"Do you have any plans for Christmas?"

"… do you want me to have plans for Christmas?"

Tonks narrowed her eyes at Remus from across their desks in the Auror office.

"Stop being coy. Sirius invited you to Grimmauld Place again, didn't he?"

The werewolf didn't respond, hiding behind his coffee cup. Tonks took this as confirmation.

"You actually going to make an appearance this year?"

He shrugged mutely, setting his mug down. Tonks glared daggers at the large Slytherin crest that adorned it. He'd chosen it himself, despite the fact he'd never been Sorted.

"You are not a Slytherin," she grumbled, crossing her arms petulantly. "You're a Ravenclaw."

This was an old argument by now. Ever since Moody had assigned them these desks six months ago, Tonks had complained about the Slytherin mug almost every day. Remus's lips curled into an indulgent smile.

"I'll have to join the queue of first-years next September," he replied, lounging back in his chair. "Solve this dilemma once and for all."

The mental image of Remus – pale, rangy and scarred – lined up with a load of terrified eleven-year-olds in the Great Hall was enough to make Tonks giggle.

"That I would like to see," she said, and his smile broadened into a grin. It was a slow afternoon in the Auror Office, three days before Christmas. A sudden snowstorm had brought London to a standstill, and even the criminals seemed to be in hibernation. Lupin and Tonks had the large office to themselves apart from Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was fast asleep on one of the couches in the break area. Several wreaths and sprigs of holly had found their way onto the walls, and Tonks had charmed the coffee machine to sing Santa Baby every time someone made a cuppa. Remus had already fallen prey to this forced caroling three times.

"Are you going to Black's place for Christmas?" he asked, cocking his head.

"Of course I am," she replied, the 'duh' silent but inferred. "All the cool kids will be there, you have to come."

He gave her a dubious look.

"Dora, I hardly count as a 'cool kid'."

"I beg to differ. Andre and Penny thought you were very cool on Sunday."

"That's because I bought us a bottle of absinthe."

"I really hated you for that on Monday."

"I hated myself for that on Monday."

"But seriously Remus," Tonks said, laughing, "they liked you. And not because of the absinthe. Once you get comfortable enough with people to stop acting like an arse, you can actually be quite charming."

"I'm so flattered," he said drily.

"You even dug out some Quidditch news to discuss with Andre, I thought he was going to die of shock. I assume you did some research?"

He nodded, grabbing his coffee again.

"I memorized the sports page of the Daily Prophet that morning," he said. "Figured it would come in handy."

"How resourceful of you," Tonks said, quirking her mouth teasingly at him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Honestly, I don't care if they like me or not," he stated. "But I know you do, so I put in the effort."

"I think you care more than you let on," she replied. "I think all that blustering and intimidation is just a defence mechanism."

He eyed her shrewdly.

"Maybe… Or maybe I genuinely dislike most of the people I interact with."

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"Same reason they dislike me. They've killed a lot of my friends. Hard to go to a bloke's house for Christmas when you know he's just inviting you out of guilt."

Tonks paused, examining the man across from her.

"What does Sirius have to feel guilty about?"

Remus looked like he regretted his previous statement.

"Nothing, don't worry about it. You going to finish that chocolate?"

Tonks silently handed him the remnants of her Honeyduke's chocolate bar, her brow still furrowed. He smiled in thanks, then tore into it with the intensity of the half-starved.

"We could get real food, you know," Tonks suggested, filing the odd comment about Sirius away for later.

"Sounds good to me," Remus said around a mouthful of chocolate. "Let me just finish that report Moody's been hounding me about. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

Tonks smirked at him as he began to rummage through the haphazard piles of paper that covered nearly every inch of his desk.

"You know, Remus," she said primly, "most people use these fancy things called files to keep their papers organized."

"Don't you start, too," he griped from behind one of the more precarious stacks of forms. "My system works perfectly."

"Hmm, yes," Tonks agreed, watching the stack waver, pause, then tip dramatically, spilling parchment all over the floor next to Remus's desk. "Perfectly."

"Bugger," he muttered under his breath. With a long-suffering sigh, he got to his knees and started to rifle through the papers, still searching for the report Moody needed. Biting back a grin, Tonks joined him on the floor.

"Is it the one about that Muggle rail crossing thing?" she asked, picking up a sheet of parchment with so many doodles on it that it was barely recognizable as a standard arrest form. She held it up, eyebrows raised. Remus glanced at it and grimaced.

"Scrimgeour's monthly progress meetings are exceedingly boring," he said, by way of explanation. "And yes, it's about Crossrail. They're excavating right above the Atrium's ceiling, but the Ministry engineers said it won't be a problem. Not sure what this damned report will accomplish, but Moody wants it anyway."

Tonks was only half listening to him. She was still examining his doodles.

"Remus, you're a really good artist."

He snorted incredulously.

"I'm serious!" she protested. "Look at the shading on that dragon! I can't even draw a good stick figure, this is unfair."

She glared at him. He blinked at her, nonplussed.

"You're one of those annoying people who's really good at everything, aren't you?" she asked. He let out a burst of surprised laughter.

"If that were true, I wouldn't be drowning in a sea of paperwork right now, searching for a report I should have finished two weeks ago."

"Fair point," Tonks conceded, then held up the doodled parchment again. "Can I keep this?"

He furrowed his brow at her, obviously bemused.

"If you want to," he replied, lips quirking.

"Thanks!" she said, smiling at him as she placed the form on her desk. "Right, let's find this thing, shall we?"

They dove back into the pile of papers, sifting through several months-worth of half-finished reports and old memos. There were more doodles – all of which Tonks saved – and even a few Hogwarts assignments.

"How did this get here?!" Tonks asked incredulously as she stared down at Hermione Granger's essay on Unforgivable Curses.

"Oh shit," Remus hissed, grabbing it out of her hands. "She's been asking me about that for weeks, I thought I'd lost it."

Tonks snorted, giving the werewolf an affectionate look.

"Maybe you should get one of those new Muggle devices – a pewter, or whatever it is."

"A computer?" he confirmed, chuckling. "Maybe. I'd have to fiddle with the power supply so it worked down here. But that's not a bad idea, actually. I hate all these papers."

"Really? I never would have guessed," Tonks remarked drily. "Oh, here it is!"

She held the report out to him and he gave her a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

"No worries."

But instead of taking the papers from her, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. Tonks let out a small squeak of surprise as she slid across the pile of parchment on the stone floor. Then Remus's lips were on hers, thanking her more thoroughly for her assistance. She smiled into his mouth, deepening the kiss. When they finally parted, she grinned up at him cheekily.

"Getting bolder, I see."

He smirked, then kissed her again. His calloused hand cupped her cheek and the back of her neck, pulling her even closer to him. She almost toppled forward but steadied herself with a hand on his chest. He felt warm and firm through his linen shirt, and she played with the top buttons, resisting the urge to undo them.

"… and this is our main office. As you can see, business is rather slow today…"

Moody's voice was like a bucket of ice water over their heads. Tonks tore herself away from Remus and they stared at each other, wide-eyed, as their boss continued to speak from the other side of the room.

"… but this place is usually a mad house. All of our operations are staged from here. Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Tonks clapped a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. All the blood left Remus's face, leaving him pale and trembling.

"Excuse me sir, but… is there no one on duty? That seems odd."

"Fucking hell, that fucking tour," Remus hissed. They had completely forgotten about Moody's warning earlier that day. He was showing the seventh-year Gryffindors around the Ministry as part of the new Careers Education class that McGonagall had initiated. Tonks thought it was a brilliant idea, but Moody's timing left much to be desired.

"You're right Mr. Potter," Moody grunted. "There should be someone here. Shacklebolt! Tonks! Lupin! Stop hiding!"

"And that, Remus, is why you should start putting these in alphabetical order," Tonks said loudly as she stood up and slammed a pile of parchment onto Lupin's desk. "Really, I don't know how you find anything in this mess."

The werewolf rose quickly to his feet behind her.

"I am perfectly capable of organizing my own desk, thank you very much," he griped, then feigned surprise as he saw the crowd of people near the doorway. "Ah, Moody. We were just wondering when you lot would get here."

Moody raised a suspicious eyebrow at them. Behind him, the eyes of a dozen teenagers widened with horror as they saw Lupin. Tonks bit the inside of her lip hard to keep from laughing, and beside her Remus let out an exasperated sigh.

"Where's Shacklebolt?" Mad-Eye growled. A thump and a muffled curse from the other side of the room answered his question.

"Here, sir!" Kingsley said, rocketing to his feet. His robes were rumpled and askew, and his eyes were bleary with sleep. Moody looked between the three of them, a deeply disapproving expression on his face.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared. The teenagers behind him all but leapt out of their skins. Even Tonks – who'd known it was coming – couldn't help but jump. Beside her, Remus just let out an involuntary snort of laughter.

"Something funny, Lupin?" Moody demanded, his magical eye whirling angrily. "You of all people should know the importance of remaining vigilant at all times. What if some criminal had walked in here while Shacklebolt was asleep and you two were faffing about on the floor?"

But Remus was incapable of providing a response. He was still sniggering into his fist, his eyes tightly closed. Tonks tried – and failed – to keep a straight face as his irrational mirth continued. Moody was swelling with offended rage, and the teenagers were gawping at their professor like they'd never seen him before.

"Sorry," Remus managed to gasp, waving the attention away. "Sorry, just… ignore me."

"Have you finished that Crossrail report yet?" Moody snapped.

"Nope," the werewolf replied unapologetically, still fighting back a grin. "But all the important bits are done. Want to see it?"

He held up the offending report, and Moody let out an exasperated sigh. The old man stumped forward and snatched the parchment from Remus's hand.

"Why do I continue to put up with you?" Moody grumbled. Remus shrugged.

"My sparkling personality?" he suggested drily. Moody snorted as he paged through the report.

"I need to bring this to the Minister," the old man grunted, his magical eye speeding across Lupin's untidy scrawl. He looked up and fixed the werewolf and the metamorphmagus with a stern glare.

"Look after this lot for a while, will you?" he asked, jerking his head back towards the crowd of teenagers. "Show them around the Justice Department and Beast Division, they've been everywhere else. I'll meet you in the Atrium at three o'clock."

Ignoring the stifled protests of most of the people in the room, Moody stumped away, Lupin's report tucked under his arm.

"No more napping on the job, Shacklebolt!" he barked over his shoulder. "Unless you want to find out what it's like to be a ferret!"

As the old man left the room, Tonks shot Kingsley a sympathetic glance. The tall Auror just rolled his eyes and shook his head before shuffling towards the coffee machine. Tonks then turned to see Remus fixing his students with an icy stare, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The teenagers looked – if possible – even more unhappy about the arrangement than he did.

"Tonks can show us around by herself, can't she?" Harry asked desperately. Tonks tried to hide a snigger behind her fist. Remus arched an unamused eyebrow at her, indicating that she had not been entirely successful.

"I don't see why not," he drawled, returning his gaze to the black-haired boy in front of him. The crowd of teenagers tried not to look relieved.

"But Remus," Tonks protested, "I've only been here a few years. Surely you would have more interesting insights into how the Ministry operates."

Remus narrowed his eyes at her. She blinked innocently back.

"Besides…" she continued, "Mad Eye's already annoyed with you. Best to follow his orders and come with us."

The werewolf's nostrils flared as he took a deep, exasperated breath. His amber gaze promised Tonks retribution in the near future. She shot him a cheeky smile.

"Excellent!" she proclaimed, clapping her hands together and turning back to the teenagers. Most of them were staring at her like she'd just killed a baby niffler.

"Justice Department first?" Tonks suggested. "Follow me!"

She set off towards the exit. The teenagers shuffled begrudgingly after her. As she pulled open the door, Tonks looked back to find Remus taking up the rear, his arms still crossed petulantly. He glared at her over the Gryffindors' heads, but she just grinned back at him before turning and leading the teenagers out of the office. As they left, the dulcet tones of Santa Baby burst forth from the coffee machine yet again.

"Turn on the milk steamer!" Remus shouted over his shoulder at Kingsley. "Otherwise it'll never shut up!"

The song stopped abruptly.

"Cheers, mate!" Kingsley called out as Remus closed the door behind him.

"Spoilsport," Tonks said from the front. "Took you ten whole minutes to figure that out, you can't give it to him for free."

"Kingsley has the patience of a Blast-Ended Skrewt," Remus replied drily. "I would rather he didn't turn our only source of caffeine into a smoking ruin."

"Fair point," Tonks conceded as she led the group toward the lifts. She stepped into one and the students filed in dutifully after her. It wasn't until Remus entered that Tonks realized why she was feeling uncharacteristically cramped. The teenagers were all crowded on her side, leaving almost half the lift for Remus. The werewolf pressed the button for the Justice Department then leaned nonchalantly against the wall, his hands in his pockets, looking utterly content with the arrangement.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Tonks exclaimed. "Are you Gryffindors or aren't you? He's not going to bite."

Remus raised an eyebrow at her.

"You sure about that?"

She glared at him. With a huff, she pushed her way out of the crowd of teenagers and crossed to his side of the lift. She reached out and put a deliberate hand on his upper arm.

"See?" she said pointedly to the teenagers. "I'm still alive."

"For now," Remus said, stonefaced. Tonks let out an exasperated sigh, but the lift doors opened again before she could say anything else. The polished floors and high marble pillars of the Justice Department greeted them, and the teenagers' eyes widened as they stepped out into the opulent front hall. Witches and wizards in black robes and white wigs bustled to and fro, carrying massive books and looking terribly important.

"It's beautiful," Hermione Granger breathed, her brown eyes alight with wonder.

"There are seven courtrooms off this main hall," Tonks explained, stepping into her role as tour guide. "On this side," she gestured to her right, "we have the courts for Muggle Relations, Violent Crimes, and Business, and on this side," she gestured to the left, "are the courts for International Crimes, Magical Accidents, and Family Law. Anything that can't be settled in the lower courts goes to the Wizengamot, up at the top."

They all looked to the front of the Main Hall, where a pair of grandiose wooden doors marked the entrance to Great Britain's Wizarding High Court.

"How do you get elected to the Wizengamot?" Hermione asked Tonks eagerly.

"You bribe the Chief Warlock and sleep with the Minister," Remus answered from one of the marble pillars. He was leaning against it, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Remus…" Tonks growled. He shrugged.

"What? I'm just telling them the truth. Not my fault our political system is fucked."

Ignoring him, Tonks turned back to Hermione, who was looking between Lupin and Tonks with a concerned expression on her face.

"My friend Penny is an intern for a member of the Wizengamot," Tonks explained. "She's learning how the system works and preparing her application for law school. That takes another three years, then she'll be eligible for a position at one of the lower courts. You can work your way up from there."

Remus snorted derisively and Tonks shot him a warning glance before turning back to the students.

"Any other questions?"

Hermione and several of the other Gryffindors proceeded to bombard Tonks with questions, only some of which she could answer. Remus proved to be of absolutely no help, as he wandered off in the direction of the Family Law court. Ten minutes passed, and the students began to mill about the grandiose hall on their own, examining the moving statues and talking portraits that memorialized several millennia of magical law.

Another five minutes on and Tonks was still discussing law school with Hermione and Dean Thomas when a familiar raised voice echoed down the hall.

"God-fucking-dammit, Titus, what more do they want?!"

Tonks's voice faltered.

"Is that Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked, confused. Tonks didn't respond. She turned and craned her neck, but her view of the recalcitrant werewolf was obscured by one of the hall's many columns.

"Stay here," she told Hermione and Dean over her shoulder, then walked briskly in the direction from which Remus's voice had come. He'd sounded angrier than normal, which was saying something. She just hoped she'd get to him in time to prevent bloodshed.

She rounded the row of columns and caught sight of the ex-Reaper outside the Family Law court. He was having what looked like a very heated discussion with an old wizard in lawyer's garb. Remus's hands were on his hips, and he was putting his superior height to good use, looming over the old man with fire in his amber eyes.

"… times do I have to do this before they'll listen?" Remus was demanding as she approached. "Or will they just keep adding boxes for me to tick until I die of old age?"

"Mr. Lupin, I know you're upset – "

"Upset doesn't even begin to describe it, Titus," the werewolf snarled. "They deserve an education, same as anyone."

"I agree with you – "

"No, you don't," Remus spat derisively. "You're just saying that so I'll go away and try again next year. Like you do every year."

"Something wrong, gentlemen?"

Tonks had finally arrived. The old wizard looked beyond relieved to see someone in Auror robes.

"This man is harassing me," he said, pointing a shaking finger at the werewolf towering over him.

"Harassing?!" Remus barked, letting out a mirthless laugh. "I'll show you harassing – "

"Remus!" Tonks snapped, grabbing his forearm. "Come on. You're not accomplishing anything here."

He tried to pull out of her grip, but she held on fiercely. He turned burning eyes on her and she glared back at him, her jaw clenched.

"Throwing a tantrum is not going to help your cause, whatever it is," she hissed at him.

"Yeah, well, nothing I do seems to help," he snarled back, "so I might as well get the satisfaction of breaking his nose."

But by the time he turned back to the old man, he was gone. Tonks didn't blame him. Remus was truly frightening when he was angry.

"Snivelling coward!" Remus shouted at the man's back as he disappeared into one of the courtrooms. Tonks suppressed a sigh.

"Care to tell me what that was all about?" she asked testily. Remus didn't respond. He just gave her a cold glare before brushing past her and making for the lifts.

"… and now you're giving me the silent treatment. Brilliant. How mature."

He turned on her with a snarl on his lips.

"I don't need your sarcasm, Tonks!"

"And I don't need your mood swings!" she retorted. "I don't know what your problem is, but terrorizing a little old man isn't going to solve it! Neither is biting my head off!"

They glared at each other for several moments, both breathing heavily. Finally, Tonks let out an exasperated sigh.

"Let's just get out of here, alright? I think we've overstayed our welcome."

A quick glance around proved her point. Remus's shouting had attracted quite a few curious onlookers. Tonks was surprised to see that the Gryffindors had already gathered themselves into a group and were standing nearby, watching the heated argument with interest.

"Right, you lot," she said with feigned enthusiasm, turning away from Remus. "Shall we go to Beast Division?"

"Joy of joys…" Remus muttered sarcastically behind her. Tonks studiously ignored him, leading the teenagers back to the lifts. It took several minutes for one to arrive, and they all stood in silence, waiting. Tonks could have cut the tension with a knife.

"Is there a problem, Potter?" Remus suddenly snapped. Tonks glanced over to see Harry quickly averting his gaze from the ex-Reaper's face.

"Sorry, sir."

Remus grunted, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the lift doors in front of him as though their refusal to open was a personal affront. Harry glanced furtively at his professor once, twice, then finally took the plunge and voiced the question he'd clearly been dying to ask.

"Are you really petitioning the Wizengamot to let werewolf children attend Hogwarts?"

Remus visibly stiffened, the muscles in his jaw tightening. He slowly turned his head to fix the black-haired boy with an icy glare.

"It's not polite to eavesdrop, Potter," he hissed. Tonks watched Harry's throat bob as he gathered the courage to respond in the face of such cold wrath.

"I – I know sir, I'm sorry, but… are you?"

The lift door opened and Remus stalked inside, turning to brace himself against the brass railing in the back corner. They filed in after him, and Tonks pressed the button for Beast Division.

"Harry asked you a question, Remus," she said, giving him a pointed look from across the lift. "And to be honest, I want to know the answer just as much as he does."

He glared at her, breathing heavily through flared nostrils. Then he turned his gaze to Harry.

"No, I'm not," he snapped. "I would like to. But you'll be happy to know that they've rejected my proposal."

Harry furrowed his brow.

"… why would I be happy about that?"

The question clearly threw Remus off. He blinked at the boy.

"Because he thinks we're against the idea," Tonks answered for him. Suddenly, everything made sense. Her anger towards the man evaporated, and she opened her mouth to apologize.

"Well, aren't we?"

Ron Weasley's tone bordered on disgusted, and Tonks' heart sank. The red-haired boy was looking at her incredulously.

"They can't go to Hogwarts!" he protested. "It's bad enough having him there – " he gestured to Lupin, " – but werewolf children? I rather like being able to learn without fearing for my life, thank you very much."

"They would have Wolfsbane, Ron," Tonks retorted. "It's not like they'd be running around the corridors, biting people."

"No, they'd just have superhuman strength and speed, and tempers as short as a Doxie's fingernail," Ron spat. "Why do they need to go to school anyway? The Ministry gives them Wolfsbane and a fixed income, all they have to do is stay out of trouble. I'd say that's a pretty good deal after what they did during the War."

"After what we did?!" Remus suddenly exploded, his face pale and livid as he glared at Ron. "After what we did? Oh, that's rich coming from a little purebred toerag like you. You have any idea how differently the War would have gone if werewolves weren't treated like the shit you scrape off your boot? If we'd been educated, if we hadn't been beaten and abused at every turn, there wouldn't have been a war! The Dark Lord wouldn't have had any soldiers!"

"Oh come off it," Ron snorted derisively. "If you'd gone to Hogwarts, you'd have been sorted into Slytherin with all the other Death Eaters, and nothing would have changed."

"Shut up, Ron," Hermione snapped, glaring at him. The red-haired boy gaped at her in shock but she ignored him, turning instead to look at Lupin.

"Why did they reject your petition?" she asked earnestly. "Surely they can see the logic in your argument."

Remus was once again floored. He blinked incredulously at the girl. He clearly hadn't expected anyone to agree with him. But before he could answer, the lift doors opened at Beast Division, and Tonks turned to find herself face to face with a hulking man from the Werewolf Capture Unit.

The atmosphere in the small space instantly turned frigid. The man's face darkened as he looked down at Tonks, and when his grey eyes found Remus on the other side of the lift his lips curled into a snarl.

"You."

"Do I know you?" Remus asked, his voice cold enough to burn.

"You broke my arm on the Knight Bus last month, you bastard!" the man shouted, trying to push his way towards the werewolf. Tonks stood firmly in his way.

"Ah, so you're the one who tried to shoot Tonks here."

"I was just doing my job, Reaper."

"No you weren't, you were covering Umbridge's arse. You're lucky you're not in Azkaban with her."

It sounded like Remus had pushed past his students to stand right behind Tonks. She stood her ground, determined to keep this from devolving into violence.

"I think you should get the next lift, mate," she growled up at the man. He shot her a derisive glance.

"She follow you everywhere, then?" he asked Remus, jerking his head at her. "Defending your honor, sucking your cock?"

Remus was fast, but predictable. Before he could force his way past Tonks, she had pressed the button for the Atrium and turned to wrap her arms around his waist. The doors closed in the other man's face, and the lift started its calm ascent to the Atrium.

"Dora!" Remus protested, his eyes burning with rage. "Stop the fucking lift!"

"He's provoking you!" she replied, struggling to hold him away from the buttons that would bring them back to Beast Division. "He wants you to attack him so he can arrest you."

"I know that," the werewolf snarled. "I don't care, I'm going to break his other arm! Nobody gets to say shit like that to you!"

Despite her current predicament, Tonks couldn't help but smile.

"Remus, as touched as I am, your protection is unnecessary. Don't worry, our WCU friend will find a little gift in his desk come morning."

The werewolf's struggles finally began to subside. He looked down at her, one hand coming to rest on her hip.

"It's going to take a bit more than a dungbomb to get even with that slimeball," he growled. Tonks considered his statement for a moment, bringing a thumb and forefinger up to stroke her chin thoughtfully.

"Dungbomb and a Portable Swamp?"

Remus cocked his head, then nodded curtly.

"That's acceptable."

Tonks gave him a broad smile, then looked around at the confused Gryffindors.

"Oh dear," she said, chuckling as she took a step away from Remus. "I'm afraid we've given your students a rather melodramatic impression of the Ministry."

Remus shrugged, removing his hands from her hips and sticking them in his pockets.

"It's always like this for me. I shouldn't have let you bamboozle me into coming."

"You just wanted to dance to Santa Baby with Kings," Tonks teased, smirking up at him. He quirked his eyebrows.

"Maybe."

The lift doors opened again behind Tonks, and they spilled out into the Atrium. The bright lights, vaulted ceiling, and calming sound of the central fountain was like a breath of fresh air after the tense atmosphere of the last few minutes.

"As you've probably guessed," Tonks called out to her teenage charges as they gathered around her, "we're skipping Beast Division. I hope nobody's too heartbroken about that. If you are, well… too bad."

She glanced at the huge clock hanging on the wall above them.

"It's twenty to three now, why don't you explore the Atrium a bit and meet us at the central fountain in fifteen minutes?"

With murmured acknowledgements, the teenagers drifted off in smaller groups, still looking rather bemused by what they had just witnessed. Finally alone, Tonks turned to Remus.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, eyes fixed on his shoes. She furrowed her brow.

"For what?"

He looked up at her in confusion.

"For everything that just happened."

She cocked her head at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"While I admit that your reactions were a bit… volatile…"

He grimaced at this, but she continued.

"… none of what just happened was your fault. I didn't realize how exhausting it must be to… well, be you around here."

He didn't respond, his gaze fixed once again on the ground. She examined him for a long moment.

"How many times have they rejected your petition?" she finally asked. His throat bobbed, but he didn't look up.

"… this is the sixth. I've applied every year since I started teaching."

"Bloody hell. And they've never even considered it?"

He shook his head morosely.

"First time it was because I hadn't filled in one of the boxes on the form correctly. Second time it was because I'd written in blue ink, instead of black. I forget all the other reasons, but…"

He drew in a deep breath, then shook his head.

"Dumbledore has written a letter expressing his support the last three times," he continued, sounding exhausted. "And now that Umbridge is out of the picture, I really thought they would give it a chance. Guess I was wrong."

Tonks grimaced unhappily. She stepped forward and wrapped a hand around his forearm.

"Come on. Let's get some food in you. Then we can figure out a way to make them listen."

He glanced up at her, looking unconvinced. But he allowed her to steer him in the direction of the Atrium café.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing," she said as they walked side by side. "I should have let you break that lawyer's nose."

He snorted.

"No, you were right. It would have just made things worse. Hard to remember that in the moment, though."

They joined the queue for the café behind a medi-witch in blue scrubs.

"Sounds like you have some support from your students," Tonks pointed out.

"Yes, that was… surprising."

Tonks smirked at him.

"Remus, not all humans are bigoted arseholes."

"I know that, I just…"

"Don't trust anyone?"

He shot her an odd look.

"You sound like Bryony."

"Oh?"

"She says I have trust issues."

"You don't need to be a therapist to see that."

"She also says I have PTSD and an irrational guilt complex that makes me lash out with self-destructive violence."

"Wow. All that from just two sessions? I like this woman."

Remus sighed deeply and ran a weary hand down his face.

"I fucking hate those sessions. They're exhausting. She'd be a great spy, she picks up on things I've been able to hide my whole life."

"Dumbledore wouldn't have recommended her if she weren't good. D'you think it's helping?"

He shrugged.

"I dunno. Depends on your definition of 'helping', I guess."

Tonks reached over and took his hand. He looked down at her in surprise. She smiled at him.

"You're a good man, Remus Lupin."

He let out an awkward chuckle and tightened his grip on her.

"Not sure what I did to deserve that, but… thanks."

The medi-witch in front of them turned around, coffee in hand, and brushed past them, shooting a fleeting glance at Remus. Instead of the guarded hatred Tonks had grown used to seeing directed at the ex-Reaper, the woman's eyes held something almost like admiration. Remus almost certainly hadn't seen it – he seemed to make a point of avoiding eye contact with strangers – but Tonks couldn't help but smile as they stepped up to the counter and placed their orders.

Sandwiches in hand, they made their way towards the central fountain. They sat down on its stone edge, and for several minutes they ate in companionable silence. Tonks hadn't realized just how hungry she was. She was more than halfway through her roast beef and horseradish sandwich when she remembered something vitally important.

"Shit, I've been meaning to ask you… what d'you want for Christmas?"

Remus shot her a confused look.

"Sorry?"

"For Christmas," she repeated. "What do you want?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. No words came out. Tonks stared at him incredulously.

"You do know what a Christmas present is, right?"

"… 'course I know what a Christmas present is. You don't need to give me one, though."

"Yes, I do," Tonks insisted. "You're my…"

She faltered, struggling to come up with a word to describe what Remus was to her. He just stared at her unhelpfully.

"… my man friend," she finally finished, wincing even as the words came out of her mouth. Remus stared blankly at her for a moment longer. Then…

"… your man friend?"

He was starting to chuckle. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well, what else am I supposed to call you?"

But he wasn't listening. He was now full on laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners just the way she liked them. She couldn't help but smile as the sound of his mirth echoed through the crowded Atrium. As he calmed down again, she stared at him expectantly.

"Much as I enjoy making you laugh, that is not an answer. What d'you want for Christmas?"

His grin softened into an uncharacteristically self-conscious smile, and he contemplated her for a long moment.

"You really want to know?"

"Yes."

He hesitated.

"You," he said. "I want you."

If they hadn't been eating sandwiches in a loud room full of strangers, Tonks might have jumped him right then and there. As it was, it took her several seconds before she could properly breathe again.

"… oh," she finally replied, hoping that Remus couldn't hear her heart hammering in her chest. "Well… that can be arranged."

She ruined the moment by taking a giant bite of her sandwich. Remus grinned at her, his eyes lit with a mixture of desire and wicked humor. He was about to say something when his expression faltered and his eyes closed. Tonks furrowed her brow.

"Remus?"

"Shhh…"

He was holding a finger to his lips, his head cocked. For half a minute she simply sat there, trying not to breathe too loudly. Finally, he opened his eyes.

"Sorry. Thought I heard something."

It was his turn to take a giant bite of his sandwich. Tonks pursed her lips.

"That's a rather disconcerting thing to say," she informed him. "What did you hear?"

He shook his head, still chewing.

"I think it was just the Muggle machinery working up there," he said once he'd swallowed, gesturing dismissively at the ceiling.

"How close are they to the top of the Atrium?"

"About ten metres. Sounded a bit dodgy to me, but apparently the man who designed this place was some sort of genius. Engineers said they could come within a metre of the ceiling's apex and it wouldn't do any damage."

"That does sound dodgy."

Remus shrugged, then fixed Tonks with a piercing look.

"What do you want for Christmas?"

She contemplated the question for a moment before reaching a conclusion.

"I want you to come to Grimmauld Place."

"Aw, Dora – "

"Either that, or I want you to explain why you're so against the idea."

He grimaced, turning away from her to glare down at the remnants of his sandwich.

"Fine, I'll come. Just… promise you won't leave me alone with Sirius?"

"Why?"

"He has a bad habit of bringing up things I'd prefer to forget."

"Well, now I'm just curious."

"Dora."

There was a different tone to Remus's voice – one she had never heard. He turned to fix her with earnest, almost pleading eyes.

"Please," he said softly, urgently. "Don't ask me about this. Ask me anything else – anything you want to know, and I'll tell you. Just… not this."

Tonks stared at him, now deeply concerned. Whatever nerve she'd managed to poke, it was a sensitive one.

"Okay," she agreed, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. He tried to smile back, but it ended up looking rather painful.

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, finishing their lunch. When they were done, Tonks crumpled up the newspaper in which the café had wrapped her sandwich and tossed it at the nearest rubbish bin. It fell pitifully short. Remus snorted, and she arched an eyebrow at him.

"I'd like to see you do better, Hotshot."

He smirked at her, rising to the challenge. He crumpled up his newspaper and hurled it into the air. Tonks burst out laughing.

"That's a terrible throw!"

But no sooner had the words left her lips than the newspaper ball changed direction in mid-air, zooming into the bin with a satisfying thwack. She turned to gape at Remus.

"But… your wand is in your pocket!"

He arched a self-satisfied eyebrow at her.

"Your point being?"

He flicked a finger, and her own newspaper ball – rolling despondently on the floor – joined his in the rubbish bin. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You are one of those annoying people who's really good at everything," she said, confirming her own theory from earlier. "You've that coin trick too, I can't even stir my tea with wandless magic!"

He shrugged.

"It's just practice. I didn't get a wand until I was twelve. Anyone who couldn't control magic without one was an easy target in the packs. Believe me, you'd have figured it out pretty fast."

She shuddered.

"I'm glad I didn't have to."

"Me too."

Brown eyes met amber. With a sigh, she scooted closer and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Will you be wanting gift wrap?"

"… pardon?"

"On your present."

She could almost hear the cogs turning in his head. Then –

"Oh. Oh. Erm…"

A slow smile began to form on her lips. She propped her chin up on his shoulder so she had a close up look as his face turned bright red. She pressed a lingering kiss to his burning cheek.

"Think about it," she whispered in his ear. When she pulled back, the look in his eyes told her that he would indeed be thinking about it. All the time.

Someone cleared their throat loudly. Tonks and Remus blinked, then looked up to see the Gryffindors standing awkwardly in front of them. Their expressions ranged from utterly disgusted to completely giddy. Ron Weasley's face was twisted in a horrified grimace, while Hermione and Lavender were covering their shocked grins with their hands, their eyes alight with glee.

"Excellent, you're right on time!" Tonks said matter-of-factly, leaping to her feet and brushing dust off her jeans. "Moody should be along any second – "

"Are you dating him?"

Ron's voice was disbelieving, accusatory. Tonks narrowed her eyes at the red-haired boy.

"Yes, I am. Not that it's any of your business."

She glanced back to find that Remus had risen to his feet as well. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his face was still red, and he was avoiding his students' eyes like they were a crowd of Basilisks. Tonks suppressed a sigh.

"But Tonks – "

"Mr. Weasley, I really don't care about your opinion," she snarled, turning to pin Ron with an angry glare. "I've already had to deal with one bigoted Weasley this week, do me a favor and keep your mouth shut."

Ron's mouth closed with a snap. But his burning blue eyes told Tonks everything that he wasn't saying.

"Now," Tonks said crisply, turning to the rest of the teenagers, "is everyone here?"

She did a quick head count, confirming that there were, indeed, twelve teenagers in front of her.

"Right, well, I hope you lot enjoyed your tour of the Ministry," Tonks said. "I know we enjoyed showing you around… "

She shot a teasing look over her shoulder at Remus. But he wasn't listening to her. He was staring up at the ceiling, his head cocked and his brow furrowed.

"… Remus?" she asked tentatively. She knew that look. Something was wrong.

"We need to get out of here," he said shortly, still staring at the ceiling.

"… I take it the engineers were wrong."

"Certainly sounds like it."

"Shit. We have to clear the room."

"I can do that."

He turned and leapt up on the edge of the fountain. Pulling his wand out of his pocket, he thrust it into the air.

"Morsmordre!" he shouted, his suddenly menacing voice echoing through the crowded hall. Everyone cried out as a sickening green light burst from the end of his wand. It circled the Atrium like a hurricane before congealing into the all-too-familiar shape of a skull. The Dark Mark.

Screams sounded from all directions. Witches and wizards scattered in a panic, making for the nearest exits. Remus jumped down from the fountain, looking oddly pleased with himself.

"Works every time," he quipped, then saw the look on Tonks's face. "What?"

She sighed, shaking her head.

"You really don't do yourself any favours."

He shrugged, utterly unrepentant.

"Shall we?" he said, gesturing to the emergency stairs. Someone had already kicked in the normally locked door, and witches and wizards were now streaming down the stairs to the lower levels of the Ministry.

A horrible crunching noise sounded from above them, and they looked up en masse. A dark, jagged line had appeared in the arching tiles of the Atrium ceiling. Tonks stared at it incredulously. It couldn't be that far gone already, could it?

"Built by a genius, eh?" she quipped, turning to Remus. He grimaced.

"I'm gonna kill those engineers," he hissed. "Stairs, now!"

They began to run, just as another loud crunch echoed through the Atrium. Tonks glanced up to see that the crack had sprouted another ten metres through the tiles.

"Don't look up, just keep going!" Remus shouted from behind her.

A deafening crack and an odd whistling noise, and the ground behind them suddenly exploded, sending them flying forward in a cloud of dust and rubble. Tonks hit the floor hard and tumbled for several metres, finally coming to a rest against someone else's body. She felt warm liquid trickling down her neck, and for one horrible instant she couldn't tell which way was up.

"Dora! Dora!"

Remus's frantic voice jerked her back into action. She staggered to her feet, hauling Neville Longbottom up with her. A quick glance behind them revealed a boulder the size of a mountain troll lodged in the floor. Bits of tile and concrete had shattered on impact, sending shrapnel flying in all directions. Mere feet from where it had landed, Remus was dragging Ron to his feet by his shirt collar. The boy was bleeding heavily from a nasty cut on his temple. Cursing loudly, Tonks turned back to her other teenage charges.

"Come on, you lot!" she cried, pushing Neville toward the stairs. They sprinted the remaining distance and Tonks felt a surge of relief as the first few students disappeared down the steps. She shoved Neville after them, only to find herself face to face with Harry and Hermione.

"Go!" she cried, gesticulating furiously at the stairs.

"But Ron!"

Tonks looked back. Sure enough, Ron and Remus had fallen behind. It looked like shrapnel from the fallen boulder had also hit the red-haired boy's leg, and he was struggling to walk. Remus had his wand out, and Tonks recognized the familiar swish and flick of a levitating charm. The boy had just left the ground when another chunk of concrete shattered on the ground several metres from the pair. Remus's body twisted and he fell hard, Ron coming back down to earth beside him.

Tonks didn't give herself time to think. She threw herself back into the fray, leaping over the remnants of what used to be a beautifully tiled floor. She skidded to a halt at Remus's side, grabbing his arm and hauling him to his feet. He looked shaken, but mostly unhurt.

"Help!"

A desperate voice sounded dimly over the thunderous booms of concrete and boulders hitting the Atrium floor all around them. The world was getting darker, a dusty haze descending upon the chaotic scene. But Tonks and Remus could just make out a frantically waving hand near the lifts. They turned to look at each other with wide eyes.

"You take Ron," they both said simultaneously.

"No, you take him," Remus insisted.

"Your wand just broke, idiot!" Tonks exclaimed, pointing down at the shattered bit of wood in the werewolf's hand. He held it up, blinking at it incredulously.

"You take Ron, I'll get them!" she cried, gesturing toward the cries for help.

"Oh for goodness sake, we'll take him!"

A familiar bossy voice ended their debate. Harry and Hermione were clearly unimpressed by the Aurors' rescue efforts. The bushy-haired girl was already levitating Ron in the direction of the stairs.

"Go!" she cried over her shoulder. "We'll be fine!"

Tonks and Remus didn't hesitate. They sprinted in the direction of the lifts.

"Over here!"

The man's voice was exhausted and terrified. As the dust cleared and they saw him for the first time, Tonks could understand why. He was sitting on the ground, a young woman's head in his lap. A gigantic boulder was embedded in the floor next to them, pinning the woman's leg ruthlessly to the floor.

"Fuck," Tonks exclaimed.

"I can't leave her," the man said, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. "She'll die."

A shock ran through Tonks as she recognized him as the WCU officer who had taunted them in the lift. He looked entirely different when his face wasn't twisted into an unpleasant leer. He was probably in his mid-forties, black hair greying at the temples. His left hand – resting on the unconscious woman's shoulder – bore a wedding ring.

Remus made no indication that he recognised the man at all. He simply crouched down, examining the woman's pinned leg with a clinical eye.

"We need to amputate," he said grimly.

"No!" the officer screamed, his eyes wide and desperate. "No, can't we…"

"What?" Remus demanded. "If you have other suggestions, I'm all ears."

The man mouthed wordlessly at the werewolf, his breath rapid and shallow.

"Right," Lupin grunted. "Tonks, your wand please."

Tonks handed it to him instantly.

"Do you know what you're doing?" she asked, wincing as she looked at the mangled remains of the woman's leg. There was an awful lot of blood down there, but not as much as she might have expected. Perhaps the weight of the boulder was controlling the bleeding. Remus nodded shortly.

"'Course I do," he grunted, holding the wand like a scalpel over the woman's thigh. "Just be glad she's unconscious."

The sound of a limb being amputated was entirely unpleasant. Tonks struggled not to be sick as Remus's spell severed muscle, artery, and bone. The sickening smell of burnt flesh filled the air and she looked down to see that he was cauterizing the wound as he was creating it. She lost her battle with nausea, turning around and emptying her stomach on the floor. As she wiped her mouth, she glanced over to see that the WCU officer wasn't faring much better. His eyes were fixed on what Remus was doing, his eyes wide and his face deathly pale.

"What's your name?" she asked, trying to distract both him and herself. He blinked, then looked at her.

"Damian," he said gruffly. "Sorry I was a prat to you earlier."

She shrugged.

"'S'okay, we were planning to get you back with a dungbomb in your desk."

He let out a hysterical chuckle.

"Fair enough."

Tonks jerked her head at the unconscious woman in his lap.

"She your wife?"

He shook his head numbly.

"No. I don't know who she is. I just… couldn't leave her."

Tonks blinked at him. Not for the first time, she found herself marveling at the complexities of human nature.

"That was good of you, Damian. She'll be okay, I promise."

Remus let out a triumphant yell. The horrible procedure was done. He shoved Tonks's wand back into her hand.

"Come on!" he cried, pulling the unconscious woman into his arms and staggering to his feet. Tonks grabbed Damian by the arm and hauled him up as well. They were about to head back to the stairs when an almighty groan sounded from above. They looked up, but most of the lights were out and thick dust was swirling through the green remnants of the Dark Mark. They couldn't see what was coming, but a deafening series of cracks and the screech of rending metal told them everything they needed to know.

"Lifts!" Remus screamed. Tonks turned and blasted the lift doors off with her wand.

"Jump!" she cried, pushing Damian into the open shaft and leaping in after him. They plummeted headlong into blackness and she pointed her wand between her feet, casting a cushion charm on the top of the lift below them. She landed in a heap next to Damian and only just managed to roll out of the way before Remus crashed down beside her, the unconscious woman still in his arms.

An ominous rumble sounded from above. Dust and bits of concrete began to rain down on them. Tonks swore loudly and began to cut a hole in the top of the lift. She couldn't just blast her way in, or they may end up plummeting to their deaths. But the crash of boulders falling above told her that time was running out.

Remus let out a pained grunt from beside her. Damian let out a horrified gasp. But she kept working. Finally, she had a hole big enough for them to fit through.

"Come on!" she cried, grabbing Damian's shirtsleeve. But he wasn't looking at her. He was looking straight up. She followed his gaze and gasped.

The lift shaft above them was full of stone and concrete. It was hovering there, as if waiting for them to finish their business. Tonks turned wide eyes to Remus. He was lying on his back, his hands in the air, his jaw clenched tightly. He was using wandless magic to keep them alive.

"Damian…" Tonks said, her eyes still fixed on Remus. "Get the girl out of here."

The officer followed her orders silently and efficiently. He dragged the woman through the hole Tonks had made, carrying her out of the lift and into the hallway beyond. Then he came back.

"Let's go, you two," he said, his voice shaking. Tonks rested a hand on Remus's leg, forcing herself to remain calm.

"Remus?" she cajoled. "Come on."

"… go…" the werewolf hissed through clenched teeth. McGonagall's lessons on wandless magic were ringing in Tonks's head, the familiar Scottish brogue providing a bizarre sort of comfort.

… wands were invented for a reason. Without them we can wield more power, but we also have less control. If you're not careful, you'll exhaust yourself. Use too much, and you'll die quite horribly…

"Remus, I'm not leaving you here," Tonks said steadily.

"… can't… hold it…"

Tonks raised her wand and cast the strongest shield charm she could think of, but she knew it wouldn't last a second under the weight of half the Atrium's ceiling.

"You're just going to have to hold it until we both get out of here," she growled, "because I'm not leaving you."

A stream of blood suddenly gushed from Remus's nose. He choked, and the stones above them shifted.

"… Dora, please – "

But she was done arguing the point. She grabbed his shirt and heaved him towards the hole. The debris above them groaned and lowered several feet, but it held. Remus's eyes were now closed tightly, his face twisted with pain. Tonks jumped down into the lift next to Damian. The large man looked at her grimly.

"You pull him through that hole and he'll lose concentration," he said. "You'll have half a second. If that."

"I'll just have to get it right, then," Tonks said, her jaw set with determination. Damian looked her up and down, clearly coming to some sort of decision.

For such a large man, he moved remarkably quickly. He grabbed her around the waist and threw her bodily out of the lift. Then he reached up and pulled Remus through the hole. Stone shifted against the lift shaft with a horrible scraping noise and Damian heaved the werewolf into the hallway, leaping out himself just as the rubble carried the small metal box out of sight in a blinding cloud of dust and debris.

A strange sort of silence descended upon them. The hiss of dust settling was oddly peaceful. Then Tonks let out a hacking cough.

"Damian? Remus? You alive?"

Two groans answered her.

"… sorta wish I wasn't…" the werewolf mumbled. Tonks snorted, fumbling in the dusty gloom for her wand.

"Lumos."

The light showed Damian staggering to his feet, shaking dust out of his hair. The unconscious woman was lying next to Tonks, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Remus was crumpled against the wall opposite the lift doors, clearly in a considerable amount of pain.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" he was mumbling under his breath. Tonks stumbled over to him, falling to her knees at his side.

"What can I do?"

The werewolf let out a breathless chuckle through red teeth. The entire bottom half of his face was caked with blood from his nose, but it looked like the bleeding had stopped.

"Got any whiskey?" he asked. Tonks chuckled.

"I'm all out, sorry mate."

"Pity."

She reached a comforting hand forward but he flinched away, shaking his head.

"Don't… don't touch me. Might infect you."

"You're not going to die on me, are you?"

"Eventually, yes. Don't think it'll be today, though."

Tonks's shoulders sank with relief. Suddenly her hands were trembling.

"Thank fucking Merlin," she breathed. "Gods, can we never do something like that ever again?"

He let out a rather hysterical giggle.

"Oh I don't know," he said sarcastically, pushing himself to a sitting position with a painful wince. "That was rather exciting."

"In a 'we're actually about to die' sort of way."

"Really gets the blood flowing, doesn't it?"

"I hate to interrupt," Damian said drily, "but this woman needs medical attention."

They glanced over to see him crouching beside the unconscious woman. Now that the threat of death wasn't – quite literally – hanging over their heads, Tonks could spare a moment to note the woman's fashionable clothing and long brown hair. She looked vaguely familiar, but the copious amount of blood staining what remained of her jeans distracted Tonks from any attempt at putting a name to the pretty face.

"We have medical supplies in the Auror office," she informed Damian. A glance over her shoulder at the sign next to the lifts revealed that they were one floor up.

"Let's hope the stairs are clear," she said, turning back to Remus. "You okay to walk?"

He scoffed weakly.

"Please. I eat shit like this for breakfast."

"Mmm," Tonks hummed skeptically. "I prefer beans on toast."

"You're a savage. Beans are the work of the devil."

Tonks snorted. Remus had managed to get to his feet, shooing away her offers to help. He was now leaning heavily against the wall with his eyes shut, breathing deeply through his nose. The stone wall behind him was smeared with blood, but Tonks knew he would shy away from any attempt to examine his injuries.

"You alright, mate?" Damian asked, examining the werewolf uncertainly.

"Not really," Remus mumbled. "But I'm better than I would be if it weren't for you. I owe you one."

"You don't owe me anything," Damian grunted. "I just doubted your girlfriend's ability to throw you around as easily as I can. I wasn't too keen on watching you both get crushed by several tons of rock."

"I wasn't too keen on being crushed, to be honest," Tonks replied, shooting the large man a crooked smile. "What do you think Remus? Shall we forego the dungbomb in his desk?"

"Mmm, probably," Remus said absently, looking like he was on the verge of falling asleep against the wall. "Portable Swamp is still fair game though…"

Damian snorted, gathering the unconscious woman into his arms and standing up.

"Come on," he growled at them. "You can plot your revenge in the Auror office."

It took longer than Tonks would have liked to find a staircase that wasn't blocked by rubble. By the time they found their way to the floor below, Remus was shaking like a leaf in a gale and Tonks wasn't feeling all that great herself. The shock was finally getting to her, and the various cuts and bruises she had acquired were starting to hurt like hell. When they piled through the Auror office door, however, they were greeted like conquering heroes.

"Thank god – "

"Where have you two been?"

"Shit, she's missing a leg – "

"Isn't that the bloke from the lift?"

"How did you lot get out of there?"

Before Tonks knew what was happening, she was engulfed in Alastor Moody's tight embrace. The old man squeezed her to his chest so hard that she struggled to breathe.

"Hey Mad-Eye," she coughed. "Guess you missed me."

"Bloody hell, girl," he growled in her ear. "Don't ever do something like that again, we thought you were dead."

"Woulda been if it weren't for Remus," she said, extricating herself awkwardly from her boss's arms. "He held up a few tons of rock with his bare hands. And some wandless magic."

Everyone turned to look at the werewolf, but he wasn't paying attention. He was making a beeline for the large rubbish bin next to the coffee machine. Tonks winced as he leaned over it and retched, bracing his hand against the wall as his body shuddered. She mourned their sandwiches, eaten in vain not even twenty minutes ago.

"For fuck's sake, Lupin," Moody grumbled, making his way over to the younger man. Done emptying the contents of his stomach, Remus wiped his mouth and lowered himself shakily to the floor, propping his back against the cabinet that held all the mugs. He was shivering uncontrollably, his skin white and shining with cold sweat. Not far away, Kingsley was helping Damian situate the unconscious woman on one of the couches. The tall Auror already had medical supplies out for Ron, who was lying on the other couch with his head in Hermione's lap. The rest of the Gryffindors were clustered nearby, in various stages of shock.

"You need to stop doing this to yourself, lad," Moody was saying as he lowered himself into a chair in front of Remus. The werewolf looked utterly miserable, curling in on himself and clutching at his hair with shaking hands.

"What was I 'sposed to do, Moody?" he demanded, his voice sounding higher and younger than normal. "Just give up and let us all die?"

"You could have used your wand, like a normal wizard."

"It broke."

"Again?"

Remus just groaned unhappily.

"'Sides," he continued weakly, "wouldn't have made any difference. No wand could have held up that much rock."

Moody grunted skeptically.

"Well, I'm just glad you're alright."

Remus let out a grunt that sounded more like a whimper. Moody glanced between the miserable werewolf and the exhausted metamorphmagus.

"You two look like hell."

Tonks snorted.

"Gee, thanks Mad Eye."

The old man pulled his wand out of his robes and got to his feet.

"Sit," he ordered Tonks, pointing at the chair he'd just vacated. Wearily, she obeyed, letting him run diagnostic spells over her. As he got to work healing the nasty cut on the back of her neck, she glanced over to see that Kingsley and Damian were wrapping bandages around what remained of the young woman's left leg. She was still unconscious, her face pale and drawn.

"How is she?" Tonks asked. Damian glanced at the pink-haired Auror over his shoulder.

"Surprisingly decent," he replied. "She's lost a lot of blood, obviously. But it was a clean job, and the cauterizing means it's already stopped bleeding. We're disinfecting the wound and wrapping it, but that's about all we can do from here. Once the anti-Apparition wards come down, we'll be able to get her to St. Mungo's. Here's hoping she stays asleep until then, otherwise she'll be in a lot of pain."

"She'll need a blood transfusion," Kingsley chimed in from a chair nearby, "and they'll be able to start growing a new leg for her. But considering what she's been through, she's doing pretty well."

"Good," Tonks said, giving Damian a small smile. The large man quirked his lips in response, then turned back to his self-appointed charge. Tonks shifted her focus to Ron, who was grimacing unhappily on the other couch.

"You alright, Ron?" she asked. The boy looked over at her and nodded.

"Yeah, 'm alright. Apparently my killies tender is broken, whatever that is."

"Achilles tendon, Ron," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. "And it's torn, not broken. Honestly, your grasp of anatomy is shocking."

"'Mione, I was almost turned into jelly a few minutes ago," the red-haired boy in her lap griped. "Could you lay off?"

The bushy-haired girl's lips pursed and her brow furrowed. She looked like she was trying very hard not to cry. As if sensing this, Ron reached up and grabbed her hand.

"Hey, 'Mione, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry."

The girl let out a gasping sob, gripping his hand so tightly his fingers turned white.

"You almost died, Ron," she said, her voice shaking. "You almost died!"

"Yeah, but I didn't," Ron said simply. "I'm fine."

He smiled up at her reassuringly, and Hermione finally nodded, managing a weak smile in return. Ron then turned surprisingly worried eyes on the werewolf sitting beneath the coffee machine.

"How's he doing?"

Both Moody and Tonks turned to look at Remus. The man had fallen asleep on the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around himself and his forehead resting on top of his knees. His ribcage moved in and out with every breath he took. Done with Tonks, Moody began to run diagnostic spells over him.

"If he were going to die, he'd be dead already," the old Auror grunted in response to Ron's question. Tonks raised an eyebrow.

"… that's not overly comforting, Mad Eye."

The old man sighed, feeling the werewolf's forehead with the back of his fingers.

"He'll be fine," he said firmly. "He's been through a lot worse than this. He has a rough few days ahead of him though, his body needs to replenish all the energy he just used up."

The old man reached down and grabbed the werewolf's shoulder. Remus awoke with a jerk and a hiss of pain.

"Lean forward, kid."

Remus obeyed without question, and Tonks swore. The back of his linen shirt was soaked with blood. Small holes in the fabric revealed the source of the wounds – shrapnel from the two near misses in the Atrium.

"Shit," Moody grumbled. "I hope you weren't too attached to this shirt."

He began to cut the bloodsoaked linen away from Remus's back with his wand. Tonks furrowed her brow.

"Can we get him off the floor?"

"He can come here," Ron called out. Tonks and Moody turned to see him sitting up, his lips pressed together in a thin line of suppressed pain.

"Lie back down, Weasley," Moody snapped. "You can't walk on that leg."

"I wasn't planning on it," the boy said drily. He scooted off the edge of the couch, wincing as he lowered himself to sit on the bright purple shag rug that adorned the break room floor.

"This carpet is horrible," Ron grumbled as Hermione joined him on the ground.

"Preaching to the choir," Tonks agreed, grinning. "Sirius picked it out, he won't let us burn it."

"Come on, Lupin," Moody said, grabbing the werewolf's elbow.

Remus allowed the old man to help him up, grimacing as he finally got to his feet. He was swaying slightly, and what remained of his shirt fell to the floor. Tonks blinked, embarrassingly distracted by the werewolf's bare chest.

He was thin and not overly broad across the shoulders, but his slight frame was rippling with sinewy muscle. Tonks knew plenty of men who put time and effort into their appearance, but none of them looked like this. This was a body that had seen a lifetime of struggle. He was all angles and scar tissue, tattoos and smears of drying blood. She found herself simultaneously attracted and repulsed by him, the latter especially when her eyes finally settled on the largest of his tattoos – the twin snakes that twisted around his upper torso. They were jet black, their shining bodies coiling from his back, under his arms and up his sternum, ending with their fanged mouths opening at the base of his throat.

She had known intellectually that he had a Reaper tattoo. But knowing about it and seeing it in the flesh were two very different things. She'd seen them in history books of course – on black and white images of Greyback or MacIntyre or the countless other infamous psychopaths in Voldemort's employ. The Reapers had worn their mark with pride, just as the Death Eaters had. Many of them had gone so far as to conduct their grisly business half-naked, so their victims knew exactly what they were in for. Seeing that same tattoo now – on the chest of a man she had kissed – was a bizarre and unpleasant experience.

Remus looked too sick and exhausted to notice her reaction to his exposed chest. He simply allowed Moody to guide him to the couch where he collapsed, bracing his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. The room had gone oddly silent, indicating that Tonks was not the only one feeling uncomfortable. Moody shot them all a dark glare before getting to work on Remus's injuries.

The awkward silence stretched on. Everyone was staring at the miserable werewolf on the couch. To Tonks's surprise, it was Damian who finally spoke.

"That's an interesting one, mate," he said casually, pointing at a small, silvery tattoo on Lupin's shoulder. "Where'd you get it?"

There was no indication that Remus had even heard the question. Finally, Moody prodded the man's shoulder. Remus raised his head, blinking at the old man blearily.

"Your mate asked you a question," Moody grunted, continuing to clean the blood away from Lupin's back with practiced flicks of his wand. Remus looked around with bloodshot eyes.

"… what?"

"That tattoo," Damian said, pointing to his own shoulder to demonstrate its location. "Where'd you get it?"

Remus glanced down at the mark in question and froze. He didn't speak for a long moment. Then he swallowed.

"Just a clan marking," he replied dismissively, burying his face in his hands again.

"Liar."

The tension in the room suddenly skyrocketed. Damian was glaring at Lupin, his lips pressed together in an angry line.

"That's a Ministry tattoo," he hissed, jerking his chin at the mark. "We used to put silver marks like that on werewolves so they would show up even after they'd transformed. But we haven't done it in decades, the werewolf rights groups didn't like it."

"You've got it wrong, mate. It's a clan mark, nothing more."

"Why would you make a tattoo out of ink that constantly burns you?" Damian asked incredulously. "Stop lying to me, kid. You got that here, in the Ministry. I thought you grew up in the packs."

"I did!" Remus snarled angrily.

"Sit still, Lupin," Moody snapped from beside him.

"What are you hiding?" Damian demanded. "I've read your files, you said you were born in the Lothian pack. Rather handy that they're all dead."

Remus flinched, but Damian wasn't about to let up.

"Nobody alive can vouch for you, all we have is your word," he said, rising slowly to his feet. "And seeing as werewolves are immune to Veritaserum, your word isn't worth all that much is it?"

"Damian, what is your point?" Tonks demanded angrily. While the Reaper tattoo had her a bit shaken, she still cared for Remus quite a lot, and the man looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"That he isn't who he says he is!" Damian shouted, leveling a shaking finger at Lupin. "He can't have grown up in the packs. That mark has been on his shoulder for at least twenty-five years, meaning that he came through Beast Division before he was, what… seven? Alphas don't bring their little mongrels in to the Ministry to be registered!"

Remus had stopped protesting. His body was now shaking uncontrollably, his eyes darting around as though searching for an escape route. He pulled free from Moody's hands, ignoring the old man's protests as he practically threw himself across the room towards his desk. Tonks jumped to her feet, pointing a warning finger at Damian as the man started to follow the upset werewolf.

"Stay away from him," she hissed. "I don't know what your problem is, but leave him the fuck alone!"

With that, she turned and followed Remus over to his desk. The distraught man was pulling open drawers and rifling through his belongings.

"What are you looking for?"

"… a shirt," he replied, wiping the back of his hand over his eyes. "I thought I had a spare one here…"

"Kings!" Tonks shouted over her shoulder. "You got a jumper or something that Remus can borrow?"

"Yeah, mate," Kingsley replied immediately, leaping to his feet and running to his desk. He grabbed a maroon hoody off the back of his chair and threw it to Tonks, who shot him a grateful smile.

"Here," she said, holding the hoody out like a peace offering. The shivering werewolf grabbed it and pulled it over his head, visibly relaxing as the oversized garment covered his bare torso. He seemed to shrink, his eyes closing as he almost collapsed against the side of his desk and buried his face in his hands.

"Hey," Tonks whispered soothingly, stepping closer to him. She reached out a tentative hand and gripped his bicep. When he didn't react she stepped even closer, leaning her whole body against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay."

He finally responded to her embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her and clinging to her like a lifeline. He was shuddering, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

"'m sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry…" he whispered over and over again in her ear. Hot tears dripped onto the skin at the base of her neck. Tonks spared a brief moment to wonder whether this was her superpower – making Remus cry. She ran a firm hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, shushing him like she would a child.

After several long minutes, his breathing finally steadied. He pulled back far enough to lean his forehead against hers. She looked up at him but his eyes were still closed. She took the opportunity to examine the scars running down his left cheek, the curve of his nose where it had obviously been broken, the long brown eyelashes that were currently stuck together with drying tears. His face was still crusted with blood from his nose, and she ran a quick cleaning charm over him. Now at least he didn't look quite so much like a wild animal.

"… 'm sorry about the tattoos…" he finally mumbled, still not looking at her. "I know they're horrible."

So he hadn't been as unaware of her reaction as she'd hoped. Tonks grimaced.

"Oh, Remus," she replied unhappily, running a hand down his cheek. "I just… wasn't prepared for them."

He let out a mirthless chuckle.

"I'm still not prepared for them, and they're on my fucking body."

She didn't know how to respond to that, so she just squeezed him a bit tighter to her.

"… if it makes you feel any better, there are certain… other aspects of you that I find quite appealing."

This time his chuckle carried genuine humor. He opened his eyes and swallowed, hesitating.

"I wasn't raised in the packs, not at first," he whispered. "I lied to you. I lied to everyone."

"Okay," she responded simply. "I'm sure you had a good reason."

He grimaced.

"A few, actually."

"… do you want to talk about it?"

"… no."

"Fair enough. I told Damian to fuck off. But can you let Moody finish with your back? You can keep the jumper on, just pull it up a bit."

He nodded wearily. But his grip on her didn't loosen.

"When d'you think we'll be able to get out of here?" he asked. "I'm really tired of the teenage audience for all my drama."

Tonks laughed.

"They're really seeing a different side of you today, aren't they?"

Remus sighed wearily, running a hand down his face. He scrubbed at his eyes, trying to remove any sign of tears.

"You really think they're going to care if you've been crying?" Tonks asked, running her thumb along his stubbled jawline. "You're only human, Remus. Let them see that."

As if to prove her point, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. After an initial jerk of surprise, he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, wrapping his large hand around the back of her neck. He tasted a bit like sick, but then she probably did too. By the time they finally parted, they were both breathing heavily.

A wolf whistle from the sofas called them back to earth. They glanced over to find Kingsley grinning at them and waggling his eyebrows.

"'Bout bloody time, Lupin!" the tall Auror called out over the desks. Remus let out an exhausted yet genuine laugh, shooting Kingsley a rude gesture with his fingers as he buried his face in Tonks's neck again. Tonks grinned at her colleague, then turned to deposit a kiss on Remus's temple.

"Come on," she whispered in his ear. "Let's get you healed up."

He let her lead him back to the sofas by the hand. Tonks glared pointedly at Damian as they passed him and he had the good sense to remain silent, though it looked like his curiosity was far from satisfied.

"Hey," Kingsley said, raising his eyebrows as they approached, "Gryffindor looks good on you, mate."

Remus furrowed his brow, then looked down at the front of his hoody. Kingsley hadn't given him just any maroon jumper. A familiar golden lion was emblazoned on it. Tonks let out a surprised laugh.

"It does look good on you!" she exclaimed. "Really accentuates your eyes."

Remus shot her a rueful glance, looking extremely self-conscious. Moody took pity on him.

"Get over here, kid," he growled. "You ran off before I'd finished. Shacklebolt, you'll have to wash that jumper when you get it back."

"I dunno, boss," Kingsley said as Remus collapsed yet again on the sofa. "I might let him keep it, looks like it was made for him."

"What house are you anyway, Professor?" Hermione asked from the floor. Tonks couldn't help but smile at everyone's attempts to distract Remus from what had just happened.

"No idea," Remus muttered as Moody resumed the work on his back.

"Dumbledore never put the Sorting Hat on you?"

Remus furrowed his brow at the girl.

"Why would he do that?"

She shrugged.

"Dunno. To make you feel like you belonged, I guess."

Remus didn't reply. He just winced as Moody removed a particularly large shard of marble from his side.

"I think he's in Ravenclaw," one of the other girls – Tonks had already forgotten her name – said.

"Nah, he's in Slytherin," Dean said, shaking his head. "Not everyone in Slytherin turns out bad, though."

Remus couldn't help but laugh at this.

"Thanks, Dean," he grunted. Tonks grinned.

"If you're really lucky," she teased, "you might end up in Hufflepuff with me. We all know everyone secretly wants to be a 'Puff."

Her words were met with laughter and good-natured ribbing. The air of tension was finally broken. Remus looked at Tonks, his eyes conveying emotions she didn't quite know how to deal with yet. She smiled at him, her face flushing.

With a sigh, Damian stood up again.

"I'm off," he grunted. "The others probably think I'm dead, I'll have to inform them otherwise."

Tonks looked up at him but didn't speak. She still hadn't forgiven him. He was staring at Remus intently, but the werewolf's eyes were now fixed on the floor.

"… thank you," the officer finally said, shifting on his feet. "You had no reason to help me."

Remus shrugged, not looking up.

"You had no reason to help her, either," he said, jerking his head at the injured woman.

"True," Damian admitted. "She didn't try to kill me a month ago, though."

Remus finally looked up, a surprisingly rueful expression on his face.

"Mate, even Moody's tried to kill me," he said, gesturing over his shoulder at the old man. "Just don't point a gun at Tonks again and we'll call it even, alright?"

Tonks raised her eyebrows at her boss, but he just rolled his eyes and shook his head. She made a mental note to ask him about it later. Meanwhile, Damian was giving Remus an oddly appraising look.

"Alright," he said, nodding. He turned to leave, hesitated, then looked back.

"Lupin… that mark on your shoulder – "

The werewolf stiffened.

"Just leave it – "

" – I know there's a story behind it," Damian continued stubbornly. "And I'm willing to bet it's not a pleasant one."

Remus just glared at the man, his lips pulled into a thin, angry line. Damian sighed wearily.

"You know we would have treated you differently, right?" he asked, shaking his head. "If we'd known about that on the Knight Bus."

"Why?" Remus hissed. "Why does it make any goddamned difference?"

"Because you were in our system!" Damian cried. "You should have been under our protection, and somehow those bastards got a hold of you anyway. Did you actually choose to be a Reaper?"

"Yes," Remus snarled. "Nobody coerced me into it, if that's what you're asking. Believe it or not, I had some very good reasons for hating the Ministry and everything it stood for."

"Why? What did we do to you?"

It was a genuine question. But Remus had resumed his thorough inspection of the purple carpet beneath his feet. He was done talking. Damian let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand down his face.

"Look, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know we don't have the best track record. Umbridge was a bad egg, and she dragged us all along with her. Some of her policies made so much sense that it was hard to stand up to her when she started going off the deep end. But things are changing. We're trying to clean house."

Remus snorted, still staring at the floor.

"Crowther, trying to clean house? You were better off with Umbridge, honestly."

Damian froze, his eyes suddenly very serious.

"What do you know about Crowther?"

No response. To Tonks's surprise, Damian actually knelt down in front of Remus, trying to catch the werewolf's eye.

"What do you know about Crowther?" he repeated, urgently this time. Remus physically shrank away from the older man, and Moody finally decided he'd had enough.

"What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?" he snarled, standing up and shoving Damian away. "I thought you had to leave!"

Damian backed off, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, alright," he said. "I'm done."

He gave Remus one last searching look, then turned to Kingsley.

"Look after her for me, will you?" he asked, jerking his chin at the woman on the couch. "Make sure she gets to St. Mungo's."

Kingsley nodded mutely and Damian finally stalked out of the room, leaving another awkward silence in his wake. Everyone was staring at Remus again and he grimaced, pulling the back of his jumper down and getting to his feet.

"Who's Crowther?" Harry finally asked as the werewolf made his way to the coffee machine and grabbed the closest mug.

"The new head of Beast Division," Moody responded gruffly. "He was Umbridge's chief of staff. Can't say he's much of an improvement, to be honest."

"Dora, how do I use this thing without unleashing Christmas carols?" Remus asked testily, staring at the coffee machine like it might explode. Tonks snorted and walked over to him.

"Push the button for a double shot twice, then put in what you want," she explained. "You really going to use that mug?"

Remus held it up. It sported the words Snuggle This Muggle in bright pink script. He shrugged.

"I'm not a Muggle, but I could use some snuggles," he muttered, shooting her an exhausted smile. He set his coffee brewing then turned around, bracing himself against the counter.

"Is anyone dealing with the fucking anti-Apparition wards?" he asked nobody in particular, then jerked his head at the unconscious woman. "We need to get her to St. Mungo's, shouldn't they be down by now?"

Moody had clearly been wondering the same thing. His arms were crossed over his chest, his brow furrowed in thought.

"They really should be," he agreed. "I was with the Minister when the ceiling fell, I thought he went to dismantle them. 'Course, there were people running all over the place screaming about the Dark Mark and the sky falling. Maybe he got side-tracked."

"Why are there anti-Apparition wards down here?" Hermione asked curiously.

Moody grimaced.

"Some bloke from Muggle Relations accidentally Apparated into the bedrock two years ago. Fudge has insisted on anti-Apparition wards throughout the Ministry ever since. Load of bollocks in my opinion."

"Yep," Kingsley agreed. "Leaves us relying solely on Floos down here, and seeing as they're offline…"

He gestured toward the Floo on the other side of the room. Normally filled with cheerfully crackling flames, the grate was cold and black.

"I think our emergency procedures could do with an update," Kingsley said sarcastically.

"Whose idea was it to build the Ministry underground, anyway?" Tonks asked.

"Phinneus Bigglesworth," Remus said, grabbing his finished coffee and blowing on it. "Same bloke who designed the Atrium, funnily enough."

"Well, I'd like to give old Bigglesworth a black eye."

Remus snorted.

"He's very dead, I think that would be difficult."

"I'll find a way," Tonks insisted, crossing her arms. "The Department of Mysteries has Time Turners, right?"

Remus's eyes grinned at her over the Snuggle This Muggle mug. Tonks couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"I'm getting you that mug for Christmas," she said. He quirked his eyebrows mischievously at her.

"You going to gift wrap that too?"

Her cheeks went brilliantly red and his face split into a triumphant grin.

"You'll just have to wait and see," she replied primly, arching a regal eyebrow at him.

"Mmm…" he hummed, eyeing her as he took another sip of his coffee. She resisted the urge to poke him in the stomach. Moody cleared his throat awkwardly over by the sofas.

"So…" he began, obviously trying to sound casual, "… when did this start?"

He gestured between Lupin and Tonks, his magical eye boring into them in turn. Tonks gulped and glanced at Remus, who looked utterly mortified by the question.

"… erm…" she stammered, blinking rapidly. She heard muffled sniggers from the teenagers around her. Remus hid his face behind his coffee, almost choking as some of it went down the wrong pipe. Tonks couldn't help but laugh.

"… it hasn't even been a week, sir," she finally managed to get out. "We're not… breaking any Ministry rules, are we?"

Moody didn't respond. He sighed deeply and got to his feet, shoving his right hand deep into the pocket of his robes. Tonks and Remus watched in confusion as he pulled out a single Galleon and walked over to Kingsley, depositing the money in the younger man's waiting palm.

"Called it," Kingsley said triumphantly. Moody shook his head at Tonks.

"Couldn't you have jumped him back in October? I would be a Galleon richer right now."

Tonks gaped incredulously at her boss. She suspected that Remus was doing the same because after a moment everyone – Moody, Kingsley, and all the Gryffindors – started to laugh.

"Were you… betting on when we'd get together?!" Tonks finally managed to squeak. Moody shrugged.

"We have to entertain ourselves somehow," he said gruffly. "I had you pegged for October. Kingsley here said it wouldn't be until December."

Tonks and Remus turned to look at each other, unable to keep from laughing.

"Guess I'm not as good at hiding my emotions as I thought," Remus said, shaking his head.

"You're bloody obvious, mate," Kingsley chuckled. "Whenever she goes on a mission without you, you just prowl around and shout at people."

Remus furrowed his brow.

"I do that all the time."

"Ah, but you do it less when Tonks is nearby," Kingsley stated firmly. "Why do you think Moody assigned you those desks?"

They turned mildly accusing eyes on their boss. The old man shrugged.

"What? I had to do something to keep our resident werewolf happy."

Remus let out a bark of laughter, running a weary hand down his face.

"I can't believe this is happening…" he murmured, shaking his head. Tonks grinned at him.

"And you thought you didn't have any friends."

She turned back to Kingsley.

"Does everyone know?" she asked, rather dreading the answer. Thankfully, he shook his head.

"Nah, just the two of us. I think everyone else actively ignores Lupin's presence. No offense, mate."

"None taken."

The office door burst open, and they all turned to see Damian striding back across the room, his face pale as the Bloody Baron. Tonks narrowed her eyes at the man.

"Damian, what are you – "

"You need to get out of here."

The large man had come to a stop directly in front of Remus. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wild and his fists clenched. Remus took a nonchalant sip of his coffee.

"Why?"

"Because they're coming for you, you idiot," Damian hissed. "They think you brought down the ceiling!"

Remus froze. He slowly put the mug down.

"… sorry?"

Damian let out a huff of frustration and stepped forward, grabbing Remus by the arm. He held up what looked like a butterbeer bottle top.

"Take this," he hissed, shoving it into the werewolf's hand. "It's a Portkey, it will take you to the public toilets in the British Library."

Remus furrowed his brow and threw the bottle top back at Damian before the man could activate it.

"I can't take that!" he cried, then pointed to the woman on the couch. "She's the one who needs it, have you had that in your pocket this whole time?!"

"No!" Damian cried. "I snuck it out of Beast Division for you when I heard what was going on! Crowther's getting a warrant from the Minister as we speak, they're coming to arrest you."

"But why?" Tonks demanded angrily. "I don't understand, the ceiling fell because of the massive bloody tunnel the Muggles were digging above it!"

"Anyone with an ounce of sense knows that," Damian hissed, "but there are people out there calling for Lupin's blood. They think he cast the Dark Mark and then brought the ceiling down on purpose."

"Well then, let's go set them straight," Remus said firmly, starting to walk past Damian. "In the meantime, can someone please get that woman to – "

Damian grabbed the front of Remus's jumper, practically lifting the younger man off his feet.

"Think, man! At least a hundred people saw you cast the Dark Mark, you don't have a good history, and you're magically exhausted. How are you going to prove that you didn't bring that ceiling down? From what I saw, you might actually be powerful enough to do it!"

Remus shoved the man off him angrily but didn't have a ready answer. He shifted on his feet, suddenly looking uncertain.

"I didn't – "

He looked around the room, then wiped the back of his hand over his mouth nervously.

"I wouldn't do something like that," he said, his voice shaking. "They can't honestly think – "

"They do," Damian said grimly, "and they're coming for you. If Crowther gets his way, you'll await trial in Azkaban."

Remus's face went oddly blank. His eyes dulled, and his fists clenched.

"I'll die in there."

It was not a statement of fear. It was just a cold fact.

"I know," Damian said softly, then held up the bottle top again. "Please, kid. Take the fucking Portkey."

Remus glanced beyond Damian to the woman lying on the couch.

"Can I take her with – "

"It's only good for one person through anti-Apparition wards," Damian said, shaking his head. "And they're leaving them up specifically to keep you in. Get yourself out of here, then we'll take her to St. Mungo's."

Remus's eyes darted to Tonks. He looked more frightened than she'd ever seen him. She forced an encouraging smile for him, though she could feel her lips trembling.

"You know where to go," she whispered. He swallowed.

"I didn't do it. You know that, don't you?"

She let out a huff of almost hysterical laughter and stepped forward, grabbing the front of his jumper and pulling him down for one last desperate kiss.

"Of course I do, you idiot," she said, fighting back tears as she leaned her forehead against his. "Now get out of here, please."

She took a step back, turning anxious eyes to Damian. The officer was still holding out the bottle top. With an unhappy grimace, Remus took it. Glancing up at the older man, he furrowed his brow.

"Why are you doing this? I thought you hated me."

"So did I, Lupin," Damian said simply, then tapped the bottle cap with the tip of his wand. With a crack, Remus disappeared.

"So did I."


A/N: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! :)