A/N: Yeah, I realize that Christmas wasn't done like this in the book. I disregard canon a lot in my stories, if you haven't noticed, so you can get used to it

Unable to sleep, Tonks rose early on Christmas. Normally, she went to her parents' and often brought along an entourage of friends to celebrate together. This year, she felt no motivation to see anyone. The Weasleys' Christmas party wasn't until the afternoon. A few good hours remained before she would be forced to put on a smile and pretend like everything was okay. That was the only way. She didn't need anyone's patronizing or pity. If she couldn't truly be happy, she could at least pretend. It wouldn't be fair to spoil Christmas for everyone, either.

Several hours were devoted to drifting. Drifting to the stove, before remembering that she wasn't hungry. Drifting to her book case, before remembering that she'd read everything. Drifting to her bed before remembering that she couldn't sleep. By quarter to two, she decided to get ready for the party. Tonks didn't kid herself into believing that she could morph. Instead, she used a few spells to give herself bright pink hair again. When she was bathed, dressed, and somewhat refreshed-looking, she Apparated to the Burrow.

Lupin gasped when he saw her. Away from her line of vision, he could clearly observe how much she had truly changed. Not like he had been looking for her or anything. He just happened to be standing in a certain corner behind a large Christmas tree. Alone. Nervously adjusting his clothes. Seeing her now made him split. Half wanted to run to her and hold her in his arms and make everything all right again. The other half wanted to keep hiding. In the end, he compromised: moved to a more visible spot, but didn't approach her.

Tonks was a fairly good actor- better than most would give her credit for. She kept her pasted smile for the whole evening, coolly sidestepped the requests to change her appearance, and conversed with almost everyone. It looked like even Mrs. Weasley was fooled. The pink hair had certainly helped. Why hadn't she thought of dying it before?

Hours later, when the food was gone and conversation had reached a lull, Lupin noticed people beginning to leave. Grateful that he could now leave without being rude, he went to get his cloak. It was in one of the bedrooms. When he opened the door, he almost shut it again. A shock of pink hair was enough to make him want to creak the door shut. She had seen him. It was too late. Leaving now would make him a coward.

"Evening," he said cordially.

"Hi," Tonks muttered back.

"Leaving, too?"

"Yes."

"Did you have a nice time?"

"Yes."

"Really? You look exhausted and depressed. Is everything okay?"

How could he say that with a straight face? As if he didn't know that everything was his fault. God, he could be ignorant sometimes.

"Oh, yes," she said sarcastically. "I absolutely love being rejected…again…and then being told by everyone else that my feelings aren't real. Oh, it's just lust, you'll get over it. Well, guess what? It's not lust. It's not infatuation or any of the countless petty and trivial ways used to describe the way people feel."

"Jesus Christ. All I did was ask a question. You don't need to fly off the handle."

"You know what? I think it's about time someone flew off the handle at you. You can't just expect me to pretend like everything's all right. Maybe you are lucky enough; you have no emotions and can't feel anything. But we're not all like you, Remus Lupin, and some of us are capable of being hurt."

Their voices had risen to near hysteria, easily loud enough to be heard by the remaining crowd.

"You say I'm not capable of being hurt? That's bullshit, Nymphadora. Absolute bullshit. You know it's bullshit. I feel as much as you do. Maybe I just hide it better."

"Go on then," she said, slightly calmer. "Tell me how you really feel."

Lupin hesitated. He was unwilling to make things worse by telling her how he felt. It wasn't fair to either of them.

"See?" Tonks yelled again. "You keep everyone at a distance. You don't let anyone in, and you expect us all to keep you at a distance too. Well guess what? Maybe someone wants to break that wall but you won't even let anyone try. You say you're too poor, too old for me. But you're not. It's a lie. Really, you just don't want to let me in. Fine. That's how you want it? Fine. I'm leaving anyway."

Making a huge effort not to look at Lupin again, Tonks picked up her cloak and strode out of the room. For once, she managed to not trip on her way out. Only then did she realize how the whole party was silent, apparently just listening to their exchange. She swore under her breath before attempting a smile again. It would be hard covering that argument up.

Lupin had always liked the room he was staying at in the Order's headquarters. It was small, tidy, simple. No space was wasted on frivolous artifacts he didn't need. Dim, cheerful lamps bathed the room in a warm glow. His meager belongings were stacked neatly in drawers or shelves. Yes, it was a suitable room. Tonight, as he came home, all he could think was how lonely it looked. The room reminded him of himself, though he had never made the connection before. It was cheerful and inviting, but if one stepped inside, they would see that everything of importance was set away. That was Remus Lupin. Right now, all he could think of was Tonks. She'd hurt him, more than she could possibly imagine. He would be justified in never seeing her again. But then, a small voice said, didn't you hurt her first? Shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts, Lupin concentrated on tidying up the already meticulous room. He couldn't get away with never seeing Tonks again. That much was obvious. They would still attend the same Order meetings, had many of the same friends. The Wizarding community was small enough that they were bound to bump into each other sometime. For a moment, he thought about what it would be like if he allowed his emotions to rule him. Then sharp reality brought him back.

How could he do that to her? He didn't love her. Fine. That much was clear to Tonks. She couldn't force him to return her feelings. If he left her alone, she could at least begin picking up the pieces. But no. He picked at her like a bothersome scab. The thing with scabs, though, was that if the layer was ripped too many times, a scar would form and the skin would never be whole again. As she undressed, Tonks thought of ways to never see him again. In the end, short of suicide, she couldn't think of any. Even in her current, half-crazed state, she wasn't ready to commit suicide.

She flipped off the light and tried to sleep. Fifteen minutes later and a hundred miles away, Lupin did the same. It was hours before either fell asleep.