"Honestly, Mad-Eye, it's nothing to worry about. I'm a bit under the weather, is all, there's no dark magic about a head cold," at this, the young woman holds up a small bottle with a worn label, "I'll have a sip and be better by morning, honest. If you'd just let me have a rest, I might've been better already."
As her mentor exits the room, Tonks has to refrain from rolling her eyes, reminding herself that Moody is very likely watching through the walls, waiting for her to do so. She drinks a last sip of the potion, hoping that it will take at least a bit of an immediate effect. What good was being a witch if she still had to suffer from a bloody bout of the common cold?
However effective the antidote might prove to be, she thinks, it's making her restless, not to mention short of temper.
She closes her eyes, and as she hears the door open again, she uncharacteristically snipes, "Moody, for the last damned time, I'm-" She abruptly forgets what she was planning on yelling at the old intruder, as she opens her eyes to find that it is not, in fact, Mad-Eye Moody.
"You're . . . having difficulty sleeping and would very much like something to help you with that predicament? I suppose that's what was coming next, anyway," says Remus Lupin, giving her a crooked grin and holding up a small bottle that is not unlike the one she had just emptied.
Fighting back an inevitable blush, Tonks mutters something along the lines of "Of course," and gratefully takes the additional potion from the tired looking man who had seated himself next to her. The old Grimmauld Place bed creaks under their combined weight, the slight movement more than enough to make her head spin. Trying hard to ignore his closeness, Tonks eyes the potion, taking in 'three hours of undisturbed sleep' and a side-effect list ranging from drowsiness to death. Shrugging, she holds the bottle up in a weak toast, putting all of her effort towards not spilling the liquid in front of the object of her affection.
Tonks has just enough time to grumble a sincere 'thanks' before sleep finally claims her.
A sharp pang of some unwanted emotion threads through Remus Lupin's conscience, watching the young Auror before him fall into a dreamless sleep. He loathes himself for being attracted to her - he's too old, he's too bloody dangerous -
You spend an inordinate amount of time convincing yourself that you're capable of human companionship, and then push away the most humane feeling of all.
The voice in his head sounds unbearably like Albus Dumbledore, and the more he tries to ignore it the more aware he becomes of the fact that it's quite as stubborn as he.
Stubborn, he muses, stubborn like the desire to lie down next to her right now and drift into the same blissfully empty sleep.
Choosing to listen to the old wizard's voice instead of his own objecting morales, Remus lays down beside her, looking wearily at his watch and at the three-hour promise of the discarded potion bottle.
It's hardly twenty minutes later that a wide-eyed Sirius Black comes into the room, consequentially gawking at his old friend as though he had sprouted a second head or, perhaps, morphed into a werewolf.
"Fancied a kip with my cousin, eh, Moony?" He doesn't sound angry, but Remus still has the decency to look abashed.
"Just making sure nothing goes wrong, you'd have my head for it, Padfoot," he attempts in embarrassment, torn between acting natural and separating himself from Tonks' side.
He chooses the former, staying where he is and throwing what he hopes is a calm, cool, collected look at Sirius, who scoffs in return, "Of course, mate, you've got to be careful of those sleeping potions." With that, he leaves the room, muttering something along the lines of Moody making everyone in the residence more paranoid than usual.
How did three hours turn into ten minutes? Remus rises hurriedly, careful not to disturb the peacefully sleeping figure beside him, though he knows she won't wake for another few moments. Psychosomatically scolding himself for succumbing to his affection, he strides out of the room hastily.
When Tonks awakes, she scowls at the realization that she's not feeling much better. The fact that the last thing she'd seen before drifting off had been his face probably didn't help - leave it to her to have a disturbed potion-induced sleep.
All because of him being too damn old and too damn poor and, of course, his favorite, too bloody dangerous.
She scowls again, gaining her bearings as she rises and begins to walk slowly down to the kitchen in search of a warm drink.
She's not surprised to run into her second cousin - he seems to gravitate towards human contact.
"Oh, look whom it is, my dearest cousin Nymphadora. How was your nap?"
Tonks eyes him warily, conscious of the mischief in his sing-song voice. "What are you on about, now?"
"Oh, come on. Lying with the lycanthrope. Resting with Remus. Mingling with Moon-"
"Honestly, Sirius. Points for alliteration, but I can't say I know what you're referring too. And the last one didn't even fit, you know," she sighs; none of Tonks' Auror training could have prepared her for dealing with a bored Sirius Black. Especially not in her current state - wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep, she looks at her companion expectantly.
"The git! He'd've left before you woke up, of course, the coward. What with being-"
"Too old and whatnot, so I've heard," Tonks finishes angrily. Besides being highly embarrassed at the prospect of being watched as she slept, she had also missed out on three hours with the man she so desperately wanted and was so constantly rejected by.
Apparently able to read her thoughts, Sirius arches a dark eyebrow at the girl while silently wondering if her hair would gain the bright red tinge that it had the last time she'd been this angry. Reveling at the thought of catching his old school friend off guard, he wraps an arm around her shoulder.
"How about a little bit of harmless revenge, eh?"
A/N: The idea's been such a nag, I couldn't resist, although I said I'd never write for Harry Potter. Anyway, it's just a little two-chapter thing, no big deal. Any readers of mine who are joining me on the fandom-hop know that I'm awful with big deals.
I own nothing related to Harry Potter, no matter how much I'd like to have my very own Sneaky Moony and Alliterating Padfoot.
Edited after an unpleasant uploading experience: Why do I feel the need to say that the site admins are being particularly useless lately? X_X