This is for the Pumpkin Pastie Eating Contest on the Reviews Corner Forum. The prompt is '(title) Chocolate Truffle Symptoms'.
I'm wandering into romance here, which I don't do often, so please give me feedback if you can.
Enjoy!
Remus was more than shocked when the chocolate truffles arrived on his doorstep. He stared at them for a while, frowning, wondering who on Earth had discovered what his favourite treat was. Honeydukes' finest chocolate truffles. The box wrapped in gold ribbon, itching to be opened. Who could know?
Padfoot, of course, but why would he gift Remus with more chocolate when he always complained about his addiction? Unless they were covered in some hideous potion, he couldn't see why Sirius would grant him such a gift. He was locked in Grimmauld Place anyway, so there was no way to buy chocolates, or to deliver them. Remus doubted any messenger would drop off presents for the infamous mass murderer Sirius Black.
Peter Pettigrew knew, but the werewolf doubted any Death Eater would give presents to a known werewolf, even if they used to be friends. And it was more likely Peter would simply eat them himself along the way.
Other old classmates had long severed ties with the quiet bookworm Remus Lupin, and why would they even care anyway? James and Sirius had always been the popular ones.
Maybe he'd let it slip during one of the more relaxing Order meetings? Perhaps Dedalus Diggle had finally realised that he ought to thank Remus for the business with the illegal occamy egg smugglers.
Or it could be Albus - he knew everything there was to know about every Order member, and was known to do peculiar things such as this. Was he thanking Remus for the years of hard work on behalf of the Order?
Not likely. Remus had never asked for any thanks from anyone, Sirius was in a bad mood (not even allowed out of the house), and Dedalus Diggle had a hopeless case of memory loss.
Resolving to consider it later, the werewolf just picked up the box and took it inside his shabby London apartment, setting it on the coffee table and promising himself he wouldn't touch it.
He couldn't concentrate. Not at all. His eyes were drawn to the sparkling gold ribbon. His nose hunted for the strong scent. His mouth longed to taste that sweet richness of chocolate. He wanted to hear the rustle of the packet as he ripped it open. He wanted to feel the chocolate slide down his throat.
In other words, Remus had an addiction that he still couldn't shake off. Since he was eleven, when Sirius had force-fed him fifty chocolate frogs, Remus had not been able to stop himself when it came to chocolate.
The words on the pages of the letters seemed to blur together.
It is our regret to inform you, Mr Lupin, that your request of chocolate…
...request of a job in our company has been declined. We have a great many chocolates...
...great many clients who would be disturbed by a creature like yourself and would instead prefer chocolate…
Remus was swearing only two sentences in. He'd never get through the stack of letters - all declining his requests for jobs - with the truffles right there.
With a frustrated sigh, he reached towards the truffles and places one in his mouth.
It was soft as he bit into it, and sure enough it tasted of heaven. He relished in the rich taste, letting it run down his throat. His head cleared, and he realised that he hadn't treated himself to chocolate in nearly a month. He'd have to buy some more.
Just as he reached for truffle number two, the doorbell rang.
He rolled his eyes. His truffle eating was being interrupted.
He swung the door open and saw on the other side-
"Nymphadora?"
"It's Tonks. I've told you a million times." Her hair was mint green today, an unexpected change from the usual bubblegum pink. Her eyes were still brown - like chocolate, he thought happily - and she wore a sweet smile on her heart-shaped face. "Well? Do you mind if I come in?"
"Oh, yes. Of course."
Remus suddenly felt embarrassed about his messy flat. It was tiny, with peeling wallpaper and uncomfortable furniture. It was all he could afford, and he'd never cared before, yet suddenly the idea was humiliating.
He led Dora into the tiny living room, gesturing that she sit on the sofa that he'd recently vacated.
"Does Dumbledore want me? Or is it another Order matter?" Remus asked tiredly.
"Neither. I just wanted to talk."
"Talk?" He was confused now. Dora knew he was a werewolf, and now she wanted to talk.
"Yes. Talk. Communicate. Chat. It's something friends do."
Remus felt the word 'friends' as a painful blow to the chest. But he should feel good about that … right? Someone else who didn't care about his condition. A friend was someone you could trust.
Why did the word feel like a dagger to the chest? Why did he so desperately not want to be friends with Nymphadora Tonks?
Then she saw the truffles. "Can I have one?" she asked.
The word 'no' was poised on the tip of Remus' tongue. He wanted them all to himself, to keep them away from everyone but him.
But the look on her face … her eyes were wide as she eyes him quizzically, her forehead slightly creased, her mouth curling into a pout…
"Yes." He choked out. "Take one."
He was abruptly aware that he was sitting next to her and that she was impossible close. A mere inch was between them, and Remus had a bizarre instinct to close that gap. His head was spinning, and his body felt numb.
Something was happening to him that he hadn't felt for sixteen years.
Remus Lupin - thirty-five-year-old chocoholic werewolf - had fallen in love.
It was stupid. Stupid. They'd only met a few times, yet every meeting was paired with a lengthy conversation. Remus talked to her with ease, laughing and being generally more open than he would normally be with anyone but Sirius (or, many years before, James, Peter and Lily). She didn't care about his condition at all, a rare trait in a witch or wizard. But surely no-one can fall in love that fast?
Even as he admitted it now, his heart swelled with an overwhelming desire. She was right there … no. What was he thinking? It must be the truffles. They were messing with his head
They talked and ate, as usual, with a casual ease. Remus reached for the last truffle - and found his hand hitting something first. Her hand. They jumped back at the same time.
Remus really wanted that truffle.
But the guest should have it. That was the rule, right?
And he'd had one more than her, anyway.
Remus still wanted that truffle.
An aching in his stomach, even though he wasn't hungry.
A buzz in his head.
"We'll share it." Dora suggested.
Remus didn't like calling her Tonks. Using her last name seemed like they weren't at the same level. Teachers used last names, and Remus really didn't want to be her teacher. It would feel as if they were separated, as if they didn't know each other. It would feel like the truth. They didn't know each other. Not really. He just liked to think they did. And they were separated. Of course they were. Nothing like lycanthropy to get in the way of love.
At first he thought it was the truffle. There was something soft against his lips, and it was sweet and rich and good. Then he realised it wasn't. He'd leaned forward. Without even thinking, he'd pressed his lips to hers.
Dora tasted of chocolate truffles, and it was a very good taste.
Then her hands were clasped around his neck, and he moved his own hands to rest on her waist. One of his hands wandered into her hair, feeling the feathery softness. The kiss itself suddenly wasn't soft anymore. It was passionate as she took control, pushing closer to him. He pushed right back until their bodies were pressed together like puzzle pieces finally finding their place: together.
They were locked in that embrace until Remus reluctantly pulled back to breathe. He smiled and she smiled back.
He leaned forwards again. What was he doing? He couldn't control himself. It must be the truffles. Just chocolate truffle symptoms. But with a grin, he realised that he didn't want the truffles anymore. He was addicted - completely addicted - to Nymphadora Tonks.