AN - Unsurprisingly, another Remus/Tonks oneshot from me - though told from Remus' POV. This is based on what J.K said on Pottermore - that had it not been a time of war, Remus would have left as soon as he suspected there was something between he and Tonks. Hope you enjoy! :)

Seeing Pink -

Though the sun had set hours ago, the atmosphere, humid, hot and sticky still felt heavy, oppressive. Remus stood in the garden of Grimmauld Place; he had ventured out here in the vain hope of getting some air. He took his jacket off and folded it carefully over an ornate garden chair, pulled at his tie, unlooping it and pulling it from his neck and opened the top few buttons of his shirt. He stared out over the view of London. Though knowing a little of the Black's views and behaviours from growing up friends with Sirius, and from seeing for himself the sort of books and artefacts they kept, Remus was sure he would have little to nothing in common with the family who had once prominently resided in his house, he did admire their choice of location.

Of course, the house, left unoccupied for well over a decade was as oppressive as the heat; the town house, built on the top of a hill, gave a spectacular view over the skyline of London. Judging by the position of the garden furniture, the old inhabitants of the house had enjoyed that view as much as Remus did.

Popping the button on his left cuff, he slowly and precisely rolled his right shirt sleeve up, then the left. Sitting in one of those ornate, perfectly situated chairs, he dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his face.

This wasn't supposed to have happened.

When his short-lived career at Hogwarts had ended, Remus had almost left the country. Before Dumbledore had approached him about the teaching position, Remus had carved out a life for himself in Switzerland. Though by no means wealthy, he was comfortable. He worked transcribing material for a muggle research company on a freelance basis. This allowed him to manage his time, knowing he'd need a few days off before and after the full moon, he was able to work regularly without anyone knowing about his condition. He lived in a little rented room in an old hotel, full of others wanting privacy and anonymity. He'd been content – but lonely.

He had known when Dumbledore contacted him to tell him Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, that the quiet little life he had built for himself was about to be disrupted, but it was up to Remus just how much. He could have stayed – allowed himself a quick trip to England to be interviewed by the ministry and then returned to his quiet, isolated, but safe little life. Then Dumbledore had offered him the job – a chance of a lifetime. He'd always liked the idea of teaching, enjoyed tutoring the younger students, loved reading and found fascination in learning new things.

Of course, Remus Lupin was many things, but he was not a fool. He'd known that whilst Dumbledore would not ask him to teach if he didn't believe him capable, he was also aware that Dumbledore wanted to keep Remus close, in case Sirius tried to contact him. Whether Dumbledore had been trying to protect Remus in that, or Sirius, it wasn't clear. Still at the end of it all, though Remus could finally let go of some old ghosts, knowing his closest friend was in fact innocent – he'd still found himself, once again without work and without friends. With Sirius on the run and an article outing him as a werewolf plastered in the Prophet, Remus had been ready to head back to Switzerland and succumb to the isolation once more.

Once again it had been Dumbledore who had stepped in and persuaded him to stay, for Harry. He owed him that much. The minute he'd seen Harry Potter for the first time since his parents had died, he'd felt as though he'd been punched in the gut – and rightly so. He'd let him down. He'd let James and Lily down. He should have been there, helping, supporting Harry, telling him about how amazing his parents were, how proud they would be of him – but soliloquies and outbursts of affection had never come easily to Remus. It wasn't that he felt any less than any other man – he sometimes believed he felt more, he just wasn't very good at articulating those feelings. Sirius, James, Lily and Peter had all known how he'd felt about them. He'd tried to make up for his inability to express those feelings by showing them. With Harry he hadn't even attempted to do that – consumed by his own grief and selfishness he had ran away. Perhaps, if Remus hadn't have known in his heart that they would soon once again be at war with the evil that killed his best friends and Harry's parents, he'd have been able to convince himself that Harry was better off without the werewolf friend of his dead parents. He could have quietly returned to Switzerland, to anonymity and loneliness.

Instead, here he stood in the stifling heat – missing the snow-covered mountains and the excuse to bundle up and cover his scars with layer upon layer of clothing.

He was once again part of the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius was free – or sort of free. Living in this house didn't feel suffocating only to Remus. The memories hidden in every room of the Black ancestral home were draining the life from his old friend, what little Azkaban had left intact. But Remus had noted that every minute Sirius got to spend with Harry seemed to revive him, almost to his former self.

Yes – had they not have been at war, Remus would not be sweating in the garden of one of the most notorious wizarding families in Britain, he'd be safe, far away from all the temptation, hurt and love that mocked him here.

He should have seen it coming sooner really. He wondered idly if he had, but had selfishly, expertly pushed it to the back of his mind in an act of self-preservation.

He had considered himself lucky, during his school years, to have made a group of friends who loved and accepted him. It wasn't until they had all either taken or been taken from him, that he'd believed their friendship to have been a curse not a blessing. Their unconditional love for him had led him into a fall sense of hope, of believing that he might one day be able to love a woman and be loved in return. He had watched as James had fallen for Lily, as Sirius had flirted with every woman he met and as they'd gotten old, slept with a fair few too – though his bravado was good, Remus knew that Sirius was just looking for what James and Lily had, they all were.

Bolstered by the fierce friendships he'd enjoyed during his time at Hogwarts, Remus had left expecting to find others who would accept him as he was. He'd never had James' swagger or Sirius' cockiness, but he did meet someone, not long after graduating Hogwarts. She was sweet and kind. She worked at the muggle library he frequented regularly, and they got talking, became close.

Swept up in the idea of love, romance and possibility – Remus remembered how excited he was, chatting to Sirius about her, about her smile, her laugh, the way she crinkled her nose when she spotted a grammatical error in a book. He would be shopping for food or working, and he'd imagine he'd see her dashing by – only to realise it was just another tall brunette.

They had spent more and more time together. His friends encouraging him to make it official – ask her to be his girlfriend and he'd been about to.

Until the moon, in all her habitual cruelness had stolen the dream of a normal life away from him.

Though Snape would never be Remus' favourite person, he was eternally grateful for the proficiency with which he brewed wolfsbane each month. Back then, when Remus had fancied himself in love for the first time, wolfsbane had been a new and costly potion, far beyond the means of a newly graduated student, unable to hold down a job because he needed at least four days a month off and would return looking as though he'd been in a terrible fight and lost.

So, each full moon, Remus used to disappear. As he'd grown as a man, so had the wolf, getting stronger and more aggressive and so Remus refused to tell the others where he went – worried that even in their animal form, he may hurt one of them.

The morning after the full moon which had changed his life forever, Remus had awoken in a clearing, surrounded by others – clearly werewolves, some of whom were still sleeping, others who were cleaning wounds and one who sat cross legged next to him. As Remus had sat up, wincing at the pain he felt in his abdomen, the man sat on a log beside him had handed him a cup filled with water and a small vial.

"Here take this." He'd said gruffly. Seeing Remus eye it and him suspiciously, he'd smiled, "It's for that broken rib. Take it, don't take it – makes no difference to me."

"Thank you," Remus remembered saying before he took the potion, his hands shaking from the pain his ribs were causing. He also vividly remembered the gashes on his arms and legs, deep, vivid, red gashes that stung and made Remus' eyes water.

"I'm sorry you're so badly hurt. It was foolish of you though…"

Remus had felt confused and worried he would pass out from the pain. "What was foolish? What happened?"

The older man had tied a few bandages around the worst of Remus' cuts then sat back down opposite him. "We attacked you, I think, though of course I can't really remember. I'm just assuming based on the scene when I first woke up. You were in the middle of us all."

Remus hadn't felt fear on hearing the man's confession, but confusion. "Why would you all… I mean what did I…"

"Well, you wondered into these woods – where we all come together to transform and all I can remember is catching a smell, a human smell and running. My guess is we all smelt someone that you'd been near and that drew us to you – an unfamiliar werewolf always gets a bit of a beating the first time they encounter an established pack I'm afraid – it's a dominance thing – puts you in your place. Don't worry – as humans we don't feel compelled to act similarly."

Remus could distinctly remember feeling sick and not because of his injuries. "You could smell her?"

"Her?" The older man had said, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, my g…"

He'd nodded, the stranger and sighed, "Your girlfriend."

Remus had felt too sick to be happy about hearing her referred to as such for the first time, "Yes."

Handing Remus some more water he'd sighed again, "Let me give you some advice…"

"Remus."

"Let me give you some advice Remus. You don't get to have a girlfriend. Not unless she is also a werewolf. Which from what I smelt, she clearly isn't…"

"But I…"

"Remus, please – trust me. I was like you once. Young, full of false hope and idealistic dreams. Met a lovely witch whom I lived with for a few years – she knew I was a werewolf, but she loved me anyway. We never spoke of it – never discussed it, I don't think I ever even heard her mention the word – but for a few years we were happy enough. Until someone else discovered my dirty little secret. We both lost our jobs, her friends stopped calling round, people gossiped about us, teased her – her family gave her an ultimatum, them or me. The biggest regret of my life will always be letting her choose me.

"What happened? Where is she now?" That was a question, to this day, Remus wished he'd never asked.

"Dead. We were outcasts, despised by friends, family, colleagues who had once held us in the highest regard. She got ill and we had so little money. I managed to scrap together enough to get her the medicine she needed for a while, but your average wizard potion dealers refused to deal with me, so I had to use more salubrious ones who just kept wanting to charge me more and more. Healers never really diagnosed her with anything – but I knew. She died of a broken heart and I was the person who broke it. I broke her heart a little more each day I stayed with her."

The man had knocked back his own drink then gripped Remus on the shoulder, "I know you're of an age where you think love can withstand everything – and I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but it can't. The best thing you can do for this girl or any girl in the future that you think you might love, is walk away. Run. Lycanthropy is a curse and letting someone love you only means sharing that curse with them – one way or another. Let her find someone different, whole – you'll be a lonely man for it Remus, but you'll be a better one."

Remus, trying to force himself to remember every word that older werewolf had spoken to him all those years ago, starred at the scars on his arms. Wolfsbane meant he didn't have many new ones, but the old ones were there, white raged lines etched into his freckled skin. He'd taken the old werewolf's advice, all those years ago. He'd immediately distanced himself from his first love and the possibility of any subsequent loves. He'd closed himself off, built a protection around himself. If he ever felt himself getting close to a woman, he'd move on, move away, stop interacting with them. Eventually, when that had become too difficult, he'd just locked himself away in a draughty old room in a grotty old hotel in Switzerland.

But this time, he was stuck. Unable to hide, unable to walk away from Harry, Sirius, the war that was imminent.

It had been so long since he'd felt an attraction to anyone, and she was so very young, that it hadn't occurred to him to keep his distance this time. She'd stumbled into their first meeting and continued stumbling ever since but it had taken months for him to realise she'd stumbled right into his heart.

He'd put his guard up the minute he'd realised of course, but never the quiet, unsure type, she'd confronted him about the change in his behaviour towards her. It had started out innocently enough. He'd seen that she was a competent – nay, incredibly skilled Auror and had been happy to be paired with her on missions. Soon they'd become established partners, able to know how the other would react in tricky situations, sure that they had each other's backs. The nature of most of the work they'd been doing had been information gathering – long hours, sitting, watching, waiting. The hours had flown by as they'd chatted amiably. There had been times he'd wondered if he was sharing too much with her, being too honest, but he had convinced himself that it was just what comrades did – they put their trust in each other.

It had been Sirius who had finally woken Remus up to just how idiotic he had been. After collecting Harry from his aunt and uncle's house, she'd stayed for a drink, regaling Sirius with details of the muggle's home. After she'd left, Sirius had started in on Remus.

"Did you reprimand her then?"

Remus, brow furrowed had asked, "Sorry?"

"When she broke the plate at Privet drive. Did you reprimand her?" Remus could remember that Sirius had been leaning forwards towards him, looking smug.

"It wasn't for me to reprimand anyone…"

"You were heading up this mission, weren't you?"

"Well, yes…"

"And the directives given were to enter the house quietly, so as not to draw any attention from nosy muggle neighbours and retrieve Harry?"

"Well yes, but…"

"And Tonks knocking over the plate, would certainly have made a fair racket in an otherwise quiet house…"

"Well…"

"How did you respond?"

"Well I…"

"Remus, when the plate dropped, I assume you turned around, wand raised."

"Yes."

"Then seeing it was Tonks who had dropped said plate, you…"

"I…"

"You?"

"I smiled; in fact, I think I may have even chuckled."

Sirius had thrown himself back in his chair and clapped his hands loudly. "Ha, I knew it!"

"Knew what?"

"Do you remember when you, me and Fabian used to go out on missions together?"

"Yes."

"And do you remember that time Fabian kicked a dustbin lid…"

"Yes."

"And the time James tripped over and bought down a shelf full of books with him…"

"Look, I know where you're going with this…"

"And the time that I accidentally slipped crying out as I landed on my arse on a rusty old nail. We all got a polite but strict reprimand about the necessity of being vigilant, as silent as possible when on missions."

"What's your point Sirius?"

The smirk on Sirius face had been infuriating, "My point, Moony, my old friend, is that you like her…"

"Of course, I like her. She's proven herself to be a talented Auror and valued member of the Order."

"A talented member of the order." Sirius had mimicked, "That isn't what I meant, and you know it."

"Sirius, Tonks is a talented Auror. It was unfortunate that she broke the plate and I dear say, her stealth skills could use some sharpening, however I am under no illusions that a reprimand from me is going to help her in anyway. She has Mad Eye as a mentor and Kingsley as her supervisor, I'm content that both are much better placed to help her than I am."

"Do you know how I know I've hit a nerve?"

Remus hadn't replied, but Sirius had continued anyway.

"You get pompous when you know I'm right. Just take her out for a drink. It won't kill you to do something just for fun for a change."

After a long pause, Remus had gotten up and made to leave the room, at the foot of the basement stairs, he'd turned to his oldest friend and spoken honestly, "No, but it might kill her."

After that, he'd skulked off to his room and had tried, resolutely not to think about anything Sirius had said. He'd tried not to replay the moment she'd broken the plate, the look on her face when he'd twirled around to see what the noise was. He'd begged his mind not to replay his reaction, the chuckle that had come without thought. The way he'd comforted her afterwards when he'd found her, alone in the library, annoyed at herself for being unable, despite all her other accomplishments, to control her clumsy tendencies. He desperately didn't want to remember how he'd held her by the arms and told her, whilst looking her directly in the eyes, that he found her clumsiness utterly endearing.

That was the night he'd known, though even then he hadn't really admitted it fully to himself. He had decided though that he needed to spend less time with her. Distance himself, just enough to not make those mistakes again. He needed to make sure Sirius had no reason for them to have a similar discussion as they'd had that night.

So, with the expert knowledge that comes from distancing yourself from everyone for most of your life, Remus had done just that. He'd stopped inviting Tonks to join him for a post mission drink. Stopped seeking her out of an evening, when he'd knew she'd be in the drawing room or library. He'd mentioned to Mad Eye that it would be good for Tonks to be paired with others within the Order – to help her gain more experience. That was when she'd confronted him.

"Have I done something wrong?"

"Sorry?"

"Remus don't play dumb with me. Have I done something to annoy you or upset you or I don't know… piss you off, yes or no?"

"Nymphadora, of course not… but why would you…"

"Don't call me Nymphadora."

"Apologises I…"

"You haven't been avoiding me then?"

"Avoiding…"

"Yes, avoiding me. Not inviting me for post mission hot chocolates, not coming and sitting and chatting with me in the evenings and now this."

She'd thrown the latest schedule for the month down on the table in front of him. "We're only together for two evenings out of the whole month. What was it? Got bored of having a clumsy partner? Decided to ask Mad Eye for someone with better stealth skills?"

"That's unfair." He'd never meant to hurt her. "I've never once given you reason to believe that I think your ability to fall over your own feet in anyway effects your adeptness at being a brilliant mission partner."

At his outburst, she'd calmed slightly, "you're right. I'm sorry. Then what Remus? What have I done?"

"You've done nothing." The sadness he'd felt inside – it was like a vice tightening around his heart. He should have known for sure then.

"So, you have been avoiding me. I've done nothing – what does that mean?"

"Tonks, I'm a werewolf. We shouldn't… you shouldn't…"

"Shouldn't what? Be mission partners with you? 'Cause from what I remember those keen senses of yours have saved us from a fair few scrapes."

"Be friends with me."

"What – because you're a werewolf. Nonsense. Remus what has gotten into you?"

"Nothing. Tonks, it's just how it is. Your family, friends, the career you've worked so hard building..."

"Have nothing to do with our friendship. Remus – surely you know, I don't care what people think. Those that would judge me harshly for being friends with a werewolf are people that I wouldn't want to associate with…"

"But you must. You must care Nymphadora. Being friends with me will bring you nothing but trouble. I won't let that happen."

"So that's it is it? We're no longer friends. I'm supposed to just accept this decision you've made on my behalf about who I am and am not allowed to be friends with."

"It's for the best."

She'd scoffed at that. "For who?"

"Excuse me?"

"Look Remus, I don't pretend to understand what it must be like. Never knowing whether people will accept you once they find out you're a werewolf – but I've experienced a little of the ignorance you face, and I've always clung on to those people who accepted me whole heartedly."

"It isn't that easy."

"No, much easier to close yourself off. Protect yourself from ever getting hurt by never letting anyone in. Surely that's a lonely existence Remus? A self-made prison. I've watched you, with other members of the Order, how you only let them see the put together, neat Remus that you so desperately want to project to the world. I thought the fact that you occasionally allowed me a glimpse of the prankster, of the man without his guard up, meant that you trusted me. I can see now that I was mistaken."

"Tonks, no…"

"I'll see you around Remus."

Remus starred at the London skyline, wiping away a bead of sweat that was slowly running down his forehead. She'd been right – it was a lonely existence. It had been a long, quiet three months since she had confronted him. They shared the occasional mission together, where she would act professionally, chat amiably, though in more muted terms than he was used to and whenever she stayed to catch up with Sirius, he'd excuse himself and head upstairs or hide behind a book in the library.

The first time it had happened, he'd just been about to leave Diagon Alley, when he'd seen a flash of pink fly across his vision. Sure it was her, he'd headed in that direction, but if she'd been there, in the same street as him, she certainly wasn't anymore. The next had been when he'd been in a muggle part of London, fetching some fresh fruit and vegetables from the market. Seeing pink spikes disappear around the corner, he'd shook his head and ignored the vision. In the library, on missions outside dark wizard houses, in the kitchen at Grimmauld, he'd be having a conversation, then suddenly imagine he'd seen her, only to focus and remind himself she wasn't there.

For months now, he'd been seeing pink.

Just now he'd seen her, in the kitchen, chatting amiably to order members, smiling, but that smile never quite reaching her eyes as it used to. He'd heard in her laugh that it was forced. Noticed that her hair, whilst still pink, wasn't quite as bright as it once had been. He'd seen in the tapping of her leg that she was stressed. Known in the glances that she stole at him when she thought he wasn't looking, that he was the reason for it all.

It was time to go, to leave. His guard, the distance, the walls he'd put up were not protecting either of them. It had all been too late. He should never have befriended her to begin with. He needed to get away – for both of their sakes.

War. Harry. Sirius.

He couldn't go anywhere. He was stuck. Stuck between a lifetime of loneliness, of longing for things to have been different, of what ifs – and a lifetime of hurting Nymphadora. He couldn't bear it – the thought of hurting her, though he could see that by staying he was doing just that. Sirius would understand and Harry didn't need him, he had his Godfather, what role could Remus possibly fill in the boy's life. He had the Weasleys who treated him like one their own and once Sirius was properly free, he'd have a home and a father figure to love him dearly.

Remus stood and stretched, taking in the view of London one last time. He'd leave tonight. Write to Dumbledore, offering his services away from the rest of the Order. He'd write to Sirius and explain why he'd had to leave, asking him to tell Harry he was sorry he'd had to go again. And he'd pen a letter to Tonks explaining… explaining…

"So, this is where you've been hiding? Gosh it's hot isn't it." She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that was several times too big for her and hung off one of her shoulders. Her hair was wet and sat around her shoulders – mousy brown not pink.

Remus closed his eyes. Maybe Tonks deserved her goodbye in person.

"Not hiding, just thinking and trying in vain to get some air."

She was next to him now, her arm brushing his. Too close. He stepped to his left slightly.

"Thinking?" He couldn't look at her.

"Mmm." It was now, or never. "Yes, I've been thinking…"

"About us?"

Remus blinked and looked down at her, "about us?"

"That's all I've been thinking about lately. Even though I've tried not to."

Remus turned back to the blinking lights of London, "There is no us to think of." He knew it was cruel, but it would be kinder in the end.

"But there could be."

He wasn't sure if it was the hope in her voice or her hand slipping into his which made him unwisely say, "I wish there could. But it can never happen."

She squeezed his hand tightly. "I wish there was something I could say, something I could do to make you see that isn't true."

Remus sighed and risked looking at her once more, she was lovely. Her hair, mousy brown, pink, purple, green – it didn't matter to him in the slightest. Though he thought physically she was stunning, it was her quick wit and kind heart that had drawn him to her and continued to pull at him, fighting against every defence he had developed. "It isn't what's best for you Nymphadora."

She pulled her hand from his and turned to face him, pulling on the arm furthest away from her to turn him too. "If you're going to infantilise me, the least you could do is respect my wish and not call me Nymphadora – oh, sorry I forgot," she laughed without humour, "you've decided for some reason you have the right to make decisions for me – what I should be called, who I get to be friends with – who I get to fall for…"

Remus closed his eyes tight. Fall for… he couldn't, she couldn't. He could hear the desperation in his voice now, he needed her to understand, he placed a hand on either side of her arms, "Tonks, I'm sorry for all of this. I never meant to decide for you – I never meant for it to get far enough for there to be any decisions! I just… I cannot let you throw your life away. I'm too old, too poor and too dangerous and you…"

"I'm what, too young, too naïve to make my own decisions?"

"You're too precious." He hadn't meant to shout it. "Tonks, I cannot even begin to think what I'd do if because of me, if, if…"

She nodded, her voice softer, "If something happened to me. Remus I'm an Auror. Danger has always been part of my life – well before I met you and with this war coming, it's a part of all our lives. Any one of us could walk out that door tomorrow and not come back."

"Don't say that. I couldn't… you have to…" Remus closed his eyes, trying not to give himself over to the emotion that was bubbling far too close to the surface.

"I know, and I take every precaution, I'm a trained dark wizard catcher Remus and I have every intention of sticking around for a long, long time. My point is, that you staying away from me doesn't make me any safer. It just hurts us both."

Remus tried not to move as he felt her hand cup his face, he tried but failed, not to lean into the palm of her hand, not to rest his own over hers. Told himself that taking that hand and turning it, kissing his way down her palm, her arm, before placing his hand on her waist and pulling her closer – that it was a very foolish idea.

"Remus, whether you're ready to admit it or not, there is an us, and I think, if you let us, we could be happy." Her hand had slid up his chest and was sitting on his shoulder.

He tried not to breath her in, warned himself not to rest his forehead against her own. "Maybe I should go away for a while. Give you space, time to forget me."

Tonks pulled back, though still in his arms, "Go away, where? Go away and leave Sirius, leave me? Remus, it's been months since you decided to put this distance between us and all it has done is clarified for me just what my feelings for you are and that they aren't going anywhere. Even when you keep pulling this noble prat bullshit."

Remus couldn't help but chuckle, "Noble prat bullshit? Bit harsh."

Her smile took his breath away, "Not nearly harsh enough if you ask me."

Sobering Remus removed his hand from Tonks' waist and instead took both her hands in his own. "Tonks, I won't deny that I have feelings for you – it would be pretty pointless after tonight, but I can't let you throw… sorry, - you're right, I shouldn't be making decisions for you; but when people find out… Tonks I couldn't bear to see anything happen to you – and because of me!"

Tonks pulled his hands up and kissed them. He closed his eyes, knowing without doubt that the next time he needed to conjure a Patronus, this moment, with her lips on his skin would be the one he'd call on.

"How about I make a decision for us for a change. Let's see where this goes…"

Remus opened his mouth to speak, but she squeezed his hands, pulling them towards her again, "Let me finish. Why don't we quietly see where this goes. No one need know. Except maybe Sirius – as you know, it'd be impossible to sneak around this house without him noticing."

Letting go of his hands, Tonks placed her palm once again on his cheek, dragging her thumb gently across his lips. He heard her, barely above a whisper say, "Please Remus. Let's just decide we're going to be happy. Let's just decide to try."

His head was furious but was drowned out almost instantly by his heart beating so loudly he was sure everyone inside Grimmauld Place would hear, as he pulled her tight to his body. She held on to him as this time he allowed his palm to sit on her cheek.

He watched as her hair slowly changed from mousy brown to vivid fuchsia. As their lips touched, he knew he'd never really have had the strength to walk away from her. If he had, he'd have done it a long time ago – way before he started seeing pink.

AN - Hope you enjoyed this one shot. Fav, follows, comments and reviews are, as always, all appreciated :). This was something a bit new to me - writing Remus remembering conversations, so do let me know if you liked it :)