Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series.


"The first night of the cycle is always the worst…"

Tonks awoke in unexpected agony, feeling as though she had been beaten several times in the stomach. Her legs were stiff and her lower back ached considerably. She rubbed her eyes and then ran her hands across her thighs in a vain attempt to sooth the dull pain. She twisted in the sheets slowly, trying to find the most comfortable way to lie, but in vain.

As her body groaned angrily, practically fighting against her, Tonks wracked her brain for the cause of the pain. Relatively, nothing high action had happened in the past week. No dueling, no Death Eaters, no curses. Admittedly, she had tripped on the stairs last night, but she had sustained far worse for such sudden soreness. No, she realized suddenly as she felt something slide down her leg.

Tonks threw the covers off and stormed to the bathroom.

"Merlin's Beard… a week early, too…"

From the bathroom, she heard her husband stir slightly at her exclamation.

"What's wrong?" Remus mumbled, not unused to Tonks' sudden outbursts but to her willing waking this early.

Rifling through her bathroom cabinets with an avid ferocity, she shot back, "Nothing! Go back to sleep. Dear," she added as an after thought. Tonks had a regrettable tendency to gain a quick temper and lack of patience when her little unwanted guest came to visit her every month. And it had become worse, now that there wasn't much to be cheery about.

She continued to search through the drawers fruitlessly, cursing under her breath. Finally giving up, she picked up her wand and said rather unenthusiastically, "Accio tampons."

The desired objects flew through the air, pelting her haphazardly as she yelled in frustration. It was too early in the morning for her to try even the simplest of magic, she decided.

Opening the bathroom door, she stood in its frame and groaned, clutching her side. Her soft bed suddenly seemed very inviting, if not warranted, as she crawled under the sheets. Tonks reveled in the pillow's fluffy comfort as she watched Remus stir unnaturally in his stupor. He had tossed and turned all night, so the sleep Tonks had managed had been half hearted. For the most part, she had grown used to it; at least it no longer caused her an excessive amount of concern. She had learned to accept it as one of the quirks to having a husband who was, well, different.

But as a feeble ray of sunlight flittered through the room, his thrashing was more defined and less normal. Rigid. Animal-like. Remus always got these symptoms right before…

Tonks cursed the stars as she realized that the full moon was right around the corner.

She closed her eyes in frustration, trying to pinpoint the exact date. It wasn't until her covers were yanked away by the werewolf that was Remus Lupin that she tried to stop it.

"Remus," she said softly, touching his shoulder cautiously.

He shrugged off her hand with an annoyed grumble.

"Remus, wake up," she said, her patience already worn thin by Mother Nature.

He rolled over onto his back but did not wake.

"REMUS!" Tonks shouted in aggravation, because now she had an idea that he was just ignoring her.

Indeed, she saw the ends of his mouth twitch slightly into a smile. Tonks, smirking, picked up her pillow and whacked him across the face with it.

He picked up the pillow and threw it across the room giving his wife a disgruntled look. "That wasn't necessary, Dora."

She gave him a look. "You woke up, didn't you?"

He ignored this and grumbled, "What about breakfast then, I'm starving."

Tonks mumbled something about a wolfish appetite but crawled to the kitchen just the same.

When breakfast had been prepared, Remus sat at the table in daze. Tonks followed his gaze over to the calendar and sighed.

"Oi!" she said, swatting a potholder at the back of his head.

Remus rubbed the back of his head absentmindedly but continued to stare at the circled date.

"Honestly, Remus. You look at that thing more than you look at me."

Disregarding this accusation, he gazed as though transfixed by the calendar. Irritated, Tonks suddenly became a very curvaceous blond whose hands sat squarely on her hips.

Remus looked at her, almost critically, before replying, "A bit much for breakfast, don't you think?"
Tonks sighed in exasperation and resumed her normal appearance.

"I think this way suits you much better," Remus said in an obvious attempt to make up for ignoring her.

"Oh, shut up!" Tonks snapped, cracking another egg on the skillet with a wave of her wand.

Remus chewed his toast thoughtfully before asking, "What's biting you?"

Tonks spun around and glared at him angrily, as if he was the reason for her agony.

"Ha, ha, very funny, Remus. How considerate of you to part ways with your beloved calendar for a moment to eat breakfast with your wife," she exclaimed sarcastically.

"Well, the full moon is right around the corner," he argued pointedly.

"And I'm sure you won't miss it, and if you do, it will always come next month," she said bitterly, not entirely talking about the lunar cycle.

Remus gave her a bemused stare as he watched her fingers grip her cup of tea with an unnecessary ferocity. "Oh good lord, it's not your time of the month, is it, Dora?"

She cast him an angry glance followed by a swift nod.

"Is it really worth all of this commotion," he muttered. He might have just signed his death warrant.

"Don't you dare act like you understand, Remus Lupin."
At this, it was his turn to be frustrated. "You know, it's not much different from my condition. Sitting around all month, dreading the day it happens, worried about the plans it will ruin…"

Tonks looked at him, suddenly very pathetic as a menstrual-mood swing hit with immense force. The next moment she was sobbing into his shoulder.

"I'm s-sorry, Remus!" she cried. "I didn't even th-think about that. I guess I'm j-just insensitive, and, and uncaring… Oh, I'm a terrible wife!" she wailed into his shoulder.

Remus actually smiled at this outburst because it was so pathetic and unlike the woman who had beat him down, assuring him what a perfect 'mate' she could be for a werewolf. He rubbed her back gently. "Don't say that, Dora. We're both new to this whole married thing. Give it some time and we'll get the hang of it. A regular Arthur and Molly, I promise," he laughed.

"Minus the seven kids," Tonks corrected softly with a sniff, smiling into his chest. It felt good for him to be the one reassuring her that everything would be alright and not the other way around.

"Regrettably, our life together will be measured in cycles. But, we'll manage. You're cheerful enough that we won't even notice," he teased, kissing her hair that was wavering between various shades of magenta.

"Yeah, I'm sure I won't notice when you're covered in fur and your breath stinks."

Remus laughed in an almost melancholy way, looking at his eggs (sunny-side up as Tonks often made them) with a most glum expression. "I guess we're just a couple of outcasts," he remarked with feeble, fleeting humor.

Tonks smirked. "Speak for your self. I'm still cool," she taunted, leaping from his lap, her hair dancing wildly around her head in a deep sea blue.

The next day, admittedly less cranky, Tonks slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Remus. The day before the full moon, much like the day after, was in some ways just as difficult as the full moon itself. Often brooding and irritable, it was best just to leave Remus to himself.

As she heated a pot of tea, she found that her eyes wandered over to the calendar. She was about to smirk at the circled date when something hit her like a train. That date was not circled to mark the full moon; a note of that was already made in a scrawled handwriting. She had circled the date for a far different reason.

"Damn it," Tonks cursed.

The pot of tea flew off the stove and poured itself into the two teacups sitting on the table. The teacups rattled as the hot liquid overflowed onto the table. Tonks didn't even try to clean up the mess. She sat down at the table, put her head in her hands and sighed.

Tonks didn't know whether to cry or laugh at the terribly insensitive irony.

The following evening, Tonks sat on the window seat, the full moon bathing her face in a pale light. She hugged her knees close to her chest as though trying to restrain herself from pacing around the room impatiently. The clock ticked noisily in the otherwise silent room. She didn't know why she couldn't move away from the window except that, looking out into the darkness, her husband was out there, somewhere.

But finally she pulled herself away and walked to the other side of the room. A small table had been set elaborately, a lacy tablecloth, her mother's best china, illuminating candles whose flames danced across the walls as the only light in the room (besides that of the full moon). Tonks smiled weakly as she approached it; the table would remain set and untouched until daybreak when, if she was hopeful, her husband would return. She sat down in one of the chairs and looked across the table where she had almost childishly placed the frame containing one of the few pictures from their wedding.

Tonks had her arms around his waste as she smiled gleefully. Her hair, a radiant bubblegum pink as had never been seen before, blended harmoniously with the simple white dress she wore. Remus stood with his hands on hers, tall and surprisingly strong looking. Though something about his appearance was still scruffy, he bore an expression that was happily defiant, as though daring the wizarding world to question the marriage.

As she gazed at the moving portrait, she laughed when her side cramped viciously. What was a woman's monthly cycle when her husband was a werewolf. A veritable monster. She smiled at the thought. However difficult, she was content to live her life in correspondence to his cycle.

From the open window she heard an echoing, melancholy howl. Tonks had no doubt as to whom it belonged to, or what it meant.

With a sigh, Tonks smiled and returned the wish, "Happy One Month Anniversary, Remus."


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