Waxing Gibbous Moon
Tonks hadn't gotten a real chance to speak with Remus since the night they'd been locked in the kitchen as he was doing his very best to avoid her. Truth be told, he was doing his very best to avoid everyone. The full moon was only a day or so away, depending on how you looked at it, and he was feeling antsy.
He could feel the curse running through his veins as though the wolf was impatient to break free. Not yet, he told it. It's not your time. But it would be soon, and he felt like he was a danger to everyone, as though he had an infectious disease and needed to be isolated. He hated that feeling. Sometimes it went away, sometimes it came and went continuously, and sometimes it stayed with him until he transformed. Either way, it drove him mad.
Usually when he got like this, he rented a room at an inn and stayed there for a day or two where everyone he knew was safe from him. But Molly had a night out planned for Tonks and she had said that she expected Remus to be there and had gone on to add that there would be hell to pay if he wasn't. Damn that woman!
So, unable to leave, Remus had taken to barricading himself in his room. He left only to go to the loo (which didn't exactly count since the bathroom was attached to the bedroom).
Tonks was in the kitchen, making a sandwich, when Remus appeared as he had been doing when it was time to eat. He quickly put a sandwich together and then disappeared again before anyone had the chance to say a word to him.
Tonks watched him go. She ate her sandwich, then went upstairs. She was sure the last thing Remus wanted at the moment was company, but she was worried about him. She decided not to knock since he was sure to tell her to go away.
She eased the door slowly open. He was sitting against the headboard of the bed and reading this morning's Daily Prophet. His hands shook slightly and the paper shook with them. Eventually, he put the paper down and then pressed his hands together in an effort to get them to stop.
Tonks stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Remus snapped his head up, his hands flying to his side.
"Nymphadora!" he gasped, surprised to see her.
She smiled softly and stepped further into the room. "I can walk in here now," she said. "Did I tell you?"
He shook his head, and she turned slowly in a circle to demonstrate.
"Congratulations," he told her, but it was only half-heartedly.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He nodded. "I'm fine."
She didn't believe him. "You didn't eat much." She indicated the half-eaten sandwich on the end table.
"I'm not hungry."
She went to him and took his hands in hers. "What is it?" she asked.
"It just happens," he told her, needing to tell someone. "It's like I can feel it . . . like it's ready to break lose and I don't know how long I can hold it back. I feel . . . feral."
"You're not a danger to anyone until the full moon," she reminded him.
"I know. I just feel like-"
"I think it's all in your head," she cut in.
"Maybe."
They were silent for a moment. Then Tonks said, "Let me hold you."
Remus blinked. He wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. "Nymphadora-"
"Please? It might help."
"I don't think-"
But she'd already moved behind him. Before he knew what was happening, his head was resting against her shoulder and her arms were around him. She took his shaking hands in her steady ones, and he felt himself begin to relax.
"I'm sorry," she said. "About that night in the kitchen."
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it."
"I hurt you."
"Everything you said was true."
She bit her lip. "Remus, I want you to know that all I've ever wanted was to make you happy, to take some of the weight off your shoulders."
He didn't know how to tell her that she did that everyday.
Kingsley managed to drag Remus out of his room the next day. They stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Tonks. She had set an hour and a half aside to get ready for her night out. It wasn't required to dress up as they were only going to a pub, but it was Tonks's night so she could do whatever she wanted.
"We're going to be late!" Kingsley shouted up the stairs. "Molly and everyone are probably there already!"
"I'm coming! One minute!" she yelled back.
Kingsley turned to Remus and Marcus and shrugged. Women.
Marcus had been invited to come along (he'd even picked out the pub they were going to). He had shown up at the door five minutes ago.
"I think she just likes to aggravate you." Remus said to Kingsley. "She sneaks out of the house when she's supposed to stay inside, but now that she can leave freely, she's going to drive you mental by not going."
"Yeah? Well, you can wipe that smirk off your face, Remus, because I know you helped her out of the house at least once."
Marcus tried to disguise his laughter but failed miserably. Then suddenly, he stopped laughing and stared straight ahead at the stairs.
Remus turned to see what he was looking at and did a double take. Tonks stood on the bottom step dressed in the ocean blue dress that had belonged to her mother, and she had changed her hair to match. He couldn't tell what else she had done in the hour and a half, but, whatever it was, she simply glowed. Remus couldn't pull his eyes away.
Tonks focused on the three men in the room who mattered to her: Marcus, Kingsley . . . and Remus. All of them were giving her the deer-in-the-headlight look. Kingsley was the first to recover and he smiled at her approvingly. Marcus was next. He turned from her to glance at Remus whose mouth had dropped open.
Tonks felt the heat rise to her cheeks, and she looked down at the floor for a moment. When she lifted her head again, Marcus was beaming at her and Remus was waking in her direction.
Marcus looked over at Kingsley and winked. Kingsley turned to Balaquer who was standing next to him and said, "If you so much as think anything berating, you thick, pompous bastard, so help me, I'll-"
"You look-" Remus said when he reached her. He paused, struggling to find the right word. "Amazing."
Tonks couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face. "Thank you." She lifted her eyes, indicating her hair. "No pink."
"I like pink," he said, playing with a strand of it. "This is nice too," he added. Then he whispered in her ear. "You're beautiful no matter what, Nymphadora."
She smiled. "Would a gentleman such as yourself care to escort a lady?"
He offered his arm. "At your service."
Only when they had gotten halfway out the door did Remus finally ask himself what the hell he was doing. However, at that point it was too late to turn back. He opened the door of the rental car for her and she slid in across the back seat. He slid in after her, and Marcus climbed into the passenger side. Kingsley got in up front; he was driving.
Tonks didn't know how Kingsley had gotten one of the Ministry's rental cars and she didn't ask. He was just good at that kind of stuff.
He turned the key and the ignition and they were off. Balaquer and McKinley weren't coming. This was Tonks's night out, and, besides, six members of the Order of the Phoenix should be more than enough of a guard.
"Dance with me?"
Remus looked up from his drink at the hand Tonks was offering him. He stole a glance around the table. Kingsley, Moody, Molly, Arthur, Hagrid, Marcus and Minerva were all pretending to be wrapped up in conversation, but Remus knew they had all heard Tonks and were waiting for his answer. Thinking of what he'd have to face from each one of them if he turned her down, Remus took Tonks's hand. "Sure."
He could practically feel everyone's approving glances on his back as she pulled him onto the dance floor. A jute box in the corner was playing unfamilure, yet entrancing music and setting the mood. Remus didn't know the words to the current song, but it had a good beat to it.
"I thought you were going to say 'no' for a moment there." Tonks told him as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah, well I figured if I said that, then Hagrid would probably squash me."
She laughed. "The gentle giant."
He gave her a spin for fun. "Hagrid can be scary if he wants to." He knew from experience. When he had dated Tonks after Dumbledore's death and then had suddenly broken it off, Hagrid had come to him with his two cents about it. He had backed Remus into a corner and had shaken his fists at him. Remus had been seriously afraid of having his head separated from his body. Hagrid undoubtedly hadn't meant to be threatening, but Remus had seen his life flash before his eyes more than once during that short conversation. Come to think of it, it had been more of a monologue; Remus had just stood there and prayed.
Eventually, the song ended. Remus had had every intention of staying on the dance floor for a while since he and Tonks were enjoying themselves, but the song turned out to be a slow one. Remus hesitated, glancing up at the table. The faces he saw there told him clearly that they would all do worse than Unforgivables if he walked away so soon. Reluctantly, he stepped closer to Tonks.
"I don't get it," said Marcus to everyone at the table. They had long since gone through introductions. He had found it surprisingly easy to make conversation considering he was the only muggle at the table. He nodded in Remus and Tonks's direction. If anyone could answer the questions he had, it was the group of witches and wizards sitting with him. "Why is he so opposed to being with her? I mean, he told me he was cursed - so I can understand why he would be uneasy - but if Tonks doesn't care-"
"What all has Remus told you, dear?" asked Molly gingerly.
Marcus told her.
Molly bit her lip. "Well, you have the gist of it."
"You mean there's more?" Somehow he wasn't surprised.
"Cursed?" growled Hagrid as he emerged from his mug. He had ordered a larger drink than everyone else, but Marcus imagined everything had to be larger around this guy. He was gigantic! Like an over large biker dude . . . except that Marcus had trouble imagining Hagrid in a leather jacket and tattoos. He just didn't seem the type. "Cursed?"
"That certainly throws it out of perspective." Minerva agreed. She had ordered a small glass of wine.
"Sounds like some un put a spell on 'im, don' it?" said Hagrid. "But we all know he was-"
"Hagrid!" Molly jumped in. "Don't!" Plotting to get Remus and Tonks together was one thing, but this was another entirely. "I don't think we're the ones who should tell him."
"Who's going to tell him then, Molly?" inquired her husband, Arthur. "Remus apparently isn't."
"Certainly not!" agreed Minerva. "He didn't tell Pettigrew, Potter or Black, I can assure you. They figured it out on their own. One of them probably told Evans."
"And Sirius was the one who told Tonks." Kingsley added.
Marcus was lost. He didn't know any of the people they had spoken of. "Who's 'Serious?'" he asked, wondering if he had heard the name right.
They all looked at him as though he had just asked what two plus two equaled.
"How long have you known Remus, dear?" asked Molly gently.
"Er . . ." Marcus counted on his fingers. "A year? Yeah, a year. Give or take a month or two."
They all looked at each other. Remus had been living at Grimmauld Place, but he'd moved out after Sirius had died. He must have moved in with Marcus some time after that.
"And he's never mentioned," continued Molly. "Anyone by the name of James or Sirius or Lily?"
Marcus shook his head. "Who are they?"
But they didn't seem to have heard him. They were all looking at Molly pointedly. If Remus hadn't told Marcus about his best friends, then he defiently wasn't going to tell him about . . .
"Oh, all right!" she said, throwing her hands into the air. "Tell him. But I don't want any part of it."
The others turned to each other, looking like they were about to draw straws to decide who would carry out the deed. Arthur sighed and took up the torch.
"Marcus . . ." He paused, trying to decide the best way to put it. At last he said, "I work at the Ministry of Magic."
Marcus's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "There's a Ministry of . . . Magic?"
Arthur nodded. "The ministry's purpose is to keep the wizarding world hidden and also to protect the muggle world from the dangers of our own world."
"Dangers like what?" Marcus's mind was still reeling from the idea of a magical ministry.
"Dark wizards," said Arthur. "But also . . ." He paused again. "Well . . . there are magical creatures like dragons-"
"Dragons are real?" Marcus's head was starting to hurt again.
Once more, Arthur nodded. "There's also unicorns and . . . and phoenixes and . . ."
"Merpeople." Minerva supplied.
"Giants," said Hagrid.
"Are you?" Marcus asked quickly. Nothing would surprise him now.
"On'y half." Hagrid told him.
Only half! Marcus's brain was spinning like a top. He really needed to stop asking questions. Then he wouldn't get answers he didn't want to hear.
"Spinxes," said Mad-Eye Moody, putting everyone back on track. Marcus had avoided looking at him. The way his eye whirled around in its socket made him want to hurl. "Goblins. Leprechauns."
"Yes, yes." Arthur broke in. "Thank you. What I am trying to get at," he said, turning back to Marcus. "Is that there's also . . . vampires-"
"Vampires!" exclaimed Marcus. His head was surely going to explode. He couldn't take much more than this.
"And werewolves." Arthur finished.
Marcus didn't get it. His head was pounding too much. Arthur glanced pointedly in Remus and Tonks's direction. Marcus looked at Remus . . . and what Arthur had said rang in his ears. Werewolves.
Marcus felt his mouth drop open. It all made sense. Remus's scars. His avoidance of women. The dreams. The "curse." Why he liked to keep to himself. Why he disappeared once a month. Marcus had never paid attention to the phases of the moon but he was sure Remus had always disappeared around the time when the moon was full. And suddenly . . . his hesitance when it came to a relationship with Tonks made a whole lot more sense too.
"Holy-" Marcus cursed several times. Then, before anyone could say anything more to him, he got up from his chair.
"Where are you going?" asked Kingsley, alarmed.
"To get a drink," said Marcus slowly.
"You have a drink." Kingsley pointed to it.
"A stronger one." Marcus explained. He escaped to the refuge of the bar.
"I told you it wasn't a good idea," said Molly.
Remus had been dancing with Tonks for at least twenty minutes, and he was beginning to worry that he was enjoying himself too much. He liked the way she felt in his arms and the way her skin felt underneath his fingertips. He liked the way she smiled. It was the kind of smile that told him she didn't have any worries on her mind. It had been rare this past month.
He also liked the way the dress fit her, how it accented her curves. He liked how the material seemed to slide against his skin, as though it would be impossible to hold on to. He wondered what it would be like to watch it fall from her shoulders and onto the floor at her feet . . .
Whoa! Back up! He pushed the image of what Tonks would look like without that beautiful dress on out of his mind. He had seen her naked once before, but that didn't really count since he had been afraid for her life and therefore had not paid the slightest attention.
"Are you okay?"
"What?" He looked up at her, wondering where he had found the courage to do so. He had just been imagining her naked! "Yeah, I'm fine. I just . . . zoned out for a minute." He slid his arms back around her.
She smiled softly at him. "Getting tired?"
He nodded. "A little." He would have been relieved to sit down at the table and get these inappropriate thoughts out of his head.
"One more dance?" she asked.
He nodded because he didn't have it in him to refuse her . . . or himself for that matter. "One more."
Eventually the song ended and a new one came on. It was another slow one.
Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember, to let her into your heart, then you can start, to make it better.
Hey Jude, don't be afraid. You were made to, go out and get her. The minute, you let her under your skin, then you begin, to make it better.
And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain, don't carry the world, upon, your shoulders. For well you know that it's a fool, who plays, it cool, by making his world, a little, colder.
Remus wasn't paying any attention to the words. He was looking at Tonks, thinking of how beautiful she looked and how strange it was that she was such a gracefull dancer when she was normally tripping over her own two feet. He found himself wishing that the song would never end. He'd had fun dancing with Tonks and things were just so much simpular here on the dance floor. Here, at this moment, there was nothing to worry about; no approaching full moon, no complications with his and Tonks's relationship, no Snape, no Werewolf Protection Act, no . . . anything. It was just him and the music and Tonks, her hand resting in his and her other hand resting on his shoulder, him and her spinning around and around without a care in the world.
"What is it?" she asked him. There was a soft smile playing about his features.
"It's nothing," he told her sofly. "It's just . . . I've had a lot of fun tonight . . . thank you."
She smiled wonderously at him. Really, there was no reason for him to thank her. "Thank you," she said.
She pulled him tighter as though embracing him, and she rested her head against his shoulder. Maybe it was the music, but Remus didn't mind in the slightest.
Na, na na, na, na; na na na, na.
Hey Jude, don't let me down. You have found her, now go and get her. (so let it out and let it in)
Remember (hey Jude), to let her into your heart, then you can start, to make it better.
Moody got the attention of everyone sitting at the table, and they all turned to watch Remus and Tonks. The two of them looked extremely comfortable out there.
So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin, you're waiting for someone to, perform with. And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do. The movement you need, is on your shoulder.
Na, na na, na, na; na na na, na. Yeah.
Tonks lifted her head. She didn't know what she was thinking as she gazed into those soft brown eyes of his. Maybe it was the song. Maybe it was the atmosphere tonight and how carefree she was feeling. Or maybe . . . it was just plain desire. What she did know was that it had felt like the right thing to do at the time.
Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better. Remember, to let her under your skin, then you'll begin, to make it better.
Remus was sharply aware of how close they were to each other. He was aware of Tonks doing something, and he thought he might know what it was. But that was as far as his brain was willing to work. He didn't try to stop her, probably because he hadn't been able to think. Or maybe a part of him simply couldn't find a reason as to why he'd want to stop her.
Better, better, better, better, better, oh!
He felt her lips press against his, soft and tender. He loved the feel of it, how inosent it was. She opened her mouth slightly, her tongue brushing lightly against his lower lip in another kiss. And after a moment he decided to open his mouth as well . . . just enough to get a small taste of her. It was probably one of the most tender kisses he had ever and would ever expirence. He was about to open his mouth further when the back up generators came on in his head, and he realized what he was doing. Suddenly, he broke away from her.
Na, na na, na na na, na; na na na, na; hey Jude.
She looked as shocked as he felt. "Remus, I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean-"
"It's . . . all right," he told her, still surprised.
She brought her head forward to rest against his shoulder. "Oh, god. What was I thinking?"
Hey Jude.
"It's all right," he repeated, wrapping his arms back around her. He didn't know what else to say. He knew how she felt, though. Why did their relationship have to be so bloody complicated?
Na, na na, na na na, na; na na na, na; hey Jude.
After wondering how many more times The Beatles were going to sing "Na, na na, na na na, na; na na na, na" the song ended, and Remus let go of her. Tonks watched him go, unable to say anything. She just stood there stupidly. They had been having such a good time and she'd had to go and ruin it.
She felt a hand on her arm and she turned. "Oh, Molly."
"Come here, dear. It's all right," she said. "There now. Come with me." She dragged her off to the loo.
Remus wasn't going back to the table. He knew every single one of them had seen what had happened, and he couldn't face that at the moment. He headed for the bar . . . and then spotted Marcus sitting there. Slowly, he turned, forcing himself to look upon the faces at the table. They all turned away from him, unable to meet his gaze.
He headed for the bar again. "Marcus?"
Marcus had seen him coming. His drink was only half gone, but he ordered another for himself, thinking he was going to need it. "I just found out a whole bunch of crap that I really didn't want to know," he said as Remus sat down next to him. "And I don't want to hear another word about it . . . except, you're my friend so I have to ask . . ." He took a deep breath. Then he closed his mouth and tried again. "Are you really a werewolf?"
It took Remus a moment to process what Marcus had just said. When it all sunk in, he chanced another glance at the table. Again, no one would look him in the eye. He turned back to Marcus. "Yes," he admitted. "I am."
Marcus cursed and downed the drink the bartender had just brought him like it had been a shot. Remus stared. He had only ever seen Sirius down a drink like that.
"I don't want you to get the wrong impression," said Marcus, slurring his words slightly as he sat the drink down. "But there's only so much information I can hold in here." He tapped his head. "And the wizarding world is just too big."
Remus wasn't sure he understood. "Do you need me to move out?"
Marcus nearly choked on his second drink. "Did I say that?"
"I'm not sure what you said." Remus told him honestly.
"What I meant to say-" Marcus paused and rubbed his eyes like he had a migraine and they were hurting him. "I meant to say that . . . it's a lot to take in but . . . I mean, you're still you. I said I didn't have a problem with it before and . . ." He shrugged. "I don't have a problem with it now." He turned to him. "Hell, Remus, I've known you for a year. What did you think I would do? Besides . . . someone has to pay the other half of the rent."
Remus nearly laughed. "So you're going to keep me around for the money, are you?" he said sarcastically. "Fine. I see how it is."
Marcus shook his head in disbelief. "Werewolves," he muttered. He took a large gulp of his drink and then turned back to Remus. "Can I just pretend that you still visit your mum when you go away?"
Remus smiled. "Sure." He raised his hand to get the bartender's attention. "I'll have what he's having," he said, pointing to Marcus.
"Got something you want to forget too?" his roommate asked.
"You could say that."
"Why don't you just use that spell - Tonks mentioned it to me - the one that erases your memory?"
Remus thought about that soft kiss on the dance floor. He could, if he really wanted to, obliterate it from his memory to hopefully be lost forever. But, when it came right down to it . . . he didn't ever want to forget it.
"Remus?"
Remus paused before going into his room and turned to see Tonks's head sticking out of her bedroom door. She had apologized again in the car for kissing him, and he had told her not to worry about it. Still, he really didn't want to talk with her right now. All he wanted to do was go to bed and try to forget it ever happened.
"Yes?" he asked, cursing himself. Why did he always have to be so polite? Damn his morals!
"Could you help me with this?" she asked, turning around as he came toward her. Considering what she had done, Remus was the last person she wanted to ask for assistance, but there was no point in going downstairs when he was standing right there. "I can't seem to get it."
Remus stood in her doorway. She had her back to him and was trying to catch the zipper on the back of her dress that she couldn't get to budge.
"I've got it," he said without thinking. He took the zipper between his thumb and forefinger and pulled. It stuck for a moment but then slid down easily. The thin fabric gently separated, revealing the soft, pale skin of her back. Remus felt something wash over him, and all he could do was stand there and stare as he once again imagined the dress falling from her shoulders and to the ground.
"Thanks," said Tonks. She turned, holding the dress to her and not looking at him.
Remus swallowed. Say something, he thought. Don't just stand there. Stop perving and say something.
She shut the door in his face.
"You're welcome," he finally managed.
He headed back toward his room in a daze. He closed his eyes in the hopes of shutting out the image in his head of Tonks naked. It worked, but in his mind's eye he kept replaying how the fabric of her dress had folded away from her skin when he'd undone the zipper and he thought of how he wanted to . . . He shook his head. Merlin, he was going to go insane if he stayed here any longer.
He rushed into his room, searching for his jacket. He wasn't going to leave for good - he'd promised he wouldn't - but he had to get away. He found his jacket, pulled it on and hurried downstairs to the front door.
"Rushing off to pass Snape information, are we?" sneered Balaquer, heading for him. "You worthless shit of a-"
CRACK!
Balaquer was on the floor, pinks soap bubbles foaming from his mouth. Remus cringed. He had never liked that spell. There was always a chance the victim would choke or suffocate. Yes, Balaquer deserved it but . . . McKinley turned his head in the other direction, pretending he hadn't seen. He apparently didn't like Balaquer very much.
Kingsley removed the hex. "Open your mouth like that again, I'll leave it on next time and I'll hope you drown in it!" he threatened. He turned from Balaquer who was gasping for breath on the floor. "Remus, where are you-?"
Not wanting to explain, Remus wrenched the door open and hastened out into the night.
Tonks had heard the hurried footsteps, the crack, the sound of someone yelling, and the slam of the door. She quickly finished changing and then ventured downstairs to see what the commotion had been about. Kingsley gestured wordlessly at the door and she knew Remus had walked out.
She went into his room and noticed that he had left everything behind, so he had to be coming back. She sat on his bed, wondering why he would leave, and she eventually came to the conclusion that she'd had something to do with it.
She thought of the things she'd said when they'd been locked in the kitchen and of what she'd done when they had been dancing. He had told her not to worry about it but that didn't necessarily mean anything. He was probably just being polite.
She waited half an hour, but Remus didn't return. She thought about going after him, then decided to wait fifteen minutes more. When he didn't come back, she decided that an hour was too long to wait and went into her room for her cloak.
Reminding herself that she was the only wizard living in this neighborhood, she exchanged her cloak for her father's jacket and headed downstairs. Kingsley grabbed her arm before she could make it out the door.
"If you think I'm just going to let you walk out of here," he said. "You're mental."
"I have to go after him," she pleaded, trying to pull her arm from his grip.
"Do you even have any clue where he went?" he asked doubtfully.
"No," she admitted. "But I have an idea."
"If you're going, one of us is coming with you."
"No," she said. "Kingsley, please. You don't understand. It's my fault. If I hadn't . . . Please, you have to let me go on my own. I have to do this. Please."
She looked so desperate that he hesitated. "Tonks-"
"Please," she begged.
Kingsley fought with himself. It was irresponsible to let her go, but he could see how important this was to her.
"I have to go," she told him. "I have to talk to him. Just me. No one else. You have to understand that. Please."
Kingsley bit his lip, as though by doing so he thought he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth. "You have fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen?" that wasn't nearly enough time. "Forty five," she argued.
"Half an hour," he said as he looked up at the clock. "Starting now." And, against his better judgement, he let her go.
Tonks walked as fast as she could without running. The neighborhood she lived in was small. Houses were few and sometimes far between. But down the street there were a few small shops where the owners lived in the floor above. If Remus had gone this way, Tonks had a feeling he had stopped at the small pub next to the flower shop.
Remus was ordering another drink and thinking that he'd stay until he ran out of muggle money (which wouldn't take very long) when the last person he wanted to see came in through the door. He groaned inwardly and turned away, hoping the intruder wouldn't see him, but she did.
"You're hopelessly predictable, do you know that?" she asked, trying to catch his attention as she came over to him.
He looked at her, said nothing, and turned back to his drink.
"I'm sorry," she said.
She moved to sit next to him, but tripped. He reached out and caught her by the arm, apparently more sober that she had thought he was.
"For what?" he asked as she settled into her seat.
"For what I said," she reminded him. "For what I did-"
He put a hand up to silence her and shook his head. "You've got it all wrong. It's not you, Nymphadora, it's me."
That sounded like a bad break up line. "Care to elaborate on that?"
He didn't say anything. In fact, he acted like he hadn't heard her even though she knew he had. They sat in silence for a while. Remus seemed to be lost in thought, so Tonks gave him a minute or two. She kept a close eye on her watch, noting how much time she had.
"Remus-" she started.
He cut her off. "All my life, I've met two kinds of people," he said. "Those who pity me and those who fear me. People like Balaquer and Vorderman," he continued. "They're afraid of me. People who like me . . . they pity me."
"Your friends don't-" she objected.
"Kingsley and Molly do," he told her. "It's a very small amount, but I've seen it in their eyes. Even James and Sirius . . . and Peter, I saw it in their eyes too."
"I don't pity you," she whispered with strong conviction.
He turned to look at her, but again he didn't say anything.
"Marcus does too," he went on as though she hadn't spoken. "Now that he knows the truth."
"He knows?" It was news to her. "When did he find out?"
He paused. "When we were dancing, the others told him."
"What did he say?" she asked hesitantly. She didn't think Marcus would brake off his friendship with Remus because of that, but she could have been wrong.
"He said he didn't care."
"So," said Tonks slowly. "This isn't about Marcus?"
Remus ran a hand over his face as though he had already explained this to her. "No."
"And it's not something I did?"
"No," he said again.
He had only looked at her twice since she'd come in the door and it was starting to annoy her. She reached forward and snatched his drink from his hands. "Then stop feeling sorry for yourself and come home."
He threw his head back and laughed, taking her by surprise. "I don't have a home, Nymphadora," he said, reaching for his drink.
She held it away from his grasping hands. "Yes, you do," she insisted as though what he had just said was completely ludicrous.
"You mean my temporary stay with Marcus?" he asked, giving up on the drink for now. "Or my even more temporary stay with you?"
"For being so temporary, you've lived with him for a year," she pointed out.
He shook his head. "I'm always moving, Nymphadora. I never stay in one place for long . . . and I don't suppose I ever will."
She stared at him. She wanted to say that home is where the heart is, but that sounded cheesy. "I've always considered home," she said slowly. "To be where I know I'll be welcomed by the people who matter to me. And your friends will always welcome you, Remus. And you're more than welcome at my place. So . . . why don't you leave this and come home?"
He couldn't exactly argue with her. He'd had every intention of going back, just not at this very moment. But since she was here, he might as well. "After I finish my drink."
He reached for it, but she put it to her lips, threw her head back and chugged it.
Remus stared.
At last, her head came forward and she sat the empty drink before him. "There. It's finished. Let's go."
He followed her wordlessly out the door. They walked down the street in silence. Tonks checked her watch. They would make it back just in time.
"Have you ever wanted something," asked Remus as they neared the house. "So badly you could hardly stand it, but in the end it didn't matter because you couldn't have it?"
"Yeah," she said quietly, thinking of how long she had chased after him. "I have."
"It's unfair, isn't it?"
"What have you ever wanted so badly and couldn't have?" she asked, looking up at him. He refused to meet her eyes.
He was silent for what seemed like a long time, and then he said, "A normal life."
"What would you do with it if you had one?" she inquired, wondering what he thought he could do with a normal life that he couldn't do with the one he already had.
Again he was quiet for a while. "I wouldn't be alone."
She put her hand in his. "You don't have to be alone, Remus." I'm here.
"Yes," he said. "I do." He took his hand from hers.
Tonks felt frustration wash over her. What exactly did she have to do to get through that thick skull of his?
They made it to the door, and Kingsley let them inside. As soon as they had entered, Remus froze on the spot as though he had just realized something. Out of nowhere, he rounded on Kingsley.
"You let her out of the house on her own?" he demanded. "What on earth were you thinking?
Kingsley was taken aback. "Er, well, she insisted-"
"So you just let her go?" Remus pointed to the door. "You didn't even ask the question that time!"
Tonks shook her head. Maybe he wasn't as sober as she had thought. She took his arm. "Come on, Remus."
"You could have had McKinley go after her," he continued. "At least he can make himself invisible!"
"Come on, Remus."
She managed to pull him upstairs.
"Don't ever do that again," he said seriously, looking at her this time. "Don't risk your safety over me. I'm not worth that."
"I thought you were." She shoved him in his room and closed the door before he could say anything.
An hour or so later, Remus lay still fully dressed on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He felt rather depressed but he couldn't quite put his finger on why. Though, considering that the full moon was tomorrow night . . . that was probably the reason. Or maybe it had more to do with Tonks and how he wanted to be with her but knew he couldn't. Or maybe-
Or maybe, he thought. I've had too much to drink and I need to stop thinking about it and go to sleep. But he wasn't tired. Just as he was considering counting sheep, he heard the soft snap of his bedroom door closing. He looked up to see . . . Sweet virtuous mother of Merlin.
Tonks stood at the door. She was wearing a pink negligée that would have matched her hair except that she hadn't changed it from that ocean blue color. It was just low enough to cover her. Paralyzed from head to toe, he could do nothing but stare as she came toward him. He had to be dreaming.
Only when she touched the bed did his brain finally click on. Nope, not dreaming. He moved backwards, scrambling away from her until he hit the headboard and couldn't go any further. She crawled towards him on her hands and knees, slinking like a cat, until their faces were inches apart.
He stammered. "W-w-wh-what are you doing?"
"Don't worry." She settled down in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm not here to seduce you."
He didn't know what made him glance down, but, when he did, he noticed that the bra under the negligée she was wearing was lacey and black. He couldn't help but wonder if she had on matching panties. Chiding himself for entertaining such thoughts, he brought his eyes back up to hers. She was smiling at him as though she knew what had crossed him mind, and he felt the heat rise to his cheeks.
"Could have fooled me," he managed.
She shook her head. "I just wanted to get your attention."
"Yeah, well, you have it," he assured her.
She removed her arms from around his neck and leaned over to pull open the bed stand drawer. She reached in and pulled out a small clear vial.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked hesitantly as she held it up.
She nodded. "Veritaserum. Molly gave it to me while you were away. I guess she wanted me to knock you out or something and use it on you." She shook her head and placed the vial on the end table. "But I'd prefer if you'd just be honest with me."
He looked at the vial. Then he looked back at her and the way she was dressed. "Didn't you promise me when I said I'd stay that you wouldn't-?"
"Yes," she admitted. "But I said you were fair game once you left."
"I came back," he pointed out.
"We never discussed what would happen if you came back." The look on his face clearly said that he didn't think that was fair. "Besides," she sighed. "I already broke it anyway."
He blinked. "What?"
"When I went to the concert with Marcus," she explained. "I knew he had feelings for me - he doesn't anymore, by the way. Though, I'm sure you've figured that out - so I was hesitant to go. But I thought you'd be jealous so I went."
He didn't know what to say. For some reason, he was more amused than disappointed. Probably because he knew she wasn't proud of what she'd done.
"Did it work?" she asked suddenly.
He hesitated, silently contemplating what it would mean to lie to her. He couldn't possibly look her in the eye and tell her that he didn't have feelings for her. But telling her he hadn't been irritated by the way Marcus had put his arm around her was different, wasn't it? After all, you didn't have to feel strongly toward someone to be jealous when someone other than you took them out for a date.
"Be honest with me, Remus," she pleaded, noting his hesitancy. "I just want you to be truthful. That's why I came her tonight; to get some honest answers from you."
He stared at her. "You thought you had to dress like that to get a little honesty out of me?"
She shrugged. Then asked curiously, "Do you like it?"
He considered what she was wearing. He knew he should tell her that she shouldn't dress like that. It was inappropriate. Not only that, but they weren't the only people in the house. If anyone else had seen her . . .
He glanced over at the Truth Serum sitting on the bed stand and reminded himself that she could've used it on him but had chosen not to. She deserved some honesty. Then of course, there was always the fact that she could use it on him later if he didn't answer her truthfully tonight. He wouldn't put it passed her.
"Does it make me a pervert if I say 'yes?'"
She let out a laugh. "Well, that depends." She smiled at him but didn't elaborate. "So, did it work? The concert with Marcus?" she inquired, pulling him back to their previous subject."
"Yes, it did," he admitted. "And I have-" He lifted his hand to the back of his head. "Well I had the bump to prove it."
"What happened to your head?" she asked, concern filling her voice.
"I fell off the chair," he said, as thought he hated the thought that he'd done something so stupid. "I was watching you and Marcus from the window, and when he . . . kissed you . . . I guess I was so shocked that I fell off."
"I'm sorry." Her hand went to the spot on his head where his own hand had been earlier to assess the damage. She hadn't meant for him to get hurt.
He gently pulled her hand down. "Don't worry about it."
She wetted her lips nervously with her tongue. He wished she wouldn't. There was something sensual about that simple act.
"So then," she said. "You do feel something for me? Romantically?"
He took a deep breath and then let it out. He couldn't lie to her, not about something as important to him as this. "Yes," he admitted in almost a whisper.
His confession satisfied her for only a split second. "Then why do you push me away?"
"We've been through this," he said patiently, but at that moment she could see he was starting to build that wall back up between them. His wall of self-control. Remus Lupin's security blanket. "I'm too old for you."
"My parents were ten years apart," she told him. "I don't see how a few more years makes any difference."
"I'm too poor."
"And what if our positions were switched?" she asked, trying something new. "What if I didn't have any money and you did? Would you care?"
He thought about that one. "No . . . I don't suppose I would."
"And neither do I," she said.
"There's still the fact that I'm a werewolf."
"Remus, when you look at it, it's only twelve days out of a year. Twelve days out of three hundred and sixty five. Are you really going to let that stand in your way?"
"Yes," he said defiantly, and she saw the wall shoot up between them. "That's twelve days too many, twelve days or nights where I'm not in control, where I have no idea what I'm doing. I could hurt you or anyone and not even know it, not even care until it's too late. I could . . . I could even kill you and I wouldn't . . ." He trailed off, the thought apparently too horrible to say aloud.
"And anyone who can do that to someone they love clearly doesn't deserve to have them, is that it?"
He looked at her, and she could tell by the expression on his face that he had shut himself off from her completely. "Yes," he said stiffly, pushing her off him. "That's it."
He slid off the bed and headed for the door. He wasn't sure exactly where he was going, but he did know that this conversation was over. He had to get away from her.
The next thing he knew, she had grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "God damn it, I'm not through with you yet!"
She practically threw him back onto the bed. He was lying on his back and looking up into her face. Remus felt something boil up inside him for the first time in a long while. She was getting to be a damn nuisance. Why couldn't she just drop it and leave him be?
"Why?" she demanded fiercely. "Give me one good reason why the hell we can't be together!"
"Because I'm defective!" he shouted.
The words were out of his mouth before he even realized what he was saying. He had to stop himself from yelling, "Are you happy now?"
Tonks watched the surprise come over his face and she knew he hadn't meant to say those words, but she also knew that it was the most honest answer she had ever gotten from him. He brought his hands to his face. It hurt her to think that he thought of himself like that, that he actually believed all the crap he'd been told.
He felt her hands on his, gently pulling them from his face. As he looked into her eyes, he found himself wishing he were anywhere else. He wanted to be with her so badly, but there were better people out there for her to run to, people he knew she'd go to if she'd just move on. It would kill him to see her with someone else, but she deserved that much.
She scrutinized him, and he thought he knew what she would say. He waited for her to tell him that he was wrong, that he wasn't defective. But the words that came out of her mouth shocked him to the core.
"And I'm not?"
He stared. "Why would you think-?"
"I'm dead clumsy, Remus. You know that. I'm lucky if I can walk down the stairs without falling flat on my face. I'm completely dysfunctional."
"Being clumsy doesn't make you dysfunctional," he told her. "It make you unique. I've lost count of how many times you've tripped over that umbrella stand at headquarters, but that's never stopped you. No matter how many times you knock it over, you still walk by it and try again.
"I've never told you but . . . whenever I was having a bad day, I would think of all the walls you've walked into and how you just put a smile on your face and keep going." He paused. "It gave me some motivation." He fell silent and averted his eyes. After a while, he looked back up at her and said, "But you can't find something good about what's wrong with me."
She shook him, as though doing so would help make her words sink in better. "There's nothing wrong with you, Remus! Do you hear me? Nothing!"
She sighed. "Do you have any idea just how amazing you are? I think of Greyback and how he's attacking without the full moon now and then I think of you and . . ." She shook her head and looked at him as though what she thought was simply mind blowing. "You were bitten so young and ever after so many years you haven't bitten a single person, not one. Yes, there have been close calls but when I look at Greyback and what he's done and then I look at you . . . Remus, you try so hard not to hurt anyone, and I know it would tear you apart if you did. Greyback wants to hurt people. He's the animal. He's the defective one, Remus. He's the one who has something wrong with him, not you. The two of you have nothing in common, Remus, nothing."
He disagreed. He and Greyback had one very important thing in common. They were both werewolves. They could still hurt people, whether they chose too or not. Tonks didn't understand. It didn't matter that he didn't want to hurt anyone because it could still happen. He had no control over it, no choice in the matter.
Tonks could see that he hadn't understood her. Why couldn't he see that Greyback's choice to attack people left and right and that his choice to try and fight against it did matter? Why couldn't he see that it made all the difference in the world?
"Being a werewolf isn't as horrible as you like to think, Remus," she told him. "That crap has been put into your head, so I'll forgive you . . . but there is something good about it. At least, there is for me."
She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. "You wouldn't be the man you are today if you hadn't been bitten. I like to think that you'd be more carefree . . . probably not such a gentleman . . . and more rambunctious. A lot more like Sirius, in short," she explained. "And if you didn't notice . . . men like Sirius aren't exactly my type."
"He was your cousin," he pointed out.
She nodded. "Even if he hadn't been . . ." She shook her head. "He was a great guy, but not someone I'd target for a long term relationship. The point I'm trying to make is that your so called 'curse' is every bit as much a part of you as anything else. It makes you who you are. I happen to care for you very deeply, but if you hadn't been bitten, then I doubt I would've been attracted to you at all. I think you feel like you have to compensate for it, so in a way the curse brings out your best qualities."
She smiled. "You might hate me for it, but . . . I'm glad it happened. It brought me to you. And there isn't one part of you that I would change, Remus, not a single one."
He could never hate her, never. But he just couldn't understand. "Why me?" he asked her. "Out of all the men in the world, why do you think I'm the one you have to have?"
"Because I know you, Remus," she said softly. "Sometimes I think I know you better than yourself. You deserve happiness. You deserve love and laughter and a family, and I wanted to be the one to give that to you. You deserve to have someone to take care of you when you're unwell and to be there for you when you need them and to love you no matter what. You deserve to have someone to take some of the weight off your shoulders and to tell you how wonderful you are and to show you how to look on the bright side a little more often. You deserve to have someone to hold you when the day's gone wrong and to tell you everything's going to be okay when the world comes crashing down and to be there to share the good times with you as well. You deserve to have someone to battle the assholes with and to fight with you over stupid things just so you can make up afterwards."
She was laughing now but there were tears in her eyes. "The good and the bad that comes with a healthy relationship," she explained. "You just deserve to have that special someone in your life and I . . ." Her voice broke and she turned away from him for a moment before looking him in the eye. "I just thought it could be me."
Remus felt his defenses crumble. He stared at her, flabbergasted. What do you say to someone after something like that?
She sniffed. Then she got off the bed and headed for the door. She'd said all she had to say. If he still didn't get the picture, then . . . tears came to her eyes and she wiped them away.
Remus just lay there, staring at the spot where her face had been moments before. Don't just sit there, you stupid arse, go after her.
Tonks had nearly reached the door when a hand closed gently around her wrist.
"Nymphadora . . . wait."
She turned to him slowly.
"Let's talk about this," he suggested sincerely.
She shook her head. "I'm tired of talking about it, Remus. In fact, I'm sick of it."
"It will be different this time," he promised. "There are things you don't know, things I need to tell you."
It didn't matter anymore that they couldn't be together. It didn't matter that he was too old or too poor or too dangerous. All that mattered in that moment was that she had just bared her soul and he needed to tell her that he wanted to be there for her as well. He wanted to let her know that all she had to do was smile at him and it made his whole day better. Truthfully, even though he had never said anything, she already was that special someone in his life.
She shook her head again before he could say anything. "I don't want to talk about it," she repeated.
"Then what do you want to do?" he asked.
She seemed to hesitate for a moment and then . . .
She kissed him.
Just like before, he felt her tongue brush against his bottom lip, only more insistent this time. He opened his mouth willingly, praying for dear life that his mind wouldn't suddenly wake up and tell him that this was something he didn't want to be doing. Because he did want to be doing it. He wanted nothing more than to be standing in that room at that exact moment and snogging the woman he cared about most in the world.
Unable to dig up any opposition, he returned the kiss, hesitant and soft at first. Then a flame ignited inside him and began to grow. Surer of himself, he explored her mouth feverishly. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him as his mouth claimed hers.
Tonks couldn't believe this was happening. A burning desire shot through her, and she knew she didn't want this to end. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him greedily, urgently, like there was no tomorrow and tonight was all they had.
Remus knew only one thing in that space of time: She tasted like heaven and he couldn't get enough. He needed her, wanted her, desired her. She filled his senses. He could smell the wonderful scent of her hair that was every bit s unique as its color. He could taste her in his mouth and feel the softness of her skin against his own. His pulse was pounding in his ears. She was all he could see, even when he closed his eyes.
He matched her greed and her urgency, and when they finally parted, after what had seemed like several bright and sunny summers later, they were both breathless. And her hair had changed from ocean blue to the most brilliant pink he had ever seen.
"Nymphadora . . ." He had something he wanted to say to her, but his brain wasn't working and he couldn't remember what it was.
She kissed him again, drawing him away from whatever he was thinking. She was afraid that he'd say something she didn't want to hear and ruin everything.
Desire was crashing over both of them like waves generated from a hurricane, and there was a kind of neediness to it. Neither of them could say where this shock wave of emotion had come from. Perhaps it had been there all along. Nevertheless, they couldn't deny the intensity of what they were feeling.
She rubbed her hips against him suggestively and, in the far reaches of his mind, a voice of caution rang out.
"Nymphadora," he gasped.
She drew away from his lips and began trailing soft kisses down his neck, hoping that whatever he had to say, he'd just say it and get it over with.
"There are other people in this house," he reminded her, his skin burning pleasantly from the touch of her lips.
Oh, so that's what he wanted. She kissed his lips tenderly before moving to the end table where his wand lay. She went to the door and muttered a few choice incantations over it. Then she walked back toward him, dropping his wand to the floor without a care.
Remus watched her. He was captivated by the way she moved and how, when she walked, the negligée road up slightly, hinting at what was underneath. Desire had completely consumed him. He wanted her now and waiting was killing him.
She put her arms around his neck. "Happy?" she smiled, her lips almost touching his. She wanted to kiss him again but she forced herself to wait for his reply.
"Yeah," he whispered, drawing out the tension as he looked into her eyes.
He cupped her cheek and she took a moment to enjoy the feel of his thumb caressing her skin before he kissed her thoroughly. He pulled her closer and she kissed him back ravenously, running her fingers through his hair. Dear god, she had wanted to do that for so long!
Senses and emotions running wild, they both went tumbling onto the sheets.
Kingsley had the first shift that night. He stayed up and patrolled the house while the others slept. After he got bored with that (which didn't take too long), he went up stairs and down the hall to Tonks's room to check on her as he did every night.
However, when he opened the door and peered inside, there was no sign of a sleeping body in the bed. He moved into the room, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. But they weren't. Tonks wasn't there. The bed didn't even look like anyone had lain in it since the night before.
Kingsley did a quick sweep around the room. There didn't appear to be any sign of a struggle, but that didn't really mean anything. Still, there was no cause for alarm just yet.
He doubted she would've ventured outside (as she had been prone to doing) at this hour, but that was still a possibility. He checked the bathroom, but she wasn't there. He checked the guestroom (just in case), but she wasn't there either. He went to Remus's room, hoping that perhaps he'd seen her or maybe she'd said something to him . . . but the door was locked.
That was a little strange. Kingsley pulled out his wand, contemplating. Remus had taken to barricading himself in his room lately, but he had never locked the door. However, there was a chance that after the events of today, Remus didn't want anyone to bother him. Or maybe Tonks had decided to talk to him and didn't want anyone to barge in.
Kingsley raised his hand to knock, but, before he'd even touched the door, his fist went flying away from it. Weird. He tried again, and again his fist bounced back. Why was there an Imperturbable Charm on the door?
He raised his wand again . . . then stopped to think. The Order had gotten into the habit of always using the Imperturbable Charm when they had meetings. The charm was virtually a Do-Not-Disturb sign.
Kingsley hesitated. "Better Safe than Sorry" had always been one of his mottoes (though he didn't take it as far as Moody). He could remove the charm from the door, but his instincts were telling him that he'd sorely regret it if he did. He didn't know what was going on in that room, but he suddenly felt that he had a very good idea.
He left the door alone and went back downstairs. There was no way he'd be able to explain this to others. If they too noticed that Tonks wasn't in her room, what was he supposed to say? Don't worry about it, she's in Remus's?
He shook his head. His three-hour shift had just had several more hours add to it. He was in for a long night.
Remus lay staring up at the same ceiling he had lain staring up at earlier, but the scene under it had changed completely.
He kept waiting for his mind to come back and tell him what a terrible mistake he'd made. He dreaded the moment that the thought, Oh, my god! What have I done? would run through his mind. But the longer he waited for it, the more he realized it was never going to come.
"Are you all right?" asked Tonks from somewhere beside him.
He nodded, still looking at the ceiling. "I think so."
She covered is hand with her own and began absentmindedly caressing his skin with her fingers. There was something she wanted to say, but she was afraid of what his reaction might be. She debated on whether or not now was the right time to tell him.
Aside from his current physical state, Remus felt naked in every other sense of the word. Tonks had broken down his defenses, defenses he'd built and had carried for years. He'd relied on them all his life, and he had needed them to survive. But she'd broken through, and he felt as though he'd never be the same again, like his whole world had been turned upside down.
"I love you." Tonks said at last.
Remus's stomach did a few nauseating back flips. He felt his world turn right side up and then upside down again. He wasn't ready for this. It was too much too soon. He was still trying to process what they had just done, what they had shared.
He turned to her slowly, uncomfortably aware that he couldn't say the words back. "Nymphadora . . . I-"
She put a finger to his lips. "You don't have to say anything. In fact," She smiled sadly. "I'd prefer if you didn't. It's just that I've felt this way for a long time and . . . I thought you should know."
He said nothing.
Still smiling sadly, she turned on her side and faced the opposite direction from him. She knew she shouldn't have said it, but she'd had to. It was time that she told him . . . even though she'd probably ruined everything.
Remus stared at her back, wishing she'd turn back around. He wanted to see her, but she apparently thought he didn't want to. He felt horrible. A part of him seemed to think that he should've been able to say the words back to her but that he had simply chosen not to. He disagreed with that particular part of himself, but he still felt as though he had ruined the night for her.
She had told him that she loved him . . . The thought was mind-blowing, and it was hard for him to make sense of anything at the moment. But he knew he couldn't stand to see the woman beside him hurting.
He moved closer to her so that his skin was against hers. Then he wrapped an arm around her, holding her the way he had the first night Snape had tried to harm her, back when there hadn't been any aurors and it was just the two of them.
Remus awoke to the sound of scratching at his bedroom door. He sat up in bed. His Scottish Terrier puppy was pawing at the door and whining. It wanted outside.
Remus swung his legs tiredly over the edge of his bed. He went to the door and opened it. The puppy dashed down the hall to the door that led to the backyard and barked happily.
"Remus?" His mother emerged from the living room where she had been talking with his father. "What are you doing up, sweetheart? Go back to bed."
"He wants out." Remus explained, pointing to his puppy. "I think he has to go."
His mother bit her lip nervously. She looked pale and tired, almost sickly. Remus worried about her. She had taken to getting ill recently. She would be drained of her light and her spirit and her strength. After a while, it would pass and she'd be well again. Then, out of nowhere, she'd be sick once more. No one knew what was wrong with her.
"I'll put him out," his mother said softly. "You go back to bed. I'll bring him to you."
"But-"
"Remus," his mother said in that tone that told him there was no room for argument.
"Yes, mum." He turned and walked back to his room.
Mrs. Lupin studied the puppy uncertainly. It scratched at the door again. When it got no assistance, it sat down on its hind legs and began to howl. She considered letting it mess on the floor just this once.
It wasn't safe to go out tonight.
"What's going on?" Her husband came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He rubbed her arms comfortingly.
She leaned against him. "He wants out," she said, gesturing to the howling puppy at her feet.
He caught the worry in her voice. He thought for a tense moment and sighed. "I'll put him out." He let go of her.
"John-no-" She protested, but he had already opened the door and the puppy had slipped out. "Please be careful."
"Don't worry." He closed the door behind him and stepped out into the night.
As the puppy sniffed the ground, searching for the perfect spot, John looked up into the sky where a silvery full moon shined. He glanced quickly around. The night was quiet and the shadows were still. It made him uneasy.
"Hurry up," he said harshly to the puppy as it continued to search.
The puppy didn't seem to be listening. Suddenly, it jolted to attention and sniffed the air. Then it growled and barked, high pitched and unthreatening.
But it scared John.
He reached for the small animal, but it dared between his hands and ran off, barking as ferociously as any puppy could, into the woods behind their house. He took a hurried step forward, about to run after it, when he froze on the spot. He glanced up at the moon. It was too risky.
He went back into the house where he proceeded to have a hushed conversation with his wife. Unhappy, she turned from him and walked down the hall into Remus's room. The boy asked for his puppy.
"He ran off," she told him gently. "But your father is looking for him. Don't worry. You just go back to sleep." She promised to wake him up when his father came back with the puppy.
Remus tossed and turned after she left. He thought it was strange that the puppy had run off since it had never done that before. He knew his dad wouldn't be able to find it. He, Remus, had a connection with that puppy. He knew it would come running back to the house if he stepped outside and called to it, but he doubted it would come to dad.
Thinking he'd help his father, Remus got out of bed. He walked through the door and down the hall, but paused when he heard voices. His parents were having a heated discussion in their room. He bristled at the realization that they weren't looking for his puppy. How could they just leave it out there all alone in the dark? His puppy needed him!
He stepped outside into the backyard. It was dark and he could hardly see anything. He called for the puppy several times . . . but it didn't come.
He was about to go back inside when he heard a high pitched bark. As he called for the puppy again, the barks turned into whimpers and then changed to yelps.
Remus ran into the woods, following the sounds and calling his puppy's name. Branches cut at his face and brambles caught onto his clothing as though trying to grab him and hold him back from some unseen danger. But he had to help his puppy so he pushed onward.
Eventually, the frantic yelps turned to silence, and Remus was lost in the dark. He repeated the puppy's name over and over as he walked blindly through the woods. His bare feet were sore and scrapped, and he wished he'd thought of putting on shoes.
Suddenly, he stepped on something wet and warm. He jumped back in surprise. It was too dark to make out what he'd stepped on, so he reached down and picked it up cautiously. When he realized what it was, he gasped . . . and dropped the mangled and bloodied body of his puppy at his feet. There was blood on his hands. He hadn't know blood had a smell until that moment.
He turned and retched into the bushes.
He emerged to the sound of a deep, low growl coming from his right. He rotated slowly on the spot and found two amber eyes staring at him from the shadows. Gripped by fear, he was unable to move as a massive wolf padded slowly around him, stalking him.
"Remus!"
His father's voice jolted him into action. He turned and ran. "Dad!" he cried fearfully.
"Remus! I'm coming, son! Hold on!"
He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, but the wolf wasn't far behind. He could see the light of his father's illuminated wand ahead, and it was like a beacon of hope. He sent up a silent, desperate promise that if he made it, the next time his parents told him to go to bed, he'd do so and stay there without hesitation or complaint.
But the menacing growling behind him told him that he wouldn't be able to make good on that promise.
"REMUS!" For the first time, he heard nothing but fear in his father's voice.
His own fear melted in a scream of pain as the wolf sank its teeth into his skin.
Remus sat bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily. The dream faded from his eyes and reality began to sink in. He could feel the spot where the wolf had bitten him as though its jaws where still clamped there, but it was just the fear of the dream staying with him. He glanced around the room uneasily, looking for reassurance. To his fright . . . he found two amber eyes staring at him from the shadows.
He scrambled backward and switched on the bedside lamp. They weren't eyes at all, just the brass knobs on the cupboard doors under the sink glinting in the moonlight. He'd left the bathroom door open.
He breathed a sigh of relief and ran his hands over his face. It had happened so long ago (he couldn't even remember what the puppy's name had been), he'd think he would've gotten over it by now. Apparently not. The terror of that night was just as fresh as it had been all those years ago . . . especially when the full moon was so close.
"Remus?"
He jumped, having forgotten where he was.
"Are you all right?"
"It was just a dream," he said, more to himself than to her.
"You're shaking."
"Am I?" He hadn't noticed.
Her arms enveloped him. Comforted by the warmth of her body, he felt the fear instantly leave him. He closed his eyes. This was so much nicer than being alone. She turned the light off, then gently pulled him back down onto the pillows.
"What were you dreaming about?" she asked softly as she caressed his hair, her arms still wrapped around him.
"Greyback," he admitted quietly after a moment.
She didn't say anything for a long time. Then she removed her fingers from his hair and touched his shoulder, tenderly tracing the scar she found there. It was different from the others on his body. "Is this were he bit you?"
He nodded, his eyes still closed. He felt strangely relaxed, considering the topic of conversation.
She pressed her lips to the scar three times, as though her kisses could lift the "curse" from his body and make it vanish forever. He wished he could tell her just how much that simple act meant to him . . . but he couldn't find the words.