Waiting
Author: Sam (buggie21)
Pairings: Remus/Sirius, Remus/Tonks
Rating: M for language and sexual references
Genre: Romance/Angst
Summary: Tonks continues to pursue Remus, but what she doesn't know is that his heart belongs to his best friend, even in death. Set at the end of the summer of HBP.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the great JK Rowling. I am nothing.
Author's Notes: My first official fanfiction! Please review, and don't be afraid to be truthful! If same-sex pairings aren't your cup of tea, however, I suggest that you don't read my work.
Chapter One
Twelve Grimmauld Place was practically in shambles. The late summer evenings were rather hot and humid, only adding to the uncomfortable state of the old building. The occupants were on edge with the thought of the looming war, and, of course, with Sirius' death. As the Order held yet another meeting for all to attend in the vast dining room, Tonks couldn't help but feel a little twinge of excitement. She took her usual spot between Moody and Kingsley and fidgeted for comfort on the once luxurious dining chairs. Any moment the very object of her desires would walk through the doorway and choose a seat, usually settling next to Harry. The woman glanced at the wall clock and sighed. She was head over heels, and the only person who refused to acknowledge this was indeed her soul mate.
At quarter to seven the remaining Order members filed in with little chatter. Things certainly had changed after Sirius' passing, affecting everyone differently. Some simply became quieter, some more focused, and a select couple continued to weep into the wee hours of the night. Tonks wondered if Remus still wept for his friend. No doubt, she thought to herself. They had been so close…
Just as she was drifting on her own personal cloud of wonderment, the man of her most intimate dreams entered the aged dining area. He wore one of his God awful brown cardigans (complete with patches at the elbows), an old pair of slacks that hung loosely at the waist, and scuffed shoes that were probably at least a decade old. His sandy hair was tousled in its usual state, hanging over his left eye, barely covering one of the many scars on his face. Tonks sighed inwardly, deciding that she would be completely content with just looking at this man for the rest of her life. If only he'd look at me, she thought longingly. Just as she was about to avert her eyes to listen to Moody speak, her heart skipped a beat. Remus had caught her shining orbs with his own spectacular blue ones. Tonks couldn't prevent the oncoming spasm in her lower abdomen, nor did she want it to end. Remus visibly shifted in his seat, finally casting his own eyes downward. Tonks caught something uneasy in his expression that she couldn't quite recognize. Was it uncertainty? Question?
She gave up her conquest of trying to read his looks and finally turned her attention back to Moody. Her old mentor didn't hold her concentration for long, however. Approximately twenty minutes into discussing important war tactics, Tonks' gaze drifted across the wooden table to the handsome werewolf. Her eyes expertly found a scar that started under his eye, curved down his chiseled cheek and disappeared into the corner of his mouth. She traced the shape of those gorgeous lips over and over again with her piercing vision, never tiring of them. Just as another voice began dominating the conversation, Moody leaned over and touched Tonks' arm. "You're crazy not to be listening to this meeting, girl." When she didn't acknowledge what he had just said, he went on with, "Quit staring at the poor man." When he still received no reaction, he caught her attention with, "Are you listening to me, Nymphadora?"
Tonks snapped out of her trance with harsh words. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Nymphadora?" She all but shouted at the man, causing a cease in discussion and a boisterous tumult of laughter in its place. Tonks looked around, shocked at the response. She shook out her now flaming red hair and scowled. "Glad I can be such comic relief," she remarked sarcastically, locking eyes with everyone around the table. Her gaze lingered possibly too long on Remus. There was a pang in the woman's chest when the man quickly turned his attention to strike up a conversation with Harry. The witch sat quietly as the conference wore on.
***
The meeting came to a close not long after the blatant outburst from Tonks. As everyone departed to either their rooms or their own homes, Remus lingered in the dining area. He normally stayed to tidy the area out of respect to Sirius, though his old friend never really gave a damn what the foul house looked like. Both she and Remus knew and understood well why Sirius had hated the house with such a bleeding passion, yet both always offered to help. Neither could ever control Kreacher if they tried, so it became an automatic routine for them to clean it themselves. Once she had bid her friends goodbye and saw them off to their respectful places, she too returned to the kitchen space and began picking up.
"You don't need to stay if you don't want to," Remus offered. "It's getting fairly late, and I'd understand if you wanted to head out also."
Tonks studied how the man worked with such precision. Even if he was just sweeping up crumbs, he did so meticulously. She watched him in awe; she loved how he chose not to use magic on small tasks, how he was slightly hunched over while he swept, how his muscles moved with every sweep of the broom... She only focused on what he was saying after he ceased his cleaning.
"Tonks?"
She blinked, trying to remember what he had just said. "Oh, um, I was actually planning on staying here for the rest of the summer," she began, a little nervous. "If that's alright with you, of course," she offered as an afterthought.
"Well, sure it is. There are a couple spare rooms on the next floor up. They haven't really been cleaned thoroughly, I must warn you." He shuttered slightly. Tonks decided not to ask him of his previous findings.
"It's alright, I could crash on the couch," she offered, taking out her wand and flicking her wrist. She knew very well that if she attempted to stack the heavy wooden chairs on top of the table on her own, something utterly horrible would go wrong, what with her lack of gracefulness. "Doesn't bother me any."
Remus emptied his dustpan into the closest trash receptacle. "Why don't you take to my room for the night, then we can straighten things out in the morning?" When he noted the glimmer of hope in her eyes he added, "I'd be sleeping on he couch, of course."
Tonks' expression fell as she processed what he had said. Always so modest and proper, that Remus, she thought with slight remorse. She forced a smile and nodded.
A/N: Well, what do you think? I'd love some feedback!
Sam
