Christmas was approaching, but Nymphadora Tonks was decidedly not in the holiday spirit.

Tonks sighed heavily as she placed the dishes in the cupboard at The Burrow, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that Molly would have a fit if she were to find her touching her flatware. She wouldn't have had to worry, Tonks thought, an ironic smile crossing her face for a brief moment. It had been six months since she had broken anything.

In fact, in those six months since she had seen Remus Lupin, she had managed to remain accident-free.

The change was not lost on those around her. Molly seemed to have stopped cringing every time Tonks approached the kitchen door, and Mad Eye had stopped keeping his magical eye fixed in her direction, waiting for a stumble or a case of the dropsies. Tonks was privately very grateful for this sudden change, as it meant her inability to morph didn't mean she would look like the wrong end of a barroom brawl.

Most of her evenings consisted of an Apparition back to her flat and a quiet night in bed, curled in a ball and staring out the window at the moon. There were so many nights she wished she could just reach out and touch the silver orb, because just maybe if she could feel that lunar surface Remus would somehow know she was thinking of him. Just maybe, she could feel him, too – hold on to that last piece of the man she loved, no matter how far removed it was from actually feeling the touch of his skin under her palm.

Merlin, how she missed that. The smoothness of his skin, broken only by the rough ridges of scars from full moons past. He was all angles and lean muscle, which had fit so perfectly with her curves that she thought perhaps they had been cut from the same mold and broken apart, left to find each other and complete the puzzle.

She remembered the first morning she had woken up not to feel those angles fitting snugly behind her, shock then realization setting in about what had occurred the night before. Numbness was all that had gotten her through dinner, through the final Order meeting in Grimmauld Place. She was grateful to never have to walk into that house again; it was too full of the Black family, Sirius and Remus for it to be emotionally comfortable for her. She did not ever want to walk into the kitchen again, that place where she had experienced the best and worst moments of her life, where the man she loved had woken her up inside and less than a year later broken her into pieces.

There was no doubt that she was broken. The entire next day had found her unable to move from her bed, curled into herself and weeping as if the world had ended. Which for her, it had. Only days after his declaration of love for her, sitting in her kitchen and clutching her hand as if her touch was the only thing that could keep him from the nightmare that had eaten away at his nights, he had simply walked away.

She knew he was doing this to protect her – from Greyback, from himself. It didn't make the situation any less real or painful. She had no idea what she could say or do to make this right. She hadn't even known where he was, or if he was. Greyback wasn't guaranteed to take to this werewolf who had come from the wizarding world; though Dumbledore had felt rather confident in Remus' cover, there was always the chance that Greyback would see through it and take care of him before he had even gotten through his first change with the pack. That thought, the terrifying realization that she may never see him again, never get to make things right, almost paralyzed her every time she had considered it. Even after he came back with his first report, looking tired and wasted but at least whole, those horrifying thoughts still haunted her on those full moon nights.

Since then, she had only seen him at meetings; he would come in through the back door, looking pale and more emaciated every time she saw him, which was very little. Tonks wasn't sure if this was a blessing or a curse, torn between her desperate desire to see with her own eyes that he was still alive and the pain that seared through her heart every time she saw him walk away back into the night, not having even glanced at her during the entire meeting.

Tonks was brought from her reverie by a sudden gust of wind as the door to the Burrow swung open. Tonks' wand was out and ready to strike as her head whipped around to find Molly Weasley, her cheeks flushed and breath coming out in puffs of steam from her mouth. The chill of the wind bit right through Tonks' robes, and the brightly colored packages Molly was carrying bitterly reminded Tonks that she would be spending a Christmas alone once again. Molly and Arthur had, on multiple occasions, invited her to join them for a family holiday – "You know, Tonks dear, that you are a part of this clan as much as Charlie," Molly had reminded her – but Tonks made her excuses: she didn't wish to intrude, she had plans, anything to keep from having to possibly face Remus on what should have been a very happy occasion, one celebrating family and love. For she knew, beyond a shadow, where the werewolf would be staying for Christmas. The thought of having to act cheery and joyful, when she really wanted nothing more than to sink in a hole and stay there for a very long time, ranked somewhere around unbearable, inching closer to impossible as time wore on.

"Oh!" Molly gave a little shriek upon seeing Tonks, mousy haired and pale, sitting at her kitchen table. She clutched a bag-laden hand to her chest and let out a huff of astonishment. "My dear, you scared the curses out of me!"

""Sorry, Molly," Tonks said apologetically, putting away her wand. "I guess we're all a little jumpy these days. D'you need help with those?"

Molly shook her head as she dumped the packages on the table. She glanced casually over her shoulder at Tonks as she began stuffing the packages in the back of the kitchen cupboard. "No, I'm fine. Are you staying for dinner?"

Tonks hesitated. "Well – I wouldn't want to impose – "

Molly tutted. "Not another word," she said briskly as she deftly shrunk the packages to an infantesimal size, as to avoid the prying eyes of her extremely curious and cunning children. "There's always enough for others. You know by now you are welcome anytime."

Tonks nodded, twisting her hands in her lap. Sometimes Molly and Arthur felt more like her parents than her own did. Not that Andromeda and Ted Tonks did not love their child; however, both of them had just managed to survive the first war, and they did not approve of or understand their daughter's loyalty to the Order. As far as they were concerned, anyone in the Order was simply suicidal, and Nymphadora was just destined to become another statistic. Tonks found it difficult to be around them, as every conversation involved them trying to convince her to come to her senses and abandon the cause. She knew they meant well, but fighting what often felt like a losing battle was difficult enough; she did not need the discouragement of her parents to top it all off. Especially since Remus had left. She felt badly enough about herself without anyone's help, thank you very much.

"I can help with dinner, Molly," she said, standing and walking towards the cupboard. "What can I do?"

Molly glanced at her warily, and Tonks couldn't help but offer a tiny smile. "Don't worry, Molly. I can't seem to hurt myself or drop anything lately. I think I'm in a funk." Her smile died as her attempt at a joke struck entirely too close to home.

Molly looked at her with so much pity that Tonks was horrified to find tears lurking beneath her eyelids. "He still hasn't spoken with you when he comes to meetings?" she asked gently, placing a motherly arm on Tonks' shoulder.

Tonks shook her head wordlessly, afraid anything she would try to say would come out as a croak past the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her. She turned abruptly back to the cupboard and started pulling out pots, anything to keep from drowning in the pity in Molly's eyes. "What're you going to fix, Molly?"

Molly sighed, realizing that Tonks most certainly did not want to discuss her and Remus. "Dear, why don't you let me –"

She was cut off by an abrupt knock on the door. Both women turned and looked in surprise at the door. "Well, I wonder," muttered Molly, approaching the door. "Who is it?" she called out, her wand hidden in the fold of her skirt. You couldn't be too careful these days, even in broad daylight.

"Molly, it's Remus."

Time stood still for Tonks as that familiar, hoarse voice came quietly through the door, knocking her back into the kitchen chair.

Molly was so startled she abandoned the requisite question and answer session and threw open the door to find the emaciated man with sunken eyes leaning against the doorjamb. He looked as if he had aged a thousand years in the past few months, new cuts and scars on his face and the look of a man who had not seen a good meal in weeks. But nothing could hide the sly humor and intelligence in his blue eyes that marked him clearly as Remus Lupin.

"Molly," he rasped, smiling down at her from a dirt-streaked face. "You really should have asked me the security question. We do that for a reason, and Arthur…" the sentence died off in his throat as he looked beyond Molly to see Tonks staring at him from the kitchen table, she lips tightly pursed and face pale and drawn. "Oh, I – I didn't know you had company. I can come back –"

"Don't be ridiculous, Remus," Molly said briskly, quickly assessing his state as she pulled him into the house. "You look horrible, my dear. Please, come in and go get cleaned up. You can use some of Fred and George's clothes, or Arthur's, whichever fit best. The children are at Diagon Alley with Arthur visiting the twins, they should be home shortly, and then we can all sit down for dinner. You look like you could use a good meal or two." Molly knew she was babbling, but the silence between the two ex-lovers was too pronounced. "How long are you going to be able to stay?"

Remus looked down at Molly, grateful for a distraction. Tonks was still staring at him intensely, and he needed to focus on something, anything than the haunted look on her face. "Not too long, I'm afraid. I just wanted to check up on you all, give you and Arthur a brief report to pass on to the rest of the Order. Dinner sounds wonderful, though." He braved a look over at the kitchen table, not quite meeting Tonks' eyes. "Nymphadora. How are you?"

Tonks registered that he had spoken to her. "Fine," she said in a strangled voice, sounding everything but. Her brain frantically searched for something to say to him. "You?" Brilliant. She could still form one-syllable words.

"Good," he replied a little too quickly, turning his attention back to Molly. "I'll, ah, just go up and wash." He beat a hasty retreat toward the staircase.

"Oh, my," muttered Molly, fluttering back to the pots and working quickly. "Must get dinner on. The rest of the brood should be here soon."

Tonks finally found her legs and stood stiffly. "Molly, I'm going to –"

"Stay right where you are, young lady," Molly said, suddenly stern. Tonks plonked back down in her seat. "You cannot avoid him forever, Tonks. If you have something to say to him you should say it."

Tonks was a bit taken aback by Molly's bluntness. Though her words were harsh, her eyes were gentle and nearly brought Tonks to tears. "I – I can't," she whispered, tears and the sharp bite of panic clogging her throat. "He obviously doesn't want –"

"Oh, posh," scoffed Molly. "That man doesn't know what he wants. He can barely think right now. But I know one thing." She sat across from Tonks, taking her cold hand in her own warm one. "Remus still loves you. And you have to trust that."

"He left me," Tonks blurted, unable to hold in the bitterness and hurt that accompanied the tears now streaking her face. "He said he didn't love me. That he never had. He's too old for me, he's a werewolf, he can't support me, whatever he can think of to keep me away. What am I supposed to do, Molly? What am I supposed to say?"

"Tell him how you feel. And don't let him turn away from it," Molly put in at the dubious look on Tonks' face. "Keep at him. I know that it's hard, and it may be the hardest thing you have ever done. But it's worth it. It always is." She patted Tonks' hand. "Now, come help me with dinner. I've heard you've become quite the graceful one."

Tonks gave a watery laugh and stood with Molly, moving to the cupboard. They worked in companionable silence until Arthur and the children arrived, filling the house with noise and so much ruckus that Molly threatened them all if they did not exit her kitchen at once. As they were setting the table, Remus sauntered into the kitchen, looking less like death warmed over but still painfully thin. "Can I help?"

"No, dear, we're almost done here," said Molly, bringing the bread to the table. "If you could just go get the children and Arthur and tell them dinner's on the table."

"Of course." He hesitated in the doorway, as if he wanted to say something more but couldn't find the words. Tonks glanced up at him to find him staring intensely at her back, but as soon as he caught her gazing at him he turned abruptly to leave.

Molly and Tonks watched him walk away. Tonks straightened, her face set with a determination Molly hadn't seen there in months. "Excuse me, Molly," she said, walking purposefully out of the kitchen. She did not turn, and therefore did not see the grin spreading slowly over Molly's face.

She found him in Ron's bedroom, telling him, Harry and Hermione that dinner was ready. She let the children pass him, then stood in the doorway as if daring him to try to pass. "Remus, I want to talk with you."

"About what, Nymphadora?" he asked, sounding more tired than she had ever heard him. He looked defeated, shoulders slumped and weary, as if he wouldn't challenge her even if he wanted to. She decided to use that to her advantage in this conversation.

"About us," she said shortly.

"There is no us."

"Well, I think there should be." She walked over to him until she was right in front of him. "This is stupid, Remus. I'm not happy, you're not happy. This is doing neither of us any good. All I can ever think about is how you are, where you are. Merlin, Remus, did you think we could just cut this off, never see each other again and it be done? I'm in love with you!" she fairly shouted as he tried to turn away from her. "Don't you turn from me, you selfish little prat!" She was trembling now, unable to control the pitch or tone of her voice, but she was beyond caring. She would say what she had to say, and if he couldn't deal with it that was just too bloody bad.

"We shouldn't be doing this," rasped Remus, looking everywhere but down at her face. "Molly – Arthur – the children –"

"Oh, bollocks," shouted Tonks, grabbing his arm and pulling out her wand. "We will have this conversation, Remus Lupin!"

In the next moment, she and Remus were standing in her bedroom. He looked around, realizing that he was trapped. "Dammit, Tonks, you could have splinched us both in your state," he muttered, pulling away from him and striding towards the door.

"Mobulus!" Tonks shouted, sending her bureau sliding in front of the door. "You are not leaving until you talk to me!"

"Tonks, there is nothing for me to say to you," Remus sighed resignedly.

"Well, I have plenty to say to you," she announced, riding the adrenaline of her emotions. "Have you seen me? Really seen me in the last few months, Remus? I can't do this anymore. I can't listen to your excuses and all the bollocks you threw at me when you walked away. I know it wasn't true. I know it." If it was, it would be more devastating than what he had already done. She grabbed her hair, pulling it towards him. "See this? This is me, Remus. No morphing. I can't. I can't even bloody change my nose for fun. Why do you think that is?"

Remus swallowed hard, staring at her hair as if it were a snake. "I – I don't know."

"Oh, you bloody well do, Remus," she hissed, her hands clenched in fists at her sides. "I can't even have a good trip down the bloody stairs anymore! You've destroyed me, Remus," she cried, her voice catching as she was consumed by an anger and sorrow so deep she could hardly breathe with its intensity. She raised her fists and started whaling at his chest. "And I want to hate you but I can't! I can't, I – oh Merlin!" She began sobbing in earnest as he grabbed her wrists to fend off her attack. "I love you, you stupid git!"

Remus wrapped his arms around her as she sunk to the floor. "I'm so sorry," he rasped as she cried into his chest. "I never meant to hurt you."

"Touch me, Remus," she gasped urgently. "Please, please, I need you to touch me."

And suddenly his lips were crushing hers with a passion so intense that she saw stars for a moment. She recovered quickly, returning the kiss with equal passion. Their hands were all over each other, touching every part of one another as if for the first and last time, feeling for what seemed like the first time in months. The numbness had been replaced by an aching desire that neither of them could control. Remus picked her up with a strength she didn't know he still possessed, not breaking the kiss as he took her to the bed and laid her down. Their clothes were discarded in a matter of moments, and now as their skin connected the ache of desire turned into a need that was so physically painful they both moaned. She could feel him, growing harder and ready for her, even as a hot ball of lust bloomed in her groin and flowed between her legs, waiting for him.

Their lovemaking had been many things in the past – gentle and slow, teasing, playful, fast and frenetic. But never had it had this kind of desperation and urgency, like if they should let each other go they would fly away into the darkness. His hands were like fire on her skin, igniting everything they touched, and all that could be heard were the pants and gasps of two people who needed each other beyond any comprehension. She heard him groan as he pushed inside her, uniting them as one for these brief moments they had together. All thoughts of what had been, what would be were pushed aside as they came together, clinging to one another desperately. He moaned her name, her full first name, into her hair as he poured himself into her, and never had it sounded more sweet.

They did not move for a very long time, her head on his chest and their legs twined together, each listening to the other breathe in the darkness. Finally, Tonks broke the silence.

"Thank you."

She felt Remus shift underneath her, and his hand stroked the hair, still mousy brown, back from her face. "I shouldn't have let that happen," he murmered.

Tonks looked up at his face. She couldn't read it, but she had a pretty good idea of what was going on in that brain of his. "I am not sure I would have given you much choice," she said frankly.

"Dora, we can't – it doesn't change –"

"I know," she said softly, and she did. Tomorrow, he would be back with the pack, leaving her with excuses involving his furry little problem, his age, his finances. Right now, she didn't care. Without a doubt, she knew the words Molly had spoken in the kitchen were true. She couldn't give up on him – on them – because no matter what he said, Remus Lupin still loved her. That nasty little doubt in her mind that maybe, just maybe she was wrong, maybe he didn't care for her like she did for him, was swept away, leaving only the determination that no matter how fast he ran, she could be faster.

"Could you just hold me for a little while, Remus?"

In response, he gathered her in his arms, holding her as though she were a precious gift, one that may break if he wasn't careful. She smiled a little at the thought. He so often forgot that inside that small body there was a toughness that could not be broken, one that would prove his undoing it he end.

When she awoke the next morning, he was walking out the door. She sat up in the bed, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. "You weren't even going to say goodbye?" she asked, causing him to turn and look at her.

"I thought this way might be easier," he said. She didn't know if he meant for her or himself, or both.

"Nothing about this is easy, Remus."

"Nymphadora." So he was back to her full name. "You need to move on. I have nothing left to give you." He looked at her and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."

She waited for him to go out the door and shut it behind him. "I'm sorry, too," she muttered. "Because I am not going to leave you alone. Not now, not ever."

She rolled out of bed, a sudden sharp pain in her right arm making her stop short. When she looked down, she saw the beginnings of a large bruise forming on her wrist. It was in the shape of Remus' palm. Unexpectedly, she felt herself begin to smile in earnest for the first time in a while. It was the first bruise she had gotten since he left her standing in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, alone and broken. She inspected the place on her arm, wincing a little as she fingered the outline of his hand, a symbol of their desperate encounter the night before.

Suddenly, she was very glad indeed that she could not cover this one up.