Firewhisky, Tonks reflected happily, was surely one of the Wizarding world's greatest achievements. Humming softly to herself, she paused at the door of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and tried to remember how in the world doorknobs were supposed to work. Was there really meant to be two of them, and was one really supposed to be orbiting the other? Starting to giggle, Tonks covered her mouth with one hand and shushed herself loudly.
"You'll wake everyone up!" she half-sang to herself, swaying on the spot and simultaneously reaching out her other hand in an attempt to capture the doorknob. As if in answer to her unspoken wish, the door swung open and revealed a tired-looking Remus Lupin, rubbing his eyes and looking bewildered.
"Tonks?" he muttered, drawing his dressing-gown more tightly about his shoulders, "What are you doing?"
"Rotcher, Wemus!" Tonks exclaimed, "No, wait, that's not right – WOTCHER, REMUS!" She swayed alarmingly, looking incredibly pleased with herself.
Remus stepped out on to the pavement and leant forwards, nose wrinkling up as the smell of alcohol assaulted his senses, "Tonks, are you drunk?"
"Nah, I'm just suitably refreshed!" Tonks nodded her head in an attempt to convince the man standing in front of her.
Remus sighed, shaking his head as though faced with a recalcitrant student. "We'd better get you to bed."
"Now that's an offer I don't get every day," Tonks said with a lascivious wink, the effect rather spoiled by the fact that she chose that moment to pitch forward and land with a solid thunk against Remus' chest. Looking up into his face, she smiled dreamily and closed her eyes. "Mmm, nice."
"Tonks?" Remus sounded faintly amused, "You're going to have to try and stand up."
Tonks cracked open one eye and studied his face. "You have a nice mouth," she announced, "I've always thought so."
"Have you?" Remus still sounded as though he found the situation funny, which just wouldn't do.
"Yes, I have," Tonks said firmly, reaching up unsteadily and placing her lips lightly against his. Remus stiffened as though turned to stone, hands gently pushing her shoulders to rock her back on her heels.
"You don't want to go down this path, Tonks," he warned, "no matter how drunk you are."
"You know what I've always wondered?" Tonks asked, as though she hadn't heard him speak, "Whether or not Werewolves are physically identical to humans when in their human form." She slid an unsteady hand down Remus' chest, noting happily that he sucked in a breath as she did so.
"Tonks," he warned again, "this is one of those times when I'm all too human."
Tonks merely murmured something incomprehensible in reply, pushing against his restraining hands and smiling to herself when they gave way without much protest, landing her back against his chest. She pressed her lips softly against the side of his neck, feeling his muscles tense beneath her lips.
"Tonks," he groaned, and she felt the vibration against her tongue. She slipped her hand inside his dressing gown, noting with pleasure that he clearly slept in just his underwear. Sliding her hand down lower, she fluttered her fingers against his abdomen and slid a nail across the waistband of his boxers. In answer, he pulled her body more firmly against his and captured her mouth with his own, breath mingling with hers as he gently parted her lips and flicked his tongue against hers. He stepped backwards into the house, turning them both around so that he could lean against the door and close it firmly.
"We really, really shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, while trailing butterfly kisses along her jaw, "you're too drunk to know what you're up to…"
"I don't need to be drunk to want you," Tonks said earnestly, hand still poised at the waistband of his underwear, "just breathing…."