Chapter Six: Confession
"Hand me that Spellotape, would you, Remus?"
Lupin blinked and looked up. Molly Weasley was balanced precariously on a step-stool, holding the edge of a huge banner against the wall. Lupin stood up and crossed to her, handing her the roll of tape. She tore off a piece and stuck it to the banner, then pressed it against the wall.
"There," she said proudly, climbing down from the step-stool to admire her handiwork. "That's festive, I think."
The banner read CONGRATULATIONS RON AND HERMIONE: SCHOOL PREFECTS.
The letters had come that morning, telling Harry, Ron, Hermione, the twins and Ginny of the school books they would need. Ron's and Hermione's letters also had prefects badges inside. Lupin had said nothing but could not help feeling mildly surprised by the fact that Ron, and not Harry, had been made a prefect. Dumbledore must have his reasons, Lupin thought.
Then again, Harry was thrilled to be returning to Hogwarts at all. He had won his disciplinary hearing, but Lupin and Sirius had been appalled to learn that he'd had to face the entire Wizengamot. For the whole court to be present for a simple disciplinary hearing of a student was unheard of, and spoke very clearly of Fudge's new animus against Harry. It was only Dumbledore's intervention--and the testimony of the Squib Arabella Figg that had turned things Harry's way.
Beyond this was the news that Lucius Malfoy had been at the Ministry, had met Fudge just after Harry's hearing.
"Throwing more gold at Fudge, no doubt," Sirius commented darkly.
But Lupin found he couldn't dwell on the events of the past few days for very long. His mind kept wandering, back to Tonks. Back to what had happened in his bedroom on the day of his last transformation.
His stomach roiled; he felt sick. He had not said a word to Tonks since then, not that he had tried very hard to do so. Tonks, for her part, had done her best to avoid him. The few times he'd actually seen her, she'd glanced at him and quickly looked away, quickly left the room, stumbling every time in her haste to flee his presence.
The worst part of it all was that he really had been looking forward to a friendship with Tonks. He liked her, a lot. She was smart, she was funny. She had a youthful energy and enthusiasm that was infectious. She took her work seriously, but not herself; she was, in a word, refreshing.
That's not the only reason you like her, said the voice in Lupin's head. He grimaced and looked down at the floor. You're attracted to her, admit it.
Yes, he was. He clenched his fists and looked down at the floor. It had been ages, years, since he'd felt any sort of attraction for a woman. It had been so long, he took for granted that he'd ever feel this way for anyone again. He certainly never dreamed he'd have these feelings for a girl, a woman fifteen years his junior, a girl with constantly changing hair colors and wild clothes. But there it was. Since meeting Tonks, very few moments had gone by in Lupin's mind without some thought of this young woman with her sparkling brown eyes and ready smile.
And then there were the dreams. Sexy, erotic dreams, dreams of her wet lips, her tongue, her flesh, her taste, dreams that caused him to sit up in bed, in a cold sweat, his groin throbbing, his mind reeling.
He shook his head and told himself to get busy, to assist Molly with the decorating for the party that would happen in a few hours. Keeping busy kept his mind from wandering, from dwelling on Tonks's porcelain skin, the tears that had stained her cheeks when he'd snapped at her and frightened her.
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The party was in full swing. Ron Weasley was in a particularly good mood, having received a brand new broom as a reward for his becoming prefect. Hermione Granger, was, as usual, focused on matters entirely outside being social; already she had drawn Lupin into a conversation about the unfair treatment of house elves, comparing the prejudice against them to the prejudice against all non-human creatures, including werewolves. Lupin couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. She was almost too clever, too passionate for her own good. He also couldn't help notice that Ron was stealing looks at her every chance he got.
Lupin excused himself to fetch some more punch, feeling as well as he could feel considering he was halfway through his cycle. The three weeks where he didn't have to take his potion were always precious to him. Not having to taste the horrible liquid as it burned his throat, leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.
He was halfway to the punch bowl when he spotted her.
Tonks was pouring herself some punch. She looked up, met his eyes, and promptly spilled half her punch down the front of her robes.
Lupin swallowed. She looked very lovely. Her hair was blonde and cut in a stylish sort of bob; she'd even changed her eye-color to blue.
She glanced to the right, to the left. Looking for an escape route, no doubt, thought Lupin sadly. But she didn't move. She seemed rooted to the spot.
"Hello," said Lupin, from across the punch bowl.
"H-hi," she said, blinking and looking away, then back at him.
"How are you?" Lupin asked, feeling his mouth go dry and his tongue get thick.
"Fine," she said shortly.
"How's the punch?" he asked, and immediately sent a swift mental kick to his own backside. "How's the punch?" Not, "Forgive me for scaring you that day" or "I'm so sorry I snapped at you, please don't be angry with me" or even "You look beautiful tonight" but "How's the punch?"
"It's good," she said. "I mean, I guess it is, I haven't tasted it yet. I'm wearing some of it, though. It smells good."
She was talking very fast, as she had when they first met; her voice sounded nervous. Lupin felt his stomach plummet. She was terrified of him; she looked like a cornered rabbit, her eyes huge, her whole body tense, ready for flight.
"Tonks," he said. "About--about that day. In my room--"
"Forget it," she said quickly, and now she seemed to find her legs. She moved away from the punch bowl and started walking away from him.
"Tonks, please," he said, feeling a little desperate. "I want to explain."
"You don't have to do that," said Tonks, moving to a corner of the room, still avoiding his gaze.
"I want to explain," he repeated, following her. She stopped and turned, trapped in the corner. Lupin stepped back, not wanting to crowd her, not wanting to scare her again.
She finally looked up at him. Her eyes were steely now. Determined.
"Fine," she said. "Explain."
Lupin nodded, but suddenly found it difficult to talk again. "I'd rather-- not go into it here."
"Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it here," Tonks said firmly, even as her voice shook slightly.
Lupin let out a breath. She wasn't going to make it easy for him. That was her right. But he couldn't possibly tell her in this room, with all these people. With Sirius possibly watching them. Or Alastor Moody, with his spinning, all-seeing magical eye.
"Please," he said, not really having to work all that hard at sounding pleading and desperate.
She looked into his eyes and for a moment, a long moment, said nothing. But then she nodded and put her punch cup on a nearby table.
"Lead the way, then," she said, her voice frosty.
He nodded to her and walked quickly to the kitchen door, not looking back. He heard her stumble and swear under her breath, but she caught herself and followed him out the door. Up the stairs.
"Out back," he said quickly, turning left and going down the dark hallway.
"Wait," she said, and she pulled her wand from her robes. "Lumos." Her wand- tip illuminated.
"Don't think I need to be stumbling round in the dark," she said briskly.
They made their way outside. The night air was sultry and Tonks extinguished her wand tip and pulled off her robes. Lupin immediately wished she hadn't.
She was wearing jeans again, jeans that hugged her in all the right places. Lupin blinked and tried to focus on the antics of a raccoon determinedly raiding a wastecan in the alleyway nearby. But his eyes strayed back to her, and her black t-shirt, that clung to her compact, muscular, curvy body. To the swell of her breasts. The sleeves were cut off, revealing pale, lean arms, the right of which was decorated with a tattoo. A scrolling, feminine tattoo that snaked around her bicep. Dear god, it was sexy. She was sexy. He wondered if she had other tattoos. Where they might be hidden.
Knock it off, you randy bastard! he thought furiously. Acting like a bloody teenager.
She tossed her robes onto a rusting garden chaise.
"So, explain yourself," she said firmly, folding her arms across her chest. Lupin blinked and forced his mind to clear of lustful thoughts of her.
"I'm ill," he said slowly.
"You've mentioned that," said Tonks dryly.
"You don't understand," said Lupin. "My illness is--permanent."
"You're a werewolf," she said, staring at him with her piercing eyes.
Lupin opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Then he spoke. "How--how did you know?"
"Hermione Granger told me," she said coolly.
Nosy brat, he thought, but he didn't say this.
"I probably would have figured it out on my own," said Tonks. "I had my suspicions, anyway."
"Right," said Lupin, at a loss for what to say. He felt as though the rug had been pulled from under him. He had wanted to be the one to control this conversation, to lead it, to tell her in his own words, to explain why he had lashed out at her, why he so desperately needed to take every drop of that potion in the week leading up to his transformation. But once again she had surprised him, had caught him off guard.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.
Lupin swallowed against his dry throat. He had forgotten to get himself any punch.
"I--I suppose," he said slowly, "I was--ashamed." He blushed and looked at the ground. Well, this admission wasn't untrue. He'd always been somewhat ashamed of what he had become, even if his fate was not his fault. Even if he told himself over and over again that there were plenty of others without his condition who were prejudiced against werewolves without him adding to the mix.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," said Tonks.
"I know," said Lupin dully. Suddenly he felt like a child, as though Tonks were some schoolteacher lecturing him. As though he was something young and silly and inexperienced.
"You should have told me," said Tonks. "I would have understood. I'm not some delicate thing, okay? I am an Auror. I think I can deal with learning a friend of mine is a werewolf."
"Forgive me," he said quickly, wanting desperately for her to understand. "I don't know why--I kept it from you. I--you're--" His voice trailed off. He couldn't look at her, but he felt her steady gaze on his burning face.
"What?" she pressed, her voice no longer hard.
"You're very lovely," he said in a low voice, wishing that his stupid face would stop burning. "You're very young and very lovely and I suppose--I didn't want to expose you to--to what I am. I'm very unlovely and I just thought--I didn't want you to see me--at my worst. I didn't want to put you through it." His voice trailed off again when he saw her looking at him, a hand on her hip, her eyebrows arched high so that they disappeared behind the thick blonde fringe.
"I'm now painfully aware that the reasoning behind my silence was entirely sexist and medieval," he said, laughing nervously.
Tonks gave a short laugh and rolled her eyes. "Just a bit."
"That's the problem with us old blokes," said Lupin, relieved to feel that the heat in his face was receding from his face, his neck, his ears. "We're not quite used to modern women. The sort who can look out for themselves."
"You're not old," said Tonks, and now color was rising in her cheeks, making her look younger and even prettier. "And you're not unlovely."
She smiled at him shyly. Lupin felt his heart begin to race. She had just complimented him, sort of. She hadn't told him he was young and handsome, but that he wasn't old and unlovely. It was not that big a deal. But his heart was pounding and his palms had begun to tingle. He blinked at tried to squelch these ridiculous feelings, these schoolboy feelings, but they persisted. He was reacting as though she'd told him she was madly in love with him and wanted to--what?
"Thanks," said Lupin awkwardly. "And thank you for understanding. About-- you know."
"That?" said Tonks, in a voice that sounded like she was striving to be casual but not quite succeeding. "No problem."
They said nothing for a moment, only looked at each other. She still looked rather shy, but her eyes were fixed in his, and she seemed to be moving a bit closer to him. He caught a whiff of something. Perfume? Tonks didn't seem the type to wear perfume. But he smelled it. Vanilla. Delicious.
"I--I like you, Remus," she said, her voice slightly breathy. Lupin felt his heart pounding. She couldn't possibly mean--no, that was ridiculous.
"I like you, too," he said, his voice feeling stuck in his throat.
"I mean," said Tonks. "I--I like you." She blinked at looked at him again, and her eyes were different. Yes, she did mean what Lupin thought she meant.
"Tonks," he said slowly. "I think--"
"I guess that's forward of me," she said, blushing again. "Probably more of that modern woman stuff you're not used to."
Lupin laughed nervously. Oh, if you only knew what I was really thinking, he thought, feeling a rush of blood to his--nether regions. No, he couldn't. He couldn't think about her that way.
All right, he could. But he would not go down that road with her. She could tell him she accepted him, his condition, that she wasn't afraid, that she understood, but there would always be that risk, the risk that the potion would stop working, that he would become a threat to her. No, he needed to keep his distance. However badly he wanted to reach for her, crush her against him, taste her bow-shaped mouth.
"It's very flattering," he said thickly. "But, you see, Tonks. It's, well, it wouldn't be--safe. I'd be dangerous for you."
"I like danger," she said.
Oh, dear god, thought Lupin. She was very close to him now.
"Tonks--"
"D'you like me?" she asked. Good lord, the girl--no, woman--was direct.
"I told you I did." Run, Remus, run, he thought. Don't let her get any closer to you.
"That's not what I meant," she said. So close now. Her body was inches from his. She was heady with the scent of vanilla. He was dizzy. Run.
"Nymphadora," he choked. "I--can't."
"Don't call me Nymphadora," murmured Tonks. She was against him now. Pressed against him. She had taken his hands in hers. He couldn't breathe.
"Tonks--"
But he couldn't talk anymore, because her lips brushed against his. Had he had breath to spare he might have gasped. The blood pounding in his ears rushed to his groin. The kiss was innocent, really. The lightest press of her lips against his. And yet it was so very erotic Lupin thought he might pass out. He pulled away.
"Tonks," he said, breathing heavily.
"What?" She looked surprised and hurt.
"We--can't," he said.
"You--don't want--"
"I do," said Lupin, his voice thick and choked with emotion. "I do. But-- it's too complicated. I--I don't--I haven't--my condition."
"I'm not afraid of that--"
"I know you're not," said Lupin, backing away from her, wishing his mouth would stop tingling. "It's not that. I'm the one who is afraid. For what-- could happen. To you."
"Remus, come on--"
"Tonks, please," Lupin begged. "This is not easy for me. I--I care about you. Very much. And it's because I care that I can't--do this. However badly I might want to. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. If I made something happen to you."
"But--Hermione told me you take a potion," said Tonks, looking still more hurt. "As long as you take your potion you're safe. That's why you--got angry with me that day. Because you needed your potion so badly."
"The potion keeps me from being dangerous," said Lupin. "That's true. But I don't know how long it will work for me. I've already had to increase the dosage once. And I can only increase the dosage a few more times before taking it becomes more dangerous than my affliction itself. In a few years Wolfsbane Draught might be no good to me at all anymore. I'll go back to the way I was. I'd--hurt you. Hurt myself. Please, don't--don't make this more difficult than it is."
Tonks opened her mouth to protest, but then seemed to think better of it, and nodded. She looked hurt, but she forced a mile.
"I understand," she said. "I'm sorry." A pause. "Friends, then."
"Friends," he said. She held out her right hand, and he shook it, trying to ignore the tingles racing up his arm, the tingling still happening on his mouth.
They stood in silence for a moment; the raccoon in the alleyway managed to dislodge the lid of the wastecan and was rummaging round inside for scraps.
"Does it hurt?" Tonks asked. "Being a werewolf, I mean."
"It did," said Lupin. "The potion helps with the pain. The potion eases the pain of transforming, and it keeps me calm. With it I just turn into a wolf like any other. I don't feel the need to attack."
"And without it?" She was watching him intently. He forced himself to look at her.
"Without it, I become a monster," he said, his voice shaking just a bit. "A man and a wolf at the same time but--but with this--this bloodlust. I have no control. I want only to rip and tear everything apart. Others. Myself. There's no desire in me but to--to taste blood."
Tonks nodded, but her eyes had a thin film of tears on them.
"I don't want your pity," Lupin said roughly.
"I'm not offering any pity," said Tonks. "I just--when did it happen?"
Lupin swallowed. "I was ten years old," he said softly. "I'll never forget that day. A full moon. The most beautiful full moon I think I've ever seen. A harvest moon. I lived in the country with my parents. They were--well-to- do sorts. They liked to throw big parties, invite half the village. That night, they threw a big party, outside. We lived on an estate near some woods. I was bored at the party; there were no other children there to play with. So I wandered off. Into the woods."
He paused, and swallowed again. He hadn't told this story to anyone in years. Not in its entirety, anyway.
"My parents didn't notice at first," said Lupin. "I was always running off into the woods. I loved the woods. There were no other children nearby, no other families with children. I had no friends, really. Just the woods. The trees and the bugs and this pathetic little stream that to me was like a giant river. The moon was so bright that night it was almost like day. I remember. And it was autumn, and the leaves had fallen, so the moonlight penetrated everything. I ran off, into the woods, like I'd done hundreds of times."
He paused again, feeling a lump in his throat, feeling his body tense as the memories came rushing back to him. He'd been leaping across boulders in the stream. Skipping stones. Smiling up at the moon.
"It happened very fast. One moment I was leaping onto the bank of that stream and the next--this monster came out of nowhere. I didn't run. I just stared at it. I couldn't fathom that it might be dangerous. It just looked pathetic. Its eyes--they weren't cruel. They were haunted. Afraid. Desperate. At least that's what I thought. I think I even tried to talk to it.
"I'd heard of werewolves, of course. You don't grow up in a magical family without hearing of them, and all the other dangerous magical creatures in existence. But when I saw one I--I remember being fascinated, not scared. For a moment there, when I looked at this thing in front of me, it was as if--as if we understood each other. I thought, 'so I'm looking at a werewolf. Interesting. It's not so bad.' And then it attacked."
Lupin turned away from her, not wanting her to see his eyes, which were burning.
"It didn't hurt that much," he said. "Odd, really. The wolf ripped into my flesh and it bled like the devil but it didn't hurt. I screamed, of course, but not because it hurt. Not even because I was frightened. I screamed because I was surprised. Because I felt--betrayed. Just like a child. 'I never did anything to you. Why are you attacking me? Why'd you bite me?'
" I wasn't that far from the house. That's probably what saved my life, looking back, that I didn't wander off too far, that the stream behind the house was close. And the fact that the damn moonlight was so bright. The werewolf let go of me and ran off. I don't know why it did. I saw my blood dripping on its teeth."
Lupin blinked and looked down, but he did not look at Tonks. He felt, rather than saw her next to him. She was silent.
"I managed to stand up. I was bleeding from this gash in my side. I thought my guts would fall out of me, but I was walking back toward the house. I didn't cry. My mother saw me and became hysterical. She and my father carried me back to the house and we went straight to St. Mungo's, where I was very ably patched up by the healers and given a Blood Replenishing potion. The healer treating me told my parents I was lucky to be alive. Lucky. I didn't feel so lucky when the next full moon came round."
Tonks was next to him, and she'd taken his hand. This time he didn't pull away.
"What--what happened to you?" she asked. "After--"
"My parents didn't know what to do," Lupin went on. "No cure, no way to control me. I was ten years old and I had the strength of a giant and this blind rage, this drive to hurt things. To make things bleed. The only thing they could do was lock me in the basement and put wards round it to prevent me from escaping. But that--that only made me angry. I lashed out--at myself."
"How--how is it you went to Hogwarts?" Tonks asked.
"Dumbledore," said Lupin. "He's the most fearlessly compassionate man I know. Perhaps to a fault. He wrote to my parents and told me that under no circumstances were they to prevent me from attending the school. He insisted that having me there, learning magic, might help me learn how to control myself when I transformed."
"But--but you didn't learn," said Tonks. It was not a question.
"No, I didn't," said Lupin. "Dumbledore realized even before I came to school that he had a lot more on his hands than some eleven year old kid with a bad temper. They put up the Whomping Willow and every month I would be taken to Hogsmeade, to the Shrieking Shack. Everyone thought it was haunted, all the screams and ripping that was coming from it. Nobody went near it. It was the perfect place to hide me until I returned to myself."
"And then you met Sirius," said Tonks.
"And then I met Sirius," said Lupin. "And James. And they saved my life, in more ways than I could ever repay."
"And--and some time after that, you--you found the potion?"
"The potion found me," said Lupin. "Severus Snape discovered it. Ironic, isn't it? We hated each other in school but he's the one who's giving me the potion that makes me--almost normal. He gave it to me the year I was teaching."
"That's why you can't find a job, isn't it?" said Tonks. Her voice became hard. "Because you're a werewolf. People. Stupid--fucking stupid people won't hire you because--because--"
Her voice trailed off. Lupin flinched a bit at her language, her vehemence. He had long since given up on feeling angry at the bigotry, at the not- quite-polite refusals to offer him work. It took too much out of him to be angry. He could only manage quiet bitterness.
"It's not fair," said Tonks.
"Life isn't fair," said Lupin. They looked at each other and smiled sadly.
"Sounds like something my dad would say," said Tonks, smirking. "I'm sorry, Remus."
"Don't be sorry for me," Lupin said firmly. She was still holding his hand.
"I'm not," said Tonks. "I'm sorry I was selfish. I--I went after you thinking--god, what an idiot."
"What?"
"When I met you I thought, there's a bloke who needs some cheering up," said Tonks, blushing. "I thought, he's--well, he's kind of cute, too, isn't he?"
Lupin blushed. "I can't say anyone's ever thought of me as 'cute.'"
"Well, you are," said Tonks, in a mock-lofty way. "And you just seemed different to me. Interesting. And I thought, wouldn't it be great if we got along. If--if he liked me back. Maybe I could cheer him up. Then I found out about you and I thought, that's fine, no big deal. I still like him. I thought, I'll just make him--forget--for a minute. That's why--why I kissed you, see."
"Ah," said Lupin. He looked at her and grinned. "Is that the only reason."
She blushed to the roots of her platinum blonde hair. "No. Of course not. But, well, anyway. It was selfish of me. I should have realized that you might be--uncomfortable."
"It's okay," said Lupin. "I liked it. You kissing me. I just--don't think it's wise to take that further. My past history--doesn't bode well for romantic involvements."
"Past history?"
"A long story," said Lupin. "I think I've bored you enough with my long stories for one night."
"I want to know," said Tonks gently, but with a trace of the stubbornness he had come to like so much.
"Another time," he said softly. She nodded, and smiled at him again. They were still holding hands, but Lupin didn't let her go. It felt good. He felt good. Better than he had in a very long time. She understood. She accepted his choice. And they could be friends after all. It would be difficult, he thought, to push aside his other feelings for her, the feelings that wanted to take things further than the innocent kiss they'd shared earlier. But he could do it. Hadn't he always done? And she was tough. Tougher than she looked. They'd be friends, and be just fine.
"We're missing the party, you know," said Tonks, her tone light.
"Yes, I suddenly realize I'm starving," said Lupin. "And thirsty. I haven't talked that much since I was in school."
She laughed. "You should talk more. You have a nice voice."
"Of course, if you like scratchy voices," he said.
"It's pleasant," said Tonks. "You're pleasant."
"And cute," said Lupin. She laughed again. He liked her laugh. He liked making her laugh. He rarely made people laugh.
"Don't get too full of yourself," said Tonks.
"Never," said Lupin. "Shall we rejoin the party, then?"
"Sounds lovely," said Tonks. He offered his arm and she accepted it, giving him a warm, radiant smile. His heart fluttered just a bit, but he pushed that aside and they started back toward the house. She stumbled on a flagstone and he caught her.
"Thanks," she said, shaking her head.
"My pleasure," he said. They reached the back door. He opened it.
"Tonks?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," said Lupin. "For everything."
She smiled at him, placed a hand against his cheek. "My pleasure. What are friends for?"
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Author's Note. I am so NOT done yet. But this has been great fun to write so far. Thanks for all the reviews!
"Hand me that Spellotape, would you, Remus?"
Lupin blinked and looked up. Molly Weasley was balanced precariously on a step-stool, holding the edge of a huge banner against the wall. Lupin stood up and crossed to her, handing her the roll of tape. She tore off a piece and stuck it to the banner, then pressed it against the wall.
"There," she said proudly, climbing down from the step-stool to admire her handiwork. "That's festive, I think."
The banner read CONGRATULATIONS RON AND HERMIONE: SCHOOL PREFECTS.
The letters had come that morning, telling Harry, Ron, Hermione, the twins and Ginny of the school books they would need. Ron's and Hermione's letters also had prefects badges inside. Lupin had said nothing but could not help feeling mildly surprised by the fact that Ron, and not Harry, had been made a prefect. Dumbledore must have his reasons, Lupin thought.
Then again, Harry was thrilled to be returning to Hogwarts at all. He had won his disciplinary hearing, but Lupin and Sirius had been appalled to learn that he'd had to face the entire Wizengamot. For the whole court to be present for a simple disciplinary hearing of a student was unheard of, and spoke very clearly of Fudge's new animus against Harry. It was only Dumbledore's intervention--and the testimony of the Squib Arabella Figg that had turned things Harry's way.
Beyond this was the news that Lucius Malfoy had been at the Ministry, had met Fudge just after Harry's hearing.
"Throwing more gold at Fudge, no doubt," Sirius commented darkly.
But Lupin found he couldn't dwell on the events of the past few days for very long. His mind kept wandering, back to Tonks. Back to what had happened in his bedroom on the day of his last transformation.
His stomach roiled; he felt sick. He had not said a word to Tonks since then, not that he had tried very hard to do so. Tonks, for her part, had done her best to avoid him. The few times he'd actually seen her, she'd glanced at him and quickly looked away, quickly left the room, stumbling every time in her haste to flee his presence.
The worst part of it all was that he really had been looking forward to a friendship with Tonks. He liked her, a lot. She was smart, she was funny. She had a youthful energy and enthusiasm that was infectious. She took her work seriously, but not herself; she was, in a word, refreshing.
That's not the only reason you like her, said the voice in Lupin's head. He grimaced and looked down at the floor. You're attracted to her, admit it.
Yes, he was. He clenched his fists and looked down at the floor. It had been ages, years, since he'd felt any sort of attraction for a woman. It had been so long, he took for granted that he'd ever feel this way for anyone again. He certainly never dreamed he'd have these feelings for a girl, a woman fifteen years his junior, a girl with constantly changing hair colors and wild clothes. But there it was. Since meeting Tonks, very few moments had gone by in Lupin's mind without some thought of this young woman with her sparkling brown eyes and ready smile.
And then there were the dreams. Sexy, erotic dreams, dreams of her wet lips, her tongue, her flesh, her taste, dreams that caused him to sit up in bed, in a cold sweat, his groin throbbing, his mind reeling.
He shook his head and told himself to get busy, to assist Molly with the decorating for the party that would happen in a few hours. Keeping busy kept his mind from wandering, from dwelling on Tonks's porcelain skin, the tears that had stained her cheeks when he'd snapped at her and frightened her.
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The party was in full swing. Ron Weasley was in a particularly good mood, having received a brand new broom as a reward for his becoming prefect. Hermione Granger, was, as usual, focused on matters entirely outside being social; already she had drawn Lupin into a conversation about the unfair treatment of house elves, comparing the prejudice against them to the prejudice against all non-human creatures, including werewolves. Lupin couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. She was almost too clever, too passionate for her own good. He also couldn't help notice that Ron was stealing looks at her every chance he got.
Lupin excused himself to fetch some more punch, feeling as well as he could feel considering he was halfway through his cycle. The three weeks where he didn't have to take his potion were always precious to him. Not having to taste the horrible liquid as it burned his throat, leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.
He was halfway to the punch bowl when he spotted her.
Tonks was pouring herself some punch. She looked up, met his eyes, and promptly spilled half her punch down the front of her robes.
Lupin swallowed. She looked very lovely. Her hair was blonde and cut in a stylish sort of bob; she'd even changed her eye-color to blue.
She glanced to the right, to the left. Looking for an escape route, no doubt, thought Lupin sadly. But she didn't move. She seemed rooted to the spot.
"Hello," said Lupin, from across the punch bowl.
"H-hi," she said, blinking and looking away, then back at him.
"How are you?" Lupin asked, feeling his mouth go dry and his tongue get thick.
"Fine," she said shortly.
"How's the punch?" he asked, and immediately sent a swift mental kick to his own backside. "How's the punch?" Not, "Forgive me for scaring you that day" or "I'm so sorry I snapped at you, please don't be angry with me" or even "You look beautiful tonight" but "How's the punch?"
"It's good," she said. "I mean, I guess it is, I haven't tasted it yet. I'm wearing some of it, though. It smells good."
She was talking very fast, as she had when they first met; her voice sounded nervous. Lupin felt his stomach plummet. She was terrified of him; she looked like a cornered rabbit, her eyes huge, her whole body tense, ready for flight.
"Tonks," he said. "About--about that day. In my room--"
"Forget it," she said quickly, and now she seemed to find her legs. She moved away from the punch bowl and started walking away from him.
"Tonks, please," he said, feeling a little desperate. "I want to explain."
"You don't have to do that," said Tonks, moving to a corner of the room, still avoiding his gaze.
"I want to explain," he repeated, following her. She stopped and turned, trapped in the corner. Lupin stepped back, not wanting to crowd her, not wanting to scare her again.
She finally looked up at him. Her eyes were steely now. Determined.
"Fine," she said. "Explain."
Lupin nodded, but suddenly found it difficult to talk again. "I'd rather-- not go into it here."
"Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it here," Tonks said firmly, even as her voice shook slightly.
Lupin let out a breath. She wasn't going to make it easy for him. That was her right. But he couldn't possibly tell her in this room, with all these people. With Sirius possibly watching them. Or Alastor Moody, with his spinning, all-seeing magical eye.
"Please," he said, not really having to work all that hard at sounding pleading and desperate.
She looked into his eyes and for a moment, a long moment, said nothing. But then she nodded and put her punch cup on a nearby table.
"Lead the way, then," she said, her voice frosty.
He nodded to her and walked quickly to the kitchen door, not looking back. He heard her stumble and swear under her breath, but she caught herself and followed him out the door. Up the stairs.
"Out back," he said quickly, turning left and going down the dark hallway.
"Wait," she said, and she pulled her wand from her robes. "Lumos." Her wand- tip illuminated.
"Don't think I need to be stumbling round in the dark," she said briskly.
They made their way outside. The night air was sultry and Tonks extinguished her wand tip and pulled off her robes. Lupin immediately wished she hadn't.
She was wearing jeans again, jeans that hugged her in all the right places. Lupin blinked and tried to focus on the antics of a raccoon determinedly raiding a wastecan in the alleyway nearby. But his eyes strayed back to her, and her black t-shirt, that clung to her compact, muscular, curvy body. To the swell of her breasts. The sleeves were cut off, revealing pale, lean arms, the right of which was decorated with a tattoo. A scrolling, feminine tattoo that snaked around her bicep. Dear god, it was sexy. She was sexy. He wondered if she had other tattoos. Where they might be hidden.
Knock it off, you randy bastard! he thought furiously. Acting like a bloody teenager.
She tossed her robes onto a rusting garden chaise.
"So, explain yourself," she said firmly, folding her arms across her chest. Lupin blinked and forced his mind to clear of lustful thoughts of her.
"I'm ill," he said slowly.
"You've mentioned that," said Tonks dryly.
"You don't understand," said Lupin. "My illness is--permanent."
"You're a werewolf," she said, staring at him with her piercing eyes.
Lupin opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Then he spoke. "How--how did you know?"
"Hermione Granger told me," she said coolly.
Nosy brat, he thought, but he didn't say this.
"I probably would have figured it out on my own," said Tonks. "I had my suspicions, anyway."
"Right," said Lupin, at a loss for what to say. He felt as though the rug had been pulled from under him. He had wanted to be the one to control this conversation, to lead it, to tell her in his own words, to explain why he had lashed out at her, why he so desperately needed to take every drop of that potion in the week leading up to his transformation. But once again she had surprised him, had caught him off guard.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.
Lupin swallowed against his dry throat. He had forgotten to get himself any punch.
"I--I suppose," he said slowly, "I was--ashamed." He blushed and looked at the ground. Well, this admission wasn't untrue. He'd always been somewhat ashamed of what he had become, even if his fate was not his fault. Even if he told himself over and over again that there were plenty of others without his condition who were prejudiced against werewolves without him adding to the mix.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," said Tonks.
"I know," said Lupin dully. Suddenly he felt like a child, as though Tonks were some schoolteacher lecturing him. As though he was something young and silly and inexperienced.
"You should have told me," said Tonks. "I would have understood. I'm not some delicate thing, okay? I am an Auror. I think I can deal with learning a friend of mine is a werewolf."
"Forgive me," he said quickly, wanting desperately for her to understand. "I don't know why--I kept it from you. I--you're--" His voice trailed off. He couldn't look at her, but he felt her steady gaze on his burning face.
"What?" she pressed, her voice no longer hard.
"You're very lovely," he said in a low voice, wishing that his stupid face would stop burning. "You're very young and very lovely and I suppose--I didn't want to expose you to--to what I am. I'm very unlovely and I just thought--I didn't want you to see me--at my worst. I didn't want to put you through it." His voice trailed off again when he saw her looking at him, a hand on her hip, her eyebrows arched high so that they disappeared behind the thick blonde fringe.
"I'm now painfully aware that the reasoning behind my silence was entirely sexist and medieval," he said, laughing nervously.
Tonks gave a short laugh and rolled her eyes. "Just a bit."
"That's the problem with us old blokes," said Lupin, relieved to feel that the heat in his face was receding from his face, his neck, his ears. "We're not quite used to modern women. The sort who can look out for themselves."
"You're not old," said Tonks, and now color was rising in her cheeks, making her look younger and even prettier. "And you're not unlovely."
She smiled at him shyly. Lupin felt his heart begin to race. She had just complimented him, sort of. She hadn't told him he was young and handsome, but that he wasn't old and unlovely. It was not that big a deal. But his heart was pounding and his palms had begun to tingle. He blinked at tried to squelch these ridiculous feelings, these schoolboy feelings, but they persisted. He was reacting as though she'd told him she was madly in love with him and wanted to--what?
"Thanks," said Lupin awkwardly. "And thank you for understanding. About-- you know."
"That?" said Tonks, in a voice that sounded like she was striving to be casual but not quite succeeding. "No problem."
They said nothing for a moment, only looked at each other. She still looked rather shy, but her eyes were fixed in his, and she seemed to be moving a bit closer to him. He caught a whiff of something. Perfume? Tonks didn't seem the type to wear perfume. But he smelled it. Vanilla. Delicious.
"I--I like you, Remus," she said, her voice slightly breathy. Lupin felt his heart pounding. She couldn't possibly mean--no, that was ridiculous.
"I like you, too," he said, his voice feeling stuck in his throat.
"I mean," said Tonks. "I--I like you." She blinked at looked at him again, and her eyes were different. Yes, she did mean what Lupin thought she meant.
"Tonks," he said slowly. "I think--"
"I guess that's forward of me," she said, blushing again. "Probably more of that modern woman stuff you're not used to."
Lupin laughed nervously. Oh, if you only knew what I was really thinking, he thought, feeling a rush of blood to his--nether regions. No, he couldn't. He couldn't think about her that way.
All right, he could. But he would not go down that road with her. She could tell him she accepted him, his condition, that she wasn't afraid, that she understood, but there would always be that risk, the risk that the potion would stop working, that he would become a threat to her. No, he needed to keep his distance. However badly he wanted to reach for her, crush her against him, taste her bow-shaped mouth.
"It's very flattering," he said thickly. "But, you see, Tonks. It's, well, it wouldn't be--safe. I'd be dangerous for you."
"I like danger," she said.
Oh, dear god, thought Lupin. She was very close to him now.
"Tonks--"
"D'you like me?" she asked. Good lord, the girl--no, woman--was direct.
"I told you I did." Run, Remus, run, he thought. Don't let her get any closer to you.
"That's not what I meant," she said. So close now. Her body was inches from his. She was heady with the scent of vanilla. He was dizzy. Run.
"Nymphadora," he choked. "I--can't."
"Don't call me Nymphadora," murmured Tonks. She was against him now. Pressed against him. She had taken his hands in hers. He couldn't breathe.
"Tonks--"
But he couldn't talk anymore, because her lips brushed against his. Had he had breath to spare he might have gasped. The blood pounding in his ears rushed to his groin. The kiss was innocent, really. The lightest press of her lips against his. And yet it was so very erotic Lupin thought he might pass out. He pulled away.
"Tonks," he said, breathing heavily.
"What?" She looked surprised and hurt.
"We--can't," he said.
"You--don't want--"
"I do," said Lupin, his voice thick and choked with emotion. "I do. But-- it's too complicated. I--I don't--I haven't--my condition."
"I'm not afraid of that--"
"I know you're not," said Lupin, backing away from her, wishing his mouth would stop tingling. "It's not that. I'm the one who is afraid. For what-- could happen. To you."
"Remus, come on--"
"Tonks, please," Lupin begged. "This is not easy for me. I--I care about you. Very much. And it's because I care that I can't--do this. However badly I might want to. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. If I made something happen to you."
"But--Hermione told me you take a potion," said Tonks, looking still more hurt. "As long as you take your potion you're safe. That's why you--got angry with me that day. Because you needed your potion so badly."
"The potion keeps me from being dangerous," said Lupin. "That's true. But I don't know how long it will work for me. I've already had to increase the dosage once. And I can only increase the dosage a few more times before taking it becomes more dangerous than my affliction itself. In a few years Wolfsbane Draught might be no good to me at all anymore. I'll go back to the way I was. I'd--hurt you. Hurt myself. Please, don't--don't make this more difficult than it is."
Tonks opened her mouth to protest, but then seemed to think better of it, and nodded. She looked hurt, but she forced a mile.
"I understand," she said. "I'm sorry." A pause. "Friends, then."
"Friends," he said. She held out her right hand, and he shook it, trying to ignore the tingles racing up his arm, the tingling still happening on his mouth.
They stood in silence for a moment; the raccoon in the alleyway managed to dislodge the lid of the wastecan and was rummaging round inside for scraps.
"Does it hurt?" Tonks asked. "Being a werewolf, I mean."
"It did," said Lupin. "The potion helps with the pain. The potion eases the pain of transforming, and it keeps me calm. With it I just turn into a wolf like any other. I don't feel the need to attack."
"And without it?" She was watching him intently. He forced himself to look at her.
"Without it, I become a monster," he said, his voice shaking just a bit. "A man and a wolf at the same time but--but with this--this bloodlust. I have no control. I want only to rip and tear everything apart. Others. Myself. There's no desire in me but to--to taste blood."
Tonks nodded, but her eyes had a thin film of tears on them.
"I don't want your pity," Lupin said roughly.
"I'm not offering any pity," said Tonks. "I just--when did it happen?"
Lupin swallowed. "I was ten years old," he said softly. "I'll never forget that day. A full moon. The most beautiful full moon I think I've ever seen. A harvest moon. I lived in the country with my parents. They were--well-to- do sorts. They liked to throw big parties, invite half the village. That night, they threw a big party, outside. We lived on an estate near some woods. I was bored at the party; there were no other children there to play with. So I wandered off. Into the woods."
He paused, and swallowed again. He hadn't told this story to anyone in years. Not in its entirety, anyway.
"My parents didn't notice at first," said Lupin. "I was always running off into the woods. I loved the woods. There were no other children nearby, no other families with children. I had no friends, really. Just the woods. The trees and the bugs and this pathetic little stream that to me was like a giant river. The moon was so bright that night it was almost like day. I remember. And it was autumn, and the leaves had fallen, so the moonlight penetrated everything. I ran off, into the woods, like I'd done hundreds of times."
He paused again, feeling a lump in his throat, feeling his body tense as the memories came rushing back to him. He'd been leaping across boulders in the stream. Skipping stones. Smiling up at the moon.
"It happened very fast. One moment I was leaping onto the bank of that stream and the next--this monster came out of nowhere. I didn't run. I just stared at it. I couldn't fathom that it might be dangerous. It just looked pathetic. Its eyes--they weren't cruel. They were haunted. Afraid. Desperate. At least that's what I thought. I think I even tried to talk to it.
"I'd heard of werewolves, of course. You don't grow up in a magical family without hearing of them, and all the other dangerous magical creatures in existence. But when I saw one I--I remember being fascinated, not scared. For a moment there, when I looked at this thing in front of me, it was as if--as if we understood each other. I thought, 'so I'm looking at a werewolf. Interesting. It's not so bad.' And then it attacked."
Lupin turned away from her, not wanting her to see his eyes, which were burning.
"It didn't hurt that much," he said. "Odd, really. The wolf ripped into my flesh and it bled like the devil but it didn't hurt. I screamed, of course, but not because it hurt. Not even because I was frightened. I screamed because I was surprised. Because I felt--betrayed. Just like a child. 'I never did anything to you. Why are you attacking me? Why'd you bite me?'
" I wasn't that far from the house. That's probably what saved my life, looking back, that I didn't wander off too far, that the stream behind the house was close. And the fact that the damn moonlight was so bright. The werewolf let go of me and ran off. I don't know why it did. I saw my blood dripping on its teeth."
Lupin blinked and looked down, but he did not look at Tonks. He felt, rather than saw her next to him. She was silent.
"I managed to stand up. I was bleeding from this gash in my side. I thought my guts would fall out of me, but I was walking back toward the house. I didn't cry. My mother saw me and became hysterical. She and my father carried me back to the house and we went straight to St. Mungo's, where I was very ably patched up by the healers and given a Blood Replenishing potion. The healer treating me told my parents I was lucky to be alive. Lucky. I didn't feel so lucky when the next full moon came round."
Tonks was next to him, and she'd taken his hand. This time he didn't pull away.
"What--what happened to you?" she asked. "After--"
"My parents didn't know what to do," Lupin went on. "No cure, no way to control me. I was ten years old and I had the strength of a giant and this blind rage, this drive to hurt things. To make things bleed. The only thing they could do was lock me in the basement and put wards round it to prevent me from escaping. But that--that only made me angry. I lashed out--at myself."
"How--how is it you went to Hogwarts?" Tonks asked.
"Dumbledore," said Lupin. "He's the most fearlessly compassionate man I know. Perhaps to a fault. He wrote to my parents and told me that under no circumstances were they to prevent me from attending the school. He insisted that having me there, learning magic, might help me learn how to control myself when I transformed."
"But--but you didn't learn," said Tonks. It was not a question.
"No, I didn't," said Lupin. "Dumbledore realized even before I came to school that he had a lot more on his hands than some eleven year old kid with a bad temper. They put up the Whomping Willow and every month I would be taken to Hogsmeade, to the Shrieking Shack. Everyone thought it was haunted, all the screams and ripping that was coming from it. Nobody went near it. It was the perfect place to hide me until I returned to myself."
"And then you met Sirius," said Tonks.
"And then I met Sirius," said Lupin. "And James. And they saved my life, in more ways than I could ever repay."
"And--and some time after that, you--you found the potion?"
"The potion found me," said Lupin. "Severus Snape discovered it. Ironic, isn't it? We hated each other in school but he's the one who's giving me the potion that makes me--almost normal. He gave it to me the year I was teaching."
"That's why you can't find a job, isn't it?" said Tonks. Her voice became hard. "Because you're a werewolf. People. Stupid--fucking stupid people won't hire you because--because--"
Her voice trailed off. Lupin flinched a bit at her language, her vehemence. He had long since given up on feeling angry at the bigotry, at the not- quite-polite refusals to offer him work. It took too much out of him to be angry. He could only manage quiet bitterness.
"It's not fair," said Tonks.
"Life isn't fair," said Lupin. They looked at each other and smiled sadly.
"Sounds like something my dad would say," said Tonks, smirking. "I'm sorry, Remus."
"Don't be sorry for me," Lupin said firmly. She was still holding his hand.
"I'm not," said Tonks. "I'm sorry I was selfish. I--I went after you thinking--god, what an idiot."
"What?"
"When I met you I thought, there's a bloke who needs some cheering up," said Tonks, blushing. "I thought, he's--well, he's kind of cute, too, isn't he?"
Lupin blushed. "I can't say anyone's ever thought of me as 'cute.'"
"Well, you are," said Tonks, in a mock-lofty way. "And you just seemed different to me. Interesting. And I thought, wouldn't it be great if we got along. If--if he liked me back. Maybe I could cheer him up. Then I found out about you and I thought, that's fine, no big deal. I still like him. I thought, I'll just make him--forget--for a minute. That's why--why I kissed you, see."
"Ah," said Lupin. He looked at her and grinned. "Is that the only reason."
She blushed to the roots of her platinum blonde hair. "No. Of course not. But, well, anyway. It was selfish of me. I should have realized that you might be--uncomfortable."
"It's okay," said Lupin. "I liked it. You kissing me. I just--don't think it's wise to take that further. My past history--doesn't bode well for romantic involvements."
"Past history?"
"A long story," said Lupin. "I think I've bored you enough with my long stories for one night."
"I want to know," said Tonks gently, but with a trace of the stubbornness he had come to like so much.
"Another time," he said softly. She nodded, and smiled at him again. They were still holding hands, but Lupin didn't let her go. It felt good. He felt good. Better than he had in a very long time. She understood. She accepted his choice. And they could be friends after all. It would be difficult, he thought, to push aside his other feelings for her, the feelings that wanted to take things further than the innocent kiss they'd shared earlier. But he could do it. Hadn't he always done? And she was tough. Tougher than she looked. They'd be friends, and be just fine.
"We're missing the party, you know," said Tonks, her tone light.
"Yes, I suddenly realize I'm starving," said Lupin. "And thirsty. I haven't talked that much since I was in school."
She laughed. "You should talk more. You have a nice voice."
"Of course, if you like scratchy voices," he said.
"It's pleasant," said Tonks. "You're pleasant."
"And cute," said Lupin. She laughed again. He liked her laugh. He liked making her laugh. He rarely made people laugh.
"Don't get too full of yourself," said Tonks.
"Never," said Lupin. "Shall we rejoin the party, then?"
"Sounds lovely," said Tonks. He offered his arm and she accepted it, giving him a warm, radiant smile. His heart fluttered just a bit, but he pushed that aside and they started back toward the house. She stumbled on a flagstone and he caught her.
"Thanks," she said, shaking her head.
"My pleasure," he said. They reached the back door. He opened it.
"Tonks?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," said Lupin. "For everything."
She smiled at him, placed a hand against his cheek. "My pleasure. What are friends for?"
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Author's Note. I am so NOT done yet. But this has been great fun to write so far. Thanks for all the reviews!