This story follows Valentine, Done Well in the Transfigured Hearts series, and is set in March of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Part One

"Moony, you daft prat!" Cornering Remus the instant he set foot in the kitchen, Sirius followed his admonition by whacking him on the shoulder with a rolled up Evening Prophet.

"What haven't I done now?" Remus asked heavily.

"You didn't tell me your birthday's this week."

Over his mate's shoulder, Remus saw Tonks at the table, quill in hand, sniggering to herself. "How many years have you known me, Padfoot?" he asked.

"How old are we?"

"We met twenty-five years ago."

As the words left his mouth, Remus winced. He had been mates with Sirius for longer than Tonks had been alive. At least if she were paying attention – and she might not be; she was hunched over and intent on something – she did not seem to care. Even so, the thought combined with fatigue and stiff joints to make Remus feel every day – and then some – of his age. Why on earth was Tonks wasting her time going out with him?

"That's a sodding long time," said Sirius.

"Precisely," Remus said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Shouldn't you know my birthday by now without my telling you?"

Sirius' barking laugh rang out as he strode to the table and sat the wrong way on a chair, propping his arms on the back. "Have I ever known anyone's birthday without being told?"

"Only your own."

Remus crossed the room to Tonks, who immediately tilted her pretty face up for a kiss. Despite the previous moment's self-deprecation, he did not hesitate with his affection.

"Wotcher, Remus," Tonks murmured as he drew back.

"Hello." Remus returned her smile. Hand resting on her shoulder, his eyes swept the table, which was littered with scrolls and leather-bound journals. "Scrimgeour loaded you up with paperwork, I see."

Tonks pulled a face. "I thought to get some of it out of the way before our meeting, but Sirius is more entertaining."

"I never got much homework or studying done with Sirius around," said Remus.

"Isn't it nice that some things never change?" Sirius turned in his chair to face them and drummed his fingers on the old oak table. "I've been brainstorming ideas for your birthday present. What d'you want, Remus?"

"Nothing." Remus drew a paper-wrapped parcel from the inner pocket of his robes and set it on the counter. "That's one reason I didn't mention my birthday."

"What d'you mean you don't want presents?" asked Sirius, looking completely baffled. "Tonks, did you get him anything?"

She shot Remus a look of mild annoyance. "No."

He quickly looked away, absorbing himself with opening a cupboard and hunting for a goblet. While Tonks had conceded to his request not to buy him anything, she had done so with great reluctance, which she did not bother to hide whenever the subject of his birthday arose. It wasn't that Remus was opposed to gifts; it was that he was in no position to return the favour as well as set a little aside for the occasional nice date – and he hardly wanted his birthday to become an excuse for Tonks, or others, to buy him things he lacked but had learnt to do without. He was not a charity case.

"Not yet you mean," Sirius said to Tonks. "You can buy my present when you go shopping. Or better yet, you could take your dog Snuffles, who's got a knack for selecting birthday gifts."

Without looking up from her parchment, Tonks replied, "I'll turn you in before I take you out where Lucius Malfoy might see you."

While Remus silently blessed Tonks for having a good head on her shoulders and a firm way with Sirius, he braced himself for his mate's pleas. However, Sirius merely scowled, then appeared to forget the discussion completely as his gaze lit on Remus' parcel.

"What's that?" he asked. "Get yourself a birthday present, Moony? Accio parcel."

"Sirius—" was all Remus managed to say before Sirius had ripped away the paper to reveal a dark brown bottle.

"Firewhiskey?"

Tonks shot Remus an arch look, and he actually grinned. "If you drink that, Padfoot, make sure you are looking in my direction. I should like to see your face."

"Wolfsbane Potion?" Tonks gave a snort of laughter.

"Indeed." Remus summoned the bottle from Sirius' slackened grip.

"S'moon week already?" Sirius rose to check the wall calendar.

"You've really got to start paying attention to other people's lives," said Tonks absently.

"And therein lies the other reason I did not mention my birthday," Remus said. "By no means do I want the Order to get wind and throw a party. I simply am not up to celebrating—"

"You're at least doing something with Tonks, aren't you?" Sirius interrupted.

"She's having me over to her flat for dessert."

"Dessert." Sirius waggled his eyebrows.

"Yes," said Tonks. "Cake."

"Not baked by you, I hope," said Sirius. "Mousse has more erotic possibilities."

"It's not a good idea to harass Aurors who've got the Black temper," Tonks said. "And no, I'm not baking the cake. Molly's sending one."

"Y'know how we ought to celebrate," said Sirius. "Moony and Padfoot should run around the Forbidden Forest."

As Remus emptied the contents of the bottle into the goblet the pungent potion permeated his nostrils, making his stomach turn before he'd even drunk it.

"Please tell me, Sirius," he said, "that you do not honestly think I would transform right under Umbridge's nose."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist." Sirius' dark brows knit in perturbation. "Course I don't. Though, s'dreadfully easy to break out of Azkaban these days…."

"Unfortunately." Tonks glowered at her paperwork, which Remus assumed must detail investigations into the whereabouts of the escaped Death Eaters.

Remus tried not to breathe through his nose as he took the first sip of Wolfsbane, but even a dulled sense of smell could not block out the acrid taste of the potion. Despite his best efforts, he grimaced and choked, counting it a small miracle he swallowed the stuff at all.

"Merlin, Moony!" Sirius' voice reverberated through the kitchen. "Will you never get used to the taste?"

Remus, who was doing his utmost not to regurgitate the potion, returned, "Will you never stop being a prat?"

In his peripheral he saw Tonks watching intently, features etched with concern.

"I know it's your time of the month," said Sirius, "but don't be narky."

"That joke lost its humour during our second year at Hogwarts," said Remus, rolling his eyes. "And I wouldn't be narky if you wouldn't be an idiot."

Sirius raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I was expressing concern. It's surprising to see you get dramatic about something like a taste, that's all."

Though slightly chagrined at having misjudged Sirius, the sickening stench of the potion as Remus raised the goblet to his lips again combined with his irritable mood to make him snipe, "Yes well, you should work on not being insensitive when you want people to know you care."

"But insensitive's Sirius' middle name," said Tonks with a wink.

Sirius grinned cheekily and flopped into the chair across from her, propping his feet on the table. Oddly, after Remus choked down another sip of Wolfsbane Potion, he found his perturbation toward Sirius ebbing.

"I suppose," he said, meeting Sirius' grey eyes levelly as he slid into the seat next to Tonks, "asking you not to be insensitive is the equivalent of asking myself not to sprout fur six nights from now."

Sirius' grin widened.

"At risk of sounding insensitive," said Tonks, touching Remus' knee, "does your potion taste as awful as it smells?"

"Worse." He moved the goblet to the opposite side so that she would not smell it as strongly. She frowned deeply, and he squeezed her hand. "A bad taste is a small price to pay for keeping my mind during transformations."

Tonks eyed the goblet suspiciously. "There's nothing you can do to improve it?"

"When Severus brewed it for me," Remus said, "I thought perhaps he added something to make it taste foul, and I even wondered if he were lying about sugar rendering it useless. But of course I did not dare risk it."

"I'm with Harry," said Sirius darkly, "I can't believe Snape never tried to poison you."

"Severus would not poison me," said Remus tolerantly, "but I would not put it past him to make something taste unpleasant." Finishing off the potion, he said, "However, it is not so. This brew from Knockturn Alley is—"

"—far inferior to mine," came Snape's oily tones from the doorway.

Sirius dropped his feet to the floor and twisted around in his chair as all three looked up sharply to see Snape, sneering down his hooked nose. Remus' gaze dropped as he clutched the goblet tightly, lowering it beyond Snape's line of vision.

As mortifying as it was to have been caught by the very person of whom he was speaking ill, Remus was more humiliated by the way Tonks regarded him with round, distressed eyes.

Softly, she asked, "Is it really an inferior brew?"

He could only imagine how Tonks would react if she knew the potion he could afford was not, by any stretch, perfect and that he experienced considerably more pain during transformations than he had during the year he taught at Hogwarts. Thankfully he did not have to answer her, because Sirius was speaking.

"Not that you can see it through that greasy fringe, Snivellus," he drawled, "but the Noble and Most Ancient Wall Clock of Black says you're fifteen minutes early for tonight's meeting. So why don't you go back to your dungeon and take a shower?"

A look crossed Snape's features that made Remus think for a moment he would hex Sirius. When Snape refrained from casting a levicorpus, Remus was mildly impressed – until Snape could not resist retorting.

"The juvenility of your invectives never ceases to astound me, Black," said Snape. Hard black eyes shifting to Remus, he stepped further into the kitchen. "If you are concerned about being poisoned, Lupin, you should consider buying the Wolfsbane Potion from apothecaries capable of passing my NEWT class."

"I passed your NEWT class with top marks," Tonks chirped.

Her lilting voice sounded out of place amid the tense atmosphere, but Remus welcomed it – though she had set herself up as the next target for Snape's scorn. Remus silently pleaded that Snape would brush her off, as he had done Sirius. But like so many other wishes, that one went ungranted.

"You are fortunate, Nymphadora," said Snape in tone that made Remus bristle, "that I did not deduct marks for every phial you broke. If I had done, you would have a less prestigious career."

Tonks eyed the papers strewn around her. "At the moment, I wouldn't mind."

"Speaking of careers, Lupin," said Snape, "obviously you are no more adept with women—"

"Jealous unsexed wanker," muttered Sirius, who, Remus thought, was hardly in the position to scorn other people's nonexistent love lives.

"—than you are at obtaining gainful employment," Snape continued, "or Nymphadora would be supplying you with quality Wolfsbane Potion."

Remus clutched the goblet so tightly he wondered that it did not shatter in his hand. Seldom did he take Snape's insults to heart, but this hit too close to his insecurities. Surely others shared the view that Remus was taking advantage of Tonks.

But Tonks merely said, "Remus isn't a freeloader, Severus."

"What a pity Trelawney did not predict your unfortunate choice of mate," said Snape. "You would be more useful to Lupin as a potion brewer than an Auror – though in considerably more danger."

Sirius' eyes flashed, and his hands balled into fists as he drew in his breath with a sharp hiss. Remarkably, he did not lash back, but looked expectantly to Remus and Tonks.

"You're a student of the Dark Arts," replied Tonks, "so you know werewolves who transform alone, with a week's regimen of Wolfsbane Potion, aren't a danger to anyone."

Remus was amazed by Tonks' calm response to Snape's bait; several months past, a newspaper article that made reference to "werewolf Remus Lupin" had got her in quite a state of agitation. Not only was her demeanour mild, but she did not appear to be seething beneath the surface. Her eyes held a thoughtful expression, as though she were contemplating something else entirely. It put Remus off-balance. What was going on inside that head of vivid pink hair?

Sirius, apparently quite displeased that Tonks was failing to display the Black temper of which she had earlier boasted, pounded the table. "Damn it, Snape! If you really cared about the Order, you'd brew the bloody potion! I can't believe Dumbledore doesn't make you—"

"It seems to escape you, Black," Snape interrupted, "that not every Order member has enough leisure time to be charitable."

The last word was directed at Remus and made him cringe.

"Perhaps," Snape went on, "I could find time to brew Wolfsbane Potion if I delegated one of my disagreeable Order duties – such as teaching Occlumency to teenagers who are too arrogant to practice."

On his feet now, Sirius roared, "I WARNED YOU ABOUT GIVING HARRY A HARD TIME!"

Seeing Sirius was reaching for his wand, Remus stood and restrained him with a hand on his shoulder. Glaring, Sirius shrugged him off, but made no further move.

"Harry has not been practicing Occlumency?" Remus asked.

"It hardly comes as a surprise to me," said Snape, "considering the arrogant, shiftless adult influences in his life."

'YOU FILTHY SODDING—!"

"FILTHY BLOOD TRAITORS!" shrieked Mrs. Black from the corridor above.

Remus bolted to help whomever had set off the portraits – the Weasleys, most likely, considering the epithet "blood traitors." As he ascended the staircases, he heard Tonks say, "Severus, could I have a word?"

Glancing back at her, Remus saw her mouth set in a grim line, her dark eyes hard with determination. There was only one thing she could possibly have to discuss with Snape: Wolfsbane Potion. Remus nearly told her no, that he didn't need her to fight this battle, that it could not be fought. He refrained. The last thing he wanted to do was rebuke Tonks in front of Snape. And there was a possibility that she had some other business to discuss with him. If Remus jumped to conclusions, what did that say about his respect and trust for her?

Yet that did not stop his stomach from churning as he struggled with Arthur to silence the portrait and keep her quiet as other Order members arrived. When he went back to the kitchen where the meeting would be held, he passed Tonks and Snape in the stairwell.

Though Tonks' back was turned to him, Remus caught snatches of her whispers: "…don't like Remus…make the potion…"

Snape's gaze flicked over the top of Tonks' head, settling coldly on Remus. "The potion is extremely tedious to brew."

"But…" Tonks glanced over her shoulder, and Remus hurried into the kitchen as she dropped her voice. "…time…long run…"

It was positively sickening to hear Tonks pleading with Snape on his behalf, but Remus' insides turned hollow with astonishment when he heard Snape say tersely, "Fine."

Remus stopped dead in his tracks a few paces in the doorway. Fine? Had Snape really said fine, or had one of the Order members filtering into the kitchen said it? Snape could not have agreed to resume making Wolfsbane Potion.

"Right then," said Tonks crisply. "Thanks, Severus, I'll be in contact."

She'd done it. Tonks had talked Snape into it. No doubt she had agreed to pay for his services; there was no way Snape would do it free of charge, not for Remus, not after more than twenty years of bad blood between them, including the most recent events that had led to Remus' resignation from Hogwarts.

"Get Auntie quiet?" Tonks asked, approaching from behind. She slipped her hand into his, but Remus did not close his fingers around it. Stiffening, she stepped back from him and asked, "Did you listen in?"

Remus' stomach twisted with guilt, not because she looked at him accusatorially; she looked…disappointed.

"I didn't mean to," he said. "I'm sorry. But Tonks, while I do appreciate your concern about my potion, I don't need Severus to brew—"

"You shouldn't make assumptions based on bits and pieces of overheard conversations, Remus."

Relief smoothed her features as she resumed the seat in which she'd sat earlier and began putting her quill and scrolls and notebooks into a red messenger bag slung over the back of her chair.

"I don't need you to fight my battles," said Remus quietly, sitting next to her. "Especially not ones I've given up."

"I didn't fight your battle," Tonks said.

Across the table, Sirius said sulkily, "Why would anyone fight for you when you never fight for anyone else?"

"That's not fair," Tonks said, looking far more perturbed with her cousin than she had been with Snape.

"Isn't it?" Sirius returned.

Noting the raised eyebrows of others coming to the table, and Snape's self-satisfied sneer as he skulked in the corner, Remus intervened, "Now is not the time to discuss it."