Orange Essence

By November, Tonks and Remus were firm friends. Remus was more at ease. He spoke very little, but when he did it was with sense. His fellows listened to him with all the respect he felt he never deserved. And he found, for the first time in many years, that he looked forward to the company of friends. He, Tonks and Sirius would drink Firewhisky late into the night, swapping stories and sharing in tipsy laughter. Sirius would drift into an alcohol-induced slumber and snore quietly at the table. His survivors would pull their chairs closer to the hearth, stoke the fire and continue talking.

Remus, who was practically tea-total, bit his tongue whenever Tonks poured herself another glass of Firewhisky. He rather liked it when she did; her clumsiness was enhanced and her laughter was even louder. She was hardly ever still, always pulling faces or wrinkling her nose; snorting in disgust or throwing her head back to laugh. It comforted him, somehow. She laughed with her whole body – kicking out her feet, slapping her leg, leaning forward in her seat. She was happy, effortlessly so. It was mesmerizing, and he was jealous of it.

When she burst in through the door of Number 12, Grimmauld Place and hollered "It's me!" she would rouse the welcoming tones of Mrs Black's portrait ("Blood traitors! Scum!") and, dropping the forests of paperwork she had brought with her, would greet Sirius and Remus in the hallway sporting a sheepish smile. Tonks came to borrow Remus' neat handwriting and to entertain her stir-crazy cousin. "You know what I think?" she said once, as the trio rested in the kitchen after a particularly nasty screaming fit from Mrs Black. "We're like the Three Musketeers. Valiantly shutting up mad old bats one shot glass at a time…"

Tonks loved visiting Grimmauld Place, which struck her as funny. It had seemed so imposing on that first evening. She had found herself trying to catch Remus' eye during meetings if ever Snape delivered a pithy comment about dogs being allowed on the furniture, after Sirius having said something particularly silly. They were so different; Remus and she. Tonks was constantly fidgeting, desperate to expel the energy that queued up at the tips of her fingers and toes. It was one of her particular characteristics: her lack of patience.

Remus, on the other hand, was like stone. He was the quietest man she had ever met. Each and every move he made was predetermined and purposeful. As if to make up for his quiet grace she found herself tripping over furniture more often and knocking over Butterbeer bottles at particularly quiet moments. She valued his insight and interest in her work, and she missed him when he was gone. By the middle of July he was away for days at a time on private business for Dumbledore, and by the time these tasks were completed Grimmauld Place was overrun with Weasleys and the Three Musketeers had disbanded. No more Firewhisky by the hearth, no more afternoons spent in companionable silence in the library. Just loud conversation, a makeshift Molly Weasley cleaning staff, and endless red heads…

"You're back." Remus turned to find Tonks, sporting red curls, behind him. His face split into a wide smile that faltered as she sprang forward to hug him. Wow, Tonks thought, Merlin's beard, I've gone for that. She wasn't the hugging type, especially with men. It always gave them the wrong idea – how many awkward teenage ask-outs had she suffered in the corridors at school? How many times had she developed heartburn after wolfing down toast and tea, dodging an amorous Quidditch player and racing back to the Hufflepuff common room? But she had missed Lupin, and she wanted him to know it. Besides, what danger was she in from Remus? He still hadn't answered her burning questions about the rumours that Peter Pettigrew had tried it on with him in the Gryffindor boys' dormitories once. Actually, that was probably something Sirius had made up for a laugh.

"Indeed I am," Remus said, recovered. "You look like a mini-Molly this evening."

"What? Oh, the hair! Yeah, I just, you know. When in Rome…" She gestured around the room at the sea of red hair and knocked Ginny's porridge bowl out of her hands. Remus chuckled at Tonks' frantic attempts to hex the porridge stains out of Ginny's new blouse. Ginny having excused herself to search out her mother's more capable cleaning spells, Tonks turned back to Remus, mortified.

"How was your trip? Did you miss us?"

"It was a little lonely, but very successful. I managed to convince some of the werewolves in the eastern covens to consider an alliance with the Order. They were very good to me a couple of years ago – took me in when I had nowhere else to go…" He tipped his head, as if in hiding. "And yes, I missed you very much. It was far too quiet after so much good conversation."

They smiled at each other; friends, equals. For a moment Remus thought he saw a few strands of Tonks' hair flush pink, but Ron had just entered the room and the amount of red in such a small place was leaving him dizzy. Tonks had opened her mouth to speak, "I thought that tomorrow –" Kingsley Shacklebolt had elbowed his way through the sea of red to warmly shake Lupin's hand, though, and Tonks found herself swept to the other side of the room by the impossible red current. She sat next to Sirius, who was smirking earlier in the evening than usual. That was weird: Snape hadn't even arrived yet.

"Evening, Dor," Sirius grinned. Strangely deflated, Tonks decided to ignore her cousin's baiting. She settled back in her chair and watched as the formidable Molly herded her brood from the kitchen. Snape arrived and settled himself at Dumbledore's side, threw Sirius a dirty glance and proceeded to whisper into the older man's ear. Mundungus was monopolizing Hermione; discussing the benefits of cauldrons when smuggling "not strictly legal" substances through Apparating stations. Hermione, obviously appalled, was throwing Ron desperate glances. Instead of doing the heroic thing and rescuing Hermione from endless cauldron talk, Ron snorted and folded his arms, chuckling madly as his mother ejected him from the room. It was Molly who saved Hermione, giving her a gentle nudge toward the door and scolding Mundungus for talking so. Tonks winked at Hermione; courage.

"Friends," Dumbledore began, "might we settle before Severus takes points from all our houses?" Everyone chuckled; Snape had made Dumbledore check his pocket watch four times since his arrival. Tonks sunk lower in her seat – was this a headache coming on? She felt miserable. A mug of steaming, sweet-smelling hot chocolate was placed in front of her by a long tweed arm. She looked up to find Remus smiling knowingly at her.

"I added a little orange essence to it – thought it would cheer you up." He then nudged a chair into the empty space on Tonks' left, and settled himself in it. Tonks, who now felt a little too queasy for hot chocolate (what was that about?), nevertheless was pleased, and took a sip. She could see Sirius' shoulders shaking with laughter out of the corner of her eyes, and briefly wondered what Severus had done now. She swallowed in order to ask, and –

"Merlin's beard, Remus, that's amazing!" As far as Tonks was concerned, the mystery of Lupin's sexuality had been solved: Any man who read as much Muggle poetry as he did, and who knew that adding "orange essence" to hot beverages led to at least seven kinds of happiness, had to be gay. And was she disappointed? She was, a bit. It was all Nymphadora Tonks could do to keep her hair its fiery red when she realised that she was harbouring a girlish crush on Remus Lupin…