Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her associates. Do not sue. I have no money.

England Means

The room was cold. The temperature of the warm summer air had dropped tonight and she couldn't bring herself to get up and close the window. She pulled the comforter up under her chin a little more snugly and idly wished he was here to close it for her.

Tonks had wanted him back in England. In her naivety and loneliness, she had forgotten that, for him, England would mean missions and missions would mean danger.

In the months since he had been back, she'd found that it was very difficult to sleep without him in what was technically his flat. Much more difficult than it had been to sleep alone in her old flat when he was in Romania. At least then, she had known that he was relatively safe. He was so close now, but so far.

She never knew if he'd come back alive from the missions. She never knew if she'd come back from them, either, but waiting for him was a hundred times worse than being out on a mission herself. Dumbledore never sent them on missions together. She was almost positive he knew about them.

She was just drifting into an uneasy sleep when the bedroom door opened. Feet padded across the room to the window and closed it. There was a rustling of clothes being removed and then the squeaking of springs as he laid down behind her on his side of the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and she nestled her back against his chest.

"You're back," she murmured.

"I'm back," he reassured.

She sighed. He was here. Safe. With her.

"Don't leave again," she asked, knowing he would have to.

"I won't," he answered, knowing it was a lie.

"I love you, Charlie," she whispered.

"I love you, too," he replied.

She closed her eyes and waited for sleep happily this time. Glad that he was home, safe and sound. Glad that she could feel him holding her. Glad that he was there to close the window.

Until the next mission.