Remus/Tonks. I think this'll turn out to be a favorite of mine.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Tonks hummed the Weird Sisters song that was stuck in her head from the concert she just left and gazed around the bar. After the excitement of screaming lyrics at the top of her lungs, a simple butterbeer wasn't going to satisfy her, and Tonks had never really liked firewhiskey. What she wanted was company, someone to talk to.

Her eyes rested on a tired, rumpled-looking man sitting alone a few seats away with a beaten book. He couldn't be more than thirty, but his hair was graying and his face looked permanently stressed. Tonks stood and moved down a few seats, sitting down next to him.

"Wotcher," she said. "I'm Tonks. Have a butterbeer on me."

He barely looked at her. "No thanks."

Tonks's curiosity-turned-pity turned into curiosity again. Who would refuse a free butterbeer from a pretty enough girl? Tonks had never had trouble getting men to play along with her in this form. Bubblegum pink was a good color.

Maybe he was more superficial than he looked. She snorted with laughter at the thought, and when he glanced at her again she realized she had been staring. She looked away and shrugged.

"Suit yourself," she said, and went into the ladies's room.

She leaned against the sink, peering into the mirror. Tonks was bored and the man made an interesting victim. Perhaps she would get more of a response from a blonde, big-breasted beauty?

Tonks left the bathroom and dawdled awhile before turning her attention back on the man. She approached him and sat beside him, but he didn't look up from his book. Mildly frustrated, Tonks decided that she would have to be the one to engage conversation.

"Hello," she said in her most sultry voice.

Again, her response was just a glance. "Hi."

"You look like you could use a firewhiskey. I'll pay." She even fluttered her eyelashes a little.

"Thanks, but I'm fine."

"Really, I'd love to buy you one."

"I don't like firewhiskey."

"Butterbeer, then."

Finally she got more than a glance. He was looking her in the eyes now, an exaggeratedly patient look on his face. "I don't want anything to drink."

Tonks barely refrained from giving an angry huff. "Alright then," she said, and left the bar.

One more try, she thought. Maybe he wants a bookish type like himself. Coming out of an old clothing store, she again looked different. When she sat down next to the man she had long, silky black hair that she had tucked shyly behind her ears, a pretty-but-plain face, and bright brown eyes.

This time she didn't offer him a drink. Obviously he really didn't want one. Instead she caught the bartender's eye. "A butterbeer, please," she said quietly.

Tonks took a swig of her butterbeer, turning so that the man could get a good look at her. She let the silence pass for a few minutes before talking to him. "What are you reading?"

How infuriating. Once again, just a short acknowledgment. He showed her the cover of the book and she read it aloud, "The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. Ah," she nodded. She watched him without another attempt at conversation for several more minutes and soon noticed that he wasn't really reading it. Or if he was, he was reading the same thing over and over again. He hadn't turned the page since she had watched for all she could tell. His eyes weren't moving along the page, either, just resting on a particular spot.

Suddenly something occurred to her-- maybe he wasn't talking to her because he was gay.

And before she could stop herself, she blurted, "Are you gay?"

He started and stared at her in surprise, and Tonks could have hit herself.

"There are a lot of nosy women talking to me today," he said. "Are you all friends? Was it a bet? No, I'm not gay." He seemed exasperated, slightly angry, and a tiny bit amused. It was an emotional combination that Tonks fell in love with.

She morphed back into her normal self right before his eyes. "No! All I want to do is buy you a butterbeer!"

To his credit, he didn't splutter or gape. His eyebrows just shot up. "Metamorphmagus?"

She huffed and held out her hand. "Nymphadora Tonks, Metamorphmagus, Auror, and radical Weird Sisters fan. Call me Tonks or I'll hex you."

He shook her hand. "Remus Lupin. I've... never known someone to be so interested in talking to me," he said dryly.

"I was bored and I wanted some company," Tonks told Remus. "How about that butterbeer, then?"

He chuckled. "Alright. It couldn't hurt."

"Finally! Why are you so set against talking to girls, then, if you're not gay? Are you married?"

Tonks could sense him tensing up, and her curiosity skyrocketed. "No. I-- I'm just not much of a people person."

Tonks could practically feel the underlying reason behind it, and it was something big. Her curiosity had reached desperation. She worked it down, smothering it.

"Oh. Well, I'm a terrible clutz. Everyone has faults." she said cheerfully. "But really, how could you possibly refuse butterbeer from big and blonde?"

He laughed at her exasperation. "Not my type," he grinned. Tonks blinked. With a smile on his face, Remus looked ten years younger.

"I like you," Tonks said. "Friends?"

"Sure."

Tonks smiled brightly. "So why are you at a bar all alone? I came here after a Weird Sisters concert. None of my friends wanted to go. But most guys are always up for a trip to a bar. Are your friends busy?"

Remus's smile faded and Tonks wondered what she had said. "My friends are dead."

The shock hit her like a cold wave. "Dear Merlin, I-- I'm sorry-- what--?"

"Voldemort."

Tonks could only blink. "You say the name."

"Well-- yeah, I'm sorry. Look, I've got to go." And he stood up to leave.

"No no no no, it's all right, you actually just got about a hundred times more interesting in my book!" Tonks pulled him back down. "I'm an Auror, remember, I'm tough."

"I'm not that interesting. I just like to come here and read."

"Oh. But you're still on the same page." she pointed out.

"Don't miss a trick, do you?" He turned the book towards her and pointed at a paragraph. "It's his birthday."

But You-Know-Who's evil reign was thwarted by the one-year-old Harry Potter on October 31st, 1981. When You-Know-Who, for reasons unknown, broke into the Potter house in Godric's Hollow, he succeeded in murdering both James and Lily Potter. But his attempt on their son's life resulted in his own defeat and the return of order to the wizarding world.

"James Potter." Tonks whispered. "He was your friend?"

"We were in the same year at Hogwarts. He accepted me, kept me laughing."

"If you were friends with James Potter, then you were friends with Sirius Black," Tonks realized out loud.

He blinked at her.

"Cousins," Tonks told him. "My mum was a Black, but she married a Muggleborn. She used to tell me stories about other Blacks that got blasted off the family tree."

Remus appeared to be thinking. "Listen, how would you like to meet some of my living friends?"

"I'd be delighted."

Love Tonks.