I know it's been a while and I'm sorry! Please enjoy!
Chapter Six: Swallowing Furniture
'Concentrate, lass!'
Tonks gasped as Mad-Eye doubled his attack on her mind, peeling through the outer layers and reaching the very deepest recesses of her consciousness. She was reminded of her Auror training, where a daily bout of legilimency had always been on the cards, with a ruthless Moody trying to induce the ever elusive, 'intrinsic' ability that was occlumency. Tonks tried to concentrate; to clear her mind of everything that Mad-Eye was attempting to force to the surface. Memories from her childhood; feelings that she had buried for various boys during her years at Hogwarts; the contentment that she had always felt at home; the frustration towards her overbearing mother, and the love.
'Take it easy, Mad-Eye, she looks like she's about to turn into my mother.'
She heard Sirius' amused voice through the haze of her memories, and immediately resented his presence. Was everyone here to witness the extremely embarrassing spectacle that was her occlumency skills? Frustration bubbled to the surface of her mind; she was supposed to be good at this. Her job for the Order depended on it.
Moody released her mind with an angry growl. 'You've let yourself get out of the habit of using occlumency!' he told her angrily, striding across the room, pacing, his wooden leg clattering on the dusty floor. 'Too many young Aurors forget the skill because they don't need to use it very often. You should practice all the time, girl. Even when no one's trying to use legilimency.'
'Well, it doesn't help,' Tonks gritted her teeth tightly, 'that you're doing the equivalent of trying to pry my skull open with a crowbar.'
They were in an old drawing room on the second floor of Grimmauld Place. The past week had been devoted to trying to help Tonks prepare for her newest job for the Order; to act as though she were following the movements of several Order members, while throwing the Ministry off the Order's scent at the same time. Sirius had plonked himself happily in a dusty armchair to survey the occlumency practice which Moody had insisted she needed. Remus was leaning heavily against one of the bookshelves, his gaze intent on Mad-Eye, but otherwise neutral. He hadn't spoken a word, and had simply watched. To be truthful, his presence had made Tonks a little self conscious about her out of practice skills.
'You have to perfect your occlumency skills, Tonks,' Moody continued. 'Scrimgeour is going to be looking for any way in, and you need to be constantly vigilant about his attempts to extract information. One slip up, and you could bring the entire Order down. Is that what you want?'
'Yes,' Tonks ranted sarcastically. 'Yes, Mad-Eye, that's exactly what I want. I want to be crap at occlumency and ruin Dumbledore's hard work, send the Ministry into disarray and ruin my career. Oh, and you know what else I want? I want you forcing my mind open every evening of the week with force that no one else is capable of, that's completely impossible to fight against, no matter how strong my occlumency is. Yes, that's my idea of a perfect day.'
'Don't be insolent,' Moody growled, louder than she had ever heard. 'I'm helping you. You need practice.'
'Well, I'm taking a break,' Tonks snarled, and plonked herself decisively in a creaky armchair, without any pretence of waiting for permission.
She had equated her bad mood to the lack of sleep that she had been catching recently, and the approaching cold virus that she could feel scratching restlessly at the back of her throat. Truth be told, she was more than a little upset by Remus' recent withdrawal from her. It had been a week and a half since she had entered his room and opened her big mouth. She had made him feel uncomfortable; of that she was certain, but she had hoped that, being Remus, he would continue their friendship and partnership as usual in order to spare her further embarrassment and upset.
He had not continued as she had predicted, but has instead retreated back to the gentle but cool and impassive man that she had known when she had first joined the Order. He did not make any moves to seek her out during meetings, and on the rare occasion that he ended up sitting near her during the Meetings, his eyes did not stray to hers as they used to. Clearly, he was displeased by her obviously scary lurches into friendship and her blind ramblings about developing a closer relationship.
As a result of his recent impassivity, his sudden presence at her occlumency practice with Mad-Eye – which the old man had insisted on her attending every night of the week since she had been given her new assignment from Scrimgeour, despite already possessing decent occlumency skills – had surprised her. He had not spoken; had merely settled himself against the library wall and watched with a slight frown on his face. Sirius often sat with her, much to her annoyance, and watched Moody repeatedly break into her mind with the same engrossed expression that her father used to wear when he watched the Muggle Television.
Tonks brought herself back to the present. Mad-Eye was muttering angrily under his breath and taking small swigs from his hip-flask, shaking his silver hair back from his face while he paced the room. Tonks ignored him, aware that her expression would put a sulking child to shame.
'Alastor...'
Tonks had become so used to his silence that she jumped slightly as she heard Remus' quiet voice break the uneasy silence in the room. She even thought that it sounded a little more hoarse than usual, perhaps from disuse? No, she was thinking too much...
'What?' Mad-Eye snarled, whipping around in his agitated state to fix Remus with one of his trademark stares. Tonks had frequently been on the receiving end, and as a result was immune to the expression which would have grown men running for their mothers. She rolled her eyes.
Remus seemed as unaffected as she felt. 'Tonks has had quite enough practice for one night, don't you think? It won't do any good to wear her mind out before she even gets started. Be reasonable.'
Tonks' heart lurched heavily at his gentle defence. She hadn't needed it exactly; she could deal with Moody on her own, but it was the fact that he cared enough to stick up for her that weakened her knees and made her face burn.
'M'alright,' she mumbled, suddenly embarrassed and not wanting to seem weak.
Mad-Eye had begun to bristle with pure fury, his grizzled face pulsing with blood underneath his skin. He took a deep breath and seemed to calm himself slightly. Perhaps, Tonks though with a casual grin, in case anyone was trying to use legilimency on him.
Oh, this was too good an opportunity to miss. 'Careful, Mad-Eye,' she said, without really being aware of speaking the words. 'Don't want to wear your emotions, do you? Makes you susceptible to legilimency, you know.'
A growl erupted from Mad-Eye's throat and he turned to her. 'Fine, lass,' he all but shouted. 'If you're too arrogant and lazy to practice then I'll be leaving, shall I? I expect a full report on how your meeting with Scrimgeour goes. And good luck; heaven knows you'll need it.'
And with that uncharacteristic outburst hanging in the air, he limped from the room, his wooden leg clunking heavily on the polished wood flooring.
Tonks looked after him, gaping; shame washing over her in waves that stained her face red and travelled up the roots of her hair until she was certain that had gone red too. She looked away, trying to maintain the pretence of anger to avoid Sirius and Remus seeing the hot embarrassment welling at the back of her eyes.
'Well, that was entertaining,' Sirius yawned, and Tonks heard him rise from his own creaky armchair and stretch. 'I better go and make sure Molly hasn't changed my kitchen into something from Domestic Witch Weekly.'
She heard him leave the room and half expected Remus to follow, but she heard no evidence of him doing so. With her head turned away, she couldn't see where exactly he was. He must be still leaning against the wall, his expression mild as ever. The tears of shame were beginning to sting the back of her eyes, more insistent than ever. She could suddenly see, with awful clarity, just how childish she was being. Mad-Eye was only trying to help her; the Order relied on her not to mess this up and her occlumency was well below par.
It was cold in the room; no fire had been lit, and the sun had lowered and tucked itself behind the horizon, casting the room with a grey ambience. It matched her mood and did nothing to dispel the gloom. Remus hadn't yet moved, as far as she could tell, and she sniffed, trying to break through the barrier of her blocked nose. She needed her bed.
Another long, awkward spell of pure silence followed and Tonks became too agitated and simply had to break it. 'I know; he's only trying to help,' she admitted scornfully, inviting Remus to begin whatever he had been waiting to say.
'Yes, he is,' Remus agreed, offering no more.
It was so bloody maddening that she turned her head, conjuring up her best challenging stare in an attempt to coax more words from him.
'And you think I'm being childish?' she offered, her face hard.
It occurred to her to morph her face into something slightly more severe and difficult to challenge, but found that her resolve weakened when she met his eyes.
His features were shadowed in the almost darkness of the drawing room, making the hollows of his cheeks stand out and the lines around his mouth seem endless in depth. His lips were pursed in something that could have been disapproval, making the contours of his face somehow more handsome. She couldn't see his eyes exactly, in the poor light, but the faint light of the ever growing moon glinted off them, which shone out from the shadows of his face as vividly as she tried to make her hair. A growth of stubble had been left to grow slightly longer than he usually left it. Perhaps he was stressed? Tired? Ill?
Remus shifted slightly, pushing himself away from his leaning position and letting his long arms unfold. He was clad in a large, slightly threadbare grey jumper, which hung from his thin frame heavily. Tonks empathised with his choice of clothing and picked at the large, lurid green jumped that she had bundled on under her work-robes that morning, overcome by the coldest day since autumn had begun.
'No,' he sighed, rubbing a palm across his face. 'I don't think you're being childish.'
Tonks looked down at the slightly scratchy wool of her jumper and pulled her legs up onto the chair, the frame protesting with a violent screech that broke the quiet of the room. The jumper was long enough to tuck over her knees, which were becoming cold through the long rips in her jeans. She couldn't remember if she had bought them in that state, or if the rips were a result of one of her clumsy falls.
'Alastor can be a difficult man to understand,' he offered gently, his voice so low it almost became a part of the night. 'He is trying to help you, but I fear that his endeavours may be a little...misguided.'
That ensnared a beast within her chest. 'What? So you think I'm a lost cause? Hopeless and incapable of listening and being taught? Do I have to remind you that I've already been through all of this for Auror training and that I passed? People seem to forget that I know what I'm doing. But of course, I'm not a valid Order member, because I trip over my own feet and embarrass myself. We can't all be cool and composed all of the time, you know. We're not all Remus Lupin.'
The moment she had finished, and drawn a huge breath, she realised that once again, she had been host to the child within her.
'No, you're not Remus Lupin; something which I remain eternally relieved about,' he replied shortly, but still somehow gently. How did he do that? Perhaps it was the husky lilt of his voice or the way that his voice never seemed to venture above a certain volume.
Tonks didn't have a clue as to how to respond, so settled for a short, disbelieving snort that sounded rude when it came out. She heard the soft sounds of Remus' shoes as he made his way to her chair. She averted her eyes, her face beginning to flame violently. She heard his knees crack as he crouched down in front of her, and could feel his eyes on her face. She was certain that he must be able to hear her heart, with the way that it was pounding in contrast to the all but silent room.
'I'm glad you're Nymphadora Tonks, for what it's worth,' he all but whispered.
Tonks let her breath free from its surroundings, unable to meet his eyes, suddenly very aware of how un-ladylike her curled up position on the chair must look, and how the jumper that she had tucked over her knees had a stain from her lunch.
Perhaps this was some kind of apology for being so cold with her recently? His way of gently reintroducing the friendship that they had previously enjoyed? Had this been why he had watched her practice with Moody so avidly? To make amends?
'I'm glad you're Remus too, Remus,' she smiled slightly, the first genuine smile all day. She heard his slight, low chuckle.
'I'm glad we're both glad that we're both who we are,' he jested in response, and Tonks finally had the courage to look up into his face, both of her sweaty hands clutching her knees tightly.
His eyes held the gentleness that she had missed so during their days of professional detachment. He looked a little tired, perhaps, but it could have been the way the light – or lack of it – played on the shadows beneath his eyes.
She was about to say I'm sorry, but he interrupted her. 'Perhaps I can help you with occlumency?'
Tonks raised her eyebrows in surprise and asked 'What?'
'Alastor may be a little ruthless. Scrimgeour wouldn't dare to use such a strong, obvious force against you. Would you like me to try?'
Tonks hesitated, aware of the barrage of feelings that he could encounter if she let her defences down. But equally, she didn't want him to think that her occlumency was lacking. If she could close her feelings down to Remus, then she could surely manage to ward off Scrimgeour's attacks?
'Alright,' Tonks agreed, sitting up slightly straighter. 'Hit me with your worst, Lupin.'
He looked amused. She met his eyes intently as a prompt for him to begin. His lips pressed together slightly more tightly and the small line between his eyebrows deepened.
And she felt it; the small little nudge at the centre of her mind, trying to grasp at passing thoughts. Tonks breathed deeply, in and out as she had been taught and thought of nothing but static noise; the kind that her old broken wireless used to make until she had kicked it into silence. She could feel him grapple a little harder inside her mind and worked intently to keep it blank and unthinking. She even managed to keep the swooping feeling from soaring through her lower stomach at the sight of Remus' eyes trained so intently on hers.
His presence in her mind felt so different in comparison to anyone else's. It was soft and gentle; tempting. In a way, it was more deadly in that it leads you into a false sense of comfort and warmth.
'Auror Tonks,' Remus said, a smile playing on his lips, his voice imitating Scrimgeour's. 'Are you trying to deceive the almighty Ministry of Magic?'
Tonks fought the burst of laughter which erupted from her throat and replied. 'No, sir, I'm not. I am a devoted member of your Auror squad and would never think to deceive someone as devilishly handsome as the Minister for Magic.'
'Handsome, you say? As handsome as the Head of the Auror department; I, Rufus Scrimgeour?' Remus asked with a mock-affronted look on his face.
'Oh, no, sir,' Tonks replied, keeping the blankness in her mind as Remus rooted around for lies. 'You surpass all men in terms of handsomeness, sir. In fact, I may need to have you right here in your office.'
Remus broke eye contact as he looked down, with almost a shy grin. The connection severed and Tonks let out a relieved breath. He looked back up at her, meeting her eyes this time without the invasion of her mind. 'Good,' he told her gently, with a kind smile. 'Good job, Tonks. I think you'll be just fine during your meeting with Scrimgeour.'
'Hope so,' Tonks agreed, wiping her sweaty palms discreetly against her jumper.
'I have faith in you,' Remus told her firmly.
'Thanks,' she replied, and was shocked by the timidity of her own voice.
'And,' he continued and she held her breath and waited. 'I apologise...for being so unfriendly the past few days. It was undeserved...I'm sorry, Tonks.'
The tears sprang back to her eyes, this time of happiness and relief. Unable to resist amidst her newfound happiness, Tonks gave a relieved cry of 'oh, Remus!' and flung her arms around him. In hindsight, she would have lowered her legs from her squashed position in the chair. Her knees connected with the hard plane of his chest and he let out a little ooff of surprise but didn't move from her embrace. The only way, Tonks decided, to avoid a clumsy parting and a muttered apology would be to hold onto him as though the awkward positioning of her legs were something she intended. So, she did just that, folding her hands into the surprisingly soft wool of his jumper and burying her chin and mouth in his hard shoulder. She could feel the soft vibrations of him chuckling slightly and hoped that he didn't find her utterly ridiculous.
But then she felt some of the tension in him ease and shivered slightly as one of his long fingered hands cupped the back of her neck, his thumb playing across a small, soft tuft on the top of her head where her hair had been forming a rebellion all day.
And then, quite suddenly, urgency seemed to be instilled within him. He tensed up once more and pulled her, for the first time, closer of his own accord. His arms – both of them – wrapped tightly around her back and for a moment, it scared her. Was he, calm and collected Remus Lupin – scared? He gently urged her legs down into a more sensible position so that he could kneel between them and cradle her more fully against his chest. Such embrace must be a rarity to him, she concluded, and he tightened his arms so far that she could feel the thumping of his heart against her chest.
Tonks gently tapped him on the shoulder, staring at his ear as though it held the secret to all of his mysterious problems. 'Remus? You alright?'
He nodded and made to release her, but she held onto him with all the strength in her arms and legs.
'Tonks,' he began. 'It seems you have me in quite the choke hold...'
'Auror training,' she explained. 'Page twenty three in the Auror's handbook.'
'In the chapter concerning hugs?'
'Mad-Eye's idea,' she agreed seriously. 'He looked at the book and thought to himself; there should be a chapter on how to hug in a way that simultaneously immobilises the hug-receiver.'
'Ah,' he chuckled, and gently prised her away from him. 'Well you seem to be perfectly capable of the skill. But I am afraid that my blood is rather demanding its right to flow through my shoulders.'
'Sorry,' she sighed, and released her hold on him.
'No bother,' he laughed gently and fixed her with a gentle gaze.
In some slushy romance novel this would be the point where Tonks would lean forwards; their lips would meet, followed by declarations of undying affection and a scandalous lack of clothes. She knew from the moment that she had first read one of her mother's romantic paperbacks in her early teen years that she would never quite be able to pull of the spontaneous acts of affection and would never quite perfect the art of lunging in for a kiss from a distance without bumping noses. And besides, she was perfectly content to just have him back, in all his Remus-y spirit. He wasn't angry at her and, in true gentlemanly fashion; he had taken responsibility for their awkward patch. Her shoulders felt relaxed for the first time in a good while, and she couldn't help grinning ear to ear.
Remus cupped the side of her face fondly, his palm rough and warm against her cheek. For a moment of pure wishful thinking, she imagined that he was about to kiss her, but his smile wasn't quite intimate enough for that and his eyes were firmly rooted into her own, rather than flitting down to her mouth.
'Remus?'
Had something happened to make him seem so abruptly needy of her?
'Are you sure you're alright?'
His mouth tightened a little in disapproval and he moved his hand away from her face, leaving her skin cool and lonely where it had previously been warm. 'I'm fine, Nymphadora.'
The resolute use of her first name stung a little, but she knew better than to keep challenging him, especially when he was being so unguarded for a change. Molly's words of wisdom crept up on her, about how the tensions of war instilled a fear in people that made them instinctively home in on love and affection. What had Remus done in the previous war, when he had been younger? Had there been someone for him to love? A friend? A lover? Girlfriend? He could have been married and widowed for all she knew about his past, but something in the way that he was told her that he wasn't one to open to love easily, which made her dubious about any apparent affection he may show towards herself.
Secretly, Tonks had hoped that a simple 'are you alright' would trigger some barrage of emotions which would come spilling out of his mouth like wandfire, and answer all of her questions. It could never be that easy.
The room had grown darker around them, happening so gradually that it had crept up of them soundlessly and without realisation that they were not sitting in a nearly pitch black room. Remus took out his wand and hastily cast a fire in the fireplace, lighting a few of the lamps in turn. The warm glow wasn't too much, but still made her eyes sting slightly. It brought her back to herself too, and she was suddenly more aware of the stain on her jumper and the state of her jet-black hair, which seemed to have darkened with the withdrawal of the sun.
With a small crack coming from somewhere around his knees, he stood and took a seat, not too far away from her, but still far enough away to made her stomach drop with disappointment.
'I'm afraid my knees aren't what they used to be,' he smiled, and she detected a hint of bitterness in his tone.
Or did he simply have the overwhelming desire to get away from her?
'Are you going to tell me why you were in such a bad mood with Alastor?' he enquired casually, in a tone that she could imagine him using in the classroom; would you care to tell me why you have a flobberworm living inside your pocket? Are you going to tell me why you're chewing gum in my class? Are you going to tell me why you didn't come to detention yesterday?
Tonks sighed dramatically and pulled her knees up again, slightly hindered by the tightness of her outdated jeans. 'Mad-Eye expects me to be superwoman,' she explained.
'Who?' Remus enquired lightly.
Tonks giggled. 'Doesn't matter. He expects too much of me; I can't possibly have any flaws because I'm his student and Mad-Eye's students don't fail.'
'Flaws don't necessarily implicate failure,' Remus reminded her, leaning forwards, elbows resting on his knees.
And so they talked, mostly about her, despite her questions regarding him. He answered barely any of them; only offering, as always, the briefest insight into what his life was really like underneath the gentle eyes and hollowed out bone structure. He seemed to her like an endless night, stretching on and on so deep and wide that she began to give up any hope of making it through to morning, where she might glimpse something of value about his life. There was an irresistible sincerity in him, however. Despite his tendency towards being a private man, she knew that the kindness and gentility was no charade, and was the only true reflection of the man who had put up so many barriers it was impossible to see deeper.
Tonks eyes began to droop. It was extremely late; she could sense it. But it was a Sunday the next day and, thank god, she wasn't expected in the office until Monday, with a full report on what she had 'found' about Remus, Emmeline and Dung.
Talking with him soothed her soul into a state where she felt utterly content, relaxed and accepted.
'Remus?' she asked, suddenly feeling bold. 'How did your parents react when you were first bitten?'
Remus looked hesitant, but answered. Perhaps he felt as though his childhood was sufficiently long ago to talk about. 'They were extremely frightened, of course, but very brave nonetheless. They accepted the task I presented as a simple twist of fate; meant to be and something that would shape me into the man I would become. My father used to make jokes about my lycanthropy. Some would have thought them cruel and teasing but...it was perfectly fine and just what I needed. I needed to feel human. And they let me.'
Tonks didn't know when exactly she fell asleep, but she remembered her last thoughts of the night, imagining what an infant Remus would look like in his first ever Hogwarts robes, carrying his newly purchased spell books and a dark secret.
'Professor Lupin?'
Remus, her potions master, who was floating on what seemed to be nothing more than air, looked up from his desk. He had spectacles similar to Dumbledore. Odd; Remus didn't wear glasses, did he? And she had been away from Hogwarts for years. No, was that just for the summer? Wasn't she in her third year?
'Yes, Nymphadora?'
And then, quite suddenly, her robes had disappeared, leaving her sitting in only the lacy underwear that her Jenny Marble had bought her for her eighteenth birthday. Tonks shrieked and tried to cover herself up, only succeeding in attracting more attention from her fellow peers. She cringed amidst excitable whispers; I told you she fancied him and she made her robes disappear in class? How desperate is she? She's far too young for him to notice; it wouldn't be right!
And then, quite suddenly, the room was empty, and she was perched on the edge of his desk, his glasses gone, his hair rumpled and his eyes dark. She was clad in a shorter version of her Auror's uniform; was she an Auror? But she was at Hogwarts wasn't she?
Oh, who cared? Remus was pushing the hem of her robes up and crushing her lips against his and –
Tonks?
'Tonks?'
'Oi! Tonks?'
'Arghh!' Tonks felt the words leave her mouth, dry and confused. The voice rousing her belonged to Sirius. What was Sirius doing in her flat? Had something bad happened? Had someone died?
And then her neck screamed with tension and she opened her eyes blearily to find herself bathed in the cool morning light of the drawing room in Grimmauld Place. She was curled up at an awkward angle in the creaky armchair that she had fell asleep in and her head had been lolling to the side for the entire night, by the feel of it. Sirius was looking extremely smug, leaning against the doorframe. She could see him from a strange angle which made it seem as though the whole room had tilted slightly on its axis.
'Whatever you're going to say; it's too early,' she croaked at her cousin, squinting.
'You look comfortable,' Sirius snorted. 'He could have at least been a charming gentleman and carried you to a spare room. Still, at least he made a bit of an effort.'
Tonks looked down at herself and noticed that her feet were not squashed up under her legs but were in fact propped up on an ancient looking footstool. And, touchingly, Remus seemed to have draped a thick blanket over her. It smelt like male aftershave and soap and she wondered fleetingly, blushing, if it was from Remus' bed. There was no sign of Remus, she realised, and supposed that he must have gone to his own room in the house to sleep, after tucking her in.
'What time is it?' Tonks asked, her head thumping. 'And what are you doing here? Bugger off.'
'I think you'll find, dear cousin, that this is my house. And it's eight in the morning. Do you really want to go back to sleep in that chair? I'm pretty sure it's charmed to eat sleeping maidens. My mother wouldn't want anyone to sleep in her house; you were awake and hating muggleborns or you were swallowed by furniture.'
Tonks snorted and sat up more fully, her back creaking slightly. She groaned.
Sirius laughed. 'Come on; Remus is cooking breakfast. You'll need some food before you go on patrol.'
Tonks stifled the urge to groan in annoyance; she had forgotten that she was on duty guarding the Department of Mysteries with Remus. It wasn't strictly a job that needed two people, but Tonks had insisted they work as a team simply to alleviate the boredom that came with the tedious task. Once in a while, someone would venture down there, sometimes by accident, sometimes simply staring vaguely at the entrance door. Tonks had acquainted herself with the faces of all of the workers in the Department of Mysteries as they entered and left. They were always vague, mysterious people who she saw roaming around the Ministry sometimes looking deep in thought with wild hair as though they had more profound things to think about in the mornings than combing their hair.
She followed Sirius down the two flights of stairs and into the kitchen, where the smell of bacon washed over her like home. She had never thought of Remus as a man who would be able to cook, but he looked thoroughly content standing by the stove, a fresh white shirt on, bacon crackling in the pan in front of him. He looked up as she came in and smiled, looking amused. She self-consciously patted down her bed hair and tried to morph away the morning-pallor of her skin.
'Good morning, Tonks. Tea?'
'Hmm, would be lovely, thanks Remus.'
She wanted to thank him for covering her up last night and propping her feet up and caring for her, but didn't dare in front of Sirius, who already seemed to be fizzing with the possibility of teasing them both.
'So,' Sirius said as soon as they were all sat down, a bacon sandwich in front of each of them. 'You two didn't put my mother's drawing room to ill use last night, did you?'
Tonks choked on the bacon and flushed deeply. 'No, git.'
'That's a shame,' he grinned boyishly.
They finished breakfast with a calm, relaxed air, the heat draining from Tonks face as she realised that most of her worries from the past few days were gone, and that she and Remus were once again on the familiar yet precarious footing that she had so missed. And, to her delight, she would get to spend the entire afternoon with him guarding the Department of Mysteries under the invisibility cloak, side by side like they used to sit and watch Harry when the summer was still hot and Remus was a virtual stranger to her.
And suddenly it didn't matter that it was a cold morning or that Tonks' neck felt as though it had been cursed to inflict as much pain upon her as possible. The sun was shining outside and the possibility that maybe, just maybe Remus cared for her filled her up like she was a schoolgirl again. And she let herself feel foolish and young and light, powerless to resist.
To be continued...
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