and the true strength of her feelings.
“I’ll see you on Wednesday evening,” she said, without hesitation. “About seven o’clock. I'll bring the crisps. Hope you’re as good at chess as I am.”
It was her second brilliant smile in quick succession. This one broke her heart a little as well because she’d surprised another man today at Grimmauld Place.
“They do say anything’s possible,” said Sirius gravely, and then raised an eyebrow at her in query as she laughed. If it felt like more of a choke again, he wasn't to know that either. It was turning into that sort of day.
gilpin25Title: End of Illusion
Rating & Warnings: PG; none
Word Count: 2454
Prompt(s): #34, ‘You sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.’ ―J.K. Rowling, and #18, Bathrobe
Summary: Tonks is in love, and she feels like an unstoppable force. But she has no idea what she's up against. Set during OotP.
Notes: This is not the fic it was once intended to be. Perhaps I'll write that one another time and make different use of the bathrobe! Meanwhile, it's been great to see so many posts here from friends old and new. Thanks to everyone who has taken part. ♥
She’d once failed to get a Saturday job at Honeydukes, been thrown out of the Leaky Cauldron for aiding and abetting in ‘an unscheduled rumpus’, and reached an all-time low when breaking an unbreakable tea service during her final Stealth and Tracking Auror exam. But on none of those occasions could she recall the same stomach-churning anxiety she felt at this particular moment, stood on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place, shivering in the wintery cold of a grey January day.
And yet the anxiety was as nothing compared to the joyful anticipation that was threatening to overwhelm her.
Last night, spent here at a regular Order meeting, had been eye-opening. Heart-opening, in fact. The meaning of months of the most unexpected of friendships, of what seemed like non-stop laughter and joy (that word again) along the way, had resolved itself neatly in a split-second of smiling accord. Her head might have been stunned but her heart wasn’t, not in the slightest. Her heart felt as though it had known all along.
She'd fallen for Remus Lupin. And from the warm undercurrent in his voice which seemed reserved for her, the way he sought her out and the obvious pleasure he took in her company, she was pretty damn sure she wasn’t alone in this. He’d been tired last night, tired and a little ill, which was hardly surprising as it was the first night after the full moon, and the first time she’d seen him straight afterwards. In all honesty, it wasn’t half as bad as she’d expected or as Sirius had hinted at on occasion. Remus was used to this monthly change, used to coping. He’d been full of quiet jokes and charm; his face pale in the candlelight, close to her own.
Once he’d raised a hand as though to brush back a piece of her hair – long and pink for the night - that had caught itself on the frame of the chair. He’d turned it into a polite gesture, drawing her attention to it instead, but she kept on imagining what would have happened if he hadn’t.
Anything was possible. She couldn’t stop thinking that. Couldn’t stop wanting to grin. Right now her only idea was to see him, and— Well, right now, that was the only idea.
She tapped the twisted silver serpent that was Grimmauld’s doorknocker firmly with her wand. The locks and bolts started to click slowly open inside, giving her time to gather her thoughts and imagine how she’d feel when she first saw—
Sirius flung the door wide open, with such unexpected suddenness that the beady black eye of the serpent was still swivelling round to regard her with suspicion. His hair looked as though it had yet to see a comb and his clothes looked exactly like the ones he’d worn last night.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said, with what might have been an unflattering lack of enthusiasm, had Tonks not been feeling something of a momentary let-down herself. “Aren’t you supposed to be Moody?”
Tonks, resisting the urge to snap “Aren’t you supposed to be Remus?” back at him, said instead, “Thought I’d save him the trip as I had to be at work early.” A statement which omitted some details, such as the twenty minutes or so spent persuading Mad-Eye that she’d deliver his thoughts after she’d filled him in on last night’s meeting which he’d been forced to miss. Merlin, she loved that old wizard, but she’d had to memorize the entire parchment and recite it to him three times in case Death Eaters robbed her en route. Also going via Grimmauld was actually a flaming nuisance, journey-wise, but fortunately she didn’t have to be in too early at all.
Apart from that, every word was true.
“Well, as you were passing…” said her cousin, and she was ready for the sarcasm but there was none of his usual mocking humour behind it. Last night he’d been relatively cheerful, making plenty of contribution to the discussion. Now he looked angry.
“What’s up?” she asked, as he stood back to let her in.
“Nothing much except an owl’s come from Dumbledore for Moony. Another mission when he’s fit for it. Never mind that he’s only just back from the last one, and never mind that it’s the first decent company I’ve had in weeks.” He rubbed a long-fingered hand across his face. “I’ve a good mind to get out of here and go find—"
“No!”
Tonks, who’d felt most of the bounce going out of her at his first words, thought his next were likely to involve transforming into a large black dog and running amok round London while being observed by every passing Malfoy. Kingsley, currently working overtime to lay misleading trails away from here, would go up in smoke at the very thought. Sirius Black, mass murderer, had recently been spotted busking at Bristol docks, at least according to yesterday’s Daily Prophet he had, and everyone in the Order would rather like him to stay down there.
“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “It’s not fair on you, none of this is, but that doesn’t mean you get to lose your head and act like an idiot.”
They’d stopped in the gloomy hallway - for once she’d made it past that dratted umbrella stand – and he lent back against the peeling wallpaper with his arms folded, managing somehow to look like both the forbidding, elderly face on the nearest blackened portrait, and a petulant young boy about to throw a strop. Despite Molly’s best efforts, another large, knotted cobweb was dangling from the chandelier overhead. No matter how much cleaning was done, the house always fought back.
Tonks wanted to shiver. The damp always penetrated even the thickest of cloaks.
“I hate this house,” Sirius said. “Hate everything about it.”
“I know.”
“I hate that even Moony can come and go as he pleases, and have adventures and be useful, and I bloody well can’t.”
Tonks bit her lip. She hadn’t known Sirius for very long, and truth be told she found him daunting, admirable and frustrating to deal with, in about equal measure, but the ‘even Moony’ part made her blood boil. Then she reminded herself that if she’d been locked up in Azkaban for all those years she’d probably be fed up too.
“I’ll come see you,” she said impulsively, and braced herself because she was pretty sure she wouldn’t rate that highly on his list of desirable companions. But he looked almost pleased.
“You will?”
“'Course I will. And here—" she handed him Moody’s roll of parchment, complete with padlock “—good luck deciphering that as he’s put about a dozen spells on it. It’ll keep you busy for the rest of the day, if not the week. Now where did you say Remus was? I ought to at least say hi.”
“Hmm?” Sirius, as she’d hoped, was distracted by the prospect of a shiny new problem to solve. How she longed to get him and Remus alone one day and quiz them about the Marauder’s Map. She longed to quiz them on lots of things that were the stuff of legend at Hogwarts, but some of them she knew she’d never have the guts to ask. Like how on earth the friendship between these two had survived betrayal and distrust, and yet had somehow managed to endure.
“Moony’s in the kitchen, getting breakfast.”
Sirius was already tapping the parchment with his wand, frowning as a large brown stain appeared and threatened to cover it. She thought he’d already forgotten her, but as she reached the end of the hallway she heard him call out: “Oy! Tonks!”
Whatever he wanted – he’d probably found the spell that glued your fingers painfully to the lock in a Mad-Eye special – she’d see him when she came back. It wasn’t as though she was planning to stay for long.
The kitchen door was ajar. Merlin, she was nervous.
She pushed it open, very gently. Remus was standing in front of the large range with his back to her, stirring an egg-filled pan over the flames. She was ready to joke about turning up in time for food, even as the words died on her lips. He had one elbow resting on the mantelshelf, and was leaning his head tiredly against it, stirring as if he didn’t much care what he was doing. She’d never noticed how much grey was in his hair, mixed in with the brown that curled against the nape of his neck. He was wearing a dressing gown, which had almost certainly once been thick and warm, and a dark, rich burgundy in colour, but was now patched and worn. The slippers on his feet were in no better condition. He looked round absently from the range, and started to say something. Then he saw who it was, and the colour flared in his cheeks.
He jumped round with an expression of absolute horror flooding over his face.
“Tonks!”
She knew she was never going to forget his shock. His horror. She couldn’t help her eyes focusing on the dressing gown: the threads hanging down from it, the hole by one elbow and the frayed belt tied round his waist. They focused there, even while she knew this was almost the worst thing she could do, and that he'd misinterpret it completely, simply because she didn’t want to look again at his thin, pale, and so obviously ill face. She didn't care about his clothes, she cared about his face. It reminded her of crumpled tissue paper. The utter weariness in his stance confirmed that last night had been an act; a tremendous one for her benefit and for everybody else's. Pretending he was fine when he was anything but.
Another mission when he’s fit for it. Dumbledore had known the truth. Everyone did, except her it seemed. It scared her how well he could pretend.
It scared her even more that she hadn’t known. It wasn’t Sirius who was the idiot round here, it was her. She’d made silly plans and had what now seemed like totally daft, immature dreams last night, not even beginning to appreciate what he was going through to sit there and laugh and joke with her. The difference in the worlds they lived in seemed immense.
“Did you want something?” Remus said at last. His eyes were hard and deeply shadowed.
“I—" She stopped. Whatever she said next was of the utmost importance, and she had no idea what it should be.
“I wanted to see you,” she said, and stopped. Don’t let me hurt him even more. Don’t let him misinterpret this as well. “I wanted to tell you that I enjoyed last night, and – and your company.”
He shrugged, looked down at the eggs, hardening into lumps in the pan. “It was just a regular Order meeting, Tonks.”
“And I wanted to see how you were. After the full moon, I mean.”
The words seemed to hover between them in the air, and for a minute she thought she couldn’t have said anything worse to him, but then she managed to look again at his face and the hardness in his eyes had gone. If anything, he looked surprised.
“I’m all right. I’m a little tired today but that doesn’t matter.”
“It matters.”
It came out sharper than she meant it to. He looked even more startled. Nobody should look that surprised because there was someone in the world who cared if they lived or died. Nobody should, least of all Remus Lupin.
He smiled at her. Only a small, wary little smile but possibly the most beautiful one she’d ever seen as there was an element of wonder to it. And suddenly anything was possible once more, if only they could get past this.
Time to go before she messed up again.
“Sirius says you’re going away,” she said, backing towards the door. “I’ll see you when you get back, yeah?”
“I’ll look forward to it.” He hesitated, almost as though fighting an inward battle with himself. He tugged a little at a sleeve, the one with the hole in it, as though he actually wanted to make her notice it.
Then: “Nymphadora.”
She made a sound which she hoped he’d interpret as the usual disgust, but which in reality was her holding back a choke, managed the swiftest of grins as a farewell, and then she fled back up the now comforting dark of the hallway where Sirius was stood waiting for her.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Yeah.” She wanted to add ‘and so you should be’, but that wasn’t fair when it was her own fault. The worst Sirius could be accused of was thoughtlessness.
“Was he angry? I shouldn’t have let you catch him at a disadvantage like that. He’s always a wreck after transformation, and last night completely knackered him with the meeting going on for ages. And for you, of all people, to see him like that. Damn.”
“Yeah,” Tonks said again. You, of all people. Sirius was saying something else, saying quite a lot, and she wasn’t listening because it was another of those moments when her head was stunned at what it was hearing but her heart wasn’t, not in the slightest.
Her heart still believed anything was possible if only you had the courage to pursue it. If someone wanted you as much. Already she was counting the days till she could see Remus again and find out if he really did.
“It wasn’t tactful.” Sirius was frowning still, shaking his head. He was watching her closely. “You’re off now, I take it. Never to return?”
It was barely even a question, but she realized how loaded those three little words were. He was asking if she was going to jump on her broomstick and disappear. If she’d been put off by coming face-to-face with such serious illness at such close quarters. He was probably wondering how young and shallow she really was, and if her girly crush had not survived for long when up against some harsh reality.
Of course Sirius Black didn’t know her very well at all, and she felt as if she was only just beginning to know herself and the true strength of her feelings.
“I’ll see you on Wednesday evening,” she said, without hesitation. “About seven o’clock. I'll bring the crisps. Hope you’re as good at chess as I am.”
It was her second brilliant smile in quick succession. This one broke her heart a little as well because she’d surprised another man today at Grimmauld Place.
“They do say anything’s possible,” said Sirius gravely, and then raised an eyebrow at her in query as she laughed. If it felt like more of a choke again, he wasn't to know that either. It was turning into that sort of day.
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no subject
Date: 2016-01-17 11:19 pm (UTC)But than he shows thoughtfulness in the end along with surprise that makes you really love him.
I laughed at how Tonks so enjoyed the meeting, and Remus was like "It was just another normal Order Meeting?" Haha if only he knew that he has set her upon a path towards really loving him.
And the ending is great, I'd really like to see that chess game. I feel it be as much a verbal game of banter back and forth, as it would be of mental tactics. And I also got curious about all the spells Moody placed on the parchment (He is one very paranoid man, isn't he? Haha).
Thank you for this story, it is always nice to see new things from you.
no subject
Date: 2016-01-18 02:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-01-20 04:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-12 12:49 am (UTC)The bit players here, too, come off as perfectly in character even in their so-brief mentions – Moody with his paranoid spells; Kingsley who would "go up in smoke" at the thought of impatient Sirius undoing all his false-trail-laying; even the house itself, morbidly fighting back against all attempts to make it habitable. And of course Sirius, oh Sirius, with his rage and frustration and his being a deeply good friend to Remus.
So beautifully portrayed all around!