A/N: …. 7 and a half weeks. Poor effort Mrs J ….

Thanks for all the feedback, it really does keep me motivated, even if it doesn't seem like it!

Mirabelle P deserves a very large round of applause for making me get this chapter up to scratch xx

It was very early on Tuesday morning when Remus discovered that the looming, sallow-skinned visage of Severus Snape was a very disconcerting image to wake up to. Disconcerting, bordering on downright frightening considering that the Potions Master was leering as he held his wand extremely close to Remus's heart.

As this unnerving scene registered in Remus's drowsy mind he was suddenly – and irrationally – convinced that Snape had finally cracked and was about to murder him. It was therefore understandable that Remus let out a high-pitched squawk and immediately began scrambling up the bed while he desperately tried to locate his wand.

"Dear, dear Lupin," Snape said softly, "you needn't fear me, I'm only following orders." The long nostrils dilated and he re-positioned his wand, running it rather threateningly up Remus's chest to halt right between his eyes. Remus barely resisted the urge to snarl as he suddenly recalled Sirius's warning that Snape would be performing his examination this morning so Remus could be given the all clear to return to work.

As this sunk in Remus's heart rate returned to normal and he belatedly realised that he was holding his bed sheet up to his chest in some sort of feeble defence against Snape's advances. He kept it there out of principle, bunched tightly in his fingers as he glared at Snape. "Very well," Remus said, trying to maintain a little dignity, "the sooner you're done the sooner I may get back to work."

Snape gave a cruel little smile. "Yes, how the children have suffered with no one to teach them that the best weapon when dealing with boggarts is emotional strength." He uttered the last two words as though they tasted repulsive leaving his mouth.

Remus sighed, sick of the endless insinuations from Snape that he was a shoddy teacher. "Take your complaints to McGonagall," Remus snapped tiredly. His temper was much closer to the surface than usual due to the embarrassment of cowering, however sleepily, from Snape. "If I'm so terrible, I'm sure she'll do something about it."

Snape's expression betrayed a tiny flash of surprise at Remus's angry response – he had obviously been expecting Remus's normal unaffected brush-off to his needling. Seemingly urged on by his slight advantage, Snape said snidely, "I would apply for the position myself, if I wasn't indispensable in my current post. But unfortunately I must suffer in the dungeon for safety reasons," heexhaled a falsely regretful sigh and then twitched his wand to continue his tests.

Remus buttoned his lip, kicking himself for speaking. He held his silence as he was poked and prodded, unwilling to egg Snape on when he was all but at his vindictive mercy. Snape however didn't need to be egged on. His malicious whisper began again almost at once. "You see, when the Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons are taught by someone incompetent, the worst that can happen is a misplaced jinx." His nasty smile was even more mocking as he went on, "But if my position was to be held by someone equally as inept as you, then the whole castle could go up in smoke."

"Oh I see," Remus said unable to stop himself from being bated any longer. "You teach potions in a valiant effort to keep us all safe?" Unfortunately his attempt at cool sarcasm was ruined when Snape's wand jabbed rather painfully into his thigh, causing him to wince. Snape's taunting leer broadened and Remus muttered meanly, "It's nothing to do with that Dark Mark on your arm – a private facility would call that bad press."

The remark did wipe the superior look from Snape's face but instead of making Remus feel better he just felt petty, a feeling that increased as Snape murmured bitterly, "Indeed Lupin, not worth the risk I'm sure they'd say."

Both men were silent as Snape finished his examination, waving his wand and interpreting the results, imaginary though they seemed to Remus. As far as he could tell, there was nothing discernible happening, just the occasional prickle of magic, in response to which Snape would furrow his eyebrows or purse his pallid lips. Remus found his attention drifting. He could see a man's silhouette through the privacy curtain, standing just to the left of the join. It was hard to tell for certain but Remus thought it was Sirius, if the scruffy hair was anything to go by. He would be standing guard, Remus reasoned. He was a little surprised that Sirius wasn't watching Snape more carefully, though he was grateful that his friend had not witnessed his cowardly scuttle from Snape upon awakening.

Finally Snape seemed ready to make his pronouncement. "I find no traces of curse magic, nor jinxes or even mild hexes. The only thing out of the ordinary is the amount of sugar in your system, but –" his dark eyes fell meaningfully on the monstrous (and nearly empty) Honeydukes box on the bedside table, "– that is likely to be self-inflicted. And in any case, sugar only affects Wolfsbane when it is mixed into the potion, so your questionable snacking habits should not affect its effects."

Remus just rolled his eyes at the jibe. If that was the best Snape could do he was certainly slipping.

"There is no lingering reason why your Wolfsbane potion shouldn't work at the next full moon," the Potions Master finished.

"Oh, speaking of," Sirius's voice piped up suddenly, sounding oddly chipper from the other side of the curtain, "Snape, you'll need to brew this month's batch under impartial supervision."

"Is that so?" Snape said through his yellowing teeth, glaring at Sirius's shadow on the curtain. "Could you not just import some?"

Sirius came around the partition, clearly trying his very best to remain professional, though his polite expression seemed rather fixed. Only his slightly red-rimmed eyes and stubble-shadowed cheeks betrayed that he had been up all night. To his credit, Sirius managed to maintain his carefully modulated tone as he continued speaking to the man he disliked so much. "No, you're a registered brewer, you've made that potion every month for the last six years – obviously you're competent, but Moody wants eyes on every stage this month, so we can rule out potion tampering at the source." A muscle flickered at the edge of Sirius's jaw and Remus could see quite easily how much his cordiality was costing him. "Longbottom will let you know who'll be testing the potion."

"Competent," Snape spat under his breath. "Longbottom knows where to find me," he said shortly, then turned on his heel and stalked from the room.

Sirius let out a little noise of amused indignation as he watched him go. "If I'd known all I had to do was be polite to get him to go away I would have done it years ago."

"Really?" Remus asked dubiously.

"Well, probably not," Sirius admitted cheekily. "Greasy git."

Remus huffed out a laugh. "So what's the plan now? I'm good to go?"

Sirius nodded. "Yep, once Poppy gives you the official all clear."

"And once he's had his breakfast," Madam Pomfrey put in. Her trolley preceded her through the curtains and she smiled at Remus. "I know you'll want to be on your way and I'll not hold you up. Eat and get dressed, then be off."

"Thanks," Remus said, glad that she wasn't making a fuss for once.

Remus was just tying his shoe laces when the doors to the hospital wing opened, flooding the quiet ward with the noise of babbling students on their way down to breakfast. That was good, he thought, in ten minutes they'd all be in the Great Hall and he'd be able to get back to his office without being questioned about his absence.

"Knock knock," said Auror Tonks, pink-haired and smiling as she paused next to the privacy divide.

"Good morning," Remus said, the sight of her suddenly reminding him of Sirius's ridiculous theory from the night before. As if this bubbly little thing would ever marry a dreary old werewolf. Sirius was plainly off his rocker.

"We're all good to go Auror Black," Tonks said brightly, addressing Sirius. "Quarters thoroughly checked. I can do the escort downstairs if you want to get home."

"Thanks Tonks," Sirius said, "you're very nearly late you know."

"Sorry, I got held up," she apologised, "but I'm here now. Let's get going if you're ready, Remus."

As he followed the young Auror from the hospital wing, leaving Sirius with a quick clap on the shoulder, Remus couldn't help but grumble, "I do not need an escort." He really was thoroughly sick of being ordered around, even if they did all mean well. "I'm quite capable of defending myself."

"I'm sure," Tonks said, "it's just that Sirius likes to avoid paperwork at all costs, and the number of forms that will be involved if you're attacked and have to defend yourself while under Auror protection will make him very very angry." She paused and gave Remus a significant look to emphasise her point. "Then I'll have to deal with it, so you'll be having an escort. Come along."

Remus knew when not to argue. He followed along, down through the castle, realising as he went that three days of being bed ridden made the four floor trek rather daunting. "Was there something exciting happening at the Ministry that held you up this morning?" Remus asked to change the subject.

"Nah," Tonks said, then she looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, "Can you keep a secret?"

Remus nodded. "Certainly."

"I was waiting in line for Soundgarden tickets," Tonks said conspiratorially, "they're coming over in April. It's so exciting, totally worth sleeping on the pavement."

"You slept on the pavement?" Remus repeated inshock. "Where? Why?"

"Yup, outside Brixton Academy," she said gleefully. "Tickets are first in first served, so I wasn't going to risk it." She looked a tiny bit guilty for a moment and added, "Although the muggles would think I was a total sell-out if they knew I'd softened the concrete with magic. Being cold and uncomfortable is all part of the experience apparently."

"I see… What sort of music does The Sound Garden play?" Remus asked, feeling like an old man. Sleeping on the ground just to see a band play?

"Rock," Tonks said. "You know, loud guitars and drums."

"Like Led Zeppelin?" Remus asked, dragging out the first noisy muggle band he could think of.

"A bit," Tonks nodded, with a somewhat indulgent smile. "Dirtier sounding though, more like punk if we're comparing it to that old seventies stuff."

"Oh, okay." Old seventies stuff. It really wasn't that long ago was it? Remus thought. "Quite, um, loud then?"

"Very. It's brilliant."

Remus was willing to take her at her word as she smiled wistfully. Surely anything that could make a face look so angelic couldn't be too terrible. "Is it important to you?" He asked, thinking of her magazines. "Music I mean."

"It is," she bobbed her head in agreement. "My Dad loves it – he said it was the only thing he and his brother had in common when he found out he was a wizard. He's a muggleborn, my dad, his brother didn't really get it, the whole magical world, but they always had records and concerts to share. He likes that old stuff – Queen and ACDC… He actually saw The Who live in Manchester in '69 –" Tonks stopped abruptly. "Sorry," she said, slightly embarrassed, "you didn't need my life story."

"I did ask," Remus reminded her. Her enthusiasm was infectious. "My parents listened to big band mostly. I believe I once heard my father refer to Poison as 'those cross-dressing clowns and their god-awful racket'."

"Well, he may have had a point," Tonks giggled, "I don't think I'll ever understand how spandex and brushed out perms became acceptable." Remus laughed too. His mood improved even more as they approached the door to his office.

"Alright I'll just nip in and give the place another check," Tonks said. "You stay here."

"I thought you'd already checked?" Remus asked, his good mood draining away as quickly as it came. He had absolutely had it with the endless coddling.

She gave him an almost pitying look. "I did, but you know, best to be cautious."

"Fine," Remus huffed and he leaned against the wall. This really was so over the top. Did no one think he was man enough to look after himself any more? His head hit the rough stone of the corridor wall with a dull and mildly painful thud as he slumped in defeat.

"Are you done pouting?" asked a jaunty voice a few minutes later. Tonks was back, her pink spikey head poked out from his own doorway to tease him.

"I'm not –" he denied hastily, but gave up at once. "Am I allowed in my room yet?"

"Yes, I've banished all boogie men." Tonks lifted her chin as though she was a survivor of a great battle, but then Remus was quite sure he saw her wink.

"Shut up," Remus muttered not knowing if he wanted to laugh or shut the door in her mocking face.

He entered the room to find it just as he'd left it when McGonagall had collected him for their evening walk on Friday. The pile of marked essays sat on his desk, his tea pot and cup sat next to them. The blanket he'd had over his knees was thrown carelessly over his arm chair. Not that he was so elderly as to need a knee blanket all the time, he realised now that his chill that night had been due to the faulty potion. It was strange to see his room exactly as he had left it – so much had happened in the intervening days, he felt like it should be different somehow too. The rest of his little sitting room was filled with books – the shelves on the walls were stacked two deep, there was a pile of heavy text books next to his battered sofa that served the dual purpose of coffee table and sometimes foot stool. A thick novel was pressed open butterfly style on top of this makeshift table, its spine irreparably creased no doubt, but that didn't bother him – good books were meant to be tatty.

He crossed to the door that lead to his sleeping quarters and bathroom. "Thank you Auror Tonks," he said, his grouch lifting again now that he was back in his own place. "I'm sure I can look after myself from here."

"Good," Tonks said. "I'll see you tonight, 'bout nine okay?"

"Er, no," Remus said confused. "Nine? For what?"

"For guard duty," Tonks said as if it was a standing arrangement, which it most certainly wasn't. "Moody has been very clear," she continued, "you're to have someone on duty whenever you're sleeping. I'm first up."

"You don't need to –" Remus started, his infuriation returning in full measure. "For heaven's sake, I will ward the door and set intruder alarms. Surely that will be enough?"

Tonks took a step back and held up her hands innocently. "You can argue that with Moody. But unless he tells me otherwise I'll be here at nine. Have a good day back at work Professor."

It had been a difficult day. One where Harry and Draco nearly had a stand up fight over the Quidditch match in the middle of his Defence class. Then in the early evening Remus had been thoroughly chastised by the gruff Head of the Auror department for not taking the impact of his own near-destruction seriously enough. He was grateful that Moody only spoke to him through the fire rather than in person – he was almost sure he would have suffered a prod or two from the infamous cane for his impertinent suggestion that he was capable of self-defence and a sturdy colloportus. And so, at nine pm, Remus grudgingly opened the door to Auror Tonks. Her pleasant hello and beaming smile only managed to smother his annoyance a little.

Tonks was dressed like some sort of down-on–her-luck farmer in a baggy flannel shirt that swallowed her hands and torn jeans along with the ever-present heavy boots. Her metamorphmagus skills were on display where her hair was concerned. Rather than short, tufty and bright it now hung well past her shoulders in dark waves. Remus thought it made her look much more like Sirius's cousin.

"Why aren't you in your uniform?" Remus asked as he let her inside. It was unlike a minion of the strict Moody to be on duty in their civvies.

"Because, if a student – or the poisoner – comes in, Moody doesn't want them to know you have an Auror guard." She sat herself comfortably on his sagging sofa and pulled several bound stacks of parchment from her bag.

"Then what will they think you're doing in here?" The speed of the Hogwarts rumour mill rivalled that of light when it wanted to, and Remus didn't fancy being the subject of it.

Tonks blinked and raised an eyebrow, then she said lightly, "You're allowed a girlfriend aren't you?"

"Actually I'm not sure…" Remus said honestly. "Did you check with Minerva?" The thought of telling such a lie, and then being reprimanded for it seemed like far too much trouble.

"She knows you have someone guarding you," Tonks said. The whole thing didn't seem to bother her in the slightest – she'd drawn a quill from her bag by then and had turned the first few pages of parchment in her lap.

Remus fidgeted for a moment, uncomfortable with the situation. He just wanted to sit and read, but he wouldn't be able to relax with her there. "You do realise the rumours you will have to deal with if a student does see you and think that we're…" he trailed off, not wanting to be crass despite his displeasure.

"Shagging?" Tonks supplied for him.

"You and Sirius are definitely related," Remus muttered.

"I won't have to deal with any rumours," Tonks informed him. "No one will recognise me with different hair and muggle clothes, and you can just tell them I'm a friend, visiting while I was in the area. Besides, how many students come to your office after nine in the evening?"

"None," Remus sighed in defeat, unable to stop a touch of petulance from creeping into his voice as he added, "I'm going to have a wash and go to bed now – is that alright?"

"I'm not the boss," Tonks said shortly. "I'm just here to jump in front of the A.K. if you need me to. You don't need to be so hostile."

"I wasn't –" Remus stuttered, taken aback to be told off, and feeling like an ungrateful clod for not grasping the full implications of guarding an assassination target. "I didn't mean to be."

"I'm just going to sit out here and fill in my reports, I won't bother you." she insisted, turning her page and not looking at him.

Remus was stunned by her snappish tone, and felt rather guilty for causing it. He closed his bedroom door thinking that he should have known that beneath Tonks's sunny and amiable facade was a bit of sharp steel. Aurors couldn't be faint of heart or flighty damsels after all.