Part Two
"I should have taken you somewhere else."
Tonks only vaguely registered Remus' flat voice; it was the clatter of his fork against his plate that jolted her attention away from the purple Ministry of Magic Protection Against Dark Forces poster hanging over their corner table at the Leaky Cauldron.
"The point was to get away from soldiering." Remus took a drink of Firewhiskey, then dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "We should have gone to a Muggle pub."
"Muggle London's swarming with Dementors, too," Tonks said with a sigh, poking a sausage rather savagely with her fork. "I'd just be moping about how oblivious everyone is."
Remus' gaze was fixed downward as he paid too much attention to the simple task of spreading his napkin over his lap.
Now it was Tonks who dropped her silverware. "I'm sorry," she whimpered.
"Stop apologising." Remus reached across the table and caught her hand -- which, she suddenly realised -- was tugging at her hair.
"I know you hate it," he said quietly.
Yes. Tonks hated the mousy brown. Mostly because she couldn't change it. At least she'd got rid of the grey streaks.
Remus gently chafed her palm with his thumbs. "Please believe me when I say you're beautiful no matter what colour hair you've got."
How could she not believe him, when he said in those husky tones, that she was beautiful to him? Even if it wasn't true. Tonks gave him a little smile anyway, because she hated to see him worrying over her hair troubles. He brushed his lips across her knuckles.
It wasn't like Remus to be demonstrative in public. Tonks was surprised when he continued to hold her hand to his mouth even though he'd stopped kissing her fingers, and was staring dazedly at her. His fingers did not tighten around hers, but something in his grip changed from reassuring to needing assurance.
He was clinging to her.
"Remus, what--?"
"Is it me?"
Tonks blinked. Was it him? What in Merlin's name did he mean? She leant toward him, bumping her Firewhiskey with her elbow in the process. There was only a swallow or two left, so she ignored it.
"What do you mean, is it you?"
Remus stared at his hands clasped around hers. "You say it's your mood. Earlier I…I didn't know what to say to help you, because my mood isn't…" Almost flustered, he looked up, eyes very bright in the dreary tavern and looking everywhere but at her. "I think it's self-explanatory, Tonks. Do my moods affect yours?"
The edge of the table was digging into her elbow, but Tonks knew pulling away from Remus at this moment wouldn't help matters. She was an Auror. She could deal with an awkward arm position.
She couldn't deal with this mad idea he'd suddenly got that their relationship wasn't good for her. Where on earth had it come from?
She brushed it aside. It was just a mood. He just needed talking out of it.
"Remus, I love you. Aren't couples supposed to be in tune with each other's emotions?"
For a moment, Remus regarded her with a neutral expression. Tonks' heart accelerated. Neutrality wasn't a good thing when it came to love. Not when it came to this sort of thing. What the bloody hell was he thinking?
Remus only confused her more when he kissed her hand again. "I love you, too."
Smiling, he nodded to her bangers and mash, and his shepherd's pie, both meals only picked at.
"Shall we Floo back to yours?" he asked. "Or would you like to see if we can't find something cheerful in Diagon Alley?"
"S'your place, too." Tonks stood too quickly and grabbing at the back of her chair till the dizzy rush of blood passed.
Really, they'd been together for ages, and even though he'd only moved in with her when the question arose of Grimmauld Place passing to Bellatrix Lestrange, Remus ought to be familiar enough to say things like, Do you want to go home?
Normally he did. That was what niggled.
Tonks bit her tongue to keep from bitching at him. Blokes always botched these things -- even good blokes like Remus. She was probably making too much of nothing. Her emotions were ridiculous today.
She threaded her arm through Remus' as he slid out of his side of the booth, and gestured to the Ministry poster. "I'll get a bit of cheer from going out after dark."
"You rebel."
It would have been a more satisfying act of rebellion if Diagon Alley hadn't been deserted due to everyone else taking the Ministry completely seriously. Not that Tonks could blame them, with the mists swirling with creepy fingers through the crooked streets.
The number of darkened shop windows -- closed too early -- didn't aid in the search for cheer. Something like excitement rose up in Tonks at the prospect of ogling the latest Firebolt model in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies; a purple Ministry poster plastered over the display squelched the feeling. Next to it, as if to frighten people into total compliance, Bellatrix leered from a wanted poster.
The heavy-lidded eyes drew Tonks in. She vaguely heard Remus say, "Come on, Tonks, let's go on," but neither that nor his tug on her hand could stop her from falling, falling, from the dais in the Department of Mysteries, whilst her aunt taunted in that deranged baby-talk: "Oopsy-daisy, ickle mudblood fweak! Peek-a-boo! Auntie Bella hexed you!"
"Nymphadora!" Remus' arms were around her waist, and he grunted -- an ooph of exertion.
Tonks snapped alert. Remus was holding her up; her knees must have buckled.
His eyes peered anxiously down at her. "Do you need--?"
"Just to get away from these damn posters."
Tonks forced herself to stand, and then to take shaky steps. Remus kept a hand on her elbow, but it wasn't a sure, guiding hand. Tonks felt keen eyes studying her. She didn't look at him. She didn't want to see him blaming himself.
Or him doubting her.
She kept walking, but didn't look at anything. She didn't want to see Bellatrix's face, or to hear those words again. Maybe they ought to go--
"Here's Madam Malkin's." Remus stopped abruptly, and Tonks tripped over a crack in the pavement. His hold on her elbow tightened, steadying her. "She's open. Shall we go in?"
"I could get a hat to hide this god-awful hair."
Remus released her arm and glanced at the door and shoved his hands deep into his trouser pockets. "It's gone back to your colour."
Her colour.
Tonks' hand flew to her hair. Thick. Long. A black mane cascading her shoulders and back. Bellatrix's face leered, surrounded by the same--
No. Her colour. Not the Blacks'. Not Bellatrix's.
Tonks hand fell to her side, and her hair fell in her face. "That damn poster."
With a jangle, Madam Malkin's front door swung open.
"Professor Lupin!"
They turned to see a moon-faced teenaged boy coming out. Tonks didn't know him, but she instantly recognised famed Auror Alice Longbottom's son.
Alice Longbottom, tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange.
The Longbottom boy -- Neville, Tonks remembered from the Daily Prophet stories about the Department of Mysteries battle -- stopped short, mouth falling open as he saw Tonks.
Oh dear Merlin.
Instantly, Tonks turned and scrunched up her face, willing her hair to at least morph into short spikes no Black would dream of wearing, if not to a colour that had never been passed down through that family tree.
As the weight of that thick black hair vanished from her shoulders, Tonks felt as if all the Dementors had fled Diagon Alley.
She let out a deep breath and turned back to see Remus doing the same. The colour had returned to Neville's face, and behind him in the shop door stood his grandmother.
Tonks glanced at Remus and noted a tug at the corner of his mouth as his gaze drifted up to the vulture hat perched on her old-fashioned coif.
"Hello Neville," he said.
The teenager's round face split in a grin; clearly he shared Remus' thoughts.
Even if Tonks hadn't known the story behind that conspiratorial glance, she was sure it would have made her smile to see the rapport. Remus was a good man. The best of wizards. She was lucky, very lucky, to have him in her life.
"Gran," said Neville, suddenly red in the face, "This is--"
"I know Remus Lupin," Mrs. Longbottom cut him off, brushing past her grandson to greet the adults. "He was a great friend of your parents'." She shifted a number of shopping bags and cordially extended her hand. "What a pity that the Ministry have not seen the value of effective Defence Against the Dark Arts instructors such as yourself during these dark times."
Remus' eyebrows arched, and a mixture of surprise and self-consciousness laced his frozen smile. "Thank you," he said, voice rising at the end in a question.
Tonks snorted with unexpected laughter as she wondered suddenly what Mrs. Longbottom would say if she knew how "effective instructors" like Remus taught defence against Boggarts.
Mrs. Longbottom turned to her. "Nymphadora Tonks. You look exactly like-"
Tonks felt as though a Bludger had burst from the display of Quality Quidditch Supplies, torn through Bellatrix's picture, and struck her squarely in the stomach. Dear Merlin, why was her morphing all buggered--
"--your mother at your age."
Tonks had barely caught her breath before Mrs. Longbottom snatched it away with another Bludger-like statement. "Your mother must be very proud of your heroism in this war." Without waiting for a response, she continued, shoulders held proudly erect, "I have just taken Neville to purchase a new wand, since his was broken in the fight at the Ministry."
Neville took out his new wand to show Remus, and Remus voiced approval that it was an excellent implement for defensive spells -- Riddikulus in particular, he added with a wink. All the while, Tonks puzzled over Mrs. Longbottom. Here was a witch who'd lost a son and daughter-in-law to the last war -- perhaps in a way worse than death; yet she was out with her grandson when the Ministry declared it unsafe, praising his role in a battle with Death Eaters he never should have been present at.
Tonks' parents hadn't said in so many words, but she'd read anxiety between the stiff lines in their owls, heard the strain in their voices and seen the troubled looks in their eyes when they Flooed. She knew that if they'd ever been able to change her mind about anything, they'd try to talk her into a career change.
Especially if they knew about her morphing issues.
"Have you been to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" Neville, sheathing his wand, asked Remus. "It's brilliant. I--"
"I hope you are not getting any mad notions," Mrs. Longbottom interjected, "about leaving school."
"Oh no, Gran!" Neville's face went red again as he shook his head. "I like Herbology too much. I want to get my NEWT." With a guilty glance at Remus, he swallowed hard and added, "DADA, too, if I can, but I can't say for sure till they announce the new professor."
Tonks felt a brief pang for Remus, but it was quelled by Remus' kind smile. He didn't let ends spoil the memory of the good times that came before. He healed from hurts, without becoming embittered or desensitised.
"The Weasley twins do seem to have some sense in selling Defence products," Mrs. Longbottom said, generously. "Well, Neville, we'd best be on our way home. A pleasure, Mr. Lupin, Auror Tonks."
"Bye!" Neville waved over his shoulder as he took the shopping bags from his grandmother.
"That was something cheerful in Diagon Alley," said Remus as they watched the boy bound along beside Mrs. Longbottom as she walked briskly back to the Leaky Cauldron.
"I imagine it's lovely to know you're still the most popular teacher," Tonks said.
Remus ducked his head and nudged the pavement crack with his toe, but he did look pleased. "If I were a really good teacher, I wouldn't have had favourites. But I can't deny I like Neville very much."
"I reckon even McGonagall and Flitwick have their favourites. And I've a feeling in McGonagall's case, you're one of them."
"I thought only former pranksters secretly liked mischievous students best."
"Maybe Minerva was a hellion in her day. I know you've seen how she is about Quidditch."
Chuckling, Remus tilted his head toward the shop. "So you pass on browsing Madam Malkin's?"
"I like Gladrags better," Tonks replied, taking Remus' arm again and pulling him away from the shop. "I can't shake the old memories of Mum dragging me in here and forcing me to wear sensible robes."
"Thanks," said Remus dryly, "for letting me know how you really feel about my clothes."
"I didn't say--"
"Your wrinkled nose did."
He shot her a look of mock offence, which, if she'd been in a lighter mood, Tonks would have struggled very hard not to laugh at. As it was, she retained a good poker face.
"Really, Nymphadora, you looked like you'd just been force-fed Bobotuber Pus."
"I did not!"
Remus quirked an eyebrow.
Tonks released his arm and scowled. "You know I like your sensible robes."
It seemed impossible that an eyebrow could arch that high.
"Really, Remus. I just can't picture you in--" Further down the street, she spied one of the Weasley twins -- too far away for her to tell which -- outside the joke shop, hanging a purple poster on the front window. "--in magenta robes."
"Oh, I think you'd secretly fancy me in magenta robes."
"I think you secretly fancy wearing them, and I can't believe Fred and George are actually putting up those bloody posters."
"I can't believe you would think for a minute that's what George is actually doing."
Sure enough, as they approached number ninety-three, Tonks saw, instead of the Ministry of Magic seal, flashing yellow words on the purple backdrop:
WHY ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT
YOU-KNOW-WHO?
YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO --
THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION
THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!
Tonks gawped. She waited for laughter…
…for an age.
Dammit, why wouldn't it come? This was the sort of thing she always thought funny. Hilarious. She ought to be rolling on the pavement, laughing her socks off. Her mind echoed with her own earlier comment about oblivious Muggles. But she didn't think Fred and George were oblivious. Just cheeky.
Why wasn't she bloody laughing?
Finally, she managed a little snort of amusement. Uncharacteristic, and almost as annoying as not laughing at all.
Worse, Tonks arched up on her toes, and as Remus leant close, she heard herself murmur, "Molly will murder them."
Remus' fingers tickled her skin as he cupped his hand around her ear; his breath made the hairs on the back of her neck stand as he whispered, "That's probably why Fred and George aren't terribly concerned about Voldemort."
"It's true." George turned suddenly from the window. His eyes rounded at the sight of her, then he flashed a grin and went on smoothly as he approached them, "If you'd ever been the victim of Mum's mouth-washing charms, you wouldn't bat an eye at Crucio."
Remus chuckled, but Tonks didn't. Of course the twins would have planted their bloody Extendable Ears all over the premises. And maybe the twins were oblivious, after all; could any sensitive person see Neville Longbottom and then joke about Unforgivable Curses like that?
But Remus wasn't taking it too seriously.
And she wasthe one with manic hair.
George shook Remus' hand, then turned an appraising eye on Tonks. "Molly will murder them? I never thought I'd live to see you talk like a fuddy-duddy, Tonks, or wear an ordinary hair colour."
Tonks' hands balled into fists at her sides as she restrained herself from reaching for her wand and casting her first Bat Bogey Hex in years. George wasn't being mean. He didn't know…
George shook his head and sighed dramatically, then cut his eyes slyly. "Or is it Nymphadora now?"
"I'll never be enough of an old stuffer for that name," Tonks shot back. No longer able to resist the urge, she whipped out her wand and wagged it at him. "And you'd--"
Out the corner of her eye, she saw Remus smirking. Of course he was dying to say he knew what she could be enough of to go by Nymphadora.
Now it was her face that was changing colour without her permission; frankly, it was a relief not to be able to blame it on her powers.
And at least her temper cooled.
"I'd think," Tonks said, "after living with your mum and Ginny, you'd know better than to cross powerful witches. Or to eavesdrop on them."
George actually went wide-eyed and pale, and he stepped backward. Remus was looking at her now, a grin threatening to break through his smirk.
Tonks twirled her wand. "Accio George'sExtendable Ears!"
Two flew from George's ears, along with a pair from the ground at their feet, into her hand.
"Don't worry, I won't hex you," Tonks said, pocketing them, "'cause I'm still bloody impressed with these things."
George's laughter was a strange sound in the quiet street. One wizened old crone sweeping rubbish at the next corner peered warily from under the brim of her hat. The joke shop door burst open, and Fred strode out -- also laughing -- perfectly aware of what had just taken place.
"As proprietors of a new establishment," he said loudly, "George and I are wearing them all the time for the first few weeks so we know what the public are saying about us."
Remus exchanged a look of bemusement with Tonks, then leant toward the twins conspiratorially. "I'm fairly certain that sort of practice isn't precisely legal. You might consider not admitting to it in front of an Auror."
Tonks pointed her wand in his face. "Are you asking to be arrested along with this pair as an accessory to the crime?"
The twins sprang forward and, one on either side, looped their arms through hers.
"No arrests till you've seen the joke shop," said George as they steered her toward the door.
"Why?" Tonks asked, glancing over her shoulder at Remus, who followed with his hands in his pockets, shoulders shaking as he chuckled. "Because then I'll have more on you?"
"You'd never lock up such brilliance." Fred flicked his wand to open the front doors, then released her arm to make a sweeping bow. "Welcome to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."
Tonks found herself hanging back as Fred and George started their tour. Her ears rang as they talked boisterously, one starting in when the other paused to take a breath. She felt dizzy as they zigzagged all over the shop, with no rhyme or reason to which displays they showed off.
Maybe she was a fuddy-duddy, after all.
Or else she'd just got used to the fear-induced quiet, and the weighty gloom of the Dementors.
Her mum had warned her that Aurors got old before their time.
Those grey hairs might not be a morphing issue.
Yet she defied her mum to see Remus, with his grey hair and lined face, and say he'd aged before his time.
Remus had been fighting dark forces all his life, and still had a smile on his face and a light in his eyes. He didn't even look tired anymore. There was a spring in his step, and he kept up with the twins. Really, he might be nearly twenty years older, and maintain his ever-present sophistication as he compared the twins' merchandise to Zonko's; but with his fringe falling in his eyes as he chuckled at Nosebleed Nougats and Puking Pastilles, Remus looked every bit as boyish as Fred and George.
"You know," Remus said, growing serious again as he scanned the shelves of Skiving Snackboxes, "I've some notes that could be quite useful to you in your development of skiving products."
"Marauder tips?" Fred asked, exchanging an eager look with his twin.
Tonks caught Remus' eye, then rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Please don't make me arrest you for instigating Magical truancy."
Smothering a grin, Remus turned to the twins. "In my capacity as professor, my conscience never allowed me to tell you, but I kept a journal of every prank you two and your mate Lee Jordan tried to pull over on me--"
"--tried being the operative word," interrupted Fred, looking at Tonks.
George added, "We never got a single thing past him."
"Not surprising, of course."
"No -- not from the brilliant and dastardly mind behind the Marauder's Map."
Remus ducked his head slightly, but his grin was wide. "That was mostly Sirius."
As the three laughed over some of the more ingenious pranks, it occurred to Tonks that in all the times she'd heard Remus talk about his year of teaching, the only vibe she'd ever got from him was that he'd thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Though Dumbledore had primarily recruited Remus because Harry needed a bodyguard, and though Remus had known the job wouldn't last -- either because of his condition or the curse -- he'd seized the time he had. That year remained something good to hold on to.
She shouldn't have let that moment with him at her flat slip away.
"Anyway," Remus was saying, "now that you pair no longer risk expulsion, and I am just a friend, I'll copy out the pertinent parts of my journal, with notes on how you might have accomplished your goals, and owl them to you."
"Or," said George, looking as though he'd just had an epiphany about the next prank sensation to sweep the nation, "you could come to work for us in product development."
"We want to expand our line of Defence products," Fred added.
"Ah yes--" With a pleasant smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, Remus turned and absently picked up a Headless Hat. "Neville Longbottom's grandmother was just singing their praises."
The twins shared a befuddled look, then went off about how Mrs. Longbottom lectured them about the fates of wizards who left school and didn't earn any NEWTs.
Tonks was only vaguely aware of what they were saying, distracted with puzzling out the prior exchange. Something about the twins' job offer had seemed almost sincere; Remus had deflected it. Why? Had he felt pitied? Or did it hurt to know that even if his friends did want to employ him, they couldn't?
Whatever the reason, the odd look was banished by Remus' laughter at the twins' account of Mrs. Longbottom's visit.
Still, Tonks responded to the inner prompting to stand next to Remus. Out of habit, she slipped her hand into his, threading their fingers together -- only to realise, as his eyes rounded slightly, that Fred and George were part of the younger set they'd avoided letting on about their relationship to.
As though it were some prank merchandise about to get the better of her, she dropped Remus' hand.
"Would you change the name of the shop if you took Remus on?" she asked quickly, high-pitched and shaky, hoping the twins hadn't noticed the more-than-platonic action.
Without giving it a thought, Fred blurted, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and Moony's Mischief Management."
George gave Tonks a significant look before glancing slyly up at Remus. "Or Remus' Romantic Rendezvous?"
Ribbons of heat raced up Tonks' neck. She snatched the Headless Hat from Remus and put it on, immediately wishing she hadn't. Bit more obvious than blushing, making your head go invisible. Whipping it off, she avoided the sniggering twins' eyes by replacing it haphazardly on the display.
"Maybe we ought to get Remus in love potion or daydream development," said George.
Remus cleared his throat. "As a fellow prankster, I take great offence that you'd think I need love potions to get dates."
To Tonks surprise, Remus grabbed her hand, raised it to his lips, and bestowed a dramatic kiss on the back. His blue eyes twinkled up at her from beneath his fringe. The ghosts of the earlier doubts he'd expressed fled.
"Also," Tonks said, turning to the twins as a smile bloomed, "he's crap at potions."
Fred and George hooted, and Remus shot Tonks a playful glower. She squeezed his hand; he squeezed it back…
…and his gaze flickered down at her lips.
A swarm of butterflies took flight inside of Tonks. She knew Remus would never be so demonstrative as to give her a proper kiss in public. The way her stomach muscles tensed at the sight of how tempted he was nearly as invigorating as the touch of his lips would have been.
She was well on her way to being in the mood later.
Hopefully he still would be.
"Blokes with a sense of humour always get interesting girls," George said.
The butterflies stopped fluttering, as though swatted away. An interesting girls. With a good personality. Tonks knew she was hardly Playwitch centrefold material, but she'd thought she had a little more going for her than her hair.
"And the hot ones," Fred added, looking her up and down and giving an appreciative -- but exaggerated -- wink.
"Thank you, Fred," said Remus. For a moment Tonks' heart sank further into her stomach as he let go of her hand. It leapt again when he slipped his arm around her, settling his hand more intimately on her hip. "Can I count on you to be my partner in this business after my girlfriend has hexed your twin to oblivion?"
"As a token of our goodwill," George said, actually looking slightly flustered, "would you pair fancy a sneak peek at our newest Defence product?"
Tonks cast a wary eye at the twins. "D'you mean you'd like us to be test subjects?"
"Just your clothes," Fred said.
"We'd be honoured to lend our clothes to a Weasleys Wizard Wheeze," said Remus.
Tonks looked up at Remus. "Have you gone mental? We'll end up starkers in front of them, for sure."
"You won't end up starkers," said George with a wave of his hand that was anything but reassuring.
"It's Polyesterjuice Potion," Fred added, as though it explained everything.
"Polyesterjuice Potion?" Tonks and Remus asked at once.
"Yup!" said George. "The clothes change sensation that's sweeping--"
Fred whacked his twin on the back of the head. "I told you, you great wally, we can't keep using that over and--"
George returned the whack then, as if there had been no break in the explanation about what in hell Polyesterjuice Potion was, he flashed a charming grin at Tonks and Remus. "It's for the witch or wizard who isn't very handy with Transfiguration, but needs a quick disguise."
"Well," said Tonks, "Remus and I are both very handy with Transfiguration, so I'm afraid you'll have to--"
"You'll have to forgive Nymphadora for being a fuddy-duddy," Remus cut in, letting go of her waist and shaking his head at her sadly. "All that time around Mad-Eye--"
"I am not a fuddy-duddy!" Tonks' hands flew to her hips. "And don't call me Nymphadora!"
Remus winked. It was infuriating.
And sexy.
Tonks had to fight very hard to maintain her glare.
"I'll test your potion." Remus stepped bravely toward the twins.
"You'll be sorry," Tonks said.
Remus merely laughed as the twins swept him back to their office.
While they were gone, Tonks browsed the shop. Spying a mirror, she was unable to resist looking into it, even though she knew she wouldn't like what she saw. Black hair just made her look so peaky. She was in better spirits, now, though. Maybe…
She scrunched up her face, visualising bubblegum pink.
A prickle at her scalp.
Her heart leapt.
Bubblegum pink…Vivid, brilliant bubblegum--
She jumped, upsetting the mirror and dooming herself to seven years of bad luck when uproarious laughter erupted from behind the closed door. Fred's and George's. No trace of Remus' low chuckle. That didn't bode well. Something thumped loudly on the floor. She imagined one of the twins falling on the floor laughing.
Poor Remus…
She really wanted to see what they'd done to him.
As Tonks cast a Reparo over the mirror and wondered if her bad luck would be seven years of morphing issues, the office door creaked on its hinges and swung open. Fred and George staggered out, almost drunkenly, faces exactly matching their robes, and swiping tears from their eyes.
"Miss Tonks…" Fred started, then collapsed into laughter against George's shoulder. Tonks giggled at his rather vain effort to compose himself with deep breaths. At last he straightened up and said, "We'd like to introduce you to your date."
George gave his wand a flick, and a scarf tied itself around Tonks' forehead, covering her eyes. "His name's Remus Lupin."
Taking her hand and tugging her, presumably, toward the office, Fred said, "He's sitting in my chair…"
They stopped walking and said, in unison, "And he's wearing…"
The blindfold fell away from Tonks' eyes as Remus' rather choked voice said, "…Walburga Black's clothes."
Tonks gawped.
Yes, that was Remus Lupin seated behind Fred's desk.
Her boyfriend, Remus. Former prefect, professor, powerful wizard, respected Order member…
Wearing a deep purple dress.
A silk dress.
He stood -- gingerly, holding tightly to the armrests -- then daintily picked his way around the desk.
He was wearing dark grey, opalescent snakeskin stilettos.
Remus would be able to walk in high heels.
"Note the carefully matched shoes and handbag," said George.
Remus turned, and sure enough, over his shoulder hung a large snakeskin purse that might have been stylish in the seventies.
Tonks' gaze travelled upward from the purse to a hat that made Augusta Longbottom's look plain and ordinary as Tonks in her natural hair. Perched on the brim was the vulture-like head of an Augurey; in the back, glossy black feathers fanned out wide.
"I see you admire the Augurey hat," Fred said. "The feathers of the Irish Phoenix, as the bird is also known, repel both rain and ink. The ideal hat for the stylish professor."
Tonks stepped forward for a closer look at a stole of mahogany-coloured fur.
"Is that a--?"
"A Jarvey, yes," said Remus cheerfully, patting the once-living creature's stuffed head. "Sirius bought his mother one -- a live one -- for Christmas, to chase the garden gnomes. It kept saying very rude things to her, so she had it made into a stole."
Tonks turned to the twins, who were doubled over laughing. "How did you get--?"
"When the Order cleared out Grimmauld Place…" Fred said.
"…we nicked out a few things we thought might be useful," George finished.
"And it just happened we got the idea for Polyesterjuice Potion soon after…"
Tonks turned back to Remus. "Is this worse than being starkers?"
His cheeks were tinged with the faintest pink, but otherwise he showed no sign of embarrassment as he said with perfect seriousness, "I'm just glad I didn't end up wearing Kreacher's loincloth."
For a moment, Tonks stared at him. Remus stared back.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
It twitched again.
And again.
And then a smile cracked across his face and laughter burst out of him. Tonks' peals rang out with his, and soon her ears were ringing and her vision was blurred with tears. It became impossible to stand upright, and when she reached for Remus for support, they both collapsed -- Remus into a chair, losing his hat in the process, and Tonks onto his lap.
She laughed till there was no more laughter, and her eyes were dry and her cheeks were sticky and she was tired and her abdominal muscles hurt. But it was a good hurt, and a good tired. Laying her head on Remus' silk-clad shoulder -- avoiding the Jarvey head -- because she'd used up all her energy laughing, was utter contentment.
"Do you want to try it, Tonks?" George's voice was accompanied by the squeak of a cupboard door.
Tonks turned her head just enough to see the twins. "Will I end up in Kreacher's loincloth?"
Remus' body quivered with laughter against hers.
"You'll end up in witch's clothes, we promise." The laughter in Fred's words wasn't very convincing. "We gave Remus this bottle just to finally pull one over on him."
"You did not pull one over on me," Remus protested hoarsely. "I knew you'd have me in some embarrassing get-up."
"But you didn't know it would be that," said George.
Remus smiled pleasantly. "I was overdue for cosmic payback for my boggart escapades."
When the twins' laughter died, they leant close at the cupboard, whispering about which of the phials in the cupboard to test on Tonks.
"I'm completely mad to do this," she said, turning her face into the curve of Remus' neck.
"Indeed. But I admire a woman who's a few Bertie Botts short of a bag. Makes me feel better about getting myself into situations like this."
Tonks sat up and looked him over. Physically unable to really laugh, she voiced her amusement with an unladylike snort. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who looks peaky in purple."
Remus reached up and pushed a bit of fringe back from her face. "As a matter of fact, your hair's purple."
"It is?" She looked up to see, but of course succeeded only in straining her eye muscles, with nothing to show for it.
"Violently so," Remus said, smiling as he ran his fingers through the spikes that must be dishevelled now. "And peaky is the last word I'd use to describe you."
Tonks read in his eyes several much nicer descriptions than peaky. She was half-tempted to Apparate them back to her flat without a word to the twins, so he could say them. And so he could kiss her, as the way his eyes kept darting down to her mouth, indicated he wanted to.
"Bottoms up!" George thrust his hand between Tonks' and Remus' faces. Tonks nearly went cross-eyed as he held a phial in front of her nose.
Tonks took it and warily un-corked it. "If I end up in a bra and knickers, I will arrest you pair."
"If you end up in a bra and knickers, I shall Disapparate us immediately," said Remus gallantly -- even though the idea behind it was anything but -- wrapping his arm a little more firmly around her waist.
The twins sniggered.
Tonks drank. "Mm," she said. "Tastes like--"
"You only need one sip," said Fred, taking the phial from her.
Tonks didn't care anymore what it tasted like, because her jeans had just vanished.
And her t-shirt -- no -- only the sleeves of her t-shirt. And the neck. It had got longer at the bottom, covering her thighs, but ending several inches shy of her knees.
Worn pink cotton became lurid green dragonhide.
A strapless, dragonhide dress.
With shiny knee-high boots complete with lethal heels. Really, it was a good job she wasn't standing.
She glowered down at the stilettos Remus had walked in so gracefully.
Though, she reckoned it meant they were a well-rounded couple if one of them could do it. They were unconventional in so many other ways, why not the realm of high-heels, as well?
Suddenly Tonks became aware that Remus' warm hand was resting awfully close to her bum. With her legs draped over the arm of the chair, she must be giving the twins an eyeful. She slid them off, heels clunking on the floor. Holding tightly to Remus' shoulders, she stood, wobbly as a newborn unicorn, on her three-inch heels.
His shoulder shifted slightly as he reached to tug at the high neck of the purple silk dress. He looked truly ridiculous -- thank Merlin the hat had fallen off at least -- but seeing his Adam's apple bob against the fabric, noting the darkened eyes that were only for her, after she'd looked like crap most of the day thanks to her stupid emotions getting the better of her magic, she felt warm and tingly all over.
"How long…" Remus' voice cracked. He cleared his throat, and repeated, "How long will it take for our clothes to change back?"
Fred dropped his eyes, chagrined. "Just an hour."
"An hour's no good," said Remus.
"Maybe that's what you could do for us," George suggested. "Help us figure how to strengthen the formula."
"Tonks said he's crap at Potions."
"Remus doesn't care about how long the Potion works for your customers," Tonks said, taking a tottering step backward so Remus could stand, and clutching at his hands as he did. "He wants to know how long I'll be wearing this. He likes it. Or…"
She pulled Remus down so she could whisper in his ear. "…maybe you're thinking about how long you've got to get me home and get me out of it?"
Remus' eyes darkened, and the muscle worked just beneath his cheek.
Fred coughed. "C'mon, George, lets leave these two alone to admire each other's dresses."
"Or to help each other with their hard to reach buttons."
Tonks whipped her head over her shoulder. "We are not doing any unbuttoning here. Not with you pair of voyeurs and your Extendable Ears!"
"A troll could have figured out that you want Remus out of his dress," said George.
"Though I somehow doubt for the same reason," Remus said, glancing down at his outfit with the first sign of distaste he'd shown. Tonks hadn't realised how much she was hoping for that sign till relief washed over her.
"If you drink the one Tonks just drank," Fred said to Remus, "you'll be in the bloke version of her outfit."
Tonks laughed, glancing down at the chartreuse dress. "Your jackets!"
The twins beamed.
"Brilliant, really, gents," said Tonks, patting their shoulders. "You're going to be millionaires."
"But Tonks isn't wearing trousers," Remus said. "I'd rather be stuck in this dress than have no trousers."
Fred waggled his eyebrows. "Don't you trust us?"
"Why d'you need trousers, anyway?" George asked. "Won't it save time?"
For a man who was so discreet about his love life, it apparently took a lot more than a few ribald jokes to embarrass him. Of course, he'd been best mates with Sirius…
Maybe he needed this. Maybe it was healing.
In his typical artlessly graceful way, Remus whipped out his wand and waved it lazily over himself. Tonks had never been happier to see his tatty trousers and shapeless grey jumper over a white shirt.
"Fortunately," he said with his pleasant smile, "I'm quite handy at Transfiguration."
George chortled, and Fred, grinning hugely, stuck out a hand for Remus to shake. "Good job, not trusting us."
"Oh, but that's just it -- I do trust you, implicitly." Remus withdrew his hand, and wrapped it around Tonks' waist, pulling her snug against his side. "This really is a wonderful shop. Thanks for the tour. And Tonks' dress."
Tonks' goodbye was cut off by the crack of Disapparation.
A/N: As always, your feedback is much appreciated. This time, reviewers will get to administer Polyesterjuice Potion to Remus to dress him in their outfit of choice.
Be sure to stop by MetamorFicMoon at LiveJournal for your fill of Remus/Tonks Christmas fics!
