This story follows The Age-Old Question in the Transfigured Hearts series, and is set after chapter thirty-six of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Time To Weep, Time To Laugh

The instant Remus Lupin Apparated Nymphadora Tonks into the lounge of her flat, she pushed him onto the settee. He barely had time to drop her dragon hide bag before she curled up in his lap, wrapped her arms around him, and buried her face in his neck.

He'd held her this way before, but the timing and slight urgency of her affection were alarming. Upon Tonks' discharge from St. Mungo's, the Healers advised her not to try Apparation by herself, so Remus had Side-Along Apparated her to her flat. Had it affected her still fragile health adversely? Or was she upset? When Remus arrived on the Spell Damage ward to see her home, he'd caught her in a heated dispute with her mother.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Tonks murmured, hair and lips and warm breath tickling his skin. "Just need a moment."

Remus rubbed soothing circles over her back, fingertips drifting upward to massage her neck. "You've had a trying few days."

Her head jerked up, and Remus smiled slightly at the sight of her hair, a more violent shade of pink than usual, and more wildly spiked. It looked as though she'd been tugging madly at the ends, and judging from the scene he'd witnessed at St. Mungo's – Tonks carelessly stuffing pyjamas, t-shirts, jeans, socks into her bag whilst Andromeda cast folding spells on the clothes – it was a safe assumption.

"If Mum asked me one more time if I needed her to look after me while I'm on sick leave," Tonks said, "I'd have gone batshit insane like the rest of the Blacks."

Much as Remus wanted to laugh, in light of the most recent events, he could not bring himself to offer so much as a weak smile. Seeing his reaction, and realising the implications of her flippant words, Tonks went rigid as the colour drained from her face.

"I'm sorry, Remus!" Her eyes welled. "I didn't mean—"

"Don't," he said hoarsely. He pressed his fingertips against her lips, and his arm tightened around her waist. "Sirius…would want us to keep saying things like that."

Tonks tried to smile, but it twisted into a grimace as a sob escaped. Though she screwed her eyes shut, tears leaked out. Burrowing her face in her neck, her tears wet the collar of his freshly laundered and pressed white shirt.

"I don't know what to say," she whimpered. "I've never been to a memorial for…a mate. I don't know what to say."

Remus felt as helpless as she sounded. He didn't know what to say, either. Not to the Order when they gathered later at the Burrow to honour Sirius, not to comfort Tonks.

Abruptly, she slid off his lap, swiping at her tears and starting toward her bedroom. "I've got to dress." She wore her preferred outfit of tatty jeans and a t-shirt, which had been part of the tense mother-daughter debate. "I may not know what to say tonight, but I can dress appropriately, yeah?"

At the slight edge of self-recrimination in her voice, Remus cursed himself for not having made any real effort to help her. She'd mentioned during one of their few private moments during hospital visiting hours that she wanted to have a good cry over Sirius, but the constant presence of her parents, the Healers, other patients, and various people to whom she could not explain the source of her sorrow prevented her from doing so. She needed this quiet time to grieve before she was surrounded by colleagues at the Burrow.

As Tonks summoned her bag and blundered around him, Remus' hand shot out to catch hers. "Wait."

"We haven't a lot of time," she said, trying to wriggle from his grasp.

He didn't release her, but pulled her beside him on the sofa. "We've time."

For a moment Tonks regarded him quizzically, then her dark eyebrows sloped sharply downward in an apologetic expression. She leant forward to smooth his clothing. "I'm sorry. Stupid crying…I've rumpled your suit."

"Wrinkles are the least of this old suit's problems," he said, gently taking her hand again and drawing it away from his clothes. "You can have another moment, or two, or whatever you need."

Eyes pooling again, Tonks pressed his palm against her tearstained cheek.

"Would you…?" Remus paused, uncertain how to voice a sudden thought, then decided bluntness never bothered Tonks. "Would you like to be alone?"

She shook her head and snuggled against his side, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. "No," she said. "I just want you."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, Remus stroking her hair and wondering if this was really helping her. She didn't seem to be crying, but as she'd said she wanted to cry, he wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"You've had a trying few days, too," Tonks said after a while, voice low and a bit raspy. "You've been wonderful." Her body shuddered against him as she let out a ragged sigh. "God, Remus, you must hate my parents."

Though Remus had expected Tonks, at some point, to voice displeasure in her parents' distant attitude toward him, her sudden shift in topics was jarring. More startling was her strong word choice.

"Quite the contrary," he said. "I like them very much."

Tonks looked up, eyes at first rounded in astonishment, but narrowing with scepticism as she quirked an eyebrow. "How?"

"The were very polite and kind."

"They were cold." Gaze dropping from his, she bit her lower lip, then mumbled, "They acted suspicious."

Remus could not deny Tonks' parents were likely far more wary of him than they would be of other suitors, but he also had not interpreted their behaviour as prejudiced. "Most people are restrained when they first meet."

"We never were," said Tonks, half-sulkily, half-fondly.

Warmth rushed through Remus as images of meeting Tonks flashed to the front of his memory, recalling feeling comfortable with her from the start of their acquaintance. Gently he touched her chin and lifted it so that her warm brown eyes met his. "You and I were meant to fall in love."

It was not the sort of thing he normally said, but he knew it was right when her pale, drawn features took on a happy glow that suited her far better than any lovely face she could morph. Unable to resist the urge, he leant forward and brushed his lips across hers. His insides leapt as she responded eagerly and locked her fingers around his neck, drawing herself to straddle his lap again. He let one hand slide from around her back to graze her thigh pressed against his.

They had not kissed like this in days – weeks, actually – and Remus was so lost in reacquainting himself with the sensations of Tonks that he was slightly dazed when she pulled back. She looked intently into his eyes, lips pursed in a scrutinising expression not unlike the one he'd seen Andromeda wear.

"What?" he asked, still too hazy to be concerned. "Have I got new grey hairs?"

Tonks' eyes flitted up, and Remus' breath hitched – even after all this time together as a couple – as she raised fingers to brush his fringe back from his forehead.

"A few," she said casually. "Makes you look distinguished, y'know. I like having a distinguished boyfriend. Makes me look respectable."

"As if your Auror uniform doesn't give you enough respectability," said Remus dryly, though inwardly he was very pleased.

"My weird hair and jewellery rather lessen the effect." Tonks' expression became serious again, and she squirmed a little on his lap.

"Really," Remus said softly, "what are you thinking?"

"It's just…" Her eyes darted downward as she toyed with his necktie, then flicked back up to him as words tumbled out. "Ten months ago you'd have used my parents as an excuse not to be with me. Remember our first date, when we ran into Madam Pomfrey?"

To Remus' surprise, he flushed a little at the memory of their first date. They'd run into Poppy at a park, and he'd been convinced she disapproved of them being together that way. He'd thought it mortified Tonks, that she'd seen the light about him, and that it would be the only date he'd ever have with her.

"Nymphadora," he said, "do you think I'm such a poor student in the school of relationships that I've not learnt a thing in ten months with you?"

Admittedly, most of that learning seemed to have occurred in the short span of Tonks' convalescence, following her declaration of love. Remus had been so focused on what impact his saying so would have on her that he had not stopped to think about how much he wanted to know – to hear – that the feeling was reciprocated. It was the single most life-altering phrase a person had uttered since James and Sirius figured out he was a werewolf and said they still wanted to be mates. Just as he'd needed to prove he was worthy of their loyal friendship, Remus felt a responsibility to see to it that Tonks' gift of love, though offered so freely, did not cost her. He would repay her by meeting his doubts head-on, rather than expecting her to help him muddle through, as she had done for as long as they'd been together. Especially now, as she seemed to be leaning on him.

"I'm sorry," said Tonks with a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean to make you feel you haven't been a fantastic boyfriend."

"You didn't." Remus replied. He raked a hand through his hair. "I suppose this is different for me. Will I sound more like myself if I say I'm not exactly thrilled your parents don't approve of me?"

Again she broke eye contact.

"They've said as much, haven't they?" Remus asked.

His heart skipped a beat as she kept her eyes averted and slipped from his lap. "I've really got to change," she said, stooping to pick up her bag en route to her bedroom.

"Tonks—" Remus didn't know what to say. It wasn't like her to let a subject like this drop without discussion.

Part way through the door, she stopped and smiled over her shoulder. "C'mon." She jerked her head toward the darkened room. "We'll finish this in there."

She didn't mean to be provocative, which was probably why her little gestures seemed so very. Remus was on his feet instantly at met her in a few long strides. "Whilst you dress?"

She lit the lamps with her wand as she went inside and said, "It'll be hard to have a conversation if we're not in the same room."

"It'll be harder to have a conversation if I can see your breasts," said Remus, leaning against the jamb. His eyes scanned the room, lingering longer than they ought to have on her unmade bed.

Letting her bag plop to the floor, Tonks faced him again, mouth twisting as she held back a laugh. She was trying to be coy now, but though she was less successful at it than when she had not tried a moment before, Remus thought her no less charming.

"It isn't as if you haven't seen them before, Remus."

"And we've never talked much at those times, have we?"

Tonks' lips curved with a smile Remus only saw at intimate moments, but she said glibly, "I could morph a flat chest if it'll be less of a distraction."

"No!" Remus protested, rather more vehemently than he meant. Tonks' smile widened, as though she'd taken the outburst as a compliment.

"I can control…" He swallowed hard, eyes looking everywhere but at her. "…unruly thoughts."

"Yes," she said softly, turning her back to him once more. "I know you can."

Though her voice held amusement, Remus' thoughts turned to Tonks' words before the battle at the Department of Mysteries: I'd have pushed if I thought we should be doing it. He knew now was not the moment – at least, he didn't think it was – but was she hinting at wanting more in days to come?

"It's not as if they're not practically flat as they are," Tonks' wistful tone, followed by a sigh, broke into Remus' musing. It struck him as ironic that she should be discontent with her figure, as she could have any size and shape breasts she wanted. She peeled off her t-shirt, revealing a lime green bra. In profile he could see her gaze drop self-consciously. "I'm still quite black and blue."

Wrenched by the smallness in her voice, Remus moved further into the room, and noted the bruises on Tonks' torso were still quite dark even after days of Healing charms and potions. Broken blood vessels mottled her fair skin, and a few of her ribs – the ones she had broken, he assumed – were outlined with greenish-purple streaks.

With the most feather-light of touches, Remus settled his hands on her hips, careful to avoid her bruises, and gently turned her to face him. Her chest heaved as she drew in a deep breath, and she looked up at him with large, trusting, needing eyes.

What did she need?

Remus let his fingers drift upward, just grazing the sides of her breasts, tracing the curve of her collarbone.

"You're incredibly sexy," he said hoarsely, "wearing jeans and…"

He lost his capacity to speak as Tonks smiled and twined her arms around his neck. As he dipped his head to kiss her, his fingers opened and his palms slid over her curves. She sighed into his mouth when his tongue found hers, and he heard his own low sound as she swayed against him. Wrapping one arm around lower back to keep her upright, pressing her body closer to his, he wondered fleetingly whether it was her health or his kiss that her weak in the knees. He hoped it was the latter, but sensing it was a little much for her, he brushed his lips to hers one more time, then drew back.

As she steadied her erratic breathing, Remus murmured, "I imagine this—" He indicated the hand not on her back "—is why your mum was so adamant to stay with you."

"I imagine so," Tonks agreed. Her palms splayed on his back as she hugged him tightly, cheek pressed against his chest. "But Merlin knows this is what we need."

Remus had regained his wits enough to note that she had again turned the subject from her parents, and with a start he realised she was afraid. Afraid of his reaction to her parents' disapproval. Afraid he would…

The image of Tonks regaining consciousness the morning after the battle rose up in his mind's eye. She'd been confused, frightened; she'd dreamed he left. Dear God – she was afraid – even after he told her he loved her – that he would leave her.

Pulling her as close against him as he could, cradling her face as he tilted it up to his, he kissed her with urgency, hoping he could reassure her through physical affection that he would not leave, that he would stay and try to be what she needed.

But was that what she needed? Was it right not to care what her parents thought? It was difficult to care about anything but her body against his, the warm bare skin of her back, and occasionally the satin of her bra, under his palms – which he had not noticed till now had moved down from her face.

The backs of his legs made contact with the bed, and Remus found himself sitting on the edge as Tonks pressed gently down on his shoulders. They were still kissing as she leant over him, raking her fingers through his hair, but as his eyelids slowly parted, she moved back from him, standing straight. She flashed a smile, but rather than the dreamy glow that shone in her eyes after such moments, hers were hard with determination.

Remus drew deep breaths in the attempt to bring his mind back into control and shake off disappointment that now wasn't the time tread new ground in their physical relationship.

Tonks turned and opened a bureau drawer, and Remus studied her profile as she rummaged through it. The angle and light cast her taut cheek muscle into relief. Now and then it flexed as she gritted her teeth.

"I'm right pissed at Mum," she said at last, drawing out a set of black undergarments. Shoving the drawer shut with her hip, she continued, "I know appearances matter to her, but I thought she'd be better to you, seeing as she's been exactly where you are."

Remus' mind seemed to follow sluggishly, but he couldn't decide if it was because Tonks wasn't making sense, or because she was standing there in jeans and a bra, with dishevelled hair he'd helped look like that. "Where I am?"

"Judged because of a group, not for yourself."

She turned around, hands twisting back to unhook her bra. As the green straps slid off her shoulders, Remus did his best to focus on what she was saying rather than on the fact that she was now completely naked on top.

"Dad's family didn't warm to Mum for a long time, because the Blacks wouldn't have anything to do with him."

That captured Remus' attention. "Even though they were Muggles?" He'd assumed Ted's family embraced Andromeda with open arms when her own rejected her because of her choice of husband.

Tonks turned her head slightly and nodded as she donned the lacy black bra. "It got worse during the war, when several of Dad's folks…."

She'd told him before about her Muggle relatives being among the Death Eaters' murder victims, but he had not considered it in precisely in this light. Before he could ponder it further, he was distracted by the view afforded when Tonks bent to pick up her discarded t-shirt with the end of her wand. A split-second later, the garment draped over his head, effectively blindfolding him.

"Tonks, what—?"

"Don't take it off!" she cried as he raised a hand to do just that. "Stay covered for a minute."

"Can't I just promise to keep my eyes closed?"

"S'that a promise you can keep?" Tonks' tone made him picture a particular expression of smug mischief she sometimes got.

Dutifully, though he felt ridiculous, Remus left the shirt where Tonks had flicked it, even though the sounds of jeans being unzipped and tossed aside were almost too enticing for him to remain a gentleman. At the screech of wire clothes hangers against the bar in the wardrobe, he asked, "Are you decent yet?"

"I don't know what to wear," said Tonks, voice cracking with the despairing note it had held when she said she didn't know what to say at the memorial. As she continued, Remus could tell she was trying hard to keep sadness at bay. "Mum wouldn't think any of my clothes—oh! This'll do. Remus! No peeking!"

She had caught him lifting the hem of the t-shirt. He sighed dramatically. "I thought you might like a second opinion."

"Contrary to what Mum says," Tonks snorted, the rustling of fabric and her slightly muffled voice indicating she was putting something on, "I can chose an appropriate outfit on my own—erm…Remus?"

"Problem?"

"I'm—" She cut herself off with sounds of struggle, and of frustration. "Well, see for yourself."

"I've permission to look?"

"What else would 'see for yourself' mean?"

"No need to get defens—" Remus could not hold back laughter at the sight of Tonks' adorable bum, now clad in knickers that matched her bra and normally would not have been amusing, wiggling beneath the hem of a dark green dress which was twisted up around her torso with her arms stuck out at awkward angles. Her head was nowhere in sight. "Lost in there, love?"

"You try putting on a dress, git."

"Isn't it a bit like putting on a shirt?"

"No," Tonks snapped. "It's not. Shirts button, or they're stretchy."

Remus lifted the dress to free her arms, and as Tonks' head poked out the proper opening, she pulled a face. "Are you on Mum's side, then?" She shoved her arms through the sleeves.

"What's your mum to do with this?"

"D'you think I need looking-after?"

Tonks was being serious, and Remus realised she was slightly embarrassed. He almost wished he hadn't teased her. "I don't think that."

"What do you think?"

He considered for a moment before answering, "I think this is all part of a plan to keep me from getting broody about your parents."

To Remus' surprise, Tonks bit her lip in an expression of having been found out. But her dark eyes glowed as she asked coyly, "Is it working?"

Remus answered by pinching her bum en route to resume his seat on her bed. Even though she was gaping at him with an adorable mixture of surprise and pleasure, he managed to keep a straight face. "Do I look like I'm brooding?"

"You look like you're Marauding."

Chuckling outright, Remus protested, "You can hardly blame me when you're the one who insisted I watch you take off your clothes."

"Will you behave now I'm wearing a proper dress?"

Remus was not sure a dress that clung to all the right places and revealed a good deal of Tonks' shapely legs constituted a proper dress. "My thoughts may be just as unruly as before. Especially since I know which underwear you've got on."

She blushed prettily at the compliment, but then her features drooped with worry. "Is this too…sexy…for the occasion? I know it's not a…funeral…but…"

In the midst of their heady affection and light-hearted banter, Remus had almost forgotten their night's destination. Suddenly he felt as if a weight had been dropped on his shoulders and pressed him down into the old, too-soft mattress. But Tonks' slumping posture, and her eyes that seemed very large in her pale face, pulled his thoughts from his own grief.

"Stay just as you are," said Remus, summoning comfort and cheer he did not feel into his voice. "Sirius would hate it if we were all dressed in black and looking morbid like Severus."

Sniffling and nodding, Tonks turned to her vanity and summoned her small cosmetic bag from the larger one just inside the door. "D'you reckon he'll come?"

Lord, Remus hoped not. The very last thing he wanted at his best mate's memorial was Severus Snape skulking about with his insufferable sneer.

"I only got paranoid about the dress," said Tonks, looking in a small hand mirror as she dusted her face with powder, "because Mum always makes such an issue of things like clothes. Appearances matter to her," she said again. "A lot. After the war, when it came out what the Blacks had done, she didn't want to be the least bit suspicious. I think that's why she's a perfect housewitch. It looks…trustworthy."

The appearance of trustworthiness what Remus had sought for – in vain – all his life. Andromeda was lucky to have achieved it.

For some reason, his thoughts turned to Sirius urging him to marry Tonks. A normal step normal people took, which made them look down to earth and reliable. Had Sirius considered the intricacies of a werewolf's marriage? Did he really believe that normalcy was attainable for him? Remus' throat swelled, and he blinked rapidly several times. What he'd give to have Sirius back. Why had they never talked about this? It should have come up in the course of ten months.

"I didn't get why Mum cared so much," Tonks said, clapping her compact shut and setting it on top of the bureau. "I just thought she was a killjoy who wouldn't let me do fun morphs."

Glancing up at her, Remus noticed the mirror over her bureau reflected him. His eyes were red-rimmed and glossy. He shifted on the bed but could not quite escape the mirror. He hoped Tonks was intent enough on applying her makeup that she wouldn't notice.

Brushing rouge across her cheeks, Tonks continued, "Then when I was interviewing for the Auror program, and Umbridge was breathing down my neck about being a half-Black who could look like anyone I wanted, I realised it must've been hard for my mum to feel trusted when she'd a kid like me. It was probably one of the reasons why she supported me going for Auror."

"Because it was as if the Ministry were endorsing a Black?"

"Yeah." Her eyes flicked briefly to his reflection behind hers, but then she leant closer to the mirror to apply eye makeup. "It's respectable."

And prestigious, Remus mentally added, thinking how Sirius always had that aristocratic streak, no matter how much he distanced himself from his family. "That makes a great deal of sense."

Tonks did not speak again for some time. Remus supposed, from the way she pinched her lips tightly together, that full concentration was required for pencilling one's eyelids. He sensed, though, that she was waiting for him to talk, needed him to comment. Once again he didn't know what to say. He understood the parallel she was drawing, and he would bet she anticipated one response – that it was not the same, coming from a family of Death Eaters and being a Dark Creature. He rose and strode to the bureau, leaning against the end.

"I appreciate the comparison, Tonks, but I get the feeling you didn't point it out to your mum."

Tonks clutched the edge of the bureau, but Remus reached for her hands and held them against his chest. They were moist with sweat. She looked up at him, and he saw hope mingled with fear in her eyes.

"I think my parents like you and the way you treat me," she said, "but…"

"But I'm more than a decade older than you, haven't got a job, and am a Dark Creature."

Tonks stiffened, and Remus expected an outburst in regard to the last, but she only said softly, "Don't say 'decade', Remus – it sounds like more than it is."

Remus noted that she hadn't denied his age, poverty, and condition were part of her parents' reticence, but he chose to sidestep it. What was there to say? He certainly could think of nothing. If Tonks wanted to pursue it, she could.

Clearing his throat, he said, "A decade seems like more years than fourteen?"

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Actually, yes. There's a lot more to you than those things. All my parents really know about you is what the Prophet's printed – and we all know that's hardly unbiased."

"What have you told them?" Remus asked as she dusted shimmery green shadow across her eyelids.

"About you?"

"About us."

"What's to tell?" She uncapped the mascara and curled the brush over her long lashes. "We're a couple."

"Did they ask how long we've dated?"

"Yeah."

"And you told them?"

Tonks carelessly tossed the mascara bottle aside, and it rolled off the bureau onto the floor. Apparently not caring, Tonks dabbed smears from around her eyes, and Remus bent to retrieve the mascara. As he straightened and replaced it in her bag of cosmetics, Tonks regarded him with arched brows. "Why wouldn't I tell them?"

Remus could not decide whether he was touched that Tonks did not want to hide him from her parents, or nervous that she was so open about their relationship.

"No reason, except they know we're doing more than dating casually. Sirius was…" Remus winced at the past tense. Though he'd thought of Sirius that way before, during his twelve years in Azkaban, the shift back was painful. Tonks looked positively stricken by it. Remus slipped his arms around her and drew her close. "Sirius was right. Anyone who knows we've been together since last August would assume we're…quite serious."

Tonks' arms encircled his waist as she rested her head against his chest. "I've loved you for a lot longer than ten months, you know."

He tucked her head under his chin, and as he ran his hands up her back and neck to her soft, short hair, he said huskily, "So've I." He should have told her sooner. Everyone had seen how he felt, and thought he should. Sirius…

Tonks small frame shuddered against him. At first he thought she was crying, but then she turned a laughing face up to him. "Loved yourself?"

Impulsively, he leant down to kiss her parted lips. It was so strange to intermittently mourn his mate and talk lightly about his own love life, but Merlin, how glad Remus was to have this, to have her.

When the kiss ended, Tonks was the first to regain her powers of speech. "I avoided the subject of how serious we are," she said, eyes gleaming as she poked playfully him in the chest. "Y'know. Like we have."

Remus remembered his own words to Sirius: Why should I discuss something with you I haven't even discussed with Tonks? It should not be put off any longer. Was now the best time? He glanced at Tonks' bedside table, and the alarm clock revealed they indeed had time before they were expected at the Burrow.

Twining their fingers tightly together, Remus led Tonks to sit on the bed. She regarded him curiously as he mulled over how to begin, second-guessing whether he was ready to have this conversation, whether they really could go as far as so many people seemed to think. It was a big thing to leap into, a permanent life with Tonks. Even taking their physical relationship further – well, they were far past the point of just sex. It would be commitment. It had to be.

But was it what she wanted? Tonks had seemed to need him, yet she had been quite withdrawn in discussing her parents. It was unusual for her, and contributed to his uncertainty about how to proceed.

He cleared his throat, but, unused to initiating these pivotal conversations, his voice came out shakily. "How do you feel about them in relation to…us?"

Tonks did not reply, and Remus felt her pulse flutter wildly in her wrist. Was she weighing their opinion against her choice? Was she uncertain what to say, afraid of hurting his feelings? Turning slightly, he raised his free hand to brush back her hair, to trace her delicate cheekbone. "Tell me what you're thinking, love."

"Believe it or not," she said a bit unsteadily, yet meeting his gaze levelly, "it does matter to me what my parents think."

The answer was oddly comforting. At times he had feared Tonks, in her youthful enthusiasm, had not examined their relationship from every angle. He was glad to have those doubts eased somewhat.

"I love them," Tonks continued, "even though they drive me a bit mad in large doses. I want them to approve. Mum's always been sad about losing her side of the family."

"I don't want you to lose yours," Remus said, now feeling a bit conflicted. "You deserve to have a relationship your parents approve of."

Yet – what if the Tonkses were wrong? All the people whose opinions Remus most valued – including Dumbledore – approved of, even promoted, their relationship.

"We shouldn't slow down just because of them."

As Remus released a breath he had not realised he was holding, his nervousness seemed carried away in the exhale. "Sirius would say we can't go any slower than we are."

"Oh," said Tonks in a low tone, running her fingers up his arm and settling them just inside his collar, "I'd say things have sped up in the past few days, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," said Remus, smiling, "I'd say that, too. And I'm glad they have."

Tonks beamed and tilted her face up for a kiss. Remus could not resist pecking her lips, but her forehead crinkled in disappointment that his mouth did not linger on hers.

"Are you sure?" he asked. The question encompassed many things, but he specified, "Are you sure you want to…go ahead…knowing they don't approve?"

She stepped back and gave him a brief look of indignation, which made Remus feel he'd somehow insulted her.

"I think they'll come around in time," said Tonks. "But how can I realistically expect them to trust this when they don't know all there is to know about you? Or me for that matter. They haven't the foggiest idea I'm in the Order and risking my job." Before Remus could comment, Tonks continued, "I think it helped them a bit to know Mad-Eye trusts you – but they want to know why he does."

"Of course they do," said Remus softly.

"They'd be that way about everyone." Tonks ticked off their colleagues on her fingers. "Dumbeldore, McGonagall, the Weasleys…"

"Your parents can't even know we associate regularly with all those people."

"Exactly." Softening, Tonks reached up to brush Remus' fringe from his eyes. "We live in two worlds, Remus. Both of them make us who we are."

He leant into her as her velvet eyes drew him in, but she only allowed him the lightest touch on her lips before she hopped to her feet.

"I say," Tonks said, squaring her shoulders and giving her head a defiant, "sod the parents." She undermined the rebelliousness of the statement by quickly tacking on, "For now."

It wasn't quite the detailed, specific conversation Remus had expected them to have about their future, but he supposed it would do for the time being. He stood and said, "That sounds reasonable."

Tonks blinked, then stared owl-eyed and open-mouthed. "Really? I mean, I think it's reasonable, but you—?"

"I what?" he spoke over her, arching a brow. "I'm too much of an old fuddy-duddy to think you reasonable?"

Tonks expression rapidly flashed from sheepish to cheeky. "Say it."

For a moment he wasn't sure what she meant. "Sod the parents?"

"With gusto."

Feeling every bit like an old fuddy-duddy roped into nonsense, he said in a way that could hardly be described as possessing gusto, "Sod the parents."

Apparently it was enthusiastic enough for Tonks. Laughing, she caught him in a fierce hug.

When she spoke, however, her voice was a raw murmur, and she clung to him almost desperately. "God, Remus, I don't know what I'd do without you in both worlds."

"You'd manage," Remus said, surprised by her abrupt change.

She wagged her head against his chest. "No, I wouldn't. I need you."

Strange as the notion was that a beautiful young Auror with the world at her feet could need him, Remus believed her. Holding her tighter, he said, "We've a convenient arrangement, then."

"I reckon what you need at the moment," said Tonks, "is for me to finish getting ready."

Melancholy settled over the room as Tonks slipped from the circle of his arms to stand before the mirror. Remus stood just behind her, checking his tie and straightening his suit and mussed hair. Much as he wanted Sirius to be mourned and honoured properly, Remus would have given anything to be going out with Tonks, celebrating her recovery and release from St. Mungo's, instead of attending a memorial for another lost mate.

He noticed Tonks staring hard in the mirror, face scrunched in the expression that usually preceded a morph – but she had not changed her hair.

Heartbeat quickening, he asked, "You're not having trouble, are you?" She'd been unable to hold morphs during the first few days of her recovery, and enen now prolonged ones drained her energy. Had their discourse been too much for her still fragile health?

"Just making up my mind," said Tonks. With a furtive glance, she asked, "Would it bother you if I…?" She finished her question by extending her pink spikes past her shoulder blades, then turning the tresses inky black. It was all Remus could do not to gasp at how very like a Black she looked.

"I just thought," said Tonks, studying her reflection, "I'm family. I'm the only family Sirius will have there…" Her voice hitched, and as her dark eyes – still her own, thank God – darted up to meet Remus', a sob escaped. It's wrong," Tonks said as tears streaked down her face. "He wouldn't want me to look like…He hated them…"

She wrinkled her brow in the attempt to change it, but she was so overwrought that she could not focus her energies quickly enough. Remus rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

"Sirius missed family. Like your mum." He let long, silky strands of her hair slide between his fingers, and though he missed the pink already, he was touched that someone who mattered so much would honour his mate this way. It made him feel less alone in his grief, a sensation as new to him as being loved. "Keep it. He'd be touched."

She made a half-hearted attempt at a smile and said in a small voice, "I still don't know what I'm going to say. Do you?"

Remus shook his head. "I suppose I'll say whatever comes to mind. Sirius would appreciate spontaneity, wouldn't he?"

More tears leaked out of Tonks' eyes, and she swiped vigorously at them with the back of her hand. Her mascara left black smudges on it and under her eyes.

"Sorry I'm so weepy," she said.

"There's no need to apologize."

"I only knew Sirius this year, and you…. " She touched Remus' face. "You've hardly talked of it."

"I'm hardly a talker," said Remus.

"I know. But…you can. To me."

Remus pressed his hand over hers, cherishing the warmth of her palm on his cheek. "I know."

Part of him very much wanted to talk to her. But she was still crying, had in fact burrowed her face in his suit coat. How could he add the weight of his burden to hers?

"What can I do for you, love?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her. "What do you need?"

"Just another moment."

Remus kissed and caressed her hair. "I'll give you all the moments you need, Nymphadora."

She looked up with him with tear-bright eyes and a grateful smile. "I'll take you up on that when we're not almost late to something important. Sirius will…" She winced and corrected "…would never forgive us for being late to say wonderful things about him."

She retreated into the bathroom to wash her hands and blot her running makeup. Emerging, she pointed her wand at the wardrobe and summoned a pair of shoes and a cloak that matched her dress.

"Y'know," she said, stepping into the shoes while Remus draped the cloak over her shoulders, "it makes me think about Tom Sawyer going to his own funeral to hear how much people missed him."

Remus smiled at a memory he'd not thought of in years. "I read Tom Sawyer one summer and told Sirius it was the sort of thing he'd do."

"Can—can he see us?" Tonks asked as she fastened her cloak pin. "I rather like the thought of him watching and being amused."

"So do I," said Remus, though a weight settled in his stomach at the horrible thought that Sirius could not watch because he was nowhere. Shaking it off, he added lightly, "I don't particularly care to think of him watching what we've done here."

Tonks coloured, but grinned. "He'd think it was all his doing."

As they laughed quietly, Remus knew what he would say – the only thing he could say, really – at the memorial: that he was thinking about everything Sirius had said to him before the battle.

"Ready?" Tonks asked, wrapped her arms tightly around Remus' arm.

Nodding, Remus covered one of her hands with his, slipped the other around her waist, and Apparated them to the Burrow, where people he'd come to regard as family understood their loss and love.

The End