Moonlit Steps

In the deep of the night, she looked beautiful. The shadows danced across her face, darkening her eyes and turning the curtain of brown hair into a protective shield. She would have blended into the darkened green of the land if it weren't for her pale skin, shimmering in the light of the waxing moon. She was still and unmoving, her face upturned, and as he stepped closer, he could see the glistening tears drops clinging to her cheeks.

"Nymphadora." Her name was the caress of a lover on his lips, but it was not loud enough to catch her attention. He was thankful for he was not sure he sought to capture her attention. But he stepped closer once more, catching the radiant moonbeams on his own skin. He glanced down at his lacklustre skin, wincing at the way the beams highlighted the faded pink scars. They were the only part of him that shone in the moonlight, pearly in the way all her skin was.

He stepped closer, his footsteps silent and careful on the grass. A lion trying not to make a gazelle run. But he came too close for in the next moment she took three long steps. Her mouth was turned down in determination.

He stepped closer. She stepped away. He stepped closer. She stepped away. He stepped closer. She burst out into sobs that echoed in the still wake of tragedy.

"Nymphadora."

"It's Tonks, Professor Lupin." Through her sobs, her voice was nearly as cold as a midwinter's night, chilling him even in the heat of the summer.

"This is for the best."

He did not know if it was she who hissed or if it was the gentle breeze whistling through the trees.

"I'm old, I'm—"

"Poor, I'm dangerous. I'm a bloody fool who thinks that the woman I claimed to love has all the maturity of a three year old."

"Nymphadora."

"If you don't love me, just say it."

"I do. But I don't want to hurt you."

She laughed hysterically and he took a step back in shock.

"Doesn't want to hurt me he says..." She kept laughing harshly. It ebbed away slowly and she took a deep breath. "What do you think you're doing right now, Remus?"

The question caught him off guard. What did he think he was doing? He was pushing away. Keeping her from making a terrible mistake. He knew how much it hurt him—but why would it hurt her?

"I know what you think, Remus," she said. She took one step closer to him. Turned away from the moon, her shadow darkened features looked menacing. "You think I'm young and silly and immature. I am younger than you. And I make dumb jokes. But I am an Auror, and I couldn't do my job if I was childish."

"I never said you were childish." But he had implied it, hoping to make her hate him.

She took another step towards him. "I don't know what's going on inside your head. I don't know why you think I can't love you with the depths of my soul. I don't know what you think I'm thinking about you. So let me tell you." She paused to breathe in heavily. "I think you're funny and handsome and a good man. I love lying in your arms, hearing your voice, listening to your heart beat. I feel comforted and happy just being with you. I love the way you love—loved me. I love—" With a choking she broke off. She took six long deep breaths and another step before she continued. "I don't know how to say it. But I love you and everything you are. That means I love the wolf too."

"No one can love a monster."

"It's a part of you. It made you into the man I love. I have to love it, even if I hate it."

Her logic made no sense to him, but then, her logic never did. She claimed to love him though there was nothing to love.

"Nymphadora, you don't love me. You loathe the wolf."

"You loathe the wolf. You hate yourself. I don't. Don't tell me what I'm feeling, Lupin."

"Nymphadora. You. Do. Not. Love. Me."

The reasonable side of his head wanted her to agree. The lovestruck, fanciful side he thought he had killed wanted her to throw herself in his arms and again tell him she loved him with everything she had.

"You're right."

He forgot to breathe when the crushing weight of her confession crashed into him. A bitter voice inside his head said, Are you happy now, old man?

Yes, he was happy... and miserable.

"I hate you," she continued, unaware of the fact he had yet to breathe. "You achieved your goal, Professor. I never want to see your face again."

Light footfalls sound on the grass. Ten steps away from him, closer to the dim burning torches of Hogsmeade. He finally managed to take a lungful of air and took his own ten steps towards the torches, walking alongside her.

Walk away, the rational voice said. Walk away now, old man. Before it's too late.

But it was already too late.

"Go away, Remus."

"How can you love a monster?"

"I don't love a monster. I love a man."

"I thought you hated me." He tried to make his tone turn the comment into a joke, but it fell flat.

She stopped suddenly. He turned to her in question.

"Remus, tell me the truth for once."

The implication cut into him. He schooled his face into a neutral expression.

"Do you want me to hate you?"

The truth was a dangerous thing. The truth burned and slashed and poisoned, leaving a path of well-intentioned destruction in its wake. And he didn't know who this truth would hurt.

"Yes... and no."

"Let's try this again. Do you really, truly want me to hate you?"

He looked down at his feet. He felt like he was twelve years old again and she was the first girl to ever notice him. It made heat colour his cheeks and awkwardness take over his limbs.

"No, I want you to love me."

"How can you want both?"

"How can you feel both?"

"Love and hate aren't so different."

"I want to keep you safe, and to do that, you have to hate me."

"I'm not safe anyway. We're in the middle of war in case you haven't noticed."

"I've noticed."

They took a step towards each other.

She wrapped her soft, smaller hand around his hardened one. Her dark eyes bore into his. Quietly, tenderly, she asked, "Will you let me love you, Remus?"

He closed his eyes, letting her sweet words wash over him. His head immediately demanded he answer no, but his heart drowned out his head as if it never spoke. He stepped closer, leaning his forehead against hers. Instead of answering, he kissed her.

AN: I've never written Remus/Tonks before, so any constructive criticism would be welcome. I can very honestly say this literally just came to me and was written in a sleep-deprived fog. Hope you enjoyed.