Disclaimer: You know the drill... Jo's, Warner Bros., Remus, Dora, wish, not, mine, blah, blah, blah...

Author's Notes: Mmm... I got nothin'. Well... actually, I do. This started out as a piece for a writing contest, but it wasn't working out so well so it developed into it's own one-shot! Happy happy fun time.

Soo.. review and stuff.

Aliss

Blokes These Days.

There was always one thing wrong with every bloke I've ever fancied.

Sure, they were all tall, dark, and mysterious (most of them taller than they were mysterious, but things evened out), and yet…

Each and every one of them was all too "let's be friends" to see that I might have had even the slightest inkling of a romantic feeling for them.

Absurd, I know! Me, having romantic feelings? The thought alone is enough to bring tears of mirth to one's eyes!

But… I did. And you know, pushing the idea past the thick skulls of those overly-friendly chaps was near impossible. Very near impossible… but not quite.

You know, some of them had very funny reactions.

Like Cory, for example, who flashed me a gleaming white smile and said in a smooth, calm voice of obviously blissful ignorance, "I love you too, Nymphadora."

And then there was Nigel, who blinked at me a few times, his brow furrowed in confusion, before turning and walking right into a door.

Then there were those who… took their confusion out through awkward "let's still be friends" phases, like Charlie, Rupert, and countless others. Sitting in front of the common room fire avoiding each other's eyes wasn't what I would call a good time.

I mean, I know I'm no angel, but I thought that's what guys wanted— a bad girl. But I suppose Nymphadora Tonks was too much for them to handle.

And then I left Hogwarts. I'd had a handful of pitiful little boyfriends while I was there, but nothing extraordinary. Wimpy little boys would ask me out, I'd sigh and think about my boyfriend-less life of fifteen or so years, and say yes, if reluctantly. Not that a good snog wouldn't take away some of the visuals of weakness, but I would always picture him in my mind as a handsome bloke with short ashy blonde hair and chestnut eyes, like the color of hot cocoa. I didn't know why I pictured them all as the same fellow until, that is, I joined the Order of the Phoenix.

That's where I met Mr. Remus John Lupin, the man I always imagined in my snog-induced state. Not too tall (a few inches under six foot, I'd reckon), ashy blonde hair that fell long around his neck and short around his ears, deep chestnut eyes the color of hot cocoa. Quite a handsome man, if I do say so myself, despite the fact that he looked seven or eight years older than I with that gray streaked in his hair. But did I mind?

Merlin only knows what I needed in my life was a man, and it seems as if Merlin himself knew that this was the guy and finally introduced him to me.

When Dumbledore introduced me at my first meeting, I had my spiky hair midnight blue, only making my pale skin seem even paler. But as Kingsley Shacklebolt reminded me, it did bring out my eyes, so I didn't mind as much as I normally would've.

Kingsley then threaded his arm through mine and started dragging me off to be introduced. After meeting and greeting more people than I'd ever like to remember, he practically threatened to hex me if I didn't meet Hestia Jones, who was chatting amicably with a certain someone. Upon spotting this someone, I chippered up and followed Kingsley off in a flash.

Upon being introduced to Hestia Jones, who wrung my hand for what seemed like ages (and smiling impishly at him the whole time), he grinned and snapped his fingers.

"Nymphadora Tonks, I thought I recognized you." He smiled at me as if he expected a similar reaction from me.

I grinned at him uncertainly, unsure of what to respond with.

"I thought you'd decided that blue made you're skin look pale. What had you decided on… ginger, was it?"

I had no idea what this bloke was going on about, but — being me — I opened my mouth anyway.

"Good Merlin, no, I haven't worn my hair ginger for years." I smiled at the memory of trailing Charlie Weasley with a head of ginger hair, mocking him every chance I got.

"Really? I always thought it looked rather nice. But let's see it then." He folded his arms and grinned.

I frowned and said slowly, "How did you…?"

I turned to Kingsley. "I thought you didn't tell anyone?" I muttered, my eyes narrowed.

"I didn't," he said in his deep voice, his gold hoop jingling as he shook his head.

Remus's eyes grew wide before he chuckled to himself.

"And just what's so funny?" I asked, now slightly perturbed with the man.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he asked, eyes sparkling.

"Am I supposed to?" I questioned, one eyebrow now raised.

"The thought of little Dora not remembering me," he said, a chuckle escaping his lips.

I breathed.

"Little Dora…" I murmured, eyes twinkling. "Only one person's ever called me that— Moony."

He laughed a deep, raspy, belly laugh.

I cracked a grin. "You're Moony?"

He only nodded, lined face split into the widest of grins.

"Good Godric," I'd said, and turned my hair ginger.

I remember Remus — or Moony, as his friends knew him — from way back when I was just a scrawny little thing. My dear cousin Sirius would drag him to visit my mum with Prongs and Wormtail as well. I was little then (only six or seven), but I remember seeing that handsome young face and falling in love (or as much in love as you can fall when you're six).

I remember clinging to him and telling him how much I would miss him with Sirius (the wonderful cousin he is) snorting in the background.

Even at the age of six, I knew that bloke was the one for me.

I spent the rest of the meeting chatting with Remus, those warm, fuzzy, childish feelings erupting within me. Except… they weren't so childish anymore.

I'd lived long enough to know one thing: It didn't take much to break through the barrier of this heart.

Especially for Remus John Lupin.

I'd known the bloke for all my life, but it seemed as if I was really knowing him for the first time… and he was really knowing me. It was an amazing feeling, seeing how he'd grown over the years of being my man-in-waiting.

But amazing things can never last long.

The meeting finally ended and we shuffled toward the exit. He pulled on his cloak and I pulled on mine. Turning to him, I did something that was farthest from what I had planned on doing. It was on my mind, indeed, but I didn't plan on actually doing it.

I kissed him.

Now it wasn't one of those "let's snog" kisses, full on the lips, but a harmless little kiss on the cheek.

No harm done. Until I opened my mouth, that is. And we all know how much trouble that's gotten me into.

"I love you."

He grinned down at me uncertainly with that lopsided grin of his and said, "I love you too, little Dora."

I flinched. He thought "platonic, harmless, really-means-nothing I love you".

I didn't. Yeah, sudden, I know, but it's something you just… know.

"I'm not such a little Dora anymore, you know," I said.

He surveyed me. "I suppose you're not. And what is a stately young witch such as yourself called these days?"

"Tonks."

"No Nymphadora?"

I shuddered. "No. Tonks'll do."

He nodded, stepping out the door. "Whatever you say, Nymphadora."

My mouth curved into a grin, fight it as I might.

Aaand… you may be wondering why I bothered to tell you all of this. Well… Remus and I have been through a lot together, not relationship-wise, but for the Order. And now, I know I love him. Godric, it feels weird to say it, but at the same time it feels so right. I, Nymphadora Tonks, love Remus John Lupin!

It may seem crazy, but I do.

And I told him.

It didn't settle over so well.

I suppose he could be put in a category all of his own: you only think that, Nymphadora, you don't actually have romantic feelings for me.

What a dunderhead.

But just like it was every other bloody time, it hurt. And it still hurts. And it'll probably always hurt.

But I suppose that's just the problem of blokes these days.

FIN.