AN: I know I have other stories that need finishing, but quarantine boredom made this happen and so here it is! Hope you like. Also, I know times are crazy rn, so I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy!
Tonks awoke to a splitting headache and quickly realized she had been bound, her wrists tied above her head to a ceiling beam so that her toes barely touched the ground. She'd been stripped of her heavy royal gown, and was in just her loose white shift. She reasoned it'd either been too heavy for them to carry on her, or they'd wanted to sell it.
She tried to shift a little, bouncing on her toes, but groaned; her shoulders ached from the ropes, and she couldn't feel her fingers. Her head felt like it was being systematically cleaved in half by a blunt instrument.
A soft, pained growl answered her groan, and Tonks froze, her heart racing. Holding her breath, she could hear the harsh panting from across the small room. She looked up anxiously, and couldn't contain her relief when she saw who it was.
"Remus!" She cried out, happy, despite everything, to see him. But he certainly didn't look happy to see her, answering her with another low growl, and shrinking away from her, pressing himself to the wall. He was apparently unrestrained, but he was shaking, the veins of his forearms bulging, and his hands were white, clenched around the bars of the single window in their cell.
Concern overtook her. "Remus? What have they done to you?"
He snarled, and this time he raised his head to meet her eyes, and she gasped. He didn't look like the calm, intelligent scholar she knew at all. His eyes were wild, his pupils nearly swallowing his amber irises with black, and his teeth looked large and exceedingly sharp when he bared them at her.
She glanced at his hands again, clenched against the window bars, and saw that his nails had grown longer and ragged. She looked through the window, saw the beginnings of a full moon rising, and suddenly understood.
"Oh Remus," she whispered softly.
He raised his head again. His pupils constricted and for a second his eyes were amber again. He looked absolutely horrified to see her.
"No," he breathed hoarsely. He made a panicked glance back out the window, and his fingers spasmed around the bars. "No, Dora, you have to get out of here!"
She tried to move her hands but she couldn't feel them at all, her shoulder joints creaked in protest, and her head throbbed so violently her vision swam and she thought she might pass out.
"Dora, Dora please," Remus begged, his top teeth were clamped down so viciously on his bottom lip that she saw a drop of blood well up beneath them. "Shift your wrists thinner, or— or—"
She attempted to flex her wrists weakly. The world spun. "I don't— I don't think I can…" she admitted.
Lupin cursed and squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head. She heard him struggle to control his breathing, holding his breath for several seconds, and then breathing out deeply for several more. She wondered, rather hysterically, if he was trying to meditate, and almost snorted at the idea.
The breathing paused, and then continued, and Tonks tried to take stock of the situation. She stared at her ankles and tried to focus enough to shift them. If her legs were just a tad longer she could rest her feet fully on the floor.
Her ankles were bare, thanks to the absence of her long, stuffy gown, and an added benefit was that the shift was easy to move in. If she wasn't able to shift her wrists out of her bonds, she might be able to swing herself up and latch her legs onto the ceiling beam. It was wishful thinking, perhaps, but it gave her a little hope.
Of course, the many layers and lacings of the gown might have given her some form of protection. She glanced over at Remus and had a sudden vision of the werewolf attempting and failing to extricate her from her corset with his teeth, and this time she couldn't help the slightly hysterical laughter that escaped her throat.
Remus paused, and then lifted an incredulous head. "Are you laughing? " He demanded.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she said, biting her lip to stop the laughter. The poor man was trying his hardest not to eat her, and here she was, cackling at him like a loon. She felt the laughter and hysteria bubbling up in her chest and into her throat again. It was suddenly just so funny, and she couldn't help it. She snorted, and then she was laughing again, laughing so hard it hurt, laughing so hard she could feel tears in her eyes.
"Dora," Remus was saying, looking at her like he thought she was insane. "This isn't funny, I could really hurt you."
It was the self-loathing in his voice that sobered her up, and she swallowed down the hysteria and looked at him. "No," she said.
"No!?" Remus demanded incredulously.
"No," Tonks repeated firmly. "The werewolf might hurt me."
He flinched.
"But you," Tonks continued, meeting his eyes and trying to sound as confident as she wanted to feel, "You would never hurt me, Remus."
He just looked at her, so many emotions flitting through his eyes. "You don't understand," he said at last, his voice was ragged. "We're not two different entities. We're the same. I am the Wolf."
"You're not," Tonks said, shaking her head vehemently despite the fact that it made her dizzy. "You wouldn't- Remus, I know you wouldn't."
"You don't know anything ," Remus snarled, his eyes suddenly dark and hungry once more. His powerful gaze roamed over her body ravenously, and Tonks sucked in a breath, her mouth dry. "You don't know what I want to do to you right now," he growled.
She was suddenly, inexplicably aroused. She shifted, and her hardened nipples dragged deliciously across the fabric of her shift. She saw Lupin's eyes flick to her breasts.
"See something you like, Lupin?" She asked loftily, portraying a calm she did not feel. Her pulse raced. She raised an eyebrow, calling his bluff.
His nostrils flared, and he sniffed the air, then looked at her in disbelief, his eyes wide. She forced down her embarrassment since she was obviously affecting him too. Of course, he was currently being put through a harrowing transformation that, among other things, sharpened his senses, his primal instincts, and tendency towards violence… What was her excuse?
"Dora," he said, shaking his head aggressively. His eyes were soft amber again. "You don't want this."
She thought about it for a second. "I want you," she said in a small voice.
She heard his sharp intake of breath. "Dora, we can't," he whispered. " Look at the position you're in right now. I'm dangerous."
She made a small noise of protest, but he plowed on. "Look at us right now. I could do anything to you right now, Dora, and believe me I want to , and you wouldn't be able to stop me."
The disgust in his voice made her ache. "I trust you, Remus."
When he looked at her again, his eyes were hollow. "That makes it worse."
And then the tendons in his neck strained and he threw his head back and howled. When he dropped his head again, he was half-wolf already. His nose and upper lip had begun to morph into a snout, and his ears lay flat against his skull.
Several months earlier...
Harry raced down the steps, leaping to skip the bottom three entirely, and broke into a run, only to collide headlong with Remus Lupin, who was exiting his classroom.
"Harry!" his tutor caught him by the shoulders and steadied him, eyebrows raised. "What on earth-?"
"I've just heard from Neville," Harry said breathlessly, digging the slightly crumpled missive from his pocket and waving it excitedly in his tutor's face. "He's not getting engaged, he's going on a quest!"
Remus regarded him carefully, then accepted the parchment, smoothing it out to read, his eyes skimming over Neville's loopy writing.
Harry was nearly vibrating with restlessness. "A quest, Moony!" he said excitedly. "Neville's going on a two-year quest to prove himself! And Malfoy's going with him! They're putting off any betrothal arrangements until he gets back! I could do something like that, couldn't I?"
"Harry," Remus said carefully, folding up the parchment again, his eyes sympathetic. "You know it's different for them."
" Why? " Harry demanded, knowing he sounded like a petulant child, but feeling like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. "Neville's birthday is the same day as mine!"
"Harry," Remus sighed again. "They've been lucky. Neville's not a crown prince. While Queen Augusta is still alive, Neville's only second in line for his throne, after his father. And Draco's, what, fifth in line for his?"
"Sixth," Harry corrected numbly.
"Oh, I'd forgotten," Lupin said, suddenly thoughtful. "Andromeda's girl." He gave Harry an assessing look that Harry didn't like one bit, "I've never met the girl but she must be, what, a few years older than you?"
Harry didn't respond. Princess Nymphadora. He'd met her once, when he was really young. His parents-back when he'd had parents- had arranged a few playdates with other young royals. He remembered her only vaguely, an older girl clambering up in trees in muddied purple silk while her mother cried in distress, Lily fighting to hide a smile when James had to climb after the child to retrieve her.
He tried to picture her grown-up now, a proper lady in a gown and tiara, and found he couldn't. He looked up at Remus, whose gaze had softened.
"I'm sorry, Harry," He said, and Harry knew he meant it. "But you're the last living heir of the Gryffindor line, and when you turn seventeen this summer and take the throne, you'll be the youngest ruler in the Alliance. The Council wants to project strength. A strong, strategic marriage to a political ally will help with that. And," he sighed again, awkwardly, "You'll need an heir."
"An heir," Harry echoed dully, even though he'd heard the speech before, from the Council.
Lupin reached over to squeeze Harry's shoulder. "It won't be so bad," he said comfortingly, "I know it doesn't seem terribly romantic, but love can grow out of these things. Just look at Draco's parents."
"But Mother and Father," Harry tried.
"I know," Lupin agreed. "But what Lily and James had was a once in a million kind of thing. And, again, they were lucky. When they got married the Alliance wasn't as precarious as it is now."
Harry thought of Draco's cousin, the younger Black prince, found dead in his bed- poisoned, it was rumored, by his own brother, (although Harry knew his godfather would never do such a thing). He thought of his dead parents, and the attacks on the borders of the kingdom, and the whispers of a Dark Lord rising.
"I'll do it," Harry said, deflating a little bit as he shoved Neville's letter back into his pocket.
"Chin up," Lupin said, chucking him under the chin. "You're brave and kind and handsome. You'll have your pick of beautiful, intelligent young ladies. We'll find you someone you won't be sorry to call your wife."
Harry nodded dully. He thought about Ron and Hermione and how they shyly danced around each other, of his mother and father, who had, by all accounts, been insanely in love, how his father had risked everything to marry Lily. He'd never have that.
"I'll make enquiries about Andromeda's daughter," Lupin said, removing his hand from Harry's chin. "She could be a good match." He grinned suddenly, "You and Sirius could be cousins-in-law."
That night, Harry dreamt of standing at an altar, wearing nothing but his pants and socks. He kept trying to explain to the people around him that he needed to get dressed, but he kept getting shushed. The music began to play, and everyone turned to watch the entrance of the bride. Harry followed suit, covering his underpants and bare chest as best he could as he turned towards the entrance...only for a little girl in a muddy purple dress to come skipping towards him, cackling and dragging a sheepish grey wolf behind her.
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