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Dec. 31st, 2004 12:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clumsy_aurorThe bar was quiet. Post-Christmas let-down, Tonks supposed, as she shouldered her satchel and walked to the staff quarters. She came to a stop outside of Bernard’s door, and raised her hand to knock.
For some reason, she hesitated, and she felt her cheeks flush slightly.
But then she squared her shoulders, and rapped on the door.
A second later, it flew open, and Bernard grinned at her. “Tits!” he cried jovially. “Come on in, I’m almost ready.” He stood aside to let her through and took her bag, setting it down on the chair. “Good Christmas?”
Tonks nodded and smiled back at him. “Yeah. Yeah, it was really nice. Had a grand time with the Weasleys on Sunday. Came away with all my limbs, and everything. And it‘s good to remember how much I love my mum and dad.”
Bernard’s face softened as he put a shirt into his holdall. “Know what you mean.” He glanced back up at her, dark blue eyes suddenly serious. “I’m glad I get the chance to see them again. One more time.”
“It might not be the last,” she ventured, sitting down on the bed. “We’ll just make the most of this visit, and you never know what could happen in the future.”
He shrugged, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I live in hope.”
Tonks grinned. “You and Crowley. Perpetual optimists.”
“Somebody’s gotta do it.” Bernard cleared his throat and looked away, busying himself with packing his sketchpad and pencils. “So, uh. You… recovered all right from our night of drunken debauchery?” He scrutinized one graphite point as if it held the secrets to the universe. “No ill effects?”
Tonks laughed out loud. “No, other than a bugger of a headache, which I took care of within five minutes of waking up. Truth be told, the whole evening’s a bit of a blur. I barely remember how I got home.” She blinked, as the memory of Bernard drunkenly kissing the tip of her nose surfaced, and she felt her cheeks going slightly pink. She breathed a silent sigh of relief that his back was still turned.
Bernard smiled that odd, private smile again. “Good.” He refolded a shirt so that it fit better into the bag. “Did you…like your present?”
“Oh, Bernard.” She caught his hand, and he looked back at her. “It was so very lovely. Really, I just…thank you. So much.”
He ducked his head and shrugged self-consciously. “You’re welcome. I thought it might be useful. And. The painting…” Bernard nodded to the wall over the bed, and Tonks turned and saw the O’Keeffe hanging just where she’d pictured it.
“D’you like it? Is it okay?” She bit her lip, looking back at him over her shoulder.
“Hey.” He tugged on her hand and pulled up her upright, wrapping her in a tight hug and grinning. “It’s perfect. I love it, Nymphadora. Thank you.”
Tonks relaxed slightly and squeezed him back. “Good.” She took a step backwards and matched his smile. “That’s good.”
He checked his bag one last time, and then zipped it up. “Okay. You ready?”
“Ready to go back in time to someplace I’ve never been and meet your adopted parents?” Her smile turned slightly nervous. “Sure. Bring it on…Oh!” She pulled out her wand. “One Glamour Spell, coming right up?”
Bernard nodded, scrubbing a hand through his bright red hair. “Yeah, probably a good idea…just in case.”
Tonks waved her wand, and his red hair faded to a pale blonde color. His freckles ran together until his skin was a darker tan, though the faint network of scars was still visible. She nodded smartly, satisfied, and turned him towards the mirror.
He blinked, and then a slow grin spread across his face. “Groovy,” he said, and then looked at her in the mirror. “You staying with the pink?”
“Nah.” She screwed up her face, and her hair lengthened and darkened to a non-descript brown. “I’d best go incognito.” Tonks fished in her pocket and produced a hair tie, pulling her locks back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck.
Bernard smiled at her, reaching around to gently tug on her hair. “All right, chameleon. Let’s go.” Then he picked up their bags on the way out the door, and they walked towards the main entrance of the bar.
“Same as last time, d’you reckon?” she asked.
“Only one way to find out,” he said, opened the door, and stepped over the threshold. Then he took her hand, and pulled her out after him.
***
It was late afternoon when Bernard and Tonks abruptly found themselves in a field of onions somewhere in the vicinity of Walla Walla, Washington. And it was also very clearly not December. Tonks dropped Bernard’s hand and pulled her wool jumper off, tying it around her waist. Then she caught a glimpse of his face, and grinned.
Bernard was just staring, drinking in the rolling hills and endless blue sky. Then he focused on a farmhouse on the nearest crest of land, and his smile widened. “There it is,” he said, touching her shoulder lightly and pointing. “That’s home.”
She nodded, her eyes roving swiftly over the area surrounding the farm. She could see unmarked cars parked at strange places along the road, and a pickup truck along one of the neighboring farms’ field paths. She pulled her wand. “I’m going to do a Warding Spell. That’ll make sure the police can’t see anything out of the ordinary at the farm. So far as they’re concerned, things will look normal. And, even if they try to get in, they won’t be able to.”
He stood back a moment as she closed her eyes and concentrated. She muttered an incantation under her breath, waved her wand in a wide arc, and suddenly the air all around them shimmered. “There,” she said with satisfaction, opening her eyes. “All set.”
They walked slowly over the fields, Tonks smiling at the bare-wood house and faded red barn. A few apple trees lined the dusty lane, and the sunlight glanced sharply off the windows of the house.
A hundred yards away from the house, a tall figure emerged from the barn, slowing to a stop and staring in their direction. Tonks could hear Bernard suck in his breath slightly, and his pace quickened. “That’s Dude,” he said, turning to her with a beaming face. “That’s my dad.”
She grinned back at him and pushed him ahead with a laugh. “Go on, then!”
Bernard took off towards the farmyard, waving madly over his head. Tonks could hear Dude’s excited shouts, and when Bernard reached him, she watched as the two men embraced warmly. A few moments later she caught up to them, hanging back a few steps, awkwardly wondering what to do with herself.
Dude reached out a hand and ruffled Bernard’s hair. “What’s this? What’s this? Where’s your red gone, boy?”
Bernard grinned and batted Dude’s hand away, looking like a teenager. “Just don’t want to get recognized, that’s all. It’s not permanent.”
The older man nodded, looking a bit graver. “Not staying, then? Not staying?” He looked more closely at his son, taking in the scars on his face and arms. “You been hurt?”
Self-consciously, Bernard covered over the scar on his forearm that spelled out DEATH, but nodded all the same. “Yeah. While back. I’m all right now.”
Dude’s face clouded over. “Still in one piece. Still in one piece. Long as you’re okay.” Then his eyes drifted over to Tonks, noticing her for the first time. “Well! But who’s this? Who’s this?”
Bernard turned back to Tonks, his smile returning, and beckoned her forward. “Dude, this is –”
“Nymphadora.” Tonks offered Dude a smile, and stepped forward, holding out her hand.
“Nymphadora? Nymphadora?” Dude winked at her, pumping her hand up and down. “Hell of a name. Almost as funny as his. Almost as funny as his.”
She grinned. “So I hear. I’m very pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Huh!” he said interestedly. “One of those Brits, then, eh? One of those Brits?” He turned to Bernard once more. “That where you been hiding out, boy? England?”
Bernard shrugged and nodded. “Sort of, yeah. I’ve got a job, Dude. A good one. And great friends.” His gaze rested on Tonks for a moment, and she smiled. “I don’t have to run from anyone there.”
Dude clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes full of warmth. “Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it. Come on inside, you two. Kathleen’s just getting dinner started. Just getting dinner started.”
He herded them through the back door, taking their bags and dropping them in the mud room. “Dude?” called a voice from the next room. “Someone come for dinner?”
“Yes ma’am, Kathleen, yes ma’am,” he said, grinning. “Think you might be interested in seeing who it is.”
Bernard led the way into the kitchen, and a petite woman with short dark hair came into view. She was standing at the sink, peeling a potato, which she promptly dropped when she turned around.
“Baby!” she cried, astonished. “You’re – oh, come here!” Kathleen opened her arms, and Bernard crossed the room in two long strides, bending down to hug her tightly.
“Hi, Kathleen,” he said, his voice slightly choked. “Miss me?”
She laughed, pulling away to brush the tears away from her own cheeks, and then hugged him again. “When we didn’t hear anything – oh, but you’re here now, and it’s all right. But your…oh, my…” Now it was Kathleen’s turn to wince at Bernard’s scars.
“He says he’s all right now, Kathleen. All right now.” Dude’s voice was soothing, and his wife nodded and hitched her smile back into place, aiming it now at Tonks.
“And where are my manners? We’ve got company!”
“This’s Nymphadora, Kathleen. Nymphadora.” Dude propelled her forward slightly, his large hand on her shoulder.
Kathleen raised her eyebrows and reached over to shake Tonks’ hand. “Oh, what an interesting name, my dear. Quite…provocative, isn’t it?”
Tonks flushed and smiled. “Yeah, my mum’s got a bit of a sense of humor.”
“So it seems. And you’re Bernard’s –”
“Nymphadora’s one of my friends from my new job,” Bernard broke in quickly, his pulse quickening. “I invited her along to visit. She’s been…she and the others have been great. They take care of me.”
Giving Bernard an indecipherable look, Kathleen smiled and pulled Tonks into a hug. “Then you’re all right in my book, sweetheart.”
Tonks grinned at Bernard over Kathleen’s shoulder. He smiled back, and seemed to be infinitely more relaxed than he’d been just a moment before.
“Now,” said Kathleen, pulling away and wiping away the last of her tears, “We’ve got to see about dinner. Nymphadora, how are you in the kitchen?”
“Er,” said Bernard hastily, “think I’d better help with dinner, Kathleen. Dude, maybe you could show her the barn?”
“Be glad to. Be glad to.” Dude adjusted his belt and held open the back door again. “Come on then, my girl. Come on. I’ll tell you all about the magical world of onion farming.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Tonks saw Bernard bite back a snicker at the word magical.
***
As soon as Dude and Tonks were outside, Kathleen turned to her son with a sharp knowing look and raised one eyebrow. “Now, how about you tell me about this girl you’re in love with.”
Bernard turned bright red and spluttered.
“You can peel potatoes while you do it.”
***
Tonks did indeed know a great deal more about onion farming after an hour with Dude than she’d ever imagined possible. She’d also been given a ride on a combine, and had been very close to shrieking with laughter at the thought of what Crowley would say when she told him that. She patted the roll of bandages in her pocket and grinned to herself, pleased that she’d managed to not get herself mangled in the gigantic farm equipment.
She’d keep the bit about tripping spectacularly over the chicken coop fence to herself, though.
Dinner was a noisy affair. Bernard had clearly picked up his love of story-telling from Dude, and the two men spent the night trying to outdo one another, resulting in the four of them gasping with laughter at regular intervals. Bernard and Tonks told them a bit about Milliways, or at least the parts that could be told without revealing its location at the end of the universe, or the fact that a good three-quarters of the clientele (including Tonks herself) were some brand of the magical persuasion.
Bernard didn’t mention Fleur, and Tonks knew better than to bring her up when he was so happy.
Dude brought out a few bottles of wine, and they stayed at the dining room table late into the night. Eventually, the elder two bade them good night, leaving Tonks and Bernard to themselves.
Tonks grinned at him, taking a sip of her wine. “I like them. Very much.”
He beamed. “They’re wonderful. They just…they get me.”
“Yeah. They do.”
Bernard gazed at her for a moment longer, and then hauled himself up out of his seat. “Come on. Have to show you something.”
She stood up, curious, and followed him out the back door. It was pitch black, and she groped for his shoulder, stumbling a bit on the uneven ground. He guided them over to the edge of the nearest field and hopped up onto the fence, legs dangling. She clambered up next to him. “So,” she said. “What am I looking at?”
He nudged her gently and pointed up. “That.”
Tonks looked up, and gasped. The sky was full of more stars than she’d ever seen before, and they actually moved, way out here in the middle of nowhere. Even Hogwarts astronomy lessons didn’t hold a candle to this.
“Looks like the sky’s on fire,” she whispered. “Like it’s smoldering.”
“Doesn’t it?” His voice was reverent. “It’s not even like this over the lake.”
“’S cause the sky over the lake is magically-made,” Tonks said thoughtfully. “Magic is…magic is wonderful. Magic is me.” She grinned mischievously, sobering after a moment. “But sometimes it doesn’t even come close to what nature produces all on its own. Stars. Fire. Snow.”
Bernard chuckled. “Kind of surprised we don’t have any snow now, actually. I think it’s the end of summer here, judging by the crop.”
She grinned into the darkness at him. “And here I brought along the new gloves and scarf Remus gave me for Christmas and birthday. Silly me.”
There was a horrified silence, and then Bernard’s voice was all but a squeak. “…Birthday?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention? Yeah, my birthday was on Boxing Day.”
“No…no, it must have slipped your mind. Christ, Tonks, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He sounded anguished.
“Hey. It’s not big deal, honestly. Just a birthday. I’ll have more.” She grinned, nudging his knee with hers.
He slid down off the fence, finally offering her a smile through the darkness. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand to help her down. “Let’s head inside.”
***
After he saw Tonks into bed in the guest room, Bernard walked slowly to his room and flipped on the light.
Just as he'd left it.
The desk was covered with metal bits and wires in an obscene snarl which admitted no view of the rough wood below. His annotated copy of The Anarchist's Cookbook was on the shelf next to his old Norton Anthologies from school.
He lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
They were getting older. No matter how solidly they supported him, his life was taking a toll on them. They were watched all the time, and it would never stop.
Still, it had been good to sit down with them, to talk with them. To see them.
To be looking across the table he ate dinner at every night for fourteen years and see Tonks sitting there talking to Dude about this year's crop as if she belonged.
To glance over at Kathleen and catch her eyeing him significantly.
He chuckled softly and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, grinding his teeth a little.
The situation was ridiculous.
He was the fucking Woodpecker, for Christ's sake. Second only to Don Juan for sheer fucking cocksmanship (and that was only because Don Juan wasn't in fucking jail half the time, was he?). There had to be a way to work the situation.
Nymphadora Tonks was worth the risk, even if the risk involved dragons with nasty, sharp, pointy teeth. And he was no stranger to fire.
Kathleen was far too knowing for her own good.
***
Dude wouldn’t hear of her helping with the chores, and Kathleen shooed her out of the kitchen, so Tonks took a long walk through the field. She watched as Bernard and Dude stood amongst the onions, pulling one up to see how it was coming along. It was strange, thinking of Bernard as a farmer. But that’s the life he’d grown up with.
She wandered back into the house just as Kathleen was putting lunch on the table. “So,” the older woman said. “Bernard tells me you’re in law enforcement.”
Tonks nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “That’s right. For a couple of years, now.”
Kathleen gave her a close look. “And you don’t mind it, the way Bernard’s chosen to live his life?”
“I think…” Tonks thought carefully for a moment. “I think the law means a different thing, where I’m from. What I care most about are the larger things wrong with this world. And that’s not any different from Bernard.” She grinned and shrugged. “I’d rather not spend my time catching outlaws if they believe in the same things I do.”
The back door banged open, and Bernard and Dude, both dusty, walked inside. They washed up at the sink, and took their places at the table, as well. Bernard looked from his mother to Tonks and back again, and suddenly looked rather nervous.
Tonks’ forehead creased. “All right there, Bernard?”
Startled, he looked up at her, and then around the table, at his parents bickering good-naturedly over the sandwiches. “Yeah,” he said softly, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Yeah. I’m all right, Nymphadora.”
She followed his gaze, and then reached under the table for his hand, grasping it briefly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Bernard looked puzzled. “For what?”
“For trusting me enough to bring me here.”
“I’d take you anywhere,” he said honestly, and then flushed at his own boldness.
But Tonks just grinned slyly. “I’ll remember that, next time Crowley and I start to get a hankering for Barbados.”
***
They stayed as long as they could, but Bernard knew by that evening that staying any longer would only make the leaving harder, in the end. He put on a brave face as he embraced his parents. He hadn’t told them about being Bound, obviously, so he couldn’t really let on that it might be the last time.
Tonks swore to herself, as she watched the three of them holding on to one another, that it wouldn’t be.
She picked up her shoulder bag, and was startled to suddenly find herself in the very strong arms of Dude. “You come back now, Nymphadora. You come back now.”
Tonks smiled and hugged him back. “I’ll try, Dude. Thank you.”
Kathleen reached for her, as well, and Tonks heard the faintest of whispers in her ear as she hugged Bernard’s mother. “Take care of him.”
All she could do was nod.
Bernard’s eyes were red-rimmed as he led Tonks out the back door, looking over his shoulder to wave at his parents as they followed them outside. Then he looked over at Tonks, forcing a smile. “Any ideas on how we get back?” he asked.
She looked back at Dude and Kathleen watching them, and gave them a grin as she replied. “Well. Let’s at least get out of sight.”
So they walked back through the fields the way they came, Tonks keeping a watchful eye on the surveillance teams that still lined the roads nearby. She checked the wards. All in place.
“I think we need a door,” she said abruptly.
“A door?” Bernard asked, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “Well, there’s always the Farnsworth’s old shed. Haven’t used it for years.” He pointed to a small rickety building on the crest of the next hill. “I, er.” Bernard grinned and flushed. “Used to go there with Betsy Farnsworth, actually.”
Now it was Tonks’ turn to raise an eyebrow. “Ah. I see.”
To her surprise, it was a bit harder to return his smile than it usually was.
They soon reached the shed, both of them staring at the doorknob with some amount of apprehension. “Well,” Bernard said finally. “We’ll never know unless we try. Otherwise –”
“Otherwise I hope Washington’s a nice place to live.” She grinned and nudged his arm gently. “Go on, then.”
He looked at her for a long moment, and then nodded. “Right. Here goes.”
Bernard reached for the knob, and the door swung open with a creak. Suddenly the familiar sounds of clinking glasses and chairs scraping on an ancient hardwood floor washed over them, and they both breathed a sigh of relief.
“Welcome home,” Tonks said, and followed him back into Milliways.
For some reason, she hesitated, and she felt her cheeks flush slightly.
But then she squared her shoulders, and rapped on the door.
A second later, it flew open, and Bernard grinned at her. “Tits!” he cried jovially. “Come on in, I’m almost ready.” He stood aside to let her through and took her bag, setting it down on the chair. “Good Christmas?”
Tonks nodded and smiled back at him. “Yeah. Yeah, it was really nice. Had a grand time with the Weasleys on Sunday. Came away with all my limbs, and everything. And it‘s good to remember how much I love my mum and dad.”
Bernard’s face softened as he put a shirt into his holdall. “Know what you mean.” He glanced back up at her, dark blue eyes suddenly serious. “I’m glad I get the chance to see them again. One more time.”
“It might not be the last,” she ventured, sitting down on the bed. “We’ll just make the most of this visit, and you never know what could happen in the future.”
He shrugged, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I live in hope.”
Tonks grinned. “You and Crowley. Perpetual optimists.”
“Somebody’s gotta do it.” Bernard cleared his throat and looked away, busying himself with packing his sketchpad and pencils. “So, uh. You… recovered all right from our night of drunken debauchery?” He scrutinized one graphite point as if it held the secrets to the universe. “No ill effects?”
Tonks laughed out loud. “No, other than a bugger of a headache, which I took care of within five minutes of waking up. Truth be told, the whole evening’s a bit of a blur. I barely remember how I got home.” She blinked, as the memory of Bernard drunkenly kissing the tip of her nose surfaced, and she felt her cheeks going slightly pink. She breathed a silent sigh of relief that his back was still turned.
Bernard smiled that odd, private smile again. “Good.” He refolded a shirt so that it fit better into the bag. “Did you…like your present?”
“Oh, Bernard.” She caught his hand, and he looked back at her. “It was so very lovely. Really, I just…thank you. So much.”
He ducked his head and shrugged self-consciously. “You’re welcome. I thought it might be useful. And. The painting…” Bernard nodded to the wall over the bed, and Tonks turned and saw the O’Keeffe hanging just where she’d pictured it.
“D’you like it? Is it okay?” She bit her lip, looking back at him over her shoulder.
“Hey.” He tugged on her hand and pulled up her upright, wrapping her in a tight hug and grinning. “It’s perfect. I love it, Nymphadora. Thank you.”
Tonks relaxed slightly and squeezed him back. “Good.” She took a step backwards and matched his smile. “That’s good.”
He checked his bag one last time, and then zipped it up. “Okay. You ready?”
“Ready to go back in time to someplace I’ve never been and meet your adopted parents?” Her smile turned slightly nervous. “Sure. Bring it on…Oh!” She pulled out her wand. “One Glamour Spell, coming right up?”
Bernard nodded, scrubbing a hand through his bright red hair. “Yeah, probably a good idea…just in case.”
Tonks waved her wand, and his red hair faded to a pale blonde color. His freckles ran together until his skin was a darker tan, though the faint network of scars was still visible. She nodded smartly, satisfied, and turned him towards the mirror.
He blinked, and then a slow grin spread across his face. “Groovy,” he said, and then looked at her in the mirror. “You staying with the pink?”
“Nah.” She screwed up her face, and her hair lengthened and darkened to a non-descript brown. “I’d best go incognito.” Tonks fished in her pocket and produced a hair tie, pulling her locks back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck.
Bernard smiled at her, reaching around to gently tug on her hair. “All right, chameleon. Let’s go.” Then he picked up their bags on the way out the door, and they walked towards the main entrance of the bar.
“Same as last time, d’you reckon?” she asked.
“Only one way to find out,” he said, opened the door, and stepped over the threshold. Then he took her hand, and pulled her out after him.
It was late afternoon when Bernard and Tonks abruptly found themselves in a field of onions somewhere in the vicinity of Walla Walla, Washington. And it was also very clearly not December. Tonks dropped Bernard’s hand and pulled her wool jumper off, tying it around her waist. Then she caught a glimpse of his face, and grinned.
Bernard was just staring, drinking in the rolling hills and endless blue sky. Then he focused on a farmhouse on the nearest crest of land, and his smile widened. “There it is,” he said, touching her shoulder lightly and pointing. “That’s home.”
She nodded, her eyes roving swiftly over the area surrounding the farm. She could see unmarked cars parked at strange places along the road, and a pickup truck along one of the neighboring farms’ field paths. She pulled her wand. “I’m going to do a Warding Spell. That’ll make sure the police can’t see anything out of the ordinary at the farm. So far as they’re concerned, things will look normal. And, even if they try to get in, they won’t be able to.”
He stood back a moment as she closed her eyes and concentrated. She muttered an incantation under her breath, waved her wand in a wide arc, and suddenly the air all around them shimmered. “There,” she said with satisfaction, opening her eyes. “All set.”
They walked slowly over the fields, Tonks smiling at the bare-wood house and faded red barn. A few apple trees lined the dusty lane, and the sunlight glanced sharply off the windows of the house.
A hundred yards away from the house, a tall figure emerged from the barn, slowing to a stop and staring in their direction. Tonks could hear Bernard suck in his breath slightly, and his pace quickened. “That’s Dude,” he said, turning to her with a beaming face. “That’s my dad.”
She grinned back at him and pushed him ahead with a laugh. “Go on, then!”
Bernard took off towards the farmyard, waving madly over his head. Tonks could hear Dude’s excited shouts, and when Bernard reached him, she watched as the two men embraced warmly. A few moments later she caught up to them, hanging back a few steps, awkwardly wondering what to do with herself.
Dude reached out a hand and ruffled Bernard’s hair. “What’s this? What’s this? Where’s your red gone, boy?”
Bernard grinned and batted Dude’s hand away, looking like a teenager. “Just don’t want to get recognized, that’s all. It’s not permanent.”
The older man nodded, looking a bit graver. “Not staying, then? Not staying?” He looked more closely at his son, taking in the scars on his face and arms. “You been hurt?”
Self-consciously, Bernard covered over the scar on his forearm that spelled out DEATH, but nodded all the same. “Yeah. While back. I’m all right now.”
Dude’s face clouded over. “Still in one piece. Still in one piece. Long as you’re okay.” Then his eyes drifted over to Tonks, noticing her for the first time. “Well! But who’s this? Who’s this?”
Bernard turned back to Tonks, his smile returning, and beckoned her forward. “Dude, this is –”
“Nymphadora.” Tonks offered Dude a smile, and stepped forward, holding out her hand.
“Nymphadora? Nymphadora?” Dude winked at her, pumping her hand up and down. “Hell of a name. Almost as funny as his. Almost as funny as his.”
She grinned. “So I hear. I’m very pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Huh!” he said interestedly. “One of those Brits, then, eh? One of those Brits?” He turned to Bernard once more. “That where you been hiding out, boy? England?”
Bernard shrugged and nodded. “Sort of, yeah. I’ve got a job, Dude. A good one. And great friends.” His gaze rested on Tonks for a moment, and she smiled. “I don’t have to run from anyone there.”
Dude clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes full of warmth. “Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it. Come on inside, you two. Kathleen’s just getting dinner started. Just getting dinner started.”
He herded them through the back door, taking their bags and dropping them in the mud room. “Dude?” called a voice from the next room. “Someone come for dinner?”
“Yes ma’am, Kathleen, yes ma’am,” he said, grinning. “Think you might be interested in seeing who it is.”
Bernard led the way into the kitchen, and a petite woman with short dark hair came into view. She was standing at the sink, peeling a potato, which she promptly dropped when she turned around.
“Baby!” she cried, astonished. “You’re – oh, come here!” Kathleen opened her arms, and Bernard crossed the room in two long strides, bending down to hug her tightly.
“Hi, Kathleen,” he said, his voice slightly choked. “Miss me?”
She laughed, pulling away to brush the tears away from her own cheeks, and then hugged him again. “When we didn’t hear anything – oh, but you’re here now, and it’s all right. But your…oh, my…” Now it was Kathleen’s turn to wince at Bernard’s scars.
“He says he’s all right now, Kathleen. All right now.” Dude’s voice was soothing, and his wife nodded and hitched her smile back into place, aiming it now at Tonks.
“And where are my manners? We’ve got company!”
“This’s Nymphadora, Kathleen. Nymphadora.” Dude propelled her forward slightly, his large hand on her shoulder.
Kathleen raised her eyebrows and reached over to shake Tonks’ hand. “Oh, what an interesting name, my dear. Quite…provocative, isn’t it?”
Tonks flushed and smiled. “Yeah, my mum’s got a bit of a sense of humor.”
“So it seems. And you’re Bernard’s –”
“Nymphadora’s one of my friends from my new job,” Bernard broke in quickly, his pulse quickening. “I invited her along to visit. She’s been…she and the others have been great. They take care of me.”
Giving Bernard an indecipherable look, Kathleen smiled and pulled Tonks into a hug. “Then you’re all right in my book, sweetheart.”
Tonks grinned at Bernard over Kathleen’s shoulder. He smiled back, and seemed to be infinitely more relaxed than he’d been just a moment before.
“Now,” said Kathleen, pulling away and wiping away the last of her tears, “We’ve got to see about dinner. Nymphadora, how are you in the kitchen?”
“Er,” said Bernard hastily, “think I’d better help with dinner, Kathleen. Dude, maybe you could show her the barn?”
“Be glad to. Be glad to.” Dude adjusted his belt and held open the back door again. “Come on then, my girl. Come on. I’ll tell you all about the magical world of onion farming.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Tonks saw Bernard bite back a snicker at the word magical.
As soon as Dude and Tonks were outside, Kathleen turned to her son with a sharp knowing look and raised one eyebrow. “Now, how about you tell me about this girl you’re in love with.”
Bernard turned bright red and spluttered.
“You can peel potatoes while you do it.”
Tonks did indeed know a great deal more about onion farming after an hour with Dude than she’d ever imagined possible. She’d also been given a ride on a combine, and had been very close to shrieking with laughter at the thought of what Crowley would say when she told him that. She patted the roll of bandages in her pocket and grinned to herself, pleased that she’d managed to not get herself mangled in the gigantic farm equipment.
She’d keep the bit about tripping spectacularly over the chicken coop fence to herself, though.
Dinner was a noisy affair. Bernard had clearly picked up his love of story-telling from Dude, and the two men spent the night trying to outdo one another, resulting in the four of them gasping with laughter at regular intervals. Bernard and Tonks told them a bit about Milliways, or at least the parts that could be told without revealing its location at the end of the universe, or the fact that a good three-quarters of the clientele (including Tonks herself) were some brand of the magical persuasion.
Bernard didn’t mention Fleur, and Tonks knew better than to bring her up when he was so happy.
Dude brought out a few bottles of wine, and they stayed at the dining room table late into the night. Eventually, the elder two bade them good night, leaving Tonks and Bernard to themselves.
Tonks grinned at him, taking a sip of her wine. “I like them. Very much.”
He beamed. “They’re wonderful. They just…they get me.”
“Yeah. They do.”
Bernard gazed at her for a moment longer, and then hauled himself up out of his seat. “Come on. Have to show you something.”
She stood up, curious, and followed him out the back door. It was pitch black, and she groped for his shoulder, stumbling a bit on the uneven ground. He guided them over to the edge of the nearest field and hopped up onto the fence, legs dangling. She clambered up next to him. “So,” she said. “What am I looking at?”
He nudged her gently and pointed up. “That.”
Tonks looked up, and gasped. The sky was full of more stars than she’d ever seen before, and they actually moved, way out here in the middle of nowhere. Even Hogwarts astronomy lessons didn’t hold a candle to this.
“Looks like the sky’s on fire,” she whispered. “Like it’s smoldering.”
“Doesn’t it?” His voice was reverent. “It’s not even like this over the lake.”
“’S cause the sky over the lake is magically-made,” Tonks said thoughtfully. “Magic is…magic is wonderful. Magic is me.” She grinned mischievously, sobering after a moment. “But sometimes it doesn’t even come close to what nature produces all on its own. Stars. Fire. Snow.”
Bernard chuckled. “Kind of surprised we don’t have any snow now, actually. I think it’s the end of summer here, judging by the crop.”
She grinned into the darkness at him. “And here I brought along the new gloves and scarf Remus gave me for Christmas and birthday. Silly me.”
There was a horrified silence, and then Bernard’s voice was all but a squeak. “…Birthday?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention? Yeah, my birthday was on Boxing Day.”
“No…no, it must have slipped your mind. Christ, Tonks, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He sounded anguished.
“Hey. It’s not big deal, honestly. Just a birthday. I’ll have more.” She grinned, nudging his knee with hers.
He slid down off the fence, finally offering her a smile through the darkness. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand to help her down. “Let’s head inside.”
After he saw Tonks into bed in the guest room, Bernard walked slowly to his room and flipped on the light.
Just as he'd left it.
The desk was covered with metal bits and wires in an obscene snarl which admitted no view of the rough wood below. His annotated copy of The Anarchist's Cookbook was on the shelf next to his old Norton Anthologies from school.
He lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
They were getting older. No matter how solidly they supported him, his life was taking a toll on them. They were watched all the time, and it would never stop.
Still, it had been good to sit down with them, to talk with them. To see them.
To be looking across the table he ate dinner at every night for fourteen years and see Tonks sitting there talking to Dude about this year's crop as if she belonged.
To glance over at Kathleen and catch her eyeing him significantly.
He chuckled softly and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, grinding his teeth a little.
The situation was ridiculous.
He was the fucking Woodpecker, for Christ's sake. Second only to Don Juan for sheer fucking cocksmanship (and that was only because Don Juan wasn't in fucking jail half the time, was he?). There had to be a way to work the situation.
Nymphadora Tonks was worth the risk, even if the risk involved dragons with nasty, sharp, pointy teeth. And he was no stranger to fire.
Kathleen was far too knowing for her own good.
Dude wouldn’t hear of her helping with the chores, and Kathleen shooed her out of the kitchen, so Tonks took a long walk through the field. She watched as Bernard and Dude stood amongst the onions, pulling one up to see how it was coming along. It was strange, thinking of Bernard as a farmer. But that’s the life he’d grown up with.
She wandered back into the house just as Kathleen was putting lunch on the table. “So,” the older woman said. “Bernard tells me you’re in law enforcement.”
Tonks nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “That’s right. For a couple of years, now.”
Kathleen gave her a close look. “And you don’t mind it, the way Bernard’s chosen to live his life?”
“I think…” Tonks thought carefully for a moment. “I think the law means a different thing, where I’m from. What I care most about are the larger things wrong with this world. And that’s not any different from Bernard.” She grinned and shrugged. “I’d rather not spend my time catching outlaws if they believe in the same things I do.”
The back door banged open, and Bernard and Dude, both dusty, walked inside. They washed up at the sink, and took their places at the table, as well. Bernard looked from his mother to Tonks and back again, and suddenly looked rather nervous.
Tonks’ forehead creased. “All right there, Bernard?”
Startled, he looked up at her, and then around the table, at his parents bickering good-naturedly over the sandwiches. “Yeah,” he said softly, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Yeah. I’m all right, Nymphadora.”
She followed his gaze, and then reached under the table for his hand, grasping it briefly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Bernard looked puzzled. “For what?”
“For trusting me enough to bring me here.”
“I’d take you anywhere,” he said honestly, and then flushed at his own boldness.
But Tonks just grinned slyly. “I’ll remember that, next time Crowley and I start to get a hankering for Barbados.”
They stayed as long as they could, but Bernard knew by that evening that staying any longer would only make the leaving harder, in the end. He put on a brave face as he embraced his parents. He hadn’t told them about being Bound, obviously, so he couldn’t really let on that it might be the last time.
Tonks swore to herself, as she watched the three of them holding on to one another, that it wouldn’t be.
She picked up her shoulder bag, and was startled to suddenly find herself in the very strong arms of Dude. “You come back now, Nymphadora. You come back now.”
Tonks smiled and hugged him back. “I’ll try, Dude. Thank you.”
Kathleen reached for her, as well, and Tonks heard the faintest of whispers in her ear as she hugged Bernard’s mother. “Take care of him.”
All she could do was nod.
Bernard’s eyes were red-rimmed as he led Tonks out the back door, looking over his shoulder to wave at his parents as they followed them outside. Then he looked over at Tonks, forcing a smile. “Any ideas on how we get back?” he asked.
She looked back at Dude and Kathleen watching them, and gave them a grin as she replied. “Well. Let’s at least get out of sight.”
So they walked back through the fields the way they came, Tonks keeping a watchful eye on the surveillance teams that still lined the roads nearby. She checked the wards. All in place.
“I think we need a door,” she said abruptly.
“A door?” Bernard asked, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “Well, there’s always the Farnsworth’s old shed. Haven’t used it for years.” He pointed to a small rickety building on the crest of the next hill. “I, er.” Bernard grinned and flushed. “Used to go there with Betsy Farnsworth, actually.”
Now it was Tonks’ turn to raise an eyebrow. “Ah. I see.”
To her surprise, it was a bit harder to return his smile than it usually was.
They soon reached the shed, both of them staring at the doorknob with some amount of apprehension. “Well,” Bernard said finally. “We’ll never know unless we try. Otherwise –”
“Otherwise I hope Washington’s a nice place to live.” She grinned and nudged his arm gently. “Go on, then.”
He looked at her for a long moment, and then nodded. “Right. Here goes.”
Bernard reached for the knob, and the door swung open with a creak. Suddenly the familiar sounds of clinking glasses and chairs scraping on an ancient hardwood floor washed over them, and they both breathed a sigh of relief.
“Welcome home,” Tonks said, and followed him back into Milliways.
