Chapter 4: Recovery
First things first, Tonks thought to herself, get Remus somewhere he'll be comfortable. The kitchen floor is nowhere for a sick werewolf to begin to heal...
Pointing her wand at him and uttering, "Mobilicorpus," she noticed for the first time that he was quite undressed. Without giving herself time to fully appreciate his lean, muscular, if somewhat gaunt form, she led him upstairs with her wand, determined to find something suitable for him to wear before seeing him nestled in his bed under a mountain of warm blankets.
She had left his dresser drawer open in her rush to find the vial of Draught of Living Death; looking inside it, she saw that it contained nothing but his werewolf paraphernalia. Tempting, but... she would have a look at that later, when she had his permission. Now, she had more pressing matters, like... aha! his underwear drawer. Hmmm... Hers was a bit more colorful, she couldn't help but reflect. Picking up a pair of white boxers from a pile of its clones, she gingerly approached the bed where he lay, looking noble and quite exquisite... and COLD! She reminded herself. Now, how to go about this...
She decided the best way to do this was to kneel at his feet and ease them on, and she managed with little difficulty, pausing just before sliding them up over his waist and regretting that she would have to cover THAT up... He seemed to her to be formed so perfectly in every way, and she wondered briefly if it had been him or some kind of weird mental state brought about by his extreme pain that had made that suggestion about the new moon... Shaking her head, she resolved to think about that some other time.
Next she stepped over to his wardrobe, peering inside and looking for something warm. Hanging inside, she saw, were a single pair of trousers, a couple of jumpers that looked like the ones Molly made, and a very old, musty-smelling set of dress robes in a sort of charcoal gray color. It filled Tonks with a fresh surge of hatred for that Umbridge woman, with her anti-werewolf legislation and Remus's lack of paid work. She knew of several departments in the Ministry who could really benefit from his extensive knowledge and insight...
Choosing one of the Weasley jumpers, a lovely, lush-looking chocolate brown one, and the heavily darned and patched trousers, she once again began her battle with Remus's unconscious body and attempted to dress him. Then, satisfied with the job she had done, she went about the house to see what else needed to be done at present.
He never did tell me where the extra blankets are, she mused. Peeking into several likely looking rooms, she finally found the linen closet, which contained a stack of wool coverlets and fluffy cotton comforters. She pulled them all out, toting them to Remus's room, where he hay, as was to be expected, in exactly the same position as he had been in when she had left. She began to shake out the blankets and throw them over him, finally tucking him in when she figured he could survive at the North Pole with this much cover. Then she went downstairs to get some breakfast and pick up his torn garments from the night before, planning to try to sew them up. And so went her morning. There were no visitors, as everyone seemed to be very busy getting ready to bring Harry and Company to the house in a few days, and so when Tonks finished her rather abysmal sewing of Remus's already shabby garments, she had quite a bit of leisure time.
"You know what, love? I think I'll head off to Diagon Alley," she told him, although he couldn't hear. He didn't stir. "Don't move a muscle, now," she teased. He obliged her, and didn't.
*****
Somehow, she found herself in the middle of a terrible session of haggling with Madam Malkin, who wanted her to provide, not just perfectly accurate measurements, but the actual person for whom the robes were being fitted before she would allow Tonks to make an order.
"But why won't you just let me return them if they don't fit? They're bound to; he's a stick insect, he can wriggle into anything, and if they're too big, he can tailor them himself!"
"Now, dear, if I just let all my customers tailor their robes themselves, how would I make any profit?"
Groaning, Tonks relented. "Look, I don't have all day. How about I give you the measurements plus an extra, say, ten sickles, you fix up the robes like a good shopkeeper, and I get back home before next year?"
"Oh, all right, you don't have to be so touchy. Make it an extra galleon and it's a deal."
"Why, you..." Tonks growled gutterally, almost inaudibly. "Fine," she agreed icily. Within ten minutes, she had purchased Remus a new set of dress robes in navy blue, plus a set of work robes in what seemed to be his favorite color, brown, and huffily stormed out of the shop, her belt pouch considerably lighter.
Feeling a bit hungry, she looked around, squinting in the bright early afternoon sunlight, and finally found a deli across the street, which she made for, grabbing a bite for lunch. She was about to leave for Grimmauld Place when the sign of a shop at the end of the street caught her eye. Smiling to herself at the memory of what Remus had said to her earlier this morning, she made her way towards it, deciding to stock up, just in case.
Rifling through a rack of thoroughly disgusting lacy night-things, rolling her eyes at the ability of the average woman to pretend she was comfortable in such frivolity, she heard another customer enter as the bell above the door rang. This certainly will not do, Tonks thought, holding out a see-through gown between thumb and forefinger, wrinkig her nose, and letting it fall back in queue.
Finally finding something that pleased her, a simple black silk tank top and panties that matched, looking as though they would reveal just enough of her sexuality as to make Remus forgive her for not being girly enough, and a couple of simple cotton gowns in navy and deep purple, she headed for the cash register, only to see someone quite unexpected standing in her path.
"Molly! What- um, what are you doing in here?"
"Oh, hello, Tonks! Had to get the children's school things today, and I thought I'd stop in here on the way back to the Burrow," she answered absentmindedly. She was partially hidden behind the display she was admiring, of rather revealing teddies. Suddenly, she grabbed a couple of them in different colors and made for the dressing room. "Come chat?" she invited, and Tonks was too stunned to do anything but comply.
Sitting on the bench outside the stall Molly had chosen, she listened to what Molly was saying: "Hmmm, I think I like the green best, but Arthur's favorite color was always red... And it's his birthday... So, Tonks, what brings you in here?"
"I- er, I just wanted some new things, you know..."
"In case Remus should change his mind, you mean."
"Change his mind?" she replied, wondering what Molly meant.
"About the whole sex thing. He probably thinks he's too old for anything like that, I suppose. Is that why you two haven't done anything yet? Oh, how is he, by the way? I know his transformation must have been aweful."
"Oh- ah... he's fine... I gave him some potion; he should be sleeping it off right now. And, well, actually, we were planning to... oh, Merlin, Molly, this is so strange. Talking about all this with you, I mean." Even though Mrs. Weasley couldn't see her, Tonks knew that she must be able to hear her face burning redder and redder.
Suddenly Molly, once again clad in her very homey green floral dress and brown pinafore, appeared outside the door of her stall.
"Tonks, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm practically an expert on the subject." Her hands were on her hips, and she was wearing her familiar reprimanding expression, making it seem even less likely that this woman was approachable about a topic as innocent as love potions, much less outright sex. Lowering her head, she found that Molly wasn't through talking. "Look, dear, I may be a bit older than you, but if you ever feel like you need someone to talk you about this, I'm just a fireplace away. The only girl I've got is Ginny, and she's taken after Fred and George so... It would be nice to have someone to share secrets with. I know all the tricks- Desire Draught, contraceptive charms, Time-Telling Tonic..."
Tonks nearly choked on her tongue. "Contraceptive charms?"
Molly shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, hanging the green garment back on the display rack and folding the red one over her arm. "Arthur and I wanted a big family." After paying for their purchases, the two women walked out of the store together, Molly still rambling on. "Remus doesn't strike me as the type of man who would be very quick to ease up at first, you know. You may need to do something to give him a bit of confidence. A cheering charm works well when your partner is stressed, I find. Going back to Grimmauld Place?" Tonks nodded. "Do you need me to come and help you with supper this week?"
"Oh, er- no thanks. I think I'll be okay." Tonks wanted to get out of this severely embarassing situation as soon as possible; she made sure no one was watching her as she entered one of the fires along the corner of Knockturn and Diagon, Flooing back to Grimmauld Place.
*****
Remus awoke to an extremely unfamiliar sensation. He was feeling ill, more exausted than at any other time of the month, and very, very hungry. This was to be expected. But for the first time, instead of being left on a sofa and covered with a light afghan, waking up in the middle of a forest or, as had been the ritual every month from the ages of six to eleven, on the cold, stone floor of a dungeon cell in an ancient manor house in northern Scotland, he found himself nestled snug and warm beneath a pile of covers, fully dressed in clean, untorn clothes, and calmed and comforted by the sound of breathing coming from somewhere above him.
"Tonks?" he whispered, slowly turning over and looking into her eyes, which were a very bright golden brown today, wondering briefly whether she just liked his own eyes that much or if she would rather have been his sister than his would-be lover.
"Wotcher, Jack Nicholson?" she asked, giving him a small grin.
"Oh, now I do hope I look better than him!" he snorted.
"Infinitely," she replied lightly, kissing him on the nose as she pointed to the bedside table. "I brought breakfast," she smiled.
"Is it edible?" he asked groggily.
"Oh, shut up, Fuzzy. For once I actually got it right. Now, sit up."
"Ah..." he attempted to follow orders, but couldn't for all he was worth. "I may require a bit of assistance..."
"Hmph... should have known..." She reached a surprisingly strong arm behind his back and heaved, finally propping him up with several fluffy pillows. "Better?" She managed to lift the tray that held scrambled eggs (only slightly runny), toast (actually just barely not burned), milk (with only a few lines where it had run over the top of the glass), bacon (hey, it was food!), and a bar of Honeydukes chocolate (thankfully unopened and therefore unharmed) and placed it on his lap without tipping anything over. He sighed gratefully and (pardon the pun) wolfed it all down, stopping only when he had finished the last delectable square of chocolate.
"You're a goddess." He captured her hand, which was reaching out to take his empty tray, and gave it a tender kiss. "Oh, and by the way, are you going to make sarcastic references to my lycanthropy every time I say something that displeases you?" He smiled winningly.
"Who, me? Why would I ever do a thing like that?" Her grin matched his.
Under the pretense of clearing her throat, she mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Furball."
A few minutes after taking the tray back downstairs she reappeared in his doorwar carrying a bouquet of yellow roses, today's Daily Prophet, and a feather duster.
"You'll be happy to know that Umbridge has been forced to resign," she said bouncily without preamble, thrusting the paper under his nose as she hopped over to his dresser and lightly ran the duster over the counter.
"E-excuse me?" he stammered, the paper falling from his fingers onto the bed.
"Read it, Remus. And happy birthday, Christmas, Boxing Day, new year, Easter, summer holiday, Bonfire Night, Halloween, et cetera, et cetera, all rolled into one." Her voice lilting as she spoke, she skipped around the dresser, arranging the bouquet in several different positions until it finally pleased her, at which point she jumped on her stomach onto the bed next to Remus (who was reading avidly), her head supported in her hands and her feet swinging madly behind her.
'Minister of Magic Loses Once-Trusted Colleague
'Ministry officials report that due to the unfortunate accident regarding a herd of Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest on the outskirts of Hogwarts Castle, Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and former Hogwarts High Inquisitor, Headmistress, and Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, is now realized to be unstable and therefore unfit to continue in her position.
'"I've noticed some slight changes in her behavior," says the Minister himself, Cornelius Fudge. "She has become more irritable, more prone to verbal onslaughts, and generally a less competent and trustworthy colleague. In accordance with an action taken by members of my private council, it is my duty now to relieve her of her duties.
'When asked if he had anyone in mind to fill the now-empty position of Senior Undersecretary, he did not realily comment, except to say, "I've given it a little thought, yes."
'Madam Umbridge, on the other hand, had much to say on the subject of her firing when questioned by reporters, her most often-repeated sentence being, "This is an outrage!"
'Umbridge plans to bring her case before the court, hoping to convince Madam Amelia Bones, Chief Justice of the Wizengamot, that she was fired without just cause. When Madam Bones was inquired as to her opinion on the subject, she was quoted as saying, "I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her, and I never have."
'The Daily Prophet will keep you up-to-date on this situation as we receive more information.'
"Dear God." Remus looked a bit faint as he let the paper drop to his side once again. Tonks knelt over him and grabbed his face in her hands, thrusting her tongue into his mouth with enthusiasm. He didn't protest.
Pulling away from him with a big grin, she said, "I think this calls for a celebration. Who's up for a dance?" She began to do the Twist all around the bed, to the sound of Remus's laughter, and then she attempted the Electric Slide but tripped over her own feet and landed on the floor beside him. Giggling, she pulled herself up and met his eyes.
"So why are you so happy about this? She never did anything against you, Tonks."
"No, but there's nothing that makes me happier than a horrible person getting what's coming to them. And besides, whoever Fudge decides to hire next may not be such an intolerant prick..." Her voice dropped as she growled that last bit. "So, you know what that means?" she resumed cheerfully.
"I don't want to get my hopes up," Remus stated flatly, looking a bit deflated. "After all, Fudge isn't exactly the most unbiased person in the world, himself. Whomever he hires is bound to be almost as bad as Umbridge."
"Ah, yes, but you're forgetting something." He raised an eyebrow. "Now that You-Know-Who's returned, people are more apt to listen to Dumbledore than to Fudge, now they know he was right all along and all. So if Dumbledore gives Fudge advice, he's more likely than not to take it."
"True. But whom do we know who works-... Arthur." His eyes closed, hardly daring to hope that his answer would be Fudge's answer as well. Because he remembered what the older man had told him as soon as he had learned of Umbridge's Werewolf Employment Restriction Act being passed: "If I ever got a hold of some of the power that woman weilds, that law would be the first thing to be amended." He tried to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that was spreading from his head to his toes.
"Which means," Tonks continued, "that you'll be needing these soon, if we get our way. I'm glad I bought them when I did." She opened a white cardboard box at the foot of his bed, and pulled out something deep blue. In a minute she was holding up a navy wool robe, a pair of matching trousers, and a black vest. "Oh, and... I almost forgot..." She then opened another box under the first and produced a set similar to the first; only it was made in less formal, more durable material of dark brown. "I bought them hoping to give you a bit more diversity, but now that I know you'll be returning to work soon, it's even better."
A lump had formed in Lupin's throat. He gazed up at her. "Take it back, Tonks," he whispered, feeling a tear about to slip down his face.
"Nonsense, love. It's the least I can do."
"No, it's... you can't afford this, and I don't need... please. It's too much." He gingerly touched the fine wool coat, and then drew back his hand quickly.
"Remus, I'm not exactly a pauper. I can afford it, and I wanted to do something for you. I thought your chances of being effective might improve if you looked a little more... well to do. And I, for one, have been wondering to myself what wonders a good wardrobe revamping might do for your spirits. Now, mind you, these are not to be worn on the night of the full moon," she added, indicating his badly repaired robes folded inconspicuously atop his dresser.
"Oh, erm... sorry. I usually... well, I usually find it easier if I undress before the transformation, but you wouldn't leave the room, so..."
"Well, next month you won't have to worry about modesty, will you?" she asked, more to herself than to him. He caught it, however, and looked up at her sharply.
"What do you mean?"
She sighed. "I'm holding you to your word, Remus."
"My word?" Then the realization hit him. "New moon," he whispered.
"Look, I've been thinking, and I know you were very tired that morning, and probably didn't know what you were saying, and that night we kissed... well, I don't know what was going through your mind. But I'll tell you right now- when I said I loved you, I meant it. And I was hoping you meant it too, because I've been in love with you since before I met you, and even if you don't love me I still want to make love to you. I feel like you deserve it. And I feel like I deserve it."
That night began flooding back to him, and the morning after, and his thoughts became clearer. "I did mean it." He took her hand in his, looking at her seriously. "I meant that I love you, and meant that I want to show you exactly how much." 'If that's possible,' he thought to himself. "But you... I didn't really think about you when I was saying it- I mean, I did, but I didn't intend to make you promise me something... like that. So I won't hold you to your word, if you're just doing this for my benefit."
"Remus, I would have done it that first night, if you hadn't been so guarded. And I'd do it right now, if you weren't so weak. I'm not letting you back out on me now."
"Oh, darling," he whispered, overcome with emotion as he feebly tugged at her arm and pulled her closer to him, his love pouring out into her in their kiss.
A cry from downstairs caused them to break apart. "Nymphadora! Remus!" came Molly's screech.
"I'll go down and see what she wants, then." Tonks drifted out the door dreamily.
The two women entered his bedroom together a few minutes later, Tonks still looking vaguely happy, Molly in tears. The older woman raced to the bed and embraced a shocked Remus, sobbing into his shoulder. He patted her back, unsure of what was going on.
"It's Arthur..." she managed.
"Oh, Lord-" he began to panic. "What's happened; is he all right?"
"He- he-" she hiccuped. "He's the Undersecretary to the Minister," she finally blurted, bawling even harder as he sat there stunned, not even responding when Tonks kissed him yet again, hard on the mouth.
First things first, Tonks thought to herself, get Remus somewhere he'll be comfortable. The kitchen floor is nowhere for a sick werewolf to begin to heal...
Pointing her wand at him and uttering, "Mobilicorpus," she noticed for the first time that he was quite undressed. Without giving herself time to fully appreciate his lean, muscular, if somewhat gaunt form, she led him upstairs with her wand, determined to find something suitable for him to wear before seeing him nestled in his bed under a mountain of warm blankets.
She had left his dresser drawer open in her rush to find the vial of Draught of Living Death; looking inside it, she saw that it contained nothing but his werewolf paraphernalia. Tempting, but... she would have a look at that later, when she had his permission. Now, she had more pressing matters, like... aha! his underwear drawer. Hmmm... Hers was a bit more colorful, she couldn't help but reflect. Picking up a pair of white boxers from a pile of its clones, she gingerly approached the bed where he lay, looking noble and quite exquisite... and COLD! She reminded herself. Now, how to go about this...
She decided the best way to do this was to kneel at his feet and ease them on, and she managed with little difficulty, pausing just before sliding them up over his waist and regretting that she would have to cover THAT up... He seemed to her to be formed so perfectly in every way, and she wondered briefly if it had been him or some kind of weird mental state brought about by his extreme pain that had made that suggestion about the new moon... Shaking her head, she resolved to think about that some other time.
Next she stepped over to his wardrobe, peering inside and looking for something warm. Hanging inside, she saw, were a single pair of trousers, a couple of jumpers that looked like the ones Molly made, and a very old, musty-smelling set of dress robes in a sort of charcoal gray color. It filled Tonks with a fresh surge of hatred for that Umbridge woman, with her anti-werewolf legislation and Remus's lack of paid work. She knew of several departments in the Ministry who could really benefit from his extensive knowledge and insight...
Choosing one of the Weasley jumpers, a lovely, lush-looking chocolate brown one, and the heavily darned and patched trousers, she once again began her battle with Remus's unconscious body and attempted to dress him. Then, satisfied with the job she had done, she went about the house to see what else needed to be done at present.
He never did tell me where the extra blankets are, she mused. Peeking into several likely looking rooms, she finally found the linen closet, which contained a stack of wool coverlets and fluffy cotton comforters. She pulled them all out, toting them to Remus's room, where he hay, as was to be expected, in exactly the same position as he had been in when she had left. She began to shake out the blankets and throw them over him, finally tucking him in when she figured he could survive at the North Pole with this much cover. Then she went downstairs to get some breakfast and pick up his torn garments from the night before, planning to try to sew them up. And so went her morning. There were no visitors, as everyone seemed to be very busy getting ready to bring Harry and Company to the house in a few days, and so when Tonks finished her rather abysmal sewing of Remus's already shabby garments, she had quite a bit of leisure time.
"You know what, love? I think I'll head off to Diagon Alley," she told him, although he couldn't hear. He didn't stir. "Don't move a muscle, now," she teased. He obliged her, and didn't.
*****
Somehow, she found herself in the middle of a terrible session of haggling with Madam Malkin, who wanted her to provide, not just perfectly accurate measurements, but the actual person for whom the robes were being fitted before she would allow Tonks to make an order.
"But why won't you just let me return them if they don't fit? They're bound to; he's a stick insect, he can wriggle into anything, and if they're too big, he can tailor them himself!"
"Now, dear, if I just let all my customers tailor their robes themselves, how would I make any profit?"
Groaning, Tonks relented. "Look, I don't have all day. How about I give you the measurements plus an extra, say, ten sickles, you fix up the robes like a good shopkeeper, and I get back home before next year?"
"Oh, all right, you don't have to be so touchy. Make it an extra galleon and it's a deal."
"Why, you..." Tonks growled gutterally, almost inaudibly. "Fine," she agreed icily. Within ten minutes, she had purchased Remus a new set of dress robes in navy blue, plus a set of work robes in what seemed to be his favorite color, brown, and huffily stormed out of the shop, her belt pouch considerably lighter.
Feeling a bit hungry, she looked around, squinting in the bright early afternoon sunlight, and finally found a deli across the street, which she made for, grabbing a bite for lunch. She was about to leave for Grimmauld Place when the sign of a shop at the end of the street caught her eye. Smiling to herself at the memory of what Remus had said to her earlier this morning, she made her way towards it, deciding to stock up, just in case.
Rifling through a rack of thoroughly disgusting lacy night-things, rolling her eyes at the ability of the average woman to pretend she was comfortable in such frivolity, she heard another customer enter as the bell above the door rang. This certainly will not do, Tonks thought, holding out a see-through gown between thumb and forefinger, wrinkig her nose, and letting it fall back in queue.
Finally finding something that pleased her, a simple black silk tank top and panties that matched, looking as though they would reveal just enough of her sexuality as to make Remus forgive her for not being girly enough, and a couple of simple cotton gowns in navy and deep purple, she headed for the cash register, only to see someone quite unexpected standing in her path.
"Molly! What- um, what are you doing in here?"
"Oh, hello, Tonks! Had to get the children's school things today, and I thought I'd stop in here on the way back to the Burrow," she answered absentmindedly. She was partially hidden behind the display she was admiring, of rather revealing teddies. Suddenly, she grabbed a couple of them in different colors and made for the dressing room. "Come chat?" she invited, and Tonks was too stunned to do anything but comply.
Sitting on the bench outside the stall Molly had chosen, she listened to what Molly was saying: "Hmmm, I think I like the green best, but Arthur's favorite color was always red... And it's his birthday... So, Tonks, what brings you in here?"
"I- er, I just wanted some new things, you know..."
"In case Remus should change his mind, you mean."
"Change his mind?" she replied, wondering what Molly meant.
"About the whole sex thing. He probably thinks he's too old for anything like that, I suppose. Is that why you two haven't done anything yet? Oh, how is he, by the way? I know his transformation must have been aweful."
"Oh- ah... he's fine... I gave him some potion; he should be sleeping it off right now. And, well, actually, we were planning to... oh, Merlin, Molly, this is so strange. Talking about all this with you, I mean." Even though Mrs. Weasley couldn't see her, Tonks knew that she must be able to hear her face burning redder and redder.
Suddenly Molly, once again clad in her very homey green floral dress and brown pinafore, appeared outside the door of her stall.
"Tonks, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm practically an expert on the subject." Her hands were on her hips, and she was wearing her familiar reprimanding expression, making it seem even less likely that this woman was approachable about a topic as innocent as love potions, much less outright sex. Lowering her head, she found that Molly wasn't through talking. "Look, dear, I may be a bit older than you, but if you ever feel like you need someone to talk you about this, I'm just a fireplace away. The only girl I've got is Ginny, and she's taken after Fred and George so... It would be nice to have someone to share secrets with. I know all the tricks- Desire Draught, contraceptive charms, Time-Telling Tonic..."
Tonks nearly choked on her tongue. "Contraceptive charms?"
Molly shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, hanging the green garment back on the display rack and folding the red one over her arm. "Arthur and I wanted a big family." After paying for their purchases, the two women walked out of the store together, Molly still rambling on. "Remus doesn't strike me as the type of man who would be very quick to ease up at first, you know. You may need to do something to give him a bit of confidence. A cheering charm works well when your partner is stressed, I find. Going back to Grimmauld Place?" Tonks nodded. "Do you need me to come and help you with supper this week?"
"Oh, er- no thanks. I think I'll be okay." Tonks wanted to get out of this severely embarassing situation as soon as possible; she made sure no one was watching her as she entered one of the fires along the corner of Knockturn and Diagon, Flooing back to Grimmauld Place.
*****
Remus awoke to an extremely unfamiliar sensation. He was feeling ill, more exausted than at any other time of the month, and very, very hungry. This was to be expected. But for the first time, instead of being left on a sofa and covered with a light afghan, waking up in the middle of a forest or, as had been the ritual every month from the ages of six to eleven, on the cold, stone floor of a dungeon cell in an ancient manor house in northern Scotland, he found himself nestled snug and warm beneath a pile of covers, fully dressed in clean, untorn clothes, and calmed and comforted by the sound of breathing coming from somewhere above him.
"Tonks?" he whispered, slowly turning over and looking into her eyes, which were a very bright golden brown today, wondering briefly whether she just liked his own eyes that much or if she would rather have been his sister than his would-be lover.
"Wotcher, Jack Nicholson?" she asked, giving him a small grin.
"Oh, now I do hope I look better than him!" he snorted.
"Infinitely," she replied lightly, kissing him on the nose as she pointed to the bedside table. "I brought breakfast," she smiled.
"Is it edible?" he asked groggily.
"Oh, shut up, Fuzzy. For once I actually got it right. Now, sit up."
"Ah..." he attempted to follow orders, but couldn't for all he was worth. "I may require a bit of assistance..."
"Hmph... should have known..." She reached a surprisingly strong arm behind his back and heaved, finally propping him up with several fluffy pillows. "Better?" She managed to lift the tray that held scrambled eggs (only slightly runny), toast (actually just barely not burned), milk (with only a few lines where it had run over the top of the glass), bacon (hey, it was food!), and a bar of Honeydukes chocolate (thankfully unopened and therefore unharmed) and placed it on his lap without tipping anything over. He sighed gratefully and (pardon the pun) wolfed it all down, stopping only when he had finished the last delectable square of chocolate.
"You're a goddess." He captured her hand, which was reaching out to take his empty tray, and gave it a tender kiss. "Oh, and by the way, are you going to make sarcastic references to my lycanthropy every time I say something that displeases you?" He smiled winningly.
"Who, me? Why would I ever do a thing like that?" Her grin matched his.
Under the pretense of clearing her throat, she mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Furball."
A few minutes after taking the tray back downstairs she reappeared in his doorwar carrying a bouquet of yellow roses, today's Daily Prophet, and a feather duster.
"You'll be happy to know that Umbridge has been forced to resign," she said bouncily without preamble, thrusting the paper under his nose as she hopped over to his dresser and lightly ran the duster over the counter.
"E-excuse me?" he stammered, the paper falling from his fingers onto the bed.
"Read it, Remus. And happy birthday, Christmas, Boxing Day, new year, Easter, summer holiday, Bonfire Night, Halloween, et cetera, et cetera, all rolled into one." Her voice lilting as she spoke, she skipped around the dresser, arranging the bouquet in several different positions until it finally pleased her, at which point she jumped on her stomach onto the bed next to Remus (who was reading avidly), her head supported in her hands and her feet swinging madly behind her.
'Minister of Magic Loses Once-Trusted Colleague
'Ministry officials report that due to the unfortunate accident regarding a herd of Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest on the outskirts of Hogwarts Castle, Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and former Hogwarts High Inquisitor, Headmistress, and Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, is now realized to be unstable and therefore unfit to continue in her position.
'"I've noticed some slight changes in her behavior," says the Minister himself, Cornelius Fudge. "She has become more irritable, more prone to verbal onslaughts, and generally a less competent and trustworthy colleague. In accordance with an action taken by members of my private council, it is my duty now to relieve her of her duties.
'When asked if he had anyone in mind to fill the now-empty position of Senior Undersecretary, he did not realily comment, except to say, "I've given it a little thought, yes."
'Madam Umbridge, on the other hand, had much to say on the subject of her firing when questioned by reporters, her most often-repeated sentence being, "This is an outrage!"
'Umbridge plans to bring her case before the court, hoping to convince Madam Amelia Bones, Chief Justice of the Wizengamot, that she was fired without just cause. When Madam Bones was inquired as to her opinion on the subject, she was quoted as saying, "I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her, and I never have."
'The Daily Prophet will keep you up-to-date on this situation as we receive more information.'
"Dear God." Remus looked a bit faint as he let the paper drop to his side once again. Tonks knelt over him and grabbed his face in her hands, thrusting her tongue into his mouth with enthusiasm. He didn't protest.
Pulling away from him with a big grin, she said, "I think this calls for a celebration. Who's up for a dance?" She began to do the Twist all around the bed, to the sound of Remus's laughter, and then she attempted the Electric Slide but tripped over her own feet and landed on the floor beside him. Giggling, she pulled herself up and met his eyes.
"So why are you so happy about this? She never did anything against you, Tonks."
"No, but there's nothing that makes me happier than a horrible person getting what's coming to them. And besides, whoever Fudge decides to hire next may not be such an intolerant prick..." Her voice dropped as she growled that last bit. "So, you know what that means?" she resumed cheerfully.
"I don't want to get my hopes up," Remus stated flatly, looking a bit deflated. "After all, Fudge isn't exactly the most unbiased person in the world, himself. Whomever he hires is bound to be almost as bad as Umbridge."
"Ah, yes, but you're forgetting something." He raised an eyebrow. "Now that You-Know-Who's returned, people are more apt to listen to Dumbledore than to Fudge, now they know he was right all along and all. So if Dumbledore gives Fudge advice, he's more likely than not to take it."
"True. But whom do we know who works-... Arthur." His eyes closed, hardly daring to hope that his answer would be Fudge's answer as well. Because he remembered what the older man had told him as soon as he had learned of Umbridge's Werewolf Employment Restriction Act being passed: "If I ever got a hold of some of the power that woman weilds, that law would be the first thing to be amended." He tried to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that was spreading from his head to his toes.
"Which means," Tonks continued, "that you'll be needing these soon, if we get our way. I'm glad I bought them when I did." She opened a white cardboard box at the foot of his bed, and pulled out something deep blue. In a minute she was holding up a navy wool robe, a pair of matching trousers, and a black vest. "Oh, and... I almost forgot..." She then opened another box under the first and produced a set similar to the first; only it was made in less formal, more durable material of dark brown. "I bought them hoping to give you a bit more diversity, but now that I know you'll be returning to work soon, it's even better."
A lump had formed in Lupin's throat. He gazed up at her. "Take it back, Tonks," he whispered, feeling a tear about to slip down his face.
"Nonsense, love. It's the least I can do."
"No, it's... you can't afford this, and I don't need... please. It's too much." He gingerly touched the fine wool coat, and then drew back his hand quickly.
"Remus, I'm not exactly a pauper. I can afford it, and I wanted to do something for you. I thought your chances of being effective might improve if you looked a little more... well to do. And I, for one, have been wondering to myself what wonders a good wardrobe revamping might do for your spirits. Now, mind you, these are not to be worn on the night of the full moon," she added, indicating his badly repaired robes folded inconspicuously atop his dresser.
"Oh, erm... sorry. I usually... well, I usually find it easier if I undress before the transformation, but you wouldn't leave the room, so..."
"Well, next month you won't have to worry about modesty, will you?" she asked, more to herself than to him. He caught it, however, and looked up at her sharply.
"What do you mean?"
She sighed. "I'm holding you to your word, Remus."
"My word?" Then the realization hit him. "New moon," he whispered.
"Look, I've been thinking, and I know you were very tired that morning, and probably didn't know what you were saying, and that night we kissed... well, I don't know what was going through your mind. But I'll tell you right now- when I said I loved you, I meant it. And I was hoping you meant it too, because I've been in love with you since before I met you, and even if you don't love me I still want to make love to you. I feel like you deserve it. And I feel like I deserve it."
That night began flooding back to him, and the morning after, and his thoughts became clearer. "I did mean it." He took her hand in his, looking at her seriously. "I meant that I love you, and meant that I want to show you exactly how much." 'If that's possible,' he thought to himself. "But you... I didn't really think about you when I was saying it- I mean, I did, but I didn't intend to make you promise me something... like that. So I won't hold you to your word, if you're just doing this for my benefit."
"Remus, I would have done it that first night, if you hadn't been so guarded. And I'd do it right now, if you weren't so weak. I'm not letting you back out on me now."
"Oh, darling," he whispered, overcome with emotion as he feebly tugged at her arm and pulled her closer to him, his love pouring out into her in their kiss.
A cry from downstairs caused them to break apart. "Nymphadora! Remus!" came Molly's screech.
"I'll go down and see what she wants, then." Tonks drifted out the door dreamily.
The two women entered his bedroom together a few minutes later, Tonks still looking vaguely happy, Molly in tears. The older woman raced to the bed and embraced a shocked Remus, sobbing into his shoulder. He patted her back, unsure of what was going on.
"It's Arthur..." she managed.
"Oh, Lord-" he began to panic. "What's happened; is he all right?"
"He- he-" she hiccuped. "He's the Undersecretary to the Minister," she finally blurted, bawling even harder as he sat there stunned, not even responding when Tonks kissed him yet again, hard on the mouth.