First Quarter Moon

"Did it work?"

" . . . Did what work?"

"The dream catcher."

"Oh!" Remus had completely forgotten all about it. He had to think for a minute, but in the end he wasn't sure if it had worked or not since he hadn't had any dreams last night.

"So . . . I guess it sort of worked," said Tonks after he had told her this.

Remus shrugged. "Sort of," he agreed. Though, he was pretty sure the dreams had gone away because he didn't have to worry about her anymore.

"How do you think Marcus is doing?" she asked, glancing at the phone.

"I'm sure he's fine." Remus assured her. "But I'd give him a day before contacting him. You know? Just so he can get his bearings."

At that moment, Balaquer came into the kitchen where Remus and Tonks were having breakfast and (as usual) grunted, but it wasn't in greeting. He clearly didn't approve of them sitting together.

Tonks rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. Remus fought back a laugh.

"At least he's not talking anymore," she muttered, leaning closer to him so Balaquer couldn't hear. "But he's still an annoying pain in the ass."

Those had been Remus's exact thoughts. He shook his head, smiling. "No comment."

"You know," she whispered, keeping Balaquer under close scrutiny. "I bet you I could AK him, plead temporary insanity at the trial and get away with it."

She certainly sounded insane to him. "And what makes you say that?"

"It was in the paper," she explained. "A muggle woman pleaded temporary insanity because she had been on her period and-" She stopped. "Well, men don't really want hear about that kind of stuff, do they? Sorry."

"Well . . ."

"Any luck with Evens today, Prongs?"

"No." James said sadly.

"Oh," said Sirius. He wasn't really surprised. Practically every day James tried to get Evens to go out with him. Sirius thought that maybe he should try a different tactic. Like asking her every other day, for example. "Well, better luck next time, mate."

"She seemed really moody today," said James thoughtfully. "I mean, more than usual. I thought she was going to bite my head off for a moment there."

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe . . . you know . . . it's that time of the month for her."

James twisted his face into a look of disgust. "Thanks, Padfoot," he said sarcastically. "Like I really wanted to know that."

Just then, the door to their dormitory burst open.

"Oi! Moony!" greeted Sirius.

Remus glared at him.

"What's eating you?" asked James as Remus passed by him on the way to his four-poster.

Sirius grinned mischievously. "Maybe . . . you know . . . it's that time of the month for him."

Remus flashed him a vulgar hand gesture. Truth be told, the full moon was only a day or two away.

Sirius feigned surprise. "Did I just see an obscene hand gesture coming from-!" He didn't get to finish his sentence because James's feather pillow hit him on the mouth.

Remus lay down on his bed and drew the curtains forcibly around him as Sirius threw the pillow back at his attacker.

"Honestly, Padfoot," said James. "You're my best mate, but sometimes you can be a real prick." Yet James was smiling when he threw the pillow at him again.

Sirius shrugged. "It's a living." He suddenly turned, throwing the pillow at Peter who had been silently watching from his own four-poster. He was caught by surprise, the pillow hitting him hard on the head ("Ow!") and knocking him off the bed and onto the floor.

Sirius and James roared with laughter.

"Will you three KNOCK IT OFF!" Remus yelled from behind his curtain.

"Remus?"

He shook his head, dislodging himself from the memory. "Oh, sorry. I was . . . um . . ." It took him a moment to remember what they had been talking about. "So . . . did she get off?"

Tonks nodded.

He stared at her. "You're kidding," he said in disbelief.

She shook her head.

"What did she do?"

"I don't remember," said Tonks as she looked around the table for the paper. "It was something serious. Like robbing a store or something."

"And she got off just because she . . ." His friends may have made jokes about his "time of the month" but they were two very different things. "That isn't right," he said. "Just because she-" He suddenly noticed Tonks was staring at him. She looked all in a huff, and he realized he'd said the wrong thing. "Er, I-I mean-"

"I'm just teasing," she told him, smiling at the look of terror that had momentarily crossed his face. "I thought it was pretty ridiculous myself."

Oh, okay. Good. Remus sighed in relief. That could have been bad. "That's not funny."

She shrugged, smiling apologetically. "I thought it was."

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus caught Balaquer standing by the sink. He was taking his sweet time, watching the both of them. Remus really wished the git would leave, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. He turned to Tonks and put his hand on hers. "Listen, Nymphadora. Maybe we should-"

Balaquer cleared his throat loudly.

Tonks shot him looks of death but Balaquer had turned his back on them again. She reached for her wand and turned to Remus. "Let me do it."

She was whispering so quietly that he could hardly hear her, but somehow he could understand every word she said. He smiled. Then he realized she was only half joking about AK-ing him and shook his head.

She pouted. "Oh, come on."

He shook his head again, grinning at the look on her face. "No."

"Please?" She looked like a little girl begging for money to spend in the candy shop.

Remus had to fight hard not to laugh. "No."

There was a sparkle in her eye as she said, "I'm sure to get off. I'm insane, remember?"

He looked down at the table. He was sure to burst out laughing with the faces she was making. "I don't think so."

"Just a little hex?"

He was actually considering it when Balaquer slammed his plate down on the table. They looked up at him.

"Can we help you?" asked Tonks moodily.

"Pass the salt."

"Get it yourself-"

"Nymphadora." Remus tried.

"Remus," she shot back at him.

He raised his eyebrows at her. Really, it just wasn't worth it. He took his hand from hers, which was undoubtedly what Balaquer had wanted, and reached for the salt. He handed it to Balaquer who then began shaking it onto his eggs.

Tonks glared at Remus, apparently very disappointed in him.

"You're being childish," he mouthed.

She lifted her eyes to the ceiling as though to say, Yes, I am. Then she looked at him and stuck out at her tongue. What are you going to do about it?

Apparently nothing. Remus had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Balaquer finally put the salt down. There was no doubt in Remus's mind that he had witnessed everything that had just happened, and frankly . . . Remus didn't care. Balaquer took up his plate and was about to sit down when Tonks shot him a look that Remus felt would have sent Voldemort himself running for cover.

Balaquer quickly turned to leave, and, as he walked out, Remus noticed that magical words had appeared on his back:

I

AM

A

PRICK

Remus put his head down and laughed into the table because Balaquer surely would have heard him if he hadn't.

"Now who's being childish?" asked Tonks coyly, laughing freely now that Balaquer was out of ear shot.

"I didn't do that." Remus protested, lifting his head.

"No," said Tonks, twirling her wand between her fingers. It fell to the floor and she disappeared under the table for a moment to pick it back up. "But you're laughing, so you obviously approve."

Yeah, well, you do that to me. Remus hesitated and realized this was not a retort he wanted to share. "How long do you think?" he asked, nodding in the direction Balaquer had gone. "Before he notices, I mean."

She shrugged. Then she laughed. "I don't want to be around when he does."

Remus grabbed her hand. "Then let's get out of here."

"Oh, no," she said in mock concern. "Kingsley will have to be admitted into a mental institution if we just disappear without saying anything."

"Well . . ." said Remus, playing along. "If you'd rather not . . ."

Tonks practically leapt from her chair. "Are you kidding? Let's do it!"

Together they managed to get out of the house without anyone noticing. They spent what had seemed like hours outside in the backyard at the pond where Remus tried to teach her how to skip rocks. She had gotten it down to four skips when Kingsley came out of the house shouting like Mrs. Weasley.

Tonks gave Marcus a call the next morning and somehow convinced him to come over.

"I have to ask you a question before you can come in." Remus told him when he came to the door.

"Why?"

"Because . . . wizards and witches can disguise themselves as other people."

"Really?" asked Marcus, surprised. "So . . . Snape could disguise himself to look like me? Like shape-shifting?"

Remus nodded.

"Wow." Marcus tried to wrap his mind around the concept. He got a headache and stopped. "Okay, um . . . ask away."

Remus looked at him. "What did I specifically ask you not to tell Tonks?"

Marcus felt his eyes widen. "I didn't say anything, Remus. I swear."

"You told her I wasn't sleeping well," he pointed out. "And you never told me why you had been over here that night."

Marcus knew he was trapped. "I was . . . a little concerned about you," he admitted. "But I swear, the only thing I told her was that you weren't sleeping well. That's it! Nothing else. Honestly, mate, I wouldn't say something like that when you had asked me not to. You know I wouldn't."

Remus let out a slow breath as he realized his mistake. "Sorry, Marcus. But I had to be sure. You understand, right?"

Marcus shrugged, which basically meant that he did understand. "I can't be offended for too long, right?" he asked. "I mean, you'd turn me into a . . . I don't know. A toad or something."

Remus let out a laugh. "Nymphadora would turn you into a toad. I'd just-"

Marcus mouth dropped open. "Nymphadora! That's her name!"

Remus cursed inwardly and brought a hand to his mouth. He hadn't meant to say that.

"Oh, my god." Marcus laughed. He apparently found it very funny. "Nymphadora?"

"Marcus, shush," pleaded Remus. "She'll kill me. I'm serious."

"What are you going to do for me?" asked Marcus, still laughing. "That's two secrets I have to keep for you."

"I don't know." Remus hurriedly racked his brain for something. "Er . . ."

"You have to go to a concert with me."

"Deal." He was in a hurry to get Marcus to shut up before Tonks came by.

They shook hands on it. Marcus put on a straight face and entered the house. He started laughing again the moment he caught sight of Tonks, however.

"Be quiet." Remus hissed, though he wasn't sure Marcus had heard him.

Tonks decided to introduce Marcus to Wizard Chess. Remus wasn't sure it was a good idea, but Marcus seemed to like the idea that the pieces could move on their own. Before Remus could explain that the pieces could talk too, Tonks had conjured a couple chairs and a small table, and Marcus had pulled him into a game. Five minutes later, Remus couldn't decide if Marcus was a horrible chess player or if he just liked watching the pieces beat each other up.

"What the bloody hell's wrong with you?" demanded Marcus's rook. "Can't you see his knight? It's like you actually want us to lose!"

Marcus just laughed and ordered the rook forward. The chess piece looked up at Tonks who nodded. Reluctantly, the piece obeyed.

"They seem to like you." Marcus told her as he watched the rook march off to its doom. Then he realized how crazy that sounded. These were chess pieces!

"Yes. Well, I've had this set for a long time."

Remus ordered his knight to overtake the rook. It moved without complaint.

"How come they don't talk to you?" asked Marcus.

"Because," he said simply. "I'm not sending them on suicide missions."

Marcus sat transfixed as the knight clobbered his rook and then dragged it off the chessboard. "This is better than professional wrestling," he said enthusiastically as he ordered a pawn forward.

"I'm going to make some tea," said Tonks, standing up. "Do you want some?"

Both men nodded.

"Oh, wait!" Marcus shouted after her once she had gotten halfway across the room. "Now they won't listen to me." The pieces only seemed to follow his orders when Tonks told them to.

"Doesn't matter," said Remus as he commanded his bishop. "Checkmate."

"That's it?" said Marcus as he watched the king throw his crown at the bishop's feet. "No epic battle?"

Remus laughed. "You're enjoying this too much."

Marcus turned in his chair to make sure Tonks was out of the room. "I've changed my mind. Forget about the concert. I won't tell her you told me her name if you get me a set like this for Christmas."

Remus thought for a moment. He made sure none of the aurors were listening before he said, "I could probably do that. You'd have to keep it hidden, though."

"Right," he agreed. "Are there other games like this? Wizard Checkers?"

"Well, I'm sure someone's charmed a set. But this game's more popular." He thought for a moment. "We have our own sport. Did you know that?"

Marcus shook his head, seeming interested.

"It's called Quidditch, and we play it on broomsticks-"

"You mean that's true? You actually ride brooms?"

"Our worse kept secret," he told him. "We use them to travel short distances too."

"What do you use for long distances?" asked Marcus curiously.

"Well, there's floo powder - you throw it in the fire and it acts as a kind of portal - and then there's apparition where you disappear from one place and reappear-"

Marcus put his hand up. He was getting a headache.

"Sorry." Remus apologized. "Too much?"

Marcus nodded. "I think I'll just stick with chess. I mean, Quidball sounds interesting but-"

"Quidditch," said Remus, laughing.

"Whatever," he said. "I like chess. Let's just stick with that."

"Do you want to play again?"

"Sure, but . . . the pieces won't listen to me until Tonks gets back."

"I'll lose this time."

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

Remus reset the board and sent his pieces blindly forward.

"So," said Marcus conversationally. "I take it you've been sleeping better lately?"

Remus nodded absentmindedly and sent his rook forward.

Marcus countered with his pawn. If Remus had been sleeping, that meant he'd gotten the dreams to go away. And if he'd gotten the dreams to go away, that meant . . . "You really were worried about her then, weren't you?"

Remus looked up from the battle commencing on the board. Marcus knew this wasn't a conversation he wanted to get into, but he couldn't help it. "Look, mate, I just . . ." He gestured behind him. "Tonks is a beautiful girl, so why wouldn't you . . . There has to be something you haven't told me. . . . It doesn't have anything to do with the magic thing, does it?"

Remus sighed and sent his knight into harm's way. "I'm cursed, Marcus," he said sadly.

Oh, so it had everything to do with the magic thing. "What does that mean?" he asked after a moment. "I don't know what that means."

Balaquer moved a little closer to them. He looked out the window and seemed to be checking on the perimeter, but Remus knew he was really listening in on their conversation.

"It means," said Remus slowly. He didn't even bother lowering his voice. He was too fed up with Balaquer to care. "That I can't have a normal life."

"How?" Marcus wasn't paying much attention as he sent his knight onto the field.

"I have - well, had a muggle job because I can't get one in the wizarding world. And that's because most people don't . . . want someone like me around."

"Isn't that discriminatory?"

"Well, certain legislation was passed . . ." He waved it off with his hand, signaling that he really didn't want to talk about it. He moved his pawn. "The point is that it's virtually impossible for me to get a job in the wizarding world."

"Well, why?" asked Marcus, blindly moving his bishop. "What's so bad about being cursed that people don't-" And then he remembered what Remus had said about his dreams and how he, Marcus, had wondered why he would dream about such things. "When were you cursed?" he asked slowly.

Remus looked up at him, wondering if he should answer that question. "I, um . . . I was very young."

Remus had said before that he'd had the dreams since he was little. Marcus stared at him, hardly daring to ask the question. Remus swallowed, aware that Marcus had figured something out, but unsure as to exactly what it was or whether he really wanted to hear what Marcus was about to say. However, Marcus didn't seem to be able to say anything. His mouth was open but there was no sound.

"You . . . you hurt people?" he barely managed to rasp out.

Balaquer scoffed, still looking out the window.

Remus rested his head in his hand and looked down at the table, the game forgotten. There was a notch in the wood and he picked at it. "I could," he said.

"Randomly?" he blurted.

"It's on a time frame," he explained. "It happens every-" he stopped. There was no way he was going to tell Marcus that. At present, he had no clue werewolves existed and Remus wanted to keep it that way.

"Have you ever . . ." Marcus hesitated, realizing this was a touchy subject. "Hurt anyone?"

Remus shook his head. A bit of the wood he was picking at chipped away. "I've come very close." He looked up. "Marcus, you have to understand. I don't have any control over it. I don't have any idea what I've done until after the fact."

"Is it like . . . like a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing?" asked Marcus, trying to relate it to something he knew.

Remus thought about it. "Sort of." At least when Jekyll turned into Hyde, he was still a man.

"You weren't visiting your mum all those times, were you?" he asked.

Remus shook his head. "Mum's dead. She got sick," he explained.

"I'm sorry."

"It happened a long time ago."

"I mean, I'm sorry I brought this up," he said. He wanted to ask a few more questions but he could tell Remus really didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't going to press it any further. "That's just . . ." He didn't know what to say. He was completely blown away.

Remus hesitated. "Listen, Marcus, if you're . . . uncomfortable with-"

"What? No, I didn't mean . . . Well, you're careful about it, right? I mean, you've been living with me for how long and I've never known. You never told me anything - which really ticked me off at some points but - you have to do what you have to do, right? I guess what I'm trying to say is . . ." He shrugged. "I don't mind."

"So . . . you're okay with it?" he asked.

He shrugged again. "Yeah, whatever."

Balaquer made a sound of disgust and walked away.

Remus smiled. "Thanks, Marcus."

Marcus turned in his seat to see where Tonks had gone. She wasn't back yet. "Tonks . . . she knows, right?"

"Yeah," said Remus, finding a sudden renewed interest in the game. "She knows."

"And she doesn't care?"

Remus shook his head. "It's your turn."

Marcus leaned forward and lowered his voice so no one else heard. "Mate, listen for a minute."

Remus looked up at him. Marcus glanced over his shoulder again, but when he turned back it was Sirius who was sitting across from Remus and saying, "Exactly how many chances like this do you expect to get?"

"What?" Remus shook his head and the vision of Sirius faded.

"Think about it," said Marcus. He looked down at the board and moved his queen. "Checkmate." He stood up. "I'm going to check on Tonks."

Remus's mind was in a haze. Had Marcus actually said that or was he, Remus, just imagining things? He suddenly realized Marcus had checkmated him. He looked down at the board. "Wait-How did you do that?"

Marcus turned and shrugged, walking backwards.

"Marcus, watch-" Remus called out, but too late. He slammed right into Tonks who had just come out of the kitchen carrying a tray of hot tea.

There was a crash, then muffled curses and hurried apologies. Remus got out of his chair, coming toward them, but then Tonks took her shirt off. Remus immediately turned in the opposite direction.

Tonks couldn't help it. That tea was scolding! She ripped her shirt off, afraid of being seriously burned. All the men in the room turned respectfully the other way . . . though some were so shocked that it took them a little longer than the others. But it wasn't like she really cared. She did have a bra on, after all. It wasn't like they could actually see anything.

"Tonks, I'm so sorry." Marcus kept his eyes down, making sure to look everywhere but at her. He felt so stupid. He'd just spilt scolding hot tea down her front, not to mention he'd broken everything. And she'd taken her shirt off!

"Don't worry about it," she said quickly. "Just give me a hand, will you?"

"Sure." He grabbed the tray and a cup and then realized that everything had been repaired. She must have fixed it with her wand when he hadn't been looking properly.

He followed her into the kitchen and placed the items on the counter. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention-"

"It's alright," she assured him. "There. See?"

He looked at her. The blouse she was wearing was now completely dry as though nothing had happened, but- "Um . . ."

Tonks looked down. The shirt was missing a button or two, causing the neckline to dip dangerously low. She cursed and turned from him, franticly looking through the drawers for a safety pin. "I was never very good at those kind of spells."

"I really am sorry," said Marcus who couldn't seem to apologize enough.

"Really, it's nothing. I do stuff like this all the time." She laughed. "The look on Remus's face . . ." She shook her head. "Almost made it worth it." She closed the drawer. There weren't any safety pins. "Oh, well." She moved about, making tea for the second time.

Marcus watched her for a while before finally making up his mind to ask. "What is it about him?"

Tonks looked up from her work. "Pardon?"

"It's just . . . well, Remus said he was cursed and I was wondering-"

"He said that?"

Marcus nodded. "I mean, it's none of my business why you-"

"I suppose . . ." Cursed. She had never thought of it that way. Hmm. She went back to making tea. So, Marcus wanted to know why she liked Remus. Well, that was easy. "He sees me."

"He sees you?" he repeated slowly. What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean?

Tonks nodded. "I remember . . . a year ago - well, no. It's been longer than that. I don't really remember exactly when it happened, but he looked at me and I felt as though he could see right through me. It was like he could see all my faults, my weaknesses, and my secrets. I was so terrified. And maybe it was just my imagination then, but now . . . sometimes I feel like he knows me better than I know myself. I could list everything about me that I don't like, and it wouldn't matter because - even though he's never said anything - I know he likes me just the way I am. I like the way I feel when I'm around him. He makes me the person I've always wanted to be because he looks at me and sees absolutely nothing wrong with me."

She paused before continuing. "And when it comes to him . . . there's things about himself that he doesn't like. And I wish he wouldn't be so hard on himself because there isn't one thing about him that I would want to change if I could."

"What about the curse?" asked Marcus.

Tonks shook her head. "Not even that. There's a saying that goes: 'We like people for their qualities, but we love them for their defects.' And I do. I really do." She picked up the tray of tea and headed for the door.

Marcus followed her, thinking silently. We love people for their defects? So . . . wait. Did that mean that she loved him because of the curse, not in spite of it? He was a little confused. Had he heard her correctly?

Tonks sat the tray on the table as Marcus sat down. Remus turned to her and his eyes lowered to the dip of her neckline. He quickly drew his eyes away. Marcus laughed and Remus gave him a good kick from under the table. Tonks excused herself and she went upstairs to change. Remus glared daggers at Marcus.

"What?" he said, laughing. He raised his hands in a protest of innocence. "I didn't do anything!" But as he tipped the chair back on its hind legs, Remus was reminded too much of Sirius. And Sirius, although innocent of the crime he had been sent to Azkaban for, had always been guilty of some form of mischief or another.

Marcus spent the night and the guestroom was finally put to good use. The next day, Tonks gave him an album of moving pictures to look through along with a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans to try. Marcus thought the pictures were cool, but he soon moved onto the Every Flavor Beans and spent a good hour trying them.

Tonks set up the chess set again and talked Marcus into a playing a round with her.

"Okay," said Marcus as he sat down. "This time it's serious."

Remus watched. Marcus wasn't a half-bad chess player, but Tonks was better.

Marcus folded his hands behind his head once the game was over. "A gentleman always lets a lady win."

Tonks laughed. "Oh, yeah, right!"

"I play winner." Remus announced.

Marcus gave up his seat and watched the game. Tonks won again.

Remus shrugged. "I'm just following Marcus's example."

Tonks threw her head back. "You're both full of it!"

Marcus hung out with them for the rest of day, but once the sky began to darken he decided it was time for him to go. He shook hands with Kingsley and Remus and gave Tonks a hug. "I guess I'll see you later," he said as he turned to leave. "Oh! I left you guys something in the kitchen, but don't look until after I've gone."

"Wait a minute."

Marcus turned around. "What?"

"What are you planning?" asked Remus suspiciously.

Marcus looked at him strangely. "I'm not planning anything."

Remus stared at him and look of complete disbelief fell over his face. "I know that look," he said slowly.

"Yeah . . ." said Tonks just as slowly. "I know it too."

They both looked liked they'd just seen a ghost.

"Okay," said Marcus. "You're both starting to freak me out. I'm leaving." He walked out the door. McKinley charmed himself and disappeared after him to keep watch.

Tonks and Remus turned to each other. It couldn't be . . . Sirius?

"I'm losing my mind."

"If you're losing it," said Tonks. "Then I am too."

Remus shook his head. "No, because just the other day I thought I saw-" He paused. Kingsley was looking at the pair of them strangely. "Let's see what he left us, shall we?"

Remus pulled Tonks into the kitchen. It was dark inside. The only light came from four candles sitting on the table that was set for two. There were two wineglasses along with an expensive looking wine bottle, and a whole dinner was set out.

"What's going on?"

The door closed with a snap behind them. Remus turned and twisted the doorknob. It was locked. He reached into his pocket for his wand but- "My wand's gone," he said as he checked his other pockets.

Tonks felt around for hers. "Mine's gone too." She gasped suddenly. She was willing to bet anything that Marcus had taken hers when he'd hugged her, and Kingsley had taken Remus's when he and Marcus had shaken hands.

Remus jiggled the doorknob. "Kingsley! This isn't funny! Let us out!" He pounded on the door, but it was useless. They were stuck.

He turned back to the table. It was a romantic setting for two. After everything he had told Marcus . . . "I'm going to kill him." Remus said, carefully uttering every syllable.

Tonks giggled.

"Well, I'm glad someone finds this amusing."

Tonks shook her head. "It's just that . . . it's so strange." She wiped at her eyes.

Remus stared. Was she crying?

She sniffed and turned to him. "I had overhead Sirius and Molly plotting to lock us in a closet together until we'd talked everything out. Obviously this is much bigger than a closet and I doubt Sirius had planned on providing dinner but . . ." She trailed off.

"When did you hear about this?"

"It was just a few days before . . . before he died." She spread her arms, gesturing around her. "I mean, it's almost like he . . ." She stopped to wipe her eyes again. "I'm sorry it's just-"

"No," he said. "I know what you mean. Yesterday, when you weren't there, we were talking and I could've sworn Sirius was sitting across from me instead of Marcus. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah," she agreed. She sniffled.

Remus went to her. "Are you going to be all right?"

She took a shaking breath. "Yeah." She took another more steady breath this time. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He gestured toward the table. They were stuck in here so they might as well. "Shall we?"

Marcus knocked on the front door. Kingsley opened it.

"One wand," said Marcus, smiling as he held it up. "Special delivery."

Kingsley took Tonks's wand and put it in his pocket with Remus's.

"How are they doing?"

Kingsley looked behind him. "Well, they stopped trying to break the door down, so I think they realize they're going to be in there for while." He turned back to Marcus. "Great idea, by the way."

Marcus shrugged. The idea had just sort of dropped out of the sky, so to speak. He didn't know where it had come from. But once he'd thought of it, he'd felt like it should have been done a long time ago. "Let me know how it goes, will you?"

Remus opened the wine bottle and filled both their glasses.

"Who do you think cooked?" Tonks asked, looking down at her plate curiously. "Not Marcus, surely."

Remus shrugged. "He mentioned that he'd had to pick up a few culinary skills while I was gone."

Tonks took a careful bite of her food before saying, "Speaking of Marcus . . . he mentioned the other day that you told him you were . . . cursed."

He looked up at her. It sounded like she was trying to get more information out of him, but he wasn't sure what she wanted him to say. "Yes, I did. Why?"

"Well, it's just . . . " She met his eyes. "I had never thought of it that way."

He stared at her. What other way was there to think of it?

Tonks sighed. She would have liked to enjoy the dinner that had been set up for them, but if she allowed herself to pretend that nothing was bothering her, she knew she'd regret it. She reached into her pocket. "I found this when I was throwing out the trash, and I've been meaning to ask you about it."

She slid the object across the table. It glinted in the candlelight as she took her hand away, and when Remus saw the shape of it, he knew what it was.

Remus Lupin, Werewolf, Sight Seeing.

He picked up the badge he had worn at the ministry and explained to her how he had gotten it. When he had finished, she didn't look at all angry about Scrimgeour's new policy. It was as though her mind was on something else.

"Why did you hang on to it?" she asked, gesturing at the badge.

"I didn't," he told her. "I threw it away."

"I found it in your room a few days ago," she said. "It's been two weeks since you went to the ministry."

"Then I suppose it was in the rubbish bin for two weeks." He wondered why she was making such a big deal out of it.

She shook her head. "You're lying." She spoke softly and sounded anything but accusing. "You know it wasn't in there for two weeks. I can tell because lying makes you uncomfortable, and when you're uncomfortable, you hesitate while you talk."

Had the circumstances been different, he would've taken the time to be amazed that she'd noticed such a small detail. "I put it in a drawer," he admitted. "And I forgot about it. When I was packing up to leave, I found it and threw it away." He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

She scooted her fork around on her plate. She hadn't eaten much. She glanced over at his plate and noticed that he hadn't either. "Marcus said something to me about you when I first met him. He told me later that he'd just been talking out his arse but . . ." he paused. "I think he might have hit the mark without realizing it."

He stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

"I told him how I felt about you and how you keep throwing excuses at me-" Remus opened his mouth to object, but Tonks went on. "He said it sounded like you didn't think you deserved me."

Remus blinked. "What? Why would-?"

"I don't know why I never noticed before," she said, cutting him off. "I guess since I've always thought you were so wonderful, I couldn't see how anyone - least of all yourself - would think any differently. But I was wrong." She looked into his eyes. "You've told me over and over that you're too old, too poor and too dangerous. I used to think you were just being noble, but now . . . Marcus was right. You think I deserve better. You don't think you're good enough. You don't think you deserve me . . . or to get married or have a family or . . . or to be happy."

He didn't say a word as she went on. His face remained blank, expressionless. She knew that he knew that if he said anything, he'd give away what he didn't want to share with her. She watched him build a brick wall between them through his silence.

"It's not your fault that you're like that." She kept going because she needed to get it all out. "You've been told everyday since you were little that you were worthless. You couldn't find a school that would let you attend because you'd been bitten. You didn't want James or Sirius or Peter to find out because you were afraid they'd turn their backs on you. It was hard enough for you to find a job before Umbridge got that legislation passed. Saint Mungo's has its 'no treatment' policy. Scrimgeour passed that new Act and made you wear that ridiculous badge. Hogsmeade placed that ban. Then there are everyday assholes like Balaquer and Vorderman who aren't ashamed of telling you what they think of you. You aren't pessimistic by nature, Remus. This crap has been pounded into your head day in and day out so that when someone like me comes around and tells you how amazing you are, you literally think it's too good to be true."

She paused before continuing because she knew that if what she had just said hadn't hurt him, then this certainly would. She looked at him apologetically. "There was one person who could've made all the difference . . . and I guess in a way she did."

"Nymphadora-" He closed his eyes, trying to shut himself off from the pain of rejection.

Tonks knew he didn't want her to continue, but she also knew that she couldn't stop now. "You thought you loved her," she said. "You thought you could trust her. So, you put your heart on the line and told her the truth. You told her you were a werewolf and she couldn't handle it." She stopped because it was hurting her to know what she was doing to him. "Grace dumped you, didn't she?"

He didn't give her an answer, which was fine because she already knew what it was. He got up from his chair without excusing himself and went to the door. He knocked twice. "Kingsley, open the door."

There was a tone of urgency in his voice, and Tonks knew Kingsley didn't hesitate before complying. She knew he practically rushed to open the door because that's what she would have done in his place.

As soon as there was enough space, Remus squeezed in between the door and the wall and vanished up the stairs as quickly as he could go without running.

Kingsley watched him leave and then peered into the kitchen at Tonks. "Er . . . I guess it didn't go every well."

Well, yes and no. Remus was undoubtedly upset, but Tonks knew she had finally gotten somewhere. At last, she was beginning to understand why Remus continuously pushed her away. "Actually," she said. "For what it's worth, I think it went rather well."

Remus sat on the bed in his room, forcibly wiping away the moisture that had sprung to his eyes. Merlin's beard, did she have to lay it all out like that? But then he realized what he had never realized before.

I am too old for you, too poor . . . too dangerous.

When he had said the words, he'd thought he had simply spoken the truth. Those were obvious reasons why a relationship between the two of them would never work. But after what Tonks had just said, it became clear to him for the first time that he truly didn't think he deserved her.

And why would he deserve her? Hadn't Grace said it plain as day? What would make him think anyone could possibly love someone like him? And it wasn't just Grace. He'd been told nearly his whole life that he didn't deserve the light of day . . . and all because of what he was.

From some desperate part inside of him, he cried out that they had all been wrong . . . but when you've been looked down upon practically every day of your life, and when everyone had died who had truly mattered and who could have told you that everyone else was just full of themselves, what did you have left to convince yourself that there wasn't indeed something truly wrong with you?