It had been a truly horrendous three-day assignment hunting the escaped criminal, Sirius Black. There was something weirdly draining about having to fake it constantly, pretending to earnestly want to catch him, pretending to earnestly believe that the 'sightings' might be genuine.
As soon as she'd been free of it all, Tonks had beetled round to Grimmauld to give her cousin a hug long enough to make him squirm and start grumbling that he would likely die of old age before the ministry caught up with him, seeing as he was basically under house arrest, for which he blamed her and Moony, and everyone else he could be bothered counting off on his long, expressive fingers.
She thought he was secretly pleased.
The darkling look he gave her from beneath his dishevelled black hair had that characteristic intensity, but the crossness seemed fake. If anything, she thought he looked relieved.
Perhaps her bad tempered, slovenly, good-looking, scheming, dramatically lazy Azkaban-escapee of a cousin had been worried about her?
Everyone was out, so they went up to the roof to hang out with Buckbeak, and go for a fly in the restricted airspace that sat within the bounds of Grimmauld's magics.
She knew Sirius liked getting out. Even if it was just into the sky above his mouldering ancestral home and its overgrown garden, a tangle of weeds and jagged rose bushes growing nothing but thorns and misery.
She could do that for him. Be a bit of company, give him an opportunity to feel smug about being Buckbeak's favourite, make him feel important and loved for a little while.
It helped with the pressure in her chest.
But she was exhausted. It had been three days of gruelling fakery, and what she really wanted was- well, no. What she should really want was to go to bed. What she actually really wanted was for Remus to get home. And ideally, go to bed with her. But failing that, she'd settle with seeing him again.
Annoyingly, and also helpfully, Sirius mentioned Moony wasn't due back until after four.
She had to look away for a moment, because the amused glint in his eye made her want to pour her heart out, and that wouldn't help anything at all.
Tonks ignored Sirius' low chuckle as she headed back downstairs to the room they kept made up for her, changed into her spare pyjamas, and crashed on the bed.
She'd overslept. It was dark and chilly as she made her way in the direction of the kitchen, dragged out of bed by the idea of a hot cup of tea.
And Remus.
Tonks decided that she should at least be honest with herself, even if she couldn't be with anyone else, in any other area of her life.
At work, lies. At home, more lies. With the Order… perhaps fewer lies? But still a lot of faking. And the last thing she wanted to do was make things awkward for him. Or get rostered on for more jobs with Dung instead of him.
Light spilling out of the kitchen told her someone was up, but the slippery slick murmuring voice wasn't his.
Tonks paused, socks silent on the carpet, and deliberated for a moment. She decided she had no morals anyway, and pulled an extendable ear out of her pyjama pocket.
After all, there was a reason she kept all her clothing well stocked with the horrible things.
"…fact remains that accurate information of some sort is required by the Dark Lord. If I am to be of any use to the Order-"
"-it is imperative that your cover remain intact. I do understand, Severus," It was astounding that he could sound so calm and reasonable, even while interrupting the slimeball.
"In that case-"
"I said no. We will find you something else to leak."
There was a pause.
"Metamorphmagi are known to be sexually deviant, but even they draw the line somewhere above werewolves. This fit of gallantry won't serve you,"
Tonks braced against the rush of rage that surged like lava through her.
"It's time for you to leave, Severus," Remus' voice was mild, gentle even, but it sent a chill down her spine.
There was a softly horrible sound that she rather thought was Snape chuckling.
The decision was made before she'd finished stuffing the extendable ear back into her pocket.
Tonks ambled into the kitchen, yawning hugely, and privately delighted that Remus was sitting at the table, facing her, and Snape was diagonally opposite him, so she could pretend not to have seen him at all.
Perfect.
"Missed you," she said sleepily, leaning down to kiss Remus square on the mouth, keeping her body in the way to hide his startled expression from Snape. She winked, stroked the side of his face in a way she hoped looked overly familiar, kissed him again briefly (because why not?) and let her hand linger on his chest and shoulder as she made her way over to the bench to fill the kettle. She glanced back, 'noticing' Snape.
"Oh hey. What news from the forces of darkness?"
Any surprise on Snape's face had been hidden by a look of dry scepticism.
"Nothing to concern you," he sneered.
"Tea?" she offered, pulling two mugs out of the cupboard with one hand, and waving a third at Snape.
His lip curled.
"I suppose that is why Lupin feels the movements of the Auror department ought to remain unknown, despite the fact that it is one of the few things that could be reasonably ascertained and shared without risking serious harm to any members of the Order?"
Tonks glanced from Snape to Remus, and back again.
"Aw, Snape, you should know by now when he's jerking your chain," she said breezily, "Aurors are in corporate training most of next week- the usual Ministry guff about policies and procedures. Should be a lighter presence on the ground if your lot are looking to make trouble,"
His sneer became more pronounced.
"They are not my lot," he said, voice oozing with distain.
"Excellent," she said brightly, "Then it'll be a great week, with no muggle baiting or mysterious disappearances, won't it?"
He cast her a dirty look and turned back to Remus.
"I need something before Wednesday."
He cast Tonks another disgusted look, stood, and stalked out.
Tonks finished making the tea as she waited for the clunk of the front door closing.
"Pity," she said, taking the chair next to Remus, and putting a steaming mug down in front of him, "I'm convinced I could've come up with some lovely, punny innuendo to really set his teeth on edge. Something about animal magnetism and howling with ecstasy,"
Remus let out a reluctant huff of amusement.
"That was probably foolish,"
"Was it?" she asked, letting the sadness leak through her.
He looked at her quickly, grey eyes surprised.
He squashed it though, smoothed over the moment with one of those mild, amused expressions.
"Unwise, then. It will be all over the Order before tomorrow."
Tonks took a sip of tea and regarded him over the top of her mug.
"So?"
He opened his mouth, then shut it again. He ran his hands through his hair and tried again.
"I know it's ridiculous, but at least there's something vaguely dignified about celibacy. A pity snog…" he paused, "I know you meant well-"
"Not a pity snog," she cut him off, "And I really hope you're not too attached to being vaguely dignified."
He blinked at her.
"Look, don't give that smug slimeball the satisfaction. Either date me, or fake date me, whichever you'd prefer, but don't for one second think about undoing that rather marvellous thing I just did."
"He knows you were faking,"
She held his gaze for a moment, heartbeat loud.
"You know I wasn't."
He leaned his face on his hand in that way he had when he was struggling to keep an expression hidden. He rubbed his forehead, as though tired. Tonks waited and took another mouthful of hot tea to smother the sudden jittery nerves that had started up, now that Snape was gone, and she was sat here with this utterly adorable, mild mannered werewolf whose mouth tasted faintly of chocolate.
"Also, for the record," she said, when he still didn't say anything, "I would've said that was more of a chaste kiss than a snog."
He was hiding behind both hands now. It looked almost natural, like he'd had a long day. Which he probably had. But she knew him well enough now to know he was just hiding.
"Why?" he asked quietly, from behind his hands.
"Limited duration and lack of tongues,"
He let out a choked sound of reluctant amusement.
"That's not what I meant,"
"Yeah, I know, but I've put my cards on the table, and you won't even look at me, so I'm starting to freak out a bit."
There was a pause and he moved his hands. They were still covering most of his face, but those familiar grey eyes were now visible, limpid with anxiety.
"You don't really mean it," he said, and she wasn't sure if the tone was hope or despair.
"Yeah, I do," she said.
"I'm a werewolf."
"Shock-horror-scandal, whatever will my mother say,"
"What will she say?"
"So far mostly, 'oh, I remember Remus, sweet boy' and 'bring him round for dinner, darling, I'll make a lasagne',"
She was rewarded with another strangled sound, but his eyes disappeared again behind those hands she'd spent months fantasising about.
"I really did miss you, you know,"
For a moment, she thought she'd pushed him too far. He turned away completely, leaning away from her, a sort of reluctant, uncomfortable, sideways shift…but then his hand twitched, almost as though he was having an argument with it, then steadied, and he moved it towards her slightly, and turned it palm up on the tabletop.
Tonks clapped a hand over her mouth in surprised delight, and slipped her other hand into his.
It was… weirdly personal. His hands were warm and Remus-y and it wasn't fake at all, and she had a sort of early-teen-hysterics bubble of giddy over-excitement, and when his fingers closed around hers and he turned back to look at her, all shy eyes and his face still half hidden by his hand, the energy that fizzed between them had her hiding her own face in her arm, tears smarting with the overwhelm of it all.
Apparently, happiness was when the man you fancied offered to hold your hand.
They had to sit there for quite a while like that, holding hands, and catching each other's eyes and looking away and hiding smiles, before they acclimatised enough to finish drinking tea, and start acting normally.
And it was an act, because Tonks had never been so overcome with sudden shyness before, ever.
Later, after they'd bumbled their way through dinner with Sirius, who kept squinting at them like he knew he'd missed something, and after they'd trundled upstairs, and wished him goodnight, and the door had closed behind him and they were further down the corridor, not saying anything and not touching, Tonks found she was awash with anxiety.
She grabbed his hand and dragged him into the spare room, flinging the door shut and turning to him in what was bordering on panic.
"So I really thought I could play this cool, you know, because I know you're likely flipping out, and it's not like I've never- you know, but apparently, all this espionage and general pretence is doing my head in and I just can't pretend with you, I can't, Remus, I fancy the pants off you but I'm really nervous now, because what if I stuff it up and do something awful and -oh my god, I'd just woken up, my breath must have been dreadful!" She stopped pacing and stared at him, aghast.
His eyes crinkled at the corners, and her heart gave a lurch. She just wanted him. When he smiled at her like that, with his eyes alight, and the crow's feet, and that fond look-
"Perhaps it's for the best you didn't snog me then,"
She stared at him.
"Oh you absolute bastard, how can you just stand there all cool as cucumber, while I'm here, having a nervous breakdown?"
"Er, well," he said, and it was a little sheepish, "I was, how did you put it, flipping out earlier, but now that I see you're flipping out, I suddenly feel much more confident. Though I would like to keep my pants on this evening, if that's all right with you. I am quite far out of my depth here. I might be delirious, it's hard to tell."
She stared at him for a moment, and then, with an odd breathy noise she hadn't meant to make, threw herself at him.
The glorious thing was, his arms folded round her and held on just as tightly as she held on to him. There was something about that close, full-body contact that just… stripped away a layer of fear and…
"Tonks… I have to know… did Andromeda really offer to bake me a lasagne?"
Although he said it lightly, and it was framed to sound funny, there was something in the lightness of the tone that told her it really meant something. She was laughing into his neck and he was so warm and so Remus, and so heart-breakingly comforting despite the tension and tightness, and the wiry tautness of his embrace just felt so right, and it was so perfect and so awkward and he had to know. Tonks swallowed the giddy laughter.
"Yes, she did, she's quite convinced that if she could just have you round for dinner, then I'd stop insisting we're just friends. And before you ask, yes, they both know you're a werewolf, Dad wants to take you fishing, and I overheard them last week scheming about ways to set us up. Apparently, you make-" her eyes filled with tears from nowhere, and she gulped, "You make me happy," this last part came out in a croak and she burst into tears.
The quality of the hug changed. It was as though that admission released something in him, like all that tightness faded away. It wasn't that he was holding her more loosely, or even that he'd moved particularly, it was just that somehow everything was softer.
"Remus," she said, after she'd stopped crying and started really enjoying being held in this cozy, snuggly way, (he was tentatively stroking her hair!), "Do you want to go to bed?"
There was a pause.
"You mean…?"
"I mean, climb into bed, cuddle up and go to sleep."
He let out a small sigh that suggested to her he thought this was an excellent plan.
"Yes, let's."