Remus stalked down the sidewalk. One sentence. One word. How could she take everything she'd said and turn it so quickly on its head?

You're overreacting, a tiny voice said, but he angrily pushed it aside. If she could flip so easily from one mood to the next, he was better off out of it. It was just...she had seemed so sincere, he hadn't expected-

"Hey, wait up," Tonks called from behind him. "Damn it, Remus, stop!"

He spun on his heel. She splashed through a puddle as she hurried up, her cheeks flushed from trying to catch up with his longer stride.

"I thought we were back to surnames."

She bent and leaned her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. "I said I was sorry!"

He didn't answer. What was there to say? And her assumption that a simple apology would smooth things over only made it worse.

"Fine. You want to do this the hard way, we'll do this the hard way," she said grimly, straightening up. "Why did you tell Molly that I'm starving myself?"

"What? What are you talking about? I only asked Molly if she'd noticed whether or not you'd lost weight, I never said- What does this have to do with anything?"

"My wake-up call this morning was Molly coming in to bring me a breakfast that she then questioned whether or not I would actually eat! The implication being that I'm committing slow suicide by hunger strike. And all because of questions you were asking," she took a step forward and poked him hard in the chest, her voice getting louder. "So now I want to know, what the hell were you trying to do? Not to sound childish, but I thought we were friends now, Remus! Why not ask me instead of going behind my back?"

"Asking Molly about your health is going behind your back?"

"Molly blows stuff like this out of proportion, you know that! Why would you assume this would be any different? Now I'm going to have her watching every little thing I do, asking me personal questions that aren't any of her business! What were you thinking?"

"I was trying to help!"

Tonks took another step forward, crowding him. "Well, don't, next time!"

"What makes you think there's going to be a next time?"

Her furious face filled his vision. He became suddenly aware of the scant inches that separated them. His heart thumped painfully in his chest, once, twice.

A horn blast from a car passing on the street made them both jump. Remus looked quickly around, chagrined, as it finally dawned on him the public scene they were creating. Moody would kill them both.

When he looked back, she wasn't there.

It took a panicked moment to register that she'd moved over to sit on the damp bottom step of Number 18. She had drawn herself into a loose ball, arms wrapped around her knees and her head cradled by both.

He was beginning to recognize the defensive posture for what it was. His anger began to drain away, leaving him tired despite the early hour.

His feet moved him forward without conscious thought. Bent forward as she was, he could see the inflamed scars on the back of her neck. For a split second they seemed to shift. He blinked. It must have been his imagination.

"I'm sorry," she said in a muffled voice, distracting him. "You were worried about me, I get it. I was upset, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you." She raised her head. "I'm sorry that I hurt you."

He sighed and sat down heavily beside her. "I never know where I am with you. Are you sure you want to be friends?"

She was quiet long enough to make him wonder if her answer was no.

This spitfire woman was like no one he'd ever known. She'd thrown his life into upheaval from the moment they'd met, and if the last twelve hours were anything to go by, even if they were able to keep a friendship going, it promised to be as volatile as Erumpent potion. Did he really need that right now? Did she? Weren't their lives difficult enough already?

"Are you sure you actually want to be friends?" she turned the question around, as if reading his thoughts.

"Truthfully? No. Not if we're going to keep doing this," he admitted. "It feels like we're going in circles."

She nodded, her face sad as she slumped forward again, her head turned to look at him as it rested on her arms. "I'm not usually like this, you know."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Confrontational? Not with my friends, anyway. Not even on the job, for the most part."

He didn't want to know the answer, but the question fell out anyway. "So...why are you like this, with me?"

"Not sure," she shrugged a little. Her eyes were unfocused, thinking. "There's a connection between us. Whether we like it or not."

"And you don't want there to be a connection?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not that. I...expected things of you. It probably wasn't—isn't—fair. I didn't know you at all. I still don't."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Ugh, this is hard to explain," she covered her head with her arms, then shook herself and sat up. "Okay, look, this thing that happened. You didn't just save my life. You...you got me through it. Maybe I could have handled it on my own, but who knows. The fact is, I held it together because of you. And when I was in hospital, and I couldn't wake up, and everything was burning-"

"What do you mean, burning?"

She reddened. "Shit. Sorry, I didn't mean to say that. Um. Nightmares. That's...what a lot of my nightmares are. Were. For the most part. Fire. Anyway. Doesn't matter." She hurried on. "So in hospital, I was...waiting for you? Even in my dreams, I had so many questions. And I just had this feeling that if you could be there with me, things would be better. I'd be safe." Her laugh sounded bitter. "It's good you never showed up. My imagination made you out to be some goddamned white knight. But you never asked for that, and I think in the end it was better that I fought my own way out."

Remus stared straight ahead, unseeing. He wondered how he could continue to feel two contradictory, competing impulses. He could not both be a friend and protect her, at the same time he refused to have anything to do with her; and yet both coexisted inside his head, side by side.

Even worse, he'd ended up in the last place he'd wanted or expected to be: a pedestal. It didn't change anything. Given a choice, it wasn't like he would go back and do anything differently, under the same circumstances. Even if he'd known exactly how everything would turn out, he couldn't have made any other choice.

Now he couldn't decide which was worse, that she'd regarded him as a hero, or that he'd knocked himself off that same pedestal without ever knowing he'd been up there in the first place.

It explained her animosity. There was a Muggle saying. "Never meet your heroes." How utterly humiliating to have it applied to oneself, even if, as she'd said, he'd never asked to be anyone's hero. He'd just done what he had to do.

And he'd run away ever since. That was one of the hardest things to own up to. If he'd found the strength to be there when she'd needed him then, why couldn't he figure out how to do it now? She wasn't a devil intent on destroying his equilibrium. She was just another person, battered by circumstances and looking for comfort.

The difference was, she'd cast him as the hero, and he persisted in casting her as the villain. What did that say about them as individuals? It certainly said that he didn't deserve what she was offering.

He opened his mouth to say something to that effect, but it died before he got a word out. She was watching him. She didn't give a sign as to whether or not she was waiting for a response or simply giving him space to think, but her steady gaze unnerved him. He had to look away again.

She tipped sideways toward him until their shoulders were nearly touching and whispered, "So what's your excuse?"

He swallowed. "I...don't have one, really. What excuse can make up for letting you down like that?"

Her fist thumped his arm. "Oh for God's sake, don't do that. I'm not trying to guilt trip you. I just meant, you asked why I was like this with you. So why are you like this with me? I listened to the children's stories about when you taught at Hogwarts. This isn't typical for you either."

Of course he wasn't behaving like his typical self. She had smashed into his life with all the force of a tsunami. He had no idea which way was up anymore. And that wasn't even factoring in the wolf's odd reaction to her.

"I'm not really sure. Some of it's guilt," he admitted. "I feel responsible for what happened, to some degree. No, look, I understand it's not rational," he said, forestalling her indignant response, "but it doesn't matter. I do feel guilty. And beyond that, it's...not anything I can put into words. I tried, with Sirius. It didn't go well."

"All right," she nodded after a while. "So here's what I think. We're both reacting badly to what happened, but we're too damned nice to take it out on everyone else and for some reason feel safe enough to take it out on each other. Makes sense, I guess, in a messed up kind of way. But Remus, you've got to knock that shit off, okay? And so do I. Even if friendship isn't possible, we still have to work together. Look at us. All we had to do this morning was go interview some old guy and we've barely made it out the front door. This isn't good for anybody."

"I know," he said quietly.

They sat in silence for several minutes as the sun broke through the clouds, warm enough for wisps of steam to rise from the pavement as it dried.

"What was it I said?" she asked suddenly.

"What?"

"What exactly did I say that upset you earlier?"

"Does it matter? You've already apologized."

"Yes, it matters, you muppet. I need to know so I don't do it again!"

"Muppet?"

"Yeah, you know, like the- Nevermind. Muggle thing."

"I know what a Muppet is. I've never been called one before. Not a complimentary term, I'm guessing."

"Stop avoiding the question."

He sighed. "You called me Lupin."

"Just that?" she frowned, then frantically waved her hands. "No, wait, I didn't mean it like...It's not insignificant, I just meant...sorry, you know, is there more to it?

Her stammered apologies wiped away the remnants of his anger. "It wasn't really even that. Two nights ago we were fighting. Last night you offered friendship. This morning we were at each other's throats again. I…"

"Yes?"

He stared down at his hands. "I would like to be your friend."

"I know. You said so last night."

"I haven't made an honest friend in a long time. It felt...good. And then it seemed this morning as though you…ah…"

"Like I was jerking you around?"

He smiled ruefully. "Yes, I suppose that works."

"I wasn't."

He looked at her. Her eyes were warm and sincere, and the happiness of the previous night swept over him again. Maybe being tossed around by a tsunami wasn't all bad.

She worried at her lip. "The thing is, I don't want you to freak out if we have any more arguments. We probably will. Give this some time, okay? It'll work out."

She reached out and squeezed one of his hands.

He frowned.

"What is it?" she asked.

Sitting in full sunlight, Remus was growing uncomfortably warm as the morning air around them grew muggy. He captured her hand in both of his. "Your fingers are freezing. Are you cold?"

She pulled away and tucked both hands under her arms. "It's fine, they've been like this lately. It's nothing to worry about."

He reached out to touch her arm but she pulled away.

"We should get going," she said, struggling to her feet. "I've been to Oldham, but it might be better if you Apparate us both there, since you know exactly where you're going."

He should push for an answer, he knew he should, but she was so sensitive to any questions about her health, and her expression promised another fight if he persisted. Maybe she just didn't like being confronted with her weakness. Anyone who took as much pride in her own strengths as she clearly did would have hated both the reality of her situation and the reminder of it.

"All right," he conceded to both what she'd said and hadn't said. His questions could wait. "There's a little alley near Boskin's shop that I used before. We'll go there."

A/N: Okay, crazy work schedule has evened out a little. Hopefully the posting schedule will too. I think I finished editing this chapter? Eh. Poke me if there's any major problems.

Thank you so much for the reviews, they all made me smile during some incredibly stressful weeks. And thanks to everyone who's been reading, even if you don't review. I keep meaning to point that out. Personally, I'm terrible at leaving reviews, I never think that I have anything worthwhile to say. As a fellow lurker, I get it, lurkers. I see the traffic stats, I know you guys are there reading, and that's awesome all by itself. So either way, you all are awesome and I'm so jazzed that you're here reading this. Thank you!