A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who read/reviewed last chapter! You guys are fabulous.

Like I said in the last author's note, this one has a canon event. I'll be attempting to sprinkle in how the events of GoF would effect Remus, Tonks, and eventually Sirius as the story goes on. I'm not an expert on this book, though (it's been a while since I read it), so if there're any mistakes in the timeline please let me know and I'll try to fix them!

Also, trigger warning: this chapter contains mention of abuse/torture, as consistent with the atrocities committed during the first wizarding war. Nothing is described in detail but I just wanted everyone to be warned!

Chapter 10 is dedicated to Hannah, Guest, StrawberryFields, and Meerkat, who I couldn't PM to thank for their wonderful reviews on chapter 9. Thanks so much, you guys!

Chapter 10 - A Hellish Night

August 22nd, 1994

When Nymphadora Tonks had first decided to become an Auror, she'd been a grief-stricken fifth year with an intense and completely irrational goal of somehow avenging her sister's death, which at that point she'd still associated with Death Eaters. She'd fantasised about catching dark wizards and witches and righting the wrongs done by so many people that she'd considered pure evil. She'd fantasised about somehow negating the atrocities some of her own family members had committed. Most of all, she'd fantasised about being strong and powerful and in control, when at the time she'd been anything but.

Now, as she stands, dazed and trembling, having just been cleared to leave the scene of her first real exposure to the sorts of things she thought she'd be dealing with when she'd decided to become an Auror, she wonders what the hell she'd been thinking. She knows, rationally, that she hadn't been, not really; at 15, she'd set a career path for herself based on an insatiable desire to feel better.

Six years later, at 21, having just witnessed first hand what her job can–and, she thinks darkly, most likely will–be, she thinks that she really should've done a better job thinking that one out. She's ashamed to be practically agreeing with her mother, of all people, but still. She's too in shock to give that much thought.

She shakes her head at herself, trying desperately to focus on doing something. If she doesn't, she'll continue to stand here, stunned and horrified, and she's not sure it'll be too long before she completely falls to pieces. She's barely holding it together right now as it is, and she knows it's only a matter of time before things go to absolute shit. And, for once, she knows that she should be around someone when that happens. Because this feels like it's going to be big.

She takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm herself down. She hadn't realised, a few seconds ago, quite how freaked out she is. But now, now that it's quiet and Mad-Eye's told her to go home and she's not in constant motion, she has time to consider what she's just seen. And she's pretty sure she'd rather be running around doing something, because now that she's not, she's on the brink of a full-out panic attack.

Forcing her feet to move one after another, Tonks makes her way towards a disapparition point. A ward had been put up early on, though it'd been too late to be very effective, and she knows it ends at the fence up ahead. She tries not to look at her surroundings as she makes her way there.

Focus, Tonks. She thinks to herself. Figure out where you're going. You can't be alone right now. If you have a panic attack and you're alone it'll be bad news.

She shakes her head, clenching and unclenching her fists in an unconscious attempt to restore circulation to her hands. She knows she's got to find company; the only question is who.

Her parents are out. 100%, completely out.

For one, her dad would freak out and want her to talk about it, which she probably should do but doesn't want to with him. She's never been comfortable talking to him about these sorts of things–things that involve Cassie. There are certain things she can't admit to him.

Besides, her mum'd lose it. And she can't deal with that right now, can't deal with I told you it'd be like this and I warned you it'd be too much. The doubts are present enough in her mind; she doesn't need her mum to intensify them any more.

So her parents are definitely out.

There's always Jane, she supposes, but Jane's probably at home asleep with Will, and that is so not something she feels comfortable interrupting. Even though she likes Will, she isn't that comfortable around him, and she can't very well go to their house at midnight and expect him to let her have alone time with his wife. And Jane's grumpy when she's woken up, anyway.

Mike's in Romania (she swears he spends more time there than here these days), so he's out. She'd go to Proudfoot or Mad-Eye, but they've both just left here and it wouldn't feel right. Besides, she's already battling an inferiority complex about her ability to preform as an Auror, and going to one of them in this state when they're probably fine would only add to that, especially if it was Mad-Eye. And she's completely clueless about Proudfoot's personal life–for all she knows, he's at home curled up with a girlfriend or fiancée or something and that would be so excruciatingly awkward she can't even think about it.

That leaves Remus.

She hesitates.

Half of her loves the idea of going to Remus.

The other half hates it.

The part of her that loves the idea argues that he's basically a god at making her calm down and feel safe. He just has that affect on her. She's always calm around him–well, if you ignore the whole awkward crush bit. And, half of her reasons, he's the only person she knows besides Mad-Eye who'll get it. Besides, she's not technically allowed to discuss what's happened with anyone yet because the case is still classified, but she knows she can tell Remus because Mad-Eye probably would anyway. (And, she thinks grimly, it's not as if the Ministry will be able to keep something of this scale under wraps for very long.)

The other half of her worries about–well, pretty much everything, actually. Half of her worries that it's absurd to assume she can show up at his flat in the middle of the night so soon after a full moon just because she needs to talk. She's worried it's presumptuous (and, half of her grumbles, look where being presumptuous got you last time), or that she'll somehow be overextending the boundaries of their friendship by showing up like this. She's worried about what he'll think of her when he sees how freaked out she is, about how he might assume she's not fit for her job because of it, about how when she explains why she's so upset he'll pretty much have to find out more about Cassie.

She reaches the fence and pauses. She's not thinking clearly, she knows. She really shouldn't make a decision like this right now, but she realises she doesn't really have a decision to make.

She needs to be with someone. Her not-date with Remus last Friday was marvellous, her hands are completely numb at this point from hyperventilating, and really, her choices right now are risk being foolish to see Remus or have a complete breakdown.

Her body basically makes the decision for her and, before she can think more about it, she finds herself on Remus' doorstep. Without giving herself a chance to back down, she knocks on his door, hands shaking pathetically as she brings her knuckles against the worn wood.

She tries to hold her breath as she waits for him, but that just makes her vision swim and damn, she is so close to passing out right now. She braces a hand on his door and is just about to resign herself to visiting her parents when suddenly she's falling. It takes her a moment to realise that it's because he's opened the door and her source of support is moving inward.

She's not entirely sure what happens next. One moment she's stumbling forward, the next Remus has caught her in an awkward hug that would really be better described as a tangle of limbs, and suddenly they're sort of managing to stay upright over the threshold to his flat.

She hadn't realised her ears have been ringing until now, as she struggles to hear his voice over the buzzing.

"Dora?" He's asking. "Dora, are you all right? What happened? Dora? Tonks?"

His tone suggests he's been asking for a few seconds, and the blatant concern and almost panic in his voice give her the energy to respond.

She struggles out of his hold and stands on her own, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm okay, I'm fine, it's fine, everything's fine, it's okay, I'm okay–"

And then suddenly he's ushering her inside and she realises she's crying and there's a door shutting and she's on an absurdly comfortable sofa in a cramped room full of books and she realises she's in Remus' flat for the first time.

Remus is kneeling in front of her, hands braced on her knees in order to meet her eyes as he says, still urgently, "Dora, what's wrong?"

She takes a deep breath, finally able to calm down a bit, and she begins to speak in a voice that's not at all stable. "I'm okay, Remus, I'm fine, really, I'm sorry to wake you, but I'm okay–"

"Dora," he cuts her off, voice a bit sharp, eyes dark with concern, "what happened?"

She takes another deep breath, moving one hand from where it's curled into his robe to her face so she can wipe some of the tears away. "It was–I was at work–well, I wasn't supposed to be, but I was–you see, tonight–there were–Remus, there w-were–I'm sorry, it's so r-rude to show up here, but I just–I didn't know where else to g-go–"

"Dora," he interrupts again, this time less frantically and more bracingly, "from the beginning. You were called into work?"

She nods, blinking a couple of times, trying to figure out how to coherently tell him what happened.

He seems to realise her dilemma, because he repeats, coaxingly, "Start at the beginning, Dora. You were called into work. Why?"

"They needed help. There was an-an incident."

He seems to realise answering questions is the best way to get her to speak, so he prompts, "What kind of incident?"

"Death Eaters," she tries to say, but the words are lost in her throat. She clears it and tries again. "Death Eaters. At the World Cup."

His eyes widen. "Death Eaters?"

She nods, eyes welling with tears. "Remus, it was awful. They were–they had this m-muggle family, and they were levitating them over the c-crowd, and it was–they were screaming, there were children, and it was just like the f-first war all over again–"

"Dora, it's all right," he says, cutting her off, rubbing his hands up and down her shaking arms. She realises, absurdly, that she's holding onto his tatty robe so tightly her nails are digging into the fabric, and instead of being unaware of everything she's suddenly very aware of all the details–the way Remus' flat smells, sort of book-ish and woodsy and like him; how warm it is, despite it being a cold night, and how homey and cozy his flat is; Remus, his eyes alert but the bags underneath betraying how tired he is; his pyjamas, which she might find absurdly attractive or just plain adorable under any other circumstances.

She's feeling a bit disoriented even as she insists, "It's not, Remus, it's bloody not all right!"

Her voice is verging on hysterical now, and her body's doing this weird hyperventilating-while-trying-to-talk thing that's leaving her with too little air. "It w-was the worst s-sort of thing and it was j-just like l-l-last time and there was a Dark Mark, up in the sky, and I n-never thought I'd h-have to s-see that again, and it-it–"

"Shh, Dora," Remus says, and suddenly he's given up trying to calm her down from his position on the floor in front of her and he's beside her, his arms around her, her face somewhere between his shoulder and his neck. "It's all right. It's over. You're safe. You're all right. It's all right."

He repeats these words, over and over, and his voice and his smell and his hand rubbing her back are all somehow fighting the hysteria threatening to consume her. And then suddenly she's taking big, heaving breaths, and the tingling in her hands and legs is subsiding, and in the small part of her brain not freaking out about what she's seen she's relieved that she's coming away from panic attack territory now.

Remus keeps rubbing her back and she tries to focus on her breathing, on how warm she is, on how she's safe. She tries to push what's happened out of her mind, just for now, so that she can calm down a bit. Really, she thinks to herself, she should probably stop freaking out on him. It was bad enough to have come in the middle of the night.

And yet, she doesn't feel so bad about it after all. Remus' face, when she'd told him about the Death Eaters, had made her feel better about her decision to come see him. He, of all people, can understand, she thinks.

Eventually her breathing returns to normal and she stops shaking and collects her thoughts enough to realise Remus is offering her a handkerchief. He doesn't say anything or move at all after she's taken it, and she tries to clean up her face a bit before morphing some of the red away.

Then, she finds herself in an unbearably weird position.

It's funny, really, how it was all well and good as he'd brought her away from her panic attack; she hadn't had time to feel awkward then. But now? Now she has absolutely no idea what to do. It's not like she can just stand up, say a quick thanks, and go home, though that really would be the ideal scenario. Instead, she knows, she's going to have to explain. She feels she owes it to Remus, after everything.

The thing is, she's never told anyone about Cassie before, not really. She's said the facts; that Cassie was her older sister, that she died. But she's never really given anyone the details, not even the ones about their childhood. That was always something her parents had done, something all those mediwitches her mum'd sent her to had already known. She's never had to explain before. And she knows, she really knows, that she will not be able to look at him as she does.

It's just one of those things she can't do. She has a hard enough time making eye contact with people about serious things under normal circumstances–it's one of the reasons she prefers to be bright and bubbly all the time. And it's going to be a million times worse when she talks about Cassie. She knows that.

So instead of sitting up and facing Remus, she begins to talk as she is, with her head half buried in his chest. This way, she won't have to meet his eyes. This way, she won't see his reaction.

"I'm sorry, Remus," she says, and she's pretty proud of how her voice sounds. It's sort of clogged, sure, but she sounds impressively calm, all things considered, and not nearly half as hysterical anymore.

"I shouldn't have shown up like this in the middle of the night, and so soon after the full moon, I just...I didn't know where to go," she says, and it's pretty awkward to be speaking to his shoulder, but she knows she'll thank herself for it later.

"That's–Dora, really, it's all right," he says, and then, "I'm so–it means so much to me that you felt like you could come to me–"

And she gives a little laugh, because really, of course he feels like that, but she says, earnestly, "No, Remus, it was stupid–I wasn't thinking. I just–I couldn't be alone, not after what happened, because–"

She pauses.

Takes a deep breath.

She half panics, wondering whether she should say anything at all, only she feels the need to justify how freaked out she was. After all, most people, had they seen something like she did, wouldn't have got so scared. And it's especially embarrassing because she's an Auror.

Besides, she thinks, it'll be easier if he knows more about Cassie, especially if she has to deal with Death Eaters on a regular basis in the future.

"Because of–" she takes one last deep breath.

"Because of my sister."

It's funny, really, how hard it is for her to get those words out, but the worst is over, she thinks. And now that she's started telling him, she can't seem to stop.

"She was–when we were little, she was taken–um, well, I guess I should explain–she was–well, my mum–"

And Remus says, gently, "From the beginning, Dora."

So she does just that.

"Right. Um, so I had a sister, right? And her name was Cassiopeia. We always used to joke about our names, because we thought mum couldn't have chosen worse ones, and we were always arguing about whose name was more embarrassing. Anyway, we all called her Cassie, and she was–she was amazing. She was my sister, you know? And growing up, my mum was–well, she was raised a Black, and she was kind of–she tried, I know she did, but she was always so cold. And Cassie was just over four years older than me, and she ended up being my mum half the time. She was the one that did my hair and taught me how to dress and told me about Hogwarts when she got to go and I didn't. And she was just–she was incredible. I loved her so much.

"People always used to comment on how alike we looked, on how sweet we were together, and I just adored her. I wanted to be just like her. I used to never morph, because we looked so alike in my natural form, and whatever Cassie did and whatever she liked I did and liked, too. I think I annoyed her a bit, actually."

Tonks smiles fondly, picturing Cassie in her head calling her a copy cat. She pauses for a moment, in the memory, and then continues talking, as if she's just saying it to herself and nobody's there listening.

"My mum's a Black, like I said, and during the war a lot of her relatives–my aunts and uncles–were on You-Know-Who's side. Mum and Dad were always afraid that because of that our family would be targeted. Towards the end of the war, when things were getting really bad, my family went into hiding. Our house was placed under the Fidelius Charm and–well, I was only seven, but I wouldn't speak to my parents for weeks because they left Cassie at Hogwarts. I know they did what they thought was right, but...I don't know. I hated not having her around, and I felt like we'd abandoned her. I know Hogwarts was the safest place, but..."

She pauses, not sure what to say next. It's the first time she's ever admitted something like this to someone. But she had, she had resented her parents, and, ridiculously, to some extent she still does. She knows they only did what they thought was right, but it indirectly cost Cassie her life. At least, that's what she wants to think. Because if she thinks anything else–well, she'd much rather blame her sister's death on her parents' mistake or her aunt's cruelty than on Cassie herself.

"It was Cassie's twelfth birthday when they–when it happened." She pauses, trying to figure out how to say it.

Remus has gone still, and she knows he's doing what she's done so many times before: he's trying not to break the spell. She's sure he's realised by now that she's rubbish at talking about her feelings, just like, to some extent, he is, and she can tell that he's doing all he can to ensure she doesn't stop.

She sighs heavily, forcing herself to say it. She's so close. She's almost there. She's just got to do it.

"It was–it was October. The 14th, to be exact. We'd been in hiding for a few weeks. I remember–ridiculously, I remember that I was making a list of what I wanted for my birthday, which was over a month away, when it happened–he came. Mad-Eye, I mean, not as an Order member but as an Auror. My parents sent me upstairs and I heard lots of crying. Mum was hysterical. And then Dad told me we were going to St. Mungo's.

"They'd found–Bellatrix, and some other Death Eaters–they'd found Cassie, just like Mum'd feared. It was hours before we found out, because nobody knew where we were–they'd had to go through so many people to find our secret keeper–and they weren't sure if Cassie was going to make it.

"I remember Mum and Dad arguing, over whether or not to take me with them to the hospital, but my dad said–I'll never forget–Dad said it could be the last time she ever sees her. So I went. And when we got there–she looked so small, Remus, on the hospital bed, and so white, and it was just–"

She stops, trying to rid the image of Cassie, tiny and white and frail, from her mind. She swallows.

"They saved her, in the end. Mad-Eye told my parents that she was lucky, so lucky, that Aurors had stumbled upon them and found Cassie in time. But they–they tortured her, Remus. She was just–she was just a little girl. And they–"

Her hands curl into Remus' robe again as she tries, desperately, to keep the tears at bay. She doesn't quite succeed, but after a few long moments of breathing deeply she keeps talking. She's desperate, at this point, to finish the story. She just wants him to understand.

"When she woke up, weeks later, she didn't remember any of it. The Healers explained that she'd probably disassociated the memories–after all, the spell didn't affect her brain, so it had to be her–and mum took me aside and told me that Cassie had got into an accident at school. She fell down the stairs. That's what mum said." She gives a bitter and slightly hysterical laugh. "That was the best they could come up with. And at the time I didn't understand what was going on and I-I believed them.

"For years, Remus, I believed them, until I was in my third year and Cassie was in her seventh she started–she got really depressed. She started having nightmares, and she stopped smiling, and at first she'd talk to me, tell me that she was having these dreams and that she thought she was going crazy, and I didn't-I didn't realise that they weren't dreams at all, they were memories, and they drove her insane, because she thought she was making it all up, and she kept begging me not to tell Mum and Dad, because she was afraid she was turning bad, like our aunts, and she just–she wasn't the same."

Tonks pauses, wondering how to keep going. She doesn't want to finish the story. There's the whole last layer of it, the last two years of Cassie's life, that she can't get into. She's not ready. She'll never be ready. She can't tell Remus about what happened at the end, about how Cassie died–it would kill her to tell him.

So instead she says, "I was fifteen when she died. It was Christmas. And after–at her funeral, and in the winter after, when I stayed home from school–I promised myself I'd be an Auror. It was so–it was so stupid, to think I could somehow avenge Cassie's death or something, but I just–I had to blame her death on Bellatrix. It was the only thing that kept me okay. And I had this idea in my head about what it would be like, to be an Auror, but it's like that at all, Remus. And tonight, when I saw them for the first time, the Death Eaters, and when I realised what this job will be like, what I'll be facing, I just–I don't know anymore."

Her voice is mostly a whisper now, and she's slightly horrified by just how much she's admitted, but, despite how weird it is for someone to finally know about Cassie and despite how hard it was to tell him, she's glad Remus knows. She's glad she's finally said it. It's as if a huge weight is off her shoulders. Suddenly, Cassie's death feels less like a dirty secret she's kept hidden from the world.

"I thought I was strong enough for this job," she says to Remus' shoulder, "but I don't-I don't know anymore."

It's silent for a few excruciating moments.

Tonks knows, logically, that she can't expect Remus to have something to say immediately.

Really, she thinks, what can he even say to that?

She knows that, if the positions were reversed and Remus had just told her something like this, she would have no idea what to say to him.

Still, the seconds to her feel like ages, and she's just beginning to wonder if he's not asleep or something (which really would serve her right for showing up at his flat at midnight only two days after a full moon) when he speaks.

"Dora," he starts, his voice sort of raw, "don't ever think that you're not strong enough."

They're words she desperately needs to hear, and yet as he says them she's also desperate to refute them. "But look at me, Remus! I didn't even face any of them, and I had a complete melt down–"

"Don't ever think that," he repeats, his voice firmer this time. He even pulls back from her, which leaves her absurdly cold, and uses a gentle hand on the side of her face to force her to meet his eyes.

When she does, he looks completely earnest, and serious, and she's wondering whether or not she's imagining the red around his eyes even as she hears him say, "Dora, listen to me, don't ever think that."

The look on his face tells her that her eyes have betrayed just how much she needs him to say what he has, because he takes it a step further and continues, "When I first–honestly, when I first came upon the work of Death Eaters–" he pauses for a moment, seeming to collect himself, before he continues, "I was 18, just out of Hogwarts, and I had no idea what I was doing. I'd joined the Order to fight, but I didn't know what I was getting myself into."

He laughs a bit wryly, saying, "I was naïve. I didn't seem to understand that there's a monumental difference between duelling for practise, with friends, and doing it for real. I was with another Order member, Fabian Prewett, and we were on patrol when we saw the Dark Mark over a house a few blocks away. When I saw what they'd done to the family inside, I–well, my reaction was similar to yours. And I didn't see it happening–"

She starts to protest that the cases are completely different, and that what he'd seen was much worse, but he has none of it and cuts her off.

"-and," he says, voice firm, "I didn't have a history like you do."

This quiets her, and he shakes his head a moment, looking down, before he looks back at her and says, "Dora, your reaction was completely understandable. What you went through–I can't begin to imagine how that felt."

She almost cuts him off to tell him that she's sure he can, because she knows he's lost friends, but she doesn't want to interrupt him, and she's suddenly consumed by an overwhelming exhaustion, so she leans her cheek against the back of the couch and listens to him speak.

"And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that you had to go through that with your sister. I'm grateful as well, grateful that you could tell me about it. But you must understand–it doesn't make you weak. It doesn't. It gives you something to fight for, someone to be strong for. And I know it might be hard to believe, but it's okay to be scared. It's okay to be."

He seems to notice her skeptical look, because he asks, "When you were there, earlier, when Mad-Eye was giving you orders and you were working with fellow Aurors, were you any less competent than anyone else?"

She furrows her brow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, when Mad-Eye asked you to do something, were you able to do it?"

"Of course," she answers plainly. "It was after–once all the action had stopped–that I freaked out."

"Exactly!" He says, and she's appalled to find him smiling. "Exactly. That's your proof. You're strong enough for the job. You did everything you were supposed to. The important thing is that you kept your head under pressure. What happened later on doesn't matter."

She gives him a look. "How can it not matter, Remus?"

The smile he gives her now is decidedly fond, and a small voice in the back of her head asserts that if she wasn't so exhausted she'd probably be trying to refrain from throwing herself at him.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," he tells her with a soft smile. "I don't know a single witch or wizard who fought in the first war that wasn't scared out of their mind. We all were. We were hilariously outnumbered and we were always two steps behind the enemy. Everyone was scared. What mattered was what happened in the moment.

"My point, Dora, is that it's okay to be afraid. You're scared you're not fit for your job, but you are. You must be. You made it through tonight. And it never gets easier, to see these things, but eventually you'll be able to find a way to cope. You'll find something that helps you keep the horrors you see away from every other part of your life."

It's silent for a few moments while she digests his words before he says, suddenly, "Do you want to know what Mad-Eye told me about you when I met with him after you came to my flat?"

She nods eagerly at him, because she'd give pretty much anything to hear what Mad-Eye'd say about her behind closed doors, and he chuckles a bit before telling her, "He said that your greatest weakness is also your greatest strength. That you care too much. And he worried that you'd let the job swallow you up if you weren't careful. But never, not once, did he worry about you not being strong enough. He thinks you're very strong, and I do, too. There's a difference, Dora, between being afraid and being a coward."

Her eyes feel very heavy as he says, "It's behaviour that makes someone a coward. Their choices. Their actions. But everybody is afraid."

And he, she realises through her exhaustion, is right. She can be as scared as she wants. She should be scared. But as long as she doesn't act on it–well, then she's doing just as well as everyone else.

"Thank you, Remus," she says, unconsciously snuggling further into his sofa. "Thank you for being here and for dealing with my hysteria and for reassuring me like you always do and for–" she yawns, "–well, for everything."

"You're welcome, Dora," he says, eyes soft, and then all she can feel is warmth, and she can smell books and ink and Remus, and she finally gives into the urge to let her eyes drift shut.

The last thing her mind registers, a thing she's not even sure is real and will not remember in the morning, is a pair of lips, warm and gentle, ghosting over her forehead.

~ o0o ~

Nymphadora Tonks wakes up all at once to a feeling of dread, as if she's forgotten something.

The feeling propels her into a sitting position far too quickly, and she feels an overwhelming sense of disorientation as the room she's in comes into focus. She can't remember ever being in it before, but it's the fact that the room seems somewhat familiar despite the fact that she has no idea where she is that really throws her off.

Once her vision stops swimming and she looks around a bit, things start falling into place.

The incident with the Death Eaters at the World Cup.

Her almost-panic attack.

Showing up at Remus' doorstep in the middle of the night.

Warm arms holding her close as she calmed down.

Talking, for ages and ages, about Cassie.

Remus, his eyes completely earnest, telling her she's brave.

She flops back down on his couch, running a hand over her face as she tries to collect her thoughts.

It's morning now, and the sunlight streaming through a nearby window is probably what woke her up, seeings how it's silent in the flat. She's still dressed in her Auror robes, though someone's taken off her shoes, and by the looks of it she's spent the night on Remus' couch. A blanket lays on the floor, as if it'd been laid over her but she'd kicked it off in the night.

Yawning, she checks her watch.

7:53. She's got to be at work in a little over an hour, and she's got to go home and shower and change before then.

She sighs and stretches while looking curiously around the room she's found herself in. It appears to be a dual living room/study. The couch she's on faces a wall full of bookshelves overflowing with all different kinds of books and knick-knacks, and to her left and right are a set of shabby yet matching armchairs. A small table next to the chair on her left has a lamp, and the one on her right has a stack of books. Along the right wall of the room is a desk covered with papers and ink, and a hallway leaving that side goes to doors which she guesses hold a master bedroom and bathroom.

Behind her, there's a cramped but cozy kitchen whose windows fill it with light, and beyond it she can just make out a table and chairs. To her right is an entry way and front door.

She's unbearably curious to see more of Remus' flat, though she's pretty sure that she can see most of it from where she's sitting (which, she thinks, is slightly sad, though she can't say her flat's much bigger), but she has no reason to snoop and she knows Remus likes his privacy. Besides, she'd hate the thought of him in her flat, which is embarrassingly messy.

She finishes stretching and stands to grab her shoes, focusing on specific actions so that she can't feel any more embarrassed than she already does for last night, and only then does she notice the coffee table right in front of the couch she's spent the night on. On it are her wand, a steaming mug of tea, and a note. Curiously, she grabs the note, which is composed in Remus' careful script, and as she reads it her smile grows so wide it hurts. As she folds it and puts it in her pocket, she reminds herself to add it to her steadily growing collection of notes-from-Remus-that-are-far-too-adorable-to-get-rid-of. It reads:

Dora,

I'm sorry to have left you here alone. I have a meeting with Mr. Campbell at 7:30, and I didn't want to wake you. I'm sorry for leaving you on the couch, but you looked so peaceful that I didn't have the heart to wake you last night. I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable.

I tried to put a warming charm on this tea, and I hope it's still good when you wake up. I also tried to set an alarm on the clock to go off at 8:00 so you could get to work by 9:00. You'll have to forgive me if it doesn't; I'm afraid my charm skills are a bit rusty.

I hope you're feeling better. I know last night was hard for you, but I don't want you to forget what we talked about. You're strong enough for anything, Dora.

I also wanted to thank you again for feeling comfortable coming to me. I'm not sure I can accurately portray how much that means to me. Please don't feel guilty about it.

I will see you tomorrow for lunch, as always.

Remus

A/N: So, how'd you like it? I'll admit I was pretty terrified to post this one, because...well, everything, actually.

I didn't want Tonks to come off as weak/an emotional wreck, which is one of my biggest concerns with this chapter. I hope she doesn't seem pathetic! She's got a lot to be hysterical about, I think, and she's young and it's the first time she's seen this sort of cruelty/violence firsthand. By the time she joins the Order, she has seen more, developed a coping strategy, and is in a better place about her sister, so I think that by then she can be the way we see her in the books.

Anyway, I hope that was okay. What did you think about what you know so far about Cassie? The actual circumstances of her death will be explained a bit later on...

Thank you so much for reading! Chapter 11 (which should be much less angsty, sorry!) will be up soon :)