A/N - so I am currently in the process of planning out a long fic about Andromeda, and this one-shot/thingy sprang to mind whilst plotting the chapters set during the second war. If anyone wants to read that fic, of which I will publish ch 1 probably next week, follow me!
Oh and just to clear up — my headcanon Remus is bisexual, and was with Sirius during his later years at Hogwarts, which Andromeda refers to near the end.
Remus John Lupin
Remus John Lupin was a kind-hearted and honest man, the quiet, bookish sort, who perhaps looked a little on the unruly side. He was tall and underweight, his robes were worn and clumsily patched in places, his tawny hair was streaked with silver and three thin scars ran diagonally down the length of his face. It wasn't that he was unattractive — no, he was quite the opposite, and Andromeda often found herself sneaking a glance his way — but rather that he always looked so exhausted, so drained, his shoulders rounded in a way that was probably intended to divert attention, but instead simply drew one's gaze toward him. It was something about those eyes; those amber eyes that held so much pain and self loathing, so many dark secrets, those eyes that drifted so often to stare across the room at something that no one else could see. Yes, he was a strange man, and she knew, of course, that he was a werewolf. Andromeda knew all too well how to see past the prejudices of the wizarding world, but those reserved for werewolves were so deeply ingrained that she found herself hesitant to leave her daughter in his wake, and found herself tense when he edged just that small distance too close. She knew that it was wrong of her, and her stomach churned with indescribable guilt, but she couldn't help it.
But as Remus' eyes trailed nervously around the dining room, not daring to meet the Tonks' gazes, they would fall upon Nymphadora, and there was no questioning that there was no one who could be better for her. She would be sat there with that awful pink hair, guffawing with un-ladylike laughter at a ridiculous comment made by her father, and his amber eyes would light up. Remus' lips would quirk up at the corners, he would sit a little straighter, and those eyes would glow with pride and adoration and unmistakable love — and Andromeda would let go of her inhibitions.
It didn't matter that he was thirteen years her senior, it didn't matter that he was reserved and anxious, that he was a werewolf and that they were so different that she couldn't possibly understand their relationship... It no longer mattered that he'd once been in love with her male cousin and that she didn't understand how one could romantically love both a man and a woman, but only that Dora loved him, and he loved her, and Andromeda knew that there was no one more fiercely loyal, and no one who could protect her daughter better than Remus John Lupin.