Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own any of the characters. It's JKR's.
Author's Note: Sweets are wonderful things.

WARNING: This fic is completely random. Beware of slight (?) fluff, sugar rush, and a bit of sassiness and swearing. I honestly have no distinct idea why I wrote this, except maybe because I just want to write something for WotcherWolvie, my current OTP. *sniggers* It's supposed to be a two-chapter fic, one from Tonks's and the other from Remus's PoV. Oh, and there is a possibility that I might rewrite this.

Tonks:
Chocolates and Cheekiness

Nine o clock.

I am walking along Grimmauld Place, going home from work. It was a very tiring, very typical day at the Auror Office, that the only thing I want now (except for a kiss from a member of the Weird Sisters maybe, but then again I think I'm too groggy to even do that) is sleep.

I walk up the steps to Number Twelve. Darn. Even this short climb is too much for my lower limbs, and I think my legs would detach from my body anytime now. Apparating would be nice, but the chances of splinching myself are high when I can't think clearly. My eyelids feel so heavy that I can barely make out the button for the doorbell.

There you go, I finally pressed it.

Wait.

I bloody used the doorbell? Oh no.

I think I can hear Sirius's mum now. But then I can't understand much…my ears must have fallen asleep.

Molly Weasley opens the door. "Tonks, dear! Come in, come in," she says. "You look so tired, but why don't you join us for dinner first?"

I look at her blankly. From the corner of my eye, I can see Sirius battling with his mum's portrait.

I can smell the scent of food from the open doors of the kitchen. I would very much like to go and join them, but I think I will just sleep on the table or do something stupid.

"Thank you Molly, but I think I really should go to bed," I mumble.

So, I head straight to the stairs.

Crap. More climbing to do then. Oh well.

I meet Kreacher on the landing, blocking the door to the room where I usually sleep. And he is murmuring again.

Normally, I would feel sort of pitiful for the elf, but right now, I just want to push him away from the door.

Oops. I think I just did that.

I try to say a little sorry for him, but the words come out garbled. Never mind, then.

I enter the room and lie on the couch. And I sleep.

Grrrr. GRRR.

What is that awful sound? I am about to get married to Gorgovitch (yes, the Quidditch star, the cute Keeper) when that horrible thing came out of nowhere.

I open my eyes.

Sigh. It's just a dream. It's really annoying when real life disrupts your little guilty fantasies. It feels like something precious has been stolen from you.

Grrrr.

But the sound is still there.

Oh, it's my stomach. I am hungry. At two in the morning.

I go down to kitchens, hoping that maybe, some remnants of last night's dinner are still there, waiting to be consumed.

But I am disappointed.

Of course, food is an exception to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, so I can't possibly conjure it out of thin air. I wish I could though, with the way my stomach is currently attacking my other organs.

Ugh, If only I had eaten earlier this evening, I would have helped myself to French Onion. And chicken. And potato salad. And...oh, I can't even think of what else. Is there anything edible in this kitchen?

Like those wonderfully wrapped chocolate bars at the counter, whose foil glistens prettily in the garish light…

.

Oh.

So there is something edible in here.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. And this chocolate needs to be consumed immediately. For the sake of my rumbling stomach.

I get the package of chocolates from the counter and break a bar into two.

Snap.

Ohhh, this is going to be so delicious. I pop the bit into my mouth. And the rest is heaven. The creamy goodness, the silky bittersweet taste…It is exhilarating. I bite into the bar again. Oh boy, I can sit here all night.

I take the other half of the chocolate. Mmm, it is as good as the first half, if not better. Sigh, Honeydukes' is really the best…

"…especially when you get yours free," says a hoarse voice.

Who on earth was that?

"I am thinking that it is my chocolate that you're eating," the voice says again. "And taking things that aren't yours without permission is a bit impolite."

I look up and see that Remus Lupin is standing near the door, wearing a perfectly smug smile.

Whoops.

I drop the chocolate on the floor.

"I don't think it is proper to waste food too," he says, picking up the bit that I dropped.

"I…I was just…"

Blimey. This is bloody embarrassing. Here I am, savoring this delightful, chocolate-y moment, with my feet on the table, sitting very…unladylike.
And there is Remus Lupin, annoyingly proper, as always. Ugh. He never fails to get me on my wrong side. I feel so awkward all of a sudden.

"Well, since you're probably very, very hungry, Nymphadora, I suppose that could be an excuse," he says, smiling.

Ack! This bloke happens to be good not only in Defense in the Dark Arts, but in sheer cheekiness as well. And he dare call me Nymphadora! For goodness' sake, think, Tonks, think. You got past horrid stuff, and certainly this ex-professor isn't one of them. (Not during the full moon, anyway)

"Er, I am really sorry for…invading your chocolate's privacy (What in Merlin's beard does that mean?) and I won't do it again, see."

Trust me to find a decent apology.

He stifled a laugh. I feel my cheeks burn.

"It's fine. In any case, I'm glad that you enjoyed my sweets," Remus says mildly. "Go on, have the other bar."

Have the other bar? Excuse me, but I am not ever so much of a glutton to run after another bar.

But I am still hungry.

I look around the room and notice a grocery basket by the cupboard filled with vegetables.

"Thank you very much, but I will just cook for myself," I say.

Oh crap. No wonder I haven't noticed the basket earlier. And that is because no matter how hard I try, I. Just. Can't. Cook.

"Ah, it would be delightful to watch the Ministry's youngest Auror try her magic at the kitchen," he says in jest.

Nooo! I think I would crumble in shame if Remus Lupin, of all the people in this universe, will get to watch me in a very private cooking demonstration. Why does he have to be so good at the art of pulling my leg? I guess I just have to be brave and do this…

"Uhm, Remus, I don't feel like cooking," I say.

"Can I have some of your chocolate again?"

He smiles at me.

"Of course."

Reviews would be delightful, just like chocolate. :)