Firewhisky

She was beautiful, and he hadn't been expecting that. Rather, he had been expecting the same ten-year-old waif, with short brown hair (blue at the ends, which was all her mother had allowed) and too-long arms and legs who had seen him to her front door over a decade ago. Could she remember? He risked a glance – but no, she was looking at his coffee mug. She would have been too young, and it was an event of little consequence. In his mind's eye he pictured two half-moons and an open palm, whilst the woman before him now blushed at Moody's praise and momentarily morphed her button-nose into a Pinocchio-replica. He smiled without having to try.

An hour later, the Order members took a final swig of their coffee, pinned their cloaks to their backs and left, exchanging solemn but hopeful good byes with their fellows. All except Severus Snape, Tonks noticed, who left his coffee to stew in its mug, ignored everyone and had never removed his cloak in the first place. What a creep. Moody slapped her on the back, the impact of which, after nearly four years, still shook Tonks to the core. Then he too was gone.

She hadn't moved, and had no intention of doing so. The fire was warm on her back and Sirius had spiked her fresh cup of tea with Firewhisky, winking conspiratorially at her and not even bothering to pour himself a glass before taking a swig from the bottle. "Sirius," Remus warned, only to then laugh at the look of cherubic innocence Sirius feigned.

"How's your mum, Nymphadora?" Sirius asked pointedly, cackling when Tonks crossed her eyes and flared her nostrils. "Ha ha, always wondered what she meant by giving you that name."

"It's such a stupid name. Makes me sound like I wear togas and have fruit in my hair. Speaking of which: I'm starving," Tonks yawned, stretching her arms like a sleepy child and reaching into the cupboards in the hope of finding nutritional sustenance in just one of them. "Sirius, all I can find is Firewhisky and toilet paper. Is this for when your German girls come round?" She raised her eyebrows and grinned cheekily, hands on her hips. Sirius sniggered and ogled his empty alcohol bottle, "Not a bad idea…" Remus, who thought everything Tonks said was funny, chuckled and directed her towards his own set of cupboards.

It was like visiting the kitchen of a man twice Lupin's age. There was a bag of fresh green apples, cheap muesli in plastic tubs, four bars of chocolate and a pack of Rich Tea biscuits. I wonder… Tonks mused. She grabbed the biscuits and returned to the table, where Sirius was dozing, his friend having sensibly extricated the glass bottle from his clammy palms.

"You don't mind?" Tonks asked, indicating the biscuits.

"No, no, not at all!"

Tentatively, Tonks began nibbling on a biscuit, smiling slightly as Remus did the same. For a man so careworn and wise, it made him look remarkably young.

"Nymphadora –"

"Please don't call me that. It's such a silly name."

"On the contrary, I think it's beautiful." Remus instantly regretted what he deemed to be an inappropriate comment, and a lapse of judgement on his part. Tonks' hair flushed red as flames, which she put down to the Firewhisky. "Nevertheless, if you prefer "Tonks" I will, of course, oblige."

"Thanks."

"Actually, I-I wanted to ask…" Remus stared into the fire, swallowing a huge mouthful of tea. "…if you remember –"

"I remember you coming to my house that time." Tonks looked straight at him. "I mean, I know that you must have been there when I was younger, with Sirius, but… I remember when you came by yourself." That child-like vulnerability had resurfaced in him once more, and it alarmed her. She turned her head to look into the flames, conscious of his child-eyes on her face. It unsettled her; she had felt so safe with him. She wanted him to be old and wise again. "You were wearing this long cloak – it was far too big for you… Mum brought out the tea tray, which she only did if we had special guests over… Man, I hated that thing. She used to make me pour the tea, but she got so sick of having to charm the broken bits back together that she made me stop." She laughed, and he tried to do the same. His hands were clenched around his mug, his knuckles white and his throat dry.

"Why were you there, Remus?" Tonks dared to ask, hazarding the sapping of the relaxed atmosphere. "I know it's rude to ask, but I always wondered."

He cleared his throat again, choosing his words carefully. "After James and Lily died, after Sirius was sent to Azkaban, I went travelling. There were parties in every bed and breakfast and cheap pub I went to – for the Potter boy, the Boy Who Lived. But I couldn't take part in any of them. Who would I have to celebrate with? Everyone I loved was gone…"

"I couldn't get a job anywhere for long," he continued, laughing dryly. "My… condition, didn't earn me any favours. I went here and there and eventually found myself back in London. Your parents had been kind to me when Sirius used to babysit you, so your mother invited me to visit again. Like old times, she said…" He smiled, but it was bitter. Tonks felt the Firewhisky burning the back of her throat. "Your mother was very kind, Tonks. She offered to help me out financially – I couldn't accept, of course. I wasn't rich, by any means, but... I got by."

That wasn't what Tonks remembered. The Lupin she saw in her mind's eye was gaunt and pale, his clothes frayed and ill-fitting, his eyes dead. His head hung now – he was tired still. "It was too difficult for me to visit her after that. London reminded me of everything I had lost." He wouldn't talk anymore, she knew. So she would make him smile, instead.

"And then we shared the last biscuit!" They laughed, relieved.

"Yes, and very good it was too." Instinctively, Tonks reached over and placed a white hand on his wrist. He was warm; the material of his cardigan rough as matted fur. She gave him a friendly squeeze. Remus stared at her hand for a moment, as if it puzzled him; this effortless offer of friendship on her part. And then, tentatively, he squeezed her clown hand with his elegant one. They were like children making a pact in the playground. Friends? Friends.

"So." Tonks sprang from her seat and fished another bottle of Firewhisky from Sirius' cupboards. "Tell me about the first time Sirius got drunk. Go right from the beginning…"